Page 32 of Shots on Net

“Up here!” I shout back, dropping the eraser onto my desk and sliding the chair back. I’m just standing up and stretching my arms over my head when Carter steps into the room. He got here so fast he must have jogged up the stairs.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hello, there,” I respond, cheerfully. He looks a little flushed and he’s rocking back and forth on the balls of his feet as though he’s got pent up energy. Didn’t he just come from practice? “How’s it going?”

“Fine.” He bites the word out, staring at me and chewing on his lip. He’s acting decidedly strange. Before I can open my mouth to ask if he has a fever or something, he continues. “So, hey, I was wondering, if you’re not doing anything Friday night, would you want to go to dinner? With me. Dinner, with me?”

I stare at him, quizzically. What a completely normal but oddly peculiar request. “Sure, dinner on Friday sounds great. But don’t you have games every Friday?”

“Not this Friday,” he says, quickly, almost before I can finish my question. “This Friday we are free, and Coach actually gave us the night off of practice. And I get out early from classes, too, so…”

Carter trails off, scowling and looking vaguely around my bedroom. He seems a little worked up about something, but it can’t possibly be the prospect of dinner. We eat together all the time. Was he worried I’d say no?

“Oh, well great. Dinner it is then.” I smile at him and watch as he physically deflates. He lets out a whoosh of air and his shoulders relax; there is even something of a smile playing around his mouth.

“Great,” he echoes. “It’s a date, then.”

He nods, decisively, and opens his mouth as though he wants to say something else. Deciding against it, he casts his eyes around my room until they land on my desk. Seeing my homework spread across the surface, he backs slowly toward the door.

“I’ll leave you alone.”

“Oh, you’re fine, you can stay—." But he’s already gone.

Scratching a hand across my chest, I shake my head in amusement. I wonder what that was all about. Unfortunately, I don’t have time to wonder long, because this homework won’t do itself. Casting another glance at the doorway in case Carter comes back, I sit down in my desk chair and get back to work.

???

Jefferson slides into the seat next to mine in the lecture hall and drops his bag onto the floor with a thump. We’re early, as we usually are, so few seats are filled besides ours. He drops his head back against the seat and groans dramatically. The sound echoes through the open space and draws the eyes of the scattered students in the room. I jab him with my elbow.

“Shush,” I admonish.

“This isn’t a library,” he tells me, but lifts his head and turns to face me in his seat. “I need you.”

“Uh-oh.”

“You know how Tessa is part of the drama club? Well, we agreed to go to this party at one of their houses tonight but Tess isn’t feeling well and she can’t go. So, one would think I don’t have to go, right? Wrong. Apparently, I am still obligated to attend which means I am coming to you on bended knee and asking that you please do not make me go to this party alone.” He widens his eyes and leans toward me. “Do not leave me alone with the drama people.”

“I can’t tonight. Carter and I are going to dinner, remember?” I remind him, laughing at his hangdog expression.

“Fuck!” One of the students in the first row turns around and glares at us. “I completely forgot about that. Bring Carter! Bring the whole hockey team, I don’t care.”

“Well, I don’t know…I could ask, but—."

“Come on, Zeke, you never come out to parties. It’ll be fun! Seriously, bring Carter. Please come.”

Sighing, I bite my lip and watch a few more students trickle into the hall. It has been a long time since I’ve gone to one of Jefferson’s parties with him—I’m long overdue on my best friend duties. And maybe Carter won’t mind a slight change of plan; we’d still be hanging out, which was the whole point of grabbing dinner together on his free night. It’ll be a win-win situation, with both Jefferson and Carter happy with the outcome.

“Okay, I’ll ask him when I get home from class. He’s already done for the day since he finishes early on Friday.”

Jefferson throws his arms up in the air and lets out a whoop. This time, the girl in the front row tells him to be quiet but my friend ignores her. He beams at me.

“Fantastic. Thank you, thank you, thank you. You have saved me from the unimaginable boredom of an evening spent talking about Shakespeare. You, my friend, are a hero.”

Amused, I turn to an empty page in my notebook. “I didn’t say we’d be going for sure, I said I’d ask.”

I walk home after class, backpack over my shoulders and Carter’s hoodie looped through the straps. It’s definitely getting colder, but still not quite winter in South Carolina. It is, without a doubt, the best time to live here—when the oppressive heat gives way to a semblance of autumn and you have to dress in layers. I’m in a ridiculously good mood when I step through the front door and drop my bag.

“Hey, Carter!” I call out as I head up the stairs toward my room. I’d taken a little longer walking home today to enjoy the nice weather, so it’s already past five in the evening.

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