I opened my mouth to say something that would reassure him, but Carter beat me to the punch. “Huh. Never would’ve guessed. That’s cool, though. I’m all about equal rights and shit.”
“Um, thanks?” Poor Drew looked so lost, and I felt bad that I’d made his life more difficult.
“You’re really gay?” Aamee blurted out.
Drew’s head recoiled a bit. “I am?”
I elbowed him slightly.
“I mean, I am. Yes. Have been for a while now.”
Jesus Christ.
Aamee looked like she was ready to breathe fire. Not only had she lost her shot with my “brother,” but the video that she thought would be my undoing was useless.
Game, set, match, bitch.
“Sophia never mentioned she had a brother. What year are you?” Carter asked.
Drew looked a little lost for a second before he fell back into his role. “Yeah, she doesn’t like to mention me because I’m so much better at everything than she is. Jealous little thing. I’m a senior. A very senior senior.”
“He should be graduated and gainfully employed,” I corrected. It was what I would’ve said to Brody, and Drew had just called me jealous, so he had it coming. Though I had about three dozen shots coming if we were keeping score. Outing a straight man had to put me pretty far in the hole.
“I feel ya, man,” Carter said. “Thank God for redshirting. What’s your major?”
“Business.”
“I’m a communications major.”
Drew nodded like Carter had announced he was reversing climate change. “Very cool. We always need people who know how to talk.”
The look Carter gave Drew was full of admiration. As if someone finally got it. “Real shit, man. No one talks anymore. It’s all about Facebook and Snapchat and all that bullshit. I’m going to bring conversation back to communicating.”
“Right on, man,” Drew said before moving into some bro backslapping thing with Carter. Maybe Drew was gay. He’d certainly established a bromance pretty damn fast.
“Okay, well, I’m going to go…anywhere else,” I said. “See you guys around. Unfortunately.”
“Are we still on for our study date Monday?” Carter asked me.
“Yeah, sure.” My voice sounded resigned, but the truth was, I didn’t mind helping Carter. I guess, deep down, I had a fondness for nice guys with no aspirations. “We should probably meet at the library, though.”
“Ugh, I hate the library,” Carter complained. “Librarians creep me out.”
“Librarians?” I held up my hand. “Forget it. I don’t want to know.”
“I do,” Drew supplied.
Carter opened his mouth to explain, but I cut him off. “Library. Six. Be there.”
“I don’t wanna,” Carter whined. “Come to my place instead.”
“No. I told you last time I was never coming back over there. It smells like feet and semen.”
“Ew,” Aamee murmured. At least we agreed on something.
“Come to my place,” Drew said. “Well, our place now.”
“Wow, really? You sure?” Carter asked.
“Totally. You can tell me about your librarian-phobia.”
Carter shivered. “It’s the stuff of nightmares. But you’re on. Soph, can you text me the address?”
“Sure.” I had to push the word out through gritted teeth.
The last thing I needed was people further infiltrating the cocoon of lies we were spinning.
Chapter Five
D R E W
After I left Sophia and the others, I had to book it to my next class. I’d probably get an earful from Sophia later. She hadn’t looked too thrilled that I’d invited Carter over to our place, but I hadn’t even thought about it at the time.
My mom had always told me I had the gift of gab. It was what made me a great bartender. Unfortunately, she’d also told me that my mouth would get me into trouble one day. She was probably equally right about that. Good thing Sophia’s mouth had gotten her into trouble today too. Maybe she’d go easy on me.
I entered the room my—well, Brody’s—business ethics class was in and nodded to a few people who looked my way. I took a seat near the front, like I always did, because I was here to learn something.
Bartending had been a gig I’d kind of fallen into, but I had to admit, it suited me. I was good with people, and I was responsible and competent enough to handle running a business. All that was missing was knowing how to run a business.
The situation with Brody had been a giant stroke of luck. Getting to take some business courses would take me one step closer to opening my own bar one day. And I was going to take full advantage of the opportunity, whether I had to pretend to be gay or someone else entirely. Or both.
I didn’t come from a family of overachievers. My parents’ definition of success was to be able to stock up on groceries and have enough left over to buy themselves cigarettes. They weren’t bad people, but they never supported us the way they should have. They never pushed me or my siblings to be better, to work harder, to achieve more, to be something. It was why I didn’t talk to them much anymore.
The professor, Dr. Sherman, came in shortly after me and started class. I wrote down almost everything she said. A lot of people typed their notes on laptops. Brody had left me his MacBook, but I wasn’t quick enough at typing. I was an old-school guy in a new-school world. So pen and paper it was for me.
When the professor asked questions, I did my best to participate when I could. There was no denying I was missing some background information, having never taken any of the intro courses, but I was getting by. It required a bit more research on my part, but that was okay.
Toward the end of class, Dr. Sherman set her papers aside, leaned back against her desk, and crossed her arms over her chest.
“As we discussed at the beginning of the semester when I reviewed the syllabus, there is a group component in the requirements of this class. Now that we have sufficient background into the ethics of business, you’re ready to delve into that group project. I will allow you to choose your groups, but be sure to choose wisely. It is a team effort and a team grade.
“Once you’ve put yourselves into groups of four, you’ll peruse the cases I’ve posted online, choose one, and as a group, you’ll tackle the case questions that accompany it. You’ll present your findings during the last week of classes. The format as well as an example are provided for you on Blackboard. Any questions?”
When no one spoke up, Dr. Sherman smiled. “All right. Once you’ve signed up for a case and worked out the logistics of working with your group, you’re free to go.”
Most of the other students jumped up and got into groups with their friends. It all happened quickly, and it fascinated me how people were typically drawn to others like them. It was the most homogeneous grouping process I’d ever seen—not that I’d seen very many.
But then there were the outliers. The wallflowers, the mutes, the geeks, and the rebels who were too cool for group work—sort of like a collegiate Breakfast Club. I let my eyes drift over them for a few seconds before I got up from my seat and approached a pretty girl with thick-framed brown glasses and curly hair. She looked like she’d rather burn her bra than pair up with any of the giggling girls in her vicinity. I had to have her in my group.