Chapter 13

CHAPTER 13

Riley

My phone buzzed incessantly as I stuffed down my first bite of my chicken salad. One glance at the screen showed it was my brother, Aaron.

Heads up we’re heading out this weekend to check out a couple clubs for the bach party.

Shit!

I’d almost completely forgotten!

Technically, I was the best man and the bachelor party was my wheelhouse, but my brother and his friends all knew I was not the best choice when it came to partying, and I wanted my brother to have the best night, so we’d all agreed to choose a place after scouting out locations together. That way, I could oversee the finer details while also being sure that the place we picked was something up to Aaron’s caliber.

Before I could answer, Chris came waltzing through the door, lifting himself to sit on my demo counter, swinging his legs back and forth as he giddily pressed me to tell him how my date went, so getting back to my brother would have to wait.

“It wasn’t a date,” I reminded him as I took another stab at my salad.

“Were you in bed before nine o clock?” he teased.

“No, of course not. I?—”

“Did you have drinks? Flirt a little? Maybe even get a little first base action?” Chris challenged, using his hands to mold and grope the air like a seventh grader.

I couldn’t help the heat that formed in my cheeks at his insinuation, and that was telling enough.

“Oh my God, you did!” he teased, and I threw down my fork in defense.

“It wasn’t like that, it was... it was...”

“Riley and Mafia Man sitting in a tree?—”

“Stop!” I said, unable to control my laughter.

Chris only wriggled his eyebrows at me with a smile. “Hey, all I’m saying is you deserve to have a little fun you know,” Chris said through his own laugh. “So where’d he take you?”

I smiled as I recalled the previous night. “Some arcade in the city, called Wizards.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “I know that place. They’re like Dave and Busters on Pop Rocks.”

It was my turn to raise an eyebrow. “Pop Rocks?”

Chris rolled his eyes, his tone mimicking the valley girl accent that perpetuated the films of our youth.

“Well, we are an anti-drug district, Mr. Evans, crack is wack. And so nineteen eighty.”

I scoffed in return as I stabbed my salad.

“I, uh, actually ran into a student there,” I admitted. “Wasn’t sure what to say, you know, like how to introduce him or anything, so I just said like, hey this is my friend and this is one of my students... like a lame teacher.”

Chris let out a laugh. “Hope you weren’t in a compromising position,” he teased.

Heat rushed my face again as I remembered being so close to Eric, wanting to kiss him right then and there.

I let my head fall onto my desk, hiding the flush I knew was covering my cheeks.

“I am so screwed,” I murmured. I’d only had a couple drinks, but the lord knew how teenagers talked.

It wasn’t like I was completely in the closet, but I didn’t really share my personal life with my students. Not that I had much of a social life to share to begin with, but still...

Most of the staff knew I was gay, but it wasn’t like there was a neon sign outside my door.

“Looks like you won’t be dancing on your own at the wedding after all,” Chris said as my phone chimed again because I hadn’t closed out the notification.

I lifted my head, if only to grab my phone and silence the notification.

“Lover boy texting you already? Wanting some of that grade A Evans di?—”

“Oh my God, Chris, stop! No, it’s my brother. We’re doing the club scout this weekend. You know, where we’re supposed to go into the city and find the perfect pen of debauchery or whatever...”

“You should invite Lover Boy. I bet he’d be down to get low or whatever it is the kids are calling it these days,” Chris said, sticking his tongue out and making metal head signs with his fingers.

“I...”

I hadn’t really thought about inviting anyone because, truth be told, I hadn’t had anyone to invite, until now.

Come to think of it, I did win the last game, and the winner got to pick the next date.

Certainly, my brother wouldn’t object.

Just as I contemplated Chris’s words, the lunch bell rang, and I realized I hadn’t even finished my salad.

Damn it!

“Ah, well, that’s my cue, Romeo. Catch up with you and that Grade A later,” Chris called over his shoulder, his hand hitting the top of the door pane on his way out.

I sighed as the students filed into the room, vowing that during class time today I’d finish my lunch the way it was intended, and perhaps, I would take the initiative to invite Eric out this weekend.