Page 89 of Freshmeet
“Hm. That’s not the threat you think it is.”
Jamie huffed and focused on his phone. He’d been glued to the thing all day, despite his saying no phones during “guy time”. I didn’t call him out in case he was talking to Sarah and could tell me what she was up to.
“We’ll support you with whatever you want to do, Con.” Tom leaned back, sipping his beer.
“You guys have to stop acting like I’ve been waiting for Laura to come back to me. I had that chance last summer and turned her down. Sarah is my girlfriend. Period. End of story.”
Jamie’s head shot up from his phone, his lips parted.
“Okay. No more talking about my relationships.”
Grant laughed. “Fine. How’s work?”
I sighed and reached for the last piece of pepperoni pizza. “Which job?” We shared a laugh, and I said, “I can’t wait for the semester to start so I can drop working for Uncle Rick.”
“He still giving you shit?” Jamie asked, guilt written all over his face.
I shrugged. “No more than usual.” Handing Grant the bag of popcorn, I asked, “You plan on going to school now that you have the army to pay for it?”
“I don’t know.” He scratched the back of his head. His hair was short, like it had been for the last four years, but now he had a fade with a more fashionable shape-up. “I should. I mean, that’s why I enlisted, but a part of me is enjoying having free time.”
“There’s no rush.”
“Sure, but I don’t want to be even older than you starting my freshman year.”
“It’s a little late for that, man.”
He flipped me off, but his mood had lifted a bit. “I figure I’ll take this year to fuck around and figure out what I want to do, then I’ll apply.”
“Vague, simple. I like it,” Tom said with a grin. He ducked, the pillow Grant threw barely missing his head. “What?”
“It’s not like you have some grand plan, dickhead.”
“Hey! I’m helping my dad.”
“Oh yeah, you’ve always had a deep passion for agriculture.”
Tom’s lips thinned, and his face turned pink. “It may not be my passion, but unless Travis comes back, I’m all my dad has.”
“Guys—”
Grant cut me off. “Don’t do that. Your dad can manage without you.”
“So, what should I be doing, oh wise one?” Tom ran his fingers through his shaggy brown hair.
“Music. You should try to do something with your music.”
Tom scoffed, crossing his arms tightly. “That seems like a real secure career path.”
“I didn’t say it was, but you have all the resources to at least give it an honest try. But instead, you waste your day dealing with soybeans—a food you don’t even like to eat. For what?”
“You wouldn’t get it.” He ran a hand down his face and stood. “I have to take a piss.”
Grant wasn’t bothered at all. Clearly, this wasn’t the first time they’d had this fight.
“You guys really know how to have a good time.” Jamie’s eyes widened in false excitement, still typing away on his phone.
“What do you suggest? Should we get on our phones?” I’d had enough of his little comments about me being boring.
