Calvin
Gina and I got through our first three tutoring sessions and decided to go grab a bite to eat over at the Campus Coffee Shop that was across the street from our office. I texted Chad and Mike, and they said they were on their way over too. We put away our files from the last sessions and grabbed our backpacks. I didn’t have a class until later in the day, so I needed something substantive in my belly.
We crossed the street, and Chad was already sitting at a table in the rear of the small diner. It smelled of fried onions and grease all the time, and I loved it. The Campus Coffee Shop was a town staple that usually had a ton of students in and out all day long, as well as townies who just wanted one of their juicy burgers. They even started serving alcohol after five in the afternoon. The campus asked them to stop serving during classes because students were imbibing and then going to classes.
Those asses aren’t taking their classes seriously. I never understood how someone can get stoned and go to class and then get all confused when they’re failing. Chris does it, and he gets by okay, but he would be doing better if he were sober in class. Whatever…Perhaps I take all of this too seriously. But I work hard to go here, so I think I take it the right amount of serious.
Chad scrunches up his face as we approach. He has that rubber face that can contort into the funniest expressions you can imagine. We called him Jim Carrey in middle school. Gina laughs girlishly as she slides into the booth. She totally has a crush on him, and Chad is clueless. He’s been that way his entire life. Mike and I find it hilarious.
“S’up, bitch,” Gina elbows Chad with her shoulder.
“Waiting for you motherfuckers. Mike is on the way and said to order him a double-double and some cheese fries,” Chad replied, a sullen look on his face.
“What’s wrong with you?” I ask, narrowing my eyes at him. “You look like you just ran over a small child on your way here.”
“No, I’m fine. Just hungry, as shit. I went out with some of Uncle Daniel’s farmhands last night and got fucked up on some moonshine at the lake. I’m getting too old for that shit, I guess. I feel like death.” He groaned loudly as he put his head in his hands. “I just wish someone would turn off the heavy metal music in my head. It’s killing me. I need to eat all the greasy shit I can right now.”
“That’s not real, by the way. Greasy food helps if you eat it before going drinking because of the way it coats your stomach. But it doesn’t help any afterward to cure a hangover. It’s the galanin that your brain releases when you drink. That enzyme is the reason you crave greasy food and why this fake cure started.” Gina grinned broadly. She was a walking Wikipedia page. I said she was the smartest person I know, right?
“Don’t science me, right now. Didn’t Jesus say something about greasy food curing hangovers? I think he did,” Chad tried to laugh and grabbed his temples. “Shit… I knew I shouldn’t eat with you guys. You always make me crack up.”
“Remember that time we got fucked up on moonshine when we were freshmen. It tasted like ass, and I thought I was dying about two hours later when I couldn’t stop puking my guts out. Chad, Mike, and me and a couple other guys were all in different parts of the field worshiping the… farm god. That was horrible. Never touched that shit again.” The memory still made me taste the bile in the back of my throat.
“Please stop… Not helping, at all,” Chad said, his face getting paler as the memory came across him.
“Yeah, stop. That’s fucking gross, and I’m gonna eat. That is not an image I want to think about, thank you very much!” Gina reached across the table and slapped my arm. “Oh, here comes the waiter, and Mike.” She nodded towards the door.
Mike slid into the booth beside me, and the waiter took our orders.
“Jesus. Sorry, I’m later than I thought. I ran into this girl from my Organizational Communications class. She uh… wanted to talk about the upcoming test,” Mike blushed.
“Really? Is that the same one from that study group you’ve been going to a lot?” Gina smirked knowingly.
“I’m really fucking hungry,” Mike grinned, pretending like he didn’t hear the question, which meant that it was the same girl.
“Mikey has a crush on a girl who studies,” Chad teased, a grimace still placed on his face. That made his teasing incredibly odd, almost mean.
Mike raised his eyebrows at Chad, completely flummoxed by his attitude.
“Moonshine,” I explained. Chad nodded very slowly.
“Shit. Didn’t you learn your lesson in high school? I swear I thought I was gonna…” Mike began but never got to finish. Gina reached over and covered his mouth with her hand.
“I heard all the gory details and don’t need to again. And good for you. Smart girls are hot,” she elbowed Chad in the ribs.
“Damn, Gina! I’m dying over here,” he leaned forward and put his head in his hands. “Sorry. Smart girls can be very hot.” This was as close to an apology that Chad could muster in his current state. Hell, it was as much of an apology as he would have given without the hangover.
“Whatever, bitch,” Gina elbowed him gentler. Chad groaned but smiled at her sweetly. Maybe he was more aware than he let on.
“Oh shit,” Chad laughed painfully. “Don’t look now, but your boy and some of the football mafia just walked in.”
I glanced over my shoulder and saw them walk over to a table parallel to ours but on the other side of the room. Sure enough, Mason McKendrick walked into my view and sat over in the corner. He saw me and nodded, a sly smile creeping across his face.
“I don’t really care,” I lied. I was totally annoyed with him, and he was probably a complete jock dick, but my libido still kicked in when I saw him. He was that fucking pretty, even if he was conceited butt-face. “After Saturday, I think he might be a dick. Still wish he was our starter, but he’s not as hot as he used to be to me.”
“You are such a bad liar,” Gina droned as if saying this to me wasn’t even worth it. “He is so hot, that if he walked through fire, he wouldn’t even break a sweat. That’s how hot he is. Damn… I should start going to the games with you, boys. Hey! Oh my god! It’s the twins… Fuck, they are… ginger gods.”
“You did not just say, ginger gods…” Chad chuckled. “They’re cool. I’ll give them that.” Chad had grown to respect them Saturday night. They did handle the scuffle quite well.
