And they don’t even have porches.
Earlier today, Leo and I talked about history, nature, and metaphysics. I hugged a tree and its energy coursed through my veins. Ahundred years ago, seven men were crushed to death by falling logs, and I felt the entire horrifying experience.
Ready to rip out my hair, I glance over at the pool table. Zander catches my eye and flashes me a smile. Of all the guys here, he’s the sweetest. He’s not a player like Braden, or inattentive like Trevor. Nor is he as immature as Cole and Jake. The way they’re smack talking and chest thumping right now, you’d think the state of the free world rode on their pool game. They’re twelve-year-olds in twenty-year-olds’ bodies.
I’m lucky to have Zander. Yeah, Leo seems to understand me better, but have I given Zander half a chance? I assumed he didn’t know anything about Napoleon, and he proved me wrong. Maybe he doesn’t understand me because I don’t share all of myself with him.
When Jake wins the pool tournament, he pumps his fists in the air like he’s the champion of the WWE. Zander, who came in third, pats his back and congratulates him. Braden is too busy tasting Liv’s neck to care.
Even when we get back to O-Chi, the guys are still competing, only now it’s on Smash Bros. It’s bloodless and mildly entertaining, but I’m still grateful when Zander goes out in the tournament’s third round. That means he’ll have more attention for me.
He sinks into the couch and stretches an arm across my back, but he doesn’t settle in until I drop my head on his shoulder and nestle against him. The musty upholstery, his hair tickling my temple, the bleeps and bloops of the video game—they’re all very ordinary, but comforting in a way.
Braden elbows Zander. “Did you tell Betsy what happened to her cooler?”
“No, I forgot.”
I lift my head. “What happened to my cooler?”
Braden laughs. “Somebody stole it.”
“What?” I sit up. “Who?”
He shrugs as he mashes the buttons on his game controller. “Fuck if we know.”
“Someone on the inside,” Zander says, urging me back under his arm. “Because they swiped it right out of my closet Thursday night. Remember how I had it all stocked up for you?”
I only had one beer that night because I had a philosophy exam the next morning. So whoever stole the cooler struck a Bud Light goldmine.
“I feel a little violated,” I joke, but I underneath I’m half serious. That cooler has lasted as long as Zander and I have, and now it’s gone.
“I know, right?” Zander squeezes me tighter. “If I knew who it was, I’d kick their ass. Nobody touches what belongs to my girl.”
My mouth goes dry. That threat is disturbingly familiar. How am I supposed to reassure him Leo and I are just friends when he gets territorial over a cooler?
We endure the mind-numbing tournament for another half hour before I declare myself sleepy and coax Zander upstairs.
I flop back onto his bed, reaching for him as he crawls over me on hands and knees.
“Are you going home for Thanksgiving?” he asks.
“No. To my grandparents’ in Richmond.”
“Oh.”
“Why?”
He kisses me. “I was going to ask if you wanted to come home with me.”
“Really?” I’m suddenly all gooey inside, like my crush just asked me to prom.
“Yeah. My brother’s bringing his girlfriend, so it’ll be, like, a couples’ thing. Mom’s all excited about it.”
“Oh, Zander,” I sigh. “I wish you’d asked me sooner. I already have my plane ticket and everything.”
“You’reflyingto Richmond?”
“I don’t have a car.” For some reason, he always seems to forget that fact.
