Page 50 of We Are the Stars

Me:Yes.

Carsen:I knew it. My life is nearly over. I feel the salt suffocating me… It was nice knowing you, Smelliott.

Me:Omg. NO! You cannot call me Smelliott!

Carsen:THAT’S what you’re worried about?! I’M DYING OVER HERE.

Me:I’m the last person you’d text on your deathbed? That’s sad, Carsen. SAD.

Carsen:Smelliott. Smelliott. Smelliott. Smelliott. SMELLIOTT!!!!

Me:I hate you.

Carsen:Liar.

Me:I know.

None of them are serious, but I do notice they’re all fun—which is a side of himself Carsen keeps locked up.

Except with me.

I should think this is strange, that we don’t talk at work but talk for hours at night via screens, but I don’t. It’s…Carsen. It’s us.

“Well, well, well. Look who we have here.”

Jase’s voice slides over me. He’s drunk, and I watch as he stumbles farther into Down the Lane, his gaze focused on me. He looks like crap, and it’s only six o’clock on a Thursday.

“You haven’t called me back.”

He’s not lying; I haven’t. I don’t have anything to say to him. He’s texted me every day, several times a day, for the last few weeks. His messages have ranged from sane to insane. He’ll start out calm, but if I don’t respond right away, they turn mean. That’s not my Jase, and I refuse to feed into whatever it is that’s making him so toxic lately.

“Jase.

“Jase,” he mocks. “That’s all you have to say to me? You don’t answer my calls or texts forweeks. What’d I do, E? Try to save you from being murdered?”

His voice is loud, echoing around the building, causing more than a few heads to turn our way. Jase ambles up to the counter, nearly throwing himself on top of it.

He drops his head to his hands. “I want to know why you’re mad, E. Tell me.”

“You were incredibly insensitive and rude, Jase. That’s not you. And now you’re badgering me with insane texts and calls. Again, not you. What the hell is going on?”

“Everything.”

“Explain.”

His voice is muffled as he says, “I failed classes.”

“What? Are you sure?”

“Pretty fucking sure, E. F means fail.”

“What happened?”

“I was banging my TA.” He stands, wobbles, and holds his hands out in front of his chest. “She had the best tits—better than yours, that’s for sure.”

I cross my arms over said mediocre chest and stare him down. “Point, Jase?”

“She found out I wasn’t only banging her. Guess she got ahold of my papers and changed grades. I failed.”

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