My friends all laugh, and I just sit back and watch the show. That’s what I find myself doing a lot these days. I’m an observer. Especially now, since Ty’s got Phoebe, Knox has Willa, and Whit has…well, this obsession with Lucy, his stepsister.
But this suits me just fine. I’d rather watch than participate. Okay, that sounds oddly suggestive. What I mean is, I’m happy being the single guy in the background. The friend. It’s who I’ve always been and it’s where I’m most comfortable. Maybe that’s why I love hockey. It’s a team sport, and I know what to do when I’m part of a team.
But part of a couple? Yeah, that’s out of my comfort zone.
I had a girlfriend freshman year. Lexi. We were lab partners, and she was super sweet. Low-key, nice. We had Calc together, too. So we spent Tuesdays and Thursdays together for the first semester of college. We hung out all day and ate together. She worked out in the gym while I had hockey practice. She was a pretty girl, and she smelled good. When she asked if I wanted to make our relationship official, the only answer I could think of was yes.
And it was nice to have someone to talk to, someone to text. It was even nicer having someone to hang with at parties, considering Knox was usually busy doing keg stands, and Whit was usually streaking or stripping or something else Whit-like.
But as nice as it was, it was just…nice. So, when Lexi told me she had feelings for someone else, I didn’t take it too hard. It stung, but I got over it. And it’s just easier this way. I’m not meant to be coupled up, I guess. And that’s fine by me. My guys are happy, and I’m happy for them, but I’m kind of glad not to have the pressure of someone else’s happiness weighing on me.
“Woah, Rosebud! You stink,” Phoebe coos, scrunching up her nose. Rose is perched on Phoebe’s lap, and she just laughs. “Alright, Knox, come get your girl.”
Knox stands up and scoops his little girl into his arms. It’s only been a couple months, but the change in him is pretty incredible. He’s the youngest of us and was easily the most immature, but now? He’s a dad, a really good one.
“Okay, Princess Stinkarella, let’s get you changed. Then it’s bath and bedtime for you.”
Willa goes to stand, but he waves her off. “I got this one, Mama. But you should probably come tuck me in, ok? Like, in an hour?” He wiggles his eyebrows, but she just rolls her eyes as she leans forward to give Rose a kiss goodnight. “Sleep tight, baby. Mama loves you.”
“I’ll drop her off at daycare in the morning, but are you picking her up at four?” he asks.
“No, I’m not sure I’ll be back by then, so Ian’s going to get her and bring her here. I should be back by 4:30 or a little earlier.”
At the mention of her honorary uncle, Rose claps and says, “E! E!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Knox grumbles.
But I hear what she’s saying. Ian’s on my mind too. We’re friends, and we have been since Ty and Phoebe got together last fall. He’s a good guy and a loyal friend. I respect that. He’s also the TA in one of my classes this semester—the class I’m most anxious about. How the heck did I end up in Psychology of Human Sexuality?I let the athletic academic advisor make my schedule, that’s how. He’s never steered me wrong in the past, but this class has my nerves going crazy. I tried to get it switched, but it was too late and there weren’t any electives available to fill that time slot. I’m just glad it’s only listed as Psychology 357 on my schedule, or my dad would have had a fit. Everyone recommends it—says it’s easy and interesting. Plus a few guys from the team—Ollie, Koz, and Santos—are taking it. So I need to calm down. This class should be a breeze.
* * *
Update:Psych of Human Sexuality will not be a breeze.
This class is my own personal version of H-E-double hockey sticks.
I don’t talk about sex. I don’t really think about it. Ok, sometimes. But it’s not a constant stream in my mind, like it is for Knox. When we met as campers in middle school and he started to become the total horndog he is today, I worried that something was wrong with me. Then I worried that something was wrong with him.
Then I realized we’re just different. And honestly, my difference has always worked for me. The pastors at church have been preaching about the evils of sex and temptation since about as far back as I can remember. And some of the guys in my youth group struggled. One guy got his girlfriend pregnant at sixteen. Another guy got caught with the pastor’s daughter. Not me. They said stay clear of temptation, so I have.
Ok, my thoughts wander. And this year, they’ve started to wander way off the path. But I don’t act on those thoughts and that’s what’s key, right? Even with Lexi. She was pretty. When she touched me, it felt good, but touching was temptation, so we just didn’t do it. At least, not very often.
I’m starting to realize it’s not that easy for everyone.
And it might not be so easy for me anymore, either. Especially with the way my thoughts have started to stray.
This class, and the TA, aren’t helping. At all.
Ian McBride stands in front of us in the lecture hall. There are probably fifty students here, but he’s got everyone’s attention, including mine. I don’t necessarily want to hear what he’s saying, but I can’t ignore him.
He’s not a tall guy. I know this because I’ve stood next to him and he’s considerably shorter than my own height of 6’3”. I’d say Ian’s about Knox’s height, or maybe a bit shorter, which puts him around 5’8”. Knox loves to remind us that 5’9” is the national average, and Whit loves to joke about Knox’s fixation with average, but all joking aside, Ian’s height should prevent him from standing out in a crowd.
But standing next to that lectern, he’s larger than life. His reddish blond hair is framed by the overhead lights. His thick black glasses give him a studious air, and the stubble on his chin makes my fingers itch to touch it.
I’ve been in a lot of locker rooms, and I live with three guys. I’ve never wanted to touch another man’s facial hair in my life.
Ian makes me want a lot of things. He makes me question things I’ve always blindly followed. Last semester, when Ty and Phoebe got together, we all started stopping by the coffee shop more. Ian’s easy to talk to, so we'd strike up a conversation whenever I was there. When everything blew up in Ty’s face, and Phoebe found out the secret he’d been keeping, Ian was there to take care of Phoebe, and I was there to help pick up the pieces of Ty’s shattered mess. Ian and I exchanged numbers so he could contact me to get the rest of Phoebe’s stuff.
Thankfully, all ended happily, and instead of needing her stuff, Phoebe ended up moving into The Chapel with us. But having Ian’s number came in handy when we all realized that Willa from the coffee shop was Knox’s girl who got away. Our friends’ coupling puts us in close proximity, so we hang out sometimes. He’s a good guy, and I consider him a friend.
