Page 13 of Gay for Pray
Besides, the project is kind of going okay, as much as I would never say that Nick. I think we could get a really good grade on it now that we’ve mutually agreed on a topic we both have a genuine interest in. I never would have thought it possible, but there was a lot that happened in that library study room that I wouldn’t have thought possible.
Maybe that’s why I keep thinking about Theodore. It’s not only the desperation, but also the surprisingly positive results of our meeting in the library. He caught me off-guard by kind of almost being human, and my overwrought brain is seizing on that like it actually means something. Logically, I know Theodore would push me in front of a bus if it meant he scored a couple points higher on that project, but the less rational parts of me aren’t interested in that explanation for why a good-looking guy is being slightly less mean to me than usual.
Nick pats my thigh. “I’m saying this as your friend, but you are never going to get laid if you go on this way. I’m worriedabout you.”
I smack his hand and his sarcastic concern aside. “How about you worry about yourself? Have you even talked to this Anthony guy?”
The speed with which Nick looks away answers my question for me.
“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
“Whatever. I have a better plan than your choir shit anyway.”
He fishes around in the grass for our smoke, stuffing it in his pocket so we don’t leave any incriminating evidence behind. School grounds or not, we don’t need the university on the hunt for students breaking the ethics code.
“There’s a party this weekend,” Nick says. “Heard about it from some guy in my bio class. Sounds like it’s going to be pretty good, and everyone’s going. They’re all sick of not getting laid during summer break. You should come with me.”
“Will there even be any queer people there?”
Nick shrugs a shoulder. “Maybe? Who knows with this place? I know where therearen’tqueer people for us to meet—in our dorm room.” When I hesitate, his voice turns pleading. “Comeon, Jude. We can’t spend another weekend on that damn couch playing video games. It’s pathetic. At least this offers us a sliver of a chance. If we go, something funcouldhappen, but if we don’t, something fun definitelywon’thappen, so this is the only logical choice.”
He isn’t wrong, but something still makes me want to hesitate. A party isn’t a perfect opportunity at a university like this, but it’s a better shot than we’ll ever get hanging out at home with only each other for company. Besides, I’m starting to think I need to spend time around someone, anyone, who isn’t Nick or Theodore. It’s making me go insane. Even a stranger at a party has got to be better than this. If nothing else, I’ll get out for the weekend and have some fun. If nothing more than that comes ofthe excursion, it’ll still be worthwhile to tamp down these weird thoughts I’m struggling to control.
“Fine,” I say. “I’m down. It better not suck though.”
Nick flashes a toothy smile. “It won’t. I hear this frat house’s parties are absolutely legendary. It’s gonna be so good. Just wait.”
I’m waiting, all right. I’m waiting for a miracle. I’m waiting for a guy to drop out of the sky and land in my lap. I’m waiting for my college experience to actually live up to the hype. This semester has to be different from my freshman year, and step one is this party, the most un-Theodore like event I can imagine.
I can’t stop myself imagining him at the party, stuck to the wall like a painting. I catch myself grinning at the mental picture and shake my head. The point of this is to get him out of my head, and that begins now.
Chapter Eight
Theodore
“I THINK IF WE move this section around, it’ll be easier to work in a couple more sources. We need five total, right?” Jude says.
I sit beside him in a tiny study room on the second floor of the library, following his finger as he points at the outline on my laptop. It takes me a moment to trace his line of thought, then I blink with surprise.
“Yes,” I say, startled. “That’s a good point. You’re right.”
He grins at me. “Wow, look at you, admitting I’m right. That’s growth, Theodore!”
I let the remark slide. It doesn’t actually sting because it has no bite behind it. Weirdly, it feels more like the way you’d tease a friend than a jab at an enemy, though Jude and I certainly aren’t friends. This is just the way he talks to everyone.
“Okay, where else can we fit in a few sources?” I say. “Professor Demsky only requires five, but we’ll get extra points if we can use a couple more.”
I expect him to retort with something about how I’m such a lame dork who only cares about grades, but he says nothing, just goes back to studying my outline—ouroutline. I came to our first meeting for this project prepared to handle everything myself, but in the time since, he’s done a lot more than I anticipated, making additions and revisions that are shockingly astute. The finished product that sits before me is truly a collaborative effort, a feat I wouldn’t have believed possible only a few daysago.
It turns out Jude is actually kind of smart.
He identifies another place where we could add a source while I’m busy churning over this revelation in my head. It feels weird to fall behind him in an academic setting, and it prompts me to respond with a question.
“How come you’re never like this during class?”
He sits up straighter. “Huh? Like what?”
I wave at my laptop screen. “Like this. You’re actually smart.”
