Page 111 of Breaking Away

I sip my beer. “No.”

That’s the end of it, except it’s not. Kavi comes to sit beside me. Her thigh pushes against mine. “Come on,” she prods. “Everyone will be so happy.”

“I don’t care about that.”

“Fine. It would makemehappy.”

I don’t care about that,is the obvious reply. I can’t say it. And then she says that word again. The one that has me agreeing to things I’ve never done before.

“Please?”

Somehow I’m now standing in the middle of the group, reading a chit of paper that I’m supposed to act out.

Hughes picked the word.

I look at it and swear. “Give me another one.”

“You can’t switch it.” He jogs to the other side of the room, so I can’t tackle him. Instead, I read his scrawled writing again.

Love.

My jaw ticks.

Is he joking?! He must be fucking joking.

Love?

“I hate you,” I sneer.

“No talking,” yells Quinn. He has a notepad and a pencil out. “Act it out.”

“I can’t.”

“We believe in you,” yells Raghr.

“You can,” insists Kavi, meeting my eyes.

It’s suddenly warm under the collar of my shirt. I rip open the first button.

From across the room, Hughes shouts: “Strip show!”

NO.

I need to finish this round, and then fade into the background before they push me into doing more. My teeth grit as I point to my chest.

“Heartburn,” yells someone.

“He’s pointing to himself,” says Hughes. “WhatisA Lokhov? Is he the Great Wall of Great Parties or the So-So Wall of Burned Hamburgers?”

“I didn’t burn them,” I snarl.

“No talking,” chimes in Quinn again.

Great.

I stand there as answers get thrown around, most of them coming from Hughes.

“He’s repressed! Frustrated by his feelings! In desperate need of a bromance!”

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