5. Dex

5

DEX

The posters are all made for the upcoming mixer, and as we're cleaning up the markers, Craig says, "Ready to set these up in different locations?"

"I've got a free period, so I'll take mine to the center of campus."

"Good idea," Milo says, grabbing a bucket. "I'll hang mine near the dining hall."

We head out the door and in a similar direction to help spread the word.

I spot Austin at the coffee cart, but he's too busy to pay me any attention, which is normal before morning classes.

Even a week later, I still feel like shit for encouraging him to talk to Darren. And to make matters worse, he seems bummed about it too. Unless I'm projecting. But I can't help wanting to encourage him whenever I get the chance. I know there's someone out there for him, so they need to hurry up and make themselves known.

Austin won't admit it, but Kael having Angelica over all the time must be annoying. I didn't bring hookups back to our dorm when we lived together for that reason. I didn't want him to feel bad or get total FOMO, like he was missing out on something big. Not that I hooked up that much last semester. Not only because of my busy schedule but also because it was more fun spending time with my bestie. But Kael and Austin don't have that type of friendship. Yet. God, listen to me. I would normally love that for him, so why was I in such a mood when it came to him?

A girl points as she walks by. "What are those for?" I step away from the poster so she can read it, hoping the instructions make sense. "So, we just take a flower, hand it to someone, and ask them to meet at your mixer?"

"That's the idea." I hand her a few stems. "It's your admission into the party."

"Can it be a friend, or is this like a?—"

I hitch a shoulder. "Anyone you want to party with that night."

"I'm in." She walks toward a table of her friends. I watch as she hands out the flowers and then motions to the poster. The girls smile and nod. Guess the concept is working. Not that I had doubts; it worked well last year. The flower stems are a bit worn, but as more people take the offerings, I suppose I can see how nice it might feel to be handed a flower, even if they're leftovers from another mixer. I've never given them to anyone in my life. Like I said, there's not a romantic bone in my body. But Austin likes flowers, and Mom does too, especially if they come from one of her horrible boyfriends.

Speaking of Austin, now that the line has died down, he's looking a bit less harried. Until the guy he ran into last week steps up to order coffee. The awkwardness is written all over Austin's face, and even from this distance, I can tell he's tongue-tied.

That gives me an idea, and before I can think it through, I grab two stems from the bucket and head toward the coffee cart, knowing I still have time before my Community Politics class.

Once the customer walks off with his order, I sidle up to Austin and hand him a flower. "What's this for?"

"It's the invite to our Poli House mixer." Then I hand him the other one. "Before you miss this chance, catch up to that guy you can't stop staring at."

"What?" He glances over my shoulder. "No! I can't… I wouldn't…"

"You have a lull in customers, so this is the perfect time."

I nudge him toward the walkway, where he takes a few confident steps, then freezes when the guy stops to throw something in the trash can.

Austin squares his shoulders, then starts walking again. Except he trips on a crack in the sidewalk, stumbles, and the flower goes flying. Christ.

I jog to him to make sure he's okay, but he's already standing and patting his knees.

By this time, the guy is staring, his eyes wide. "Everything okay?"

"Uh-huh." Austin's face is so inflamed you can barely see his freckles.

"You dropped something," I say to the dude, still in help-out-Austin mode.

"Huh?"

Catching on, Austin points to the flower.

The guy shakes his head. "No, that's not mine."

"That's a flower for the Poli House mixer this weekend. We've been passing them out all morning. It's your ticket to get into the party."

Austin, who's now holding the flower, juts forward. "So, um, you want to go in case…I mean, in case you can make it."

"I'm not sure if I can," he says but takes the offering.

Austin sputters. "It's not a prob…it's no big thing. Just forget it." He turns away, the apples of his cheeks ruddier than his hair. "Feel free to hand it to someone else, then."

The guy nods, holding my gaze for entirely too long. "I appreciate the invite though."

"Yeah, sure. Maybe we'll see you there after all," I add since it wasn't a flat-out no. And though I have a sneaking suspicion the guy is confused about which of us invited him, I ignore it. This is about Austin building more confidence.

Once he's out of earshot, Austin mutters, "I'm over your dumb ideas."

"What? He took the flower. He didn't say no, so there's still a chance."

He rolls his eyes. "Just take the L on this one. Besides, does it even matter?"

"Guess you'll never know until you show up."

"Not only did I knock into the guy once, but I fell in front of him too. Kill me now."

"He didn't seem bothered by it." I shrug. "Whether you realize it or not, you're adorable."

"Take your adorable and shove it."

"I'm sorry," I reply, feeling like a terrible friend. "Do you want me to stop? Finding opportunities for you, I mean."

"I just…" He shakes his head. "It's true that pushing me out of my comfort zone isn't always a bad thing because I can get stuck, and you know that more than anyone. But maybe instead of springing stuff on me, give me a heads-up?"

I screw my eyes shut because he's right. Twice this week I saw an opportunity and leaped on it, wanting desperately to help him and hoping for the best. "You're right. I need to remember you're more methodical than me, even if I see an opening."

"Thank you." He blows out a breath. "Gotta get back to work."

He heads to the coffee cart, a line forming once again, so I leave him alone, feeling out of sorts.

I throw myself into morning and afternoon classes, trying to ignore that queasy feeling in my gut, before heading back to Poli House.

"I'm famished," I say to Milo. "Want to head to the dining hall?"

"Nah, gonna go in on a pizza with a few of the other guys. You're free to join us."

I consider it briefly, but I'm too anxious to see Austin after the flower debacle. "And miss taco night? You gotta be kidding me."

He snorts out a laugh because he knows I'm teasing. The campus food is decent, but sometimes there's what we all call mystery meat.

I head across campus, noting that every person I see is holding a flower. It brightens up the place a little.

After I grab my food, I find two empty spots at a table, waving to Kael, who's sitting with Angelica and her friends at the other end.

As soon as I see Austin walk in, I stiffen, hoping he's not still mad at me. Guess I can see why he might be, though, since my last couple of ideas haven't exactly panned out.

But when I see the flower I gave him pressed inside a book, I smile. He saved it, so he's at least giving it some thought.

Austin sits across from me with a frown.

"I'm sorry, Austin. I didn't mean to?—"

He cuts me off. "You remember back in high school when they had that flower sale during Valentine's week and kids walked around with pink roses all day?"

"Yeah, I remember. It was stupid."

"I only received a flower once in four years, and even that time was suspicious."

My stomach tightens. "Like I said, it's stupid."

"I pretended it didn't matter, but it did."

"In the end, it was just a popularity contest." The football players and cheerleaders would have armfuls of flowers, which was ridiculous.

"You must've noticed my disappointment junior year because the very next day, I found a flower stuck between the slats of my locker—a wilted pink rose, to be exact."

"I plead the fifth." I'd wanted to see him smile, and it had its intended effect. At least until it dawned on him that it might be from me to make him feel better. He asked me repeatedly, but I never confessed. I wanted him to think someone randomly gave him one.

"I know that fucking flower was from you. I still have it pressed between the pages of one of my favorite books."

My stomach does this funny dipping thing as my gaze springs to the fake one sticking out of his book now. "Why did you save it?"

"To remind me what a good friend you are," he replies, then narrows his eyes. "But I'm not so sure anymore."

"Ouch." I raise my hands in defeat. "I apologize again."

He sighs. "We're in college now. Things are supposed to be different."

"The only thing different is that we're adults."

"Right. And age is just a number." He picks at his taco shell. "Must be why it feels the same in so many ways."

"I hear you." I shrug. "People still form groups based on shared experiences…and you're obviously in my group."

"Have you ever wondered about that? What do we even have in common anymore besides being gay and our parents getting divorced?"

"Those aren't the only things." I scrunch my face, wondering what he's getting at. When we lived together, we gamed and watched movies, let alone telling each other almost everything. "Even still, wouldn't that be enough?"

He shrugs. "Not always."

Maybe Austin is feeling as vulnerable about our friendship as I am. Why else would he be bringing this stuff up?

"Hey! We've made our friendship work, and even though we're no longer roommates, you're not getting rid of me that easily."

He smirks. "Well, damn. I was hoping…"

"Jackass." I toss a wrapper at him. "Don't finish that sentence!"

We grin at each other, calling a silent truce, and then finish eating. Kael pulls us into a conversation about the best pizza in town, and everyone has different replies except for Austin and me. "Angelo's!" we say at almost the same time. Angelo's is a little hole-in-the-wall place off the beaten path that we walk to whenever we're bored with campus food.

I wink. "See, I told you we have more in common."

He clinks his cup against mine. "We both like to stuff our faces with good food."

After soda refills, we head out with the others.

"So hey, don't lose that flower. That's your ticket to getting in on Thursday."

"I'll try not to," he deadpans.

"Whatever happens, happens, but you never know," I reply, hoping that for once I'm right. "At least come hang out with me."