CHAPTER THREE
Ethan loved hanging out with Jessica, just not in her room. Clothes on the floor, perpetually unmade bed, papers stacked on papers making it hard to have her laptop fully open on her desk. That was her freshman-year dorm room; her current sophomore-year room was even worse, if that was possible. The closet looked like a serial killer lair. Clothes slid half-off hangers. Piles of…something accumulated in the corners. Ethan sat on her bottom bunk bed with Anna and felt something jab into his butt.
A comb. Brown hairs bunched in the teeth.
He withheld any reaction, remembering how defensive Jessica got when Dave brought it up last year. He couldn’t handle her arguing skills. Instead, he kept talking.
“This guy was such an asshole. Such a know-it-all. He was like, ‘preparing to give a slew of hand jobs later?’”
“Are you serious?” Anger flashed in Jessica’s eyes. Ethan had been pissed at what Greg had said, but in retrospect, he found it a little funny. Mostly for the shock value.
“I can’t believe that!” Anna said, though Ethan wondered if she knew what that was.
“He’s one of those rich fraternisluts who planned his classes around his party schedule,” Ethan said.
“What an obnoxious and, frankly, homophobic thing to say. We should alert a counselor. He can’t go around saying stuff like that.”
“I don’t think he knew I was gay. He just wanted to get a rise out of me.” Although maybe Greg did know. Ethan never knew how obvious his gayness was to others. He didn’t act flamboyantly like other gay guys on campus (well, he didn’t think he did), though he admired their fearlessness.
“I am so tired of these guys. They’re the same ones on Wall Street who crashed the stock market in ’08, and they’re the same ones who make all those brain-dead action movies that objectify women,” Jessica said.
Ethan kept silent. He knew from experience that Jessica could get very passionate, and she needed a minute to cool down.
“Forget them,” Anna said through tight lips. Ethan wondered if she wanted to say fuck ‘em. Perhaps Ethan should say that to Greg in the next class.
No, he wouldn’t. He wasn’t going to sit next to him and interact with him again. Once was enough. But then why did Ethan keep thinking about that class and that wicked smirk?
“Hey, do you want to try a new dining hall tonight?” Jessica asked, back to her regular self. Her chill self.
“Where?” Anna asked.
“The one in Maynard.”
“Isn’t it the same food, though?”
“Yeah, but I heard they have a Make Your Own Sushi station this week.”
“I’m there,” Ethan said. “How’d you hear about it?”
Jessica flashed him a warm smile. “I’m a journalist. I keep my ears open.”
Before he could mention Greg again, the doorknob turned. Jessica tensed up slightly, like they were about to get busted, and in came her roommate in a burst of energy.
“Hey, guys.” She waved at Ethan and the girls, but it was half-hearted. It was a formality, an acknowledgement.
“Did you need to use the room?” Jessica asked. “We can leave.”
“Oh, no. You’re good.”
A thunderbolt of awkward seemed to strike the room, but the roommate wasn’t fazed in the least.
“I’m Lorna,” she said and waved again. Ethan and Anna introduced themselves back. Lorna tiptoed over clothes and papers, half-tripping on one of Jessica’s shoes.
“Sorry, I’ll clean up later,” Jessica said.
“Oh, no problem!” Lorna said. Ethan could tell how hard she was working to be fake-nice. Or maybe it was actual-nice. With girls, he could never know for sure.
Lorna went to her closet, which was damn near immaculate compared to Jessica’s, and flipped through shirts.
“What are you up to tonight?” Jessica asked and made a face at Ethan and Anna while Lorna’s back was to them. Wait till you hear this, she seemed to say.
Lorna selected a funky green top with ruffles that Ethan admired. He wished men’s clothes could be that varied and unique. “I’m going to a stoplight party.”
“What’s that?” Ethan asked. Jessica swiveled her head to look at him. His answer had not been adequately caked in condescension. He turned a shade of red.
“You wear a color to designate your relationship status. Red means taken. Green means single. Yellow—” She pointed to the yellow top she was already wearing. “—means it’s complicated.”
And then she took it off. She wore a black bra underneath, but Ethan only saw it for a second before averting his eyes. Out of respect and lack of interest. His friends also looked away.
“Lorna, do you need some privacy?”
“Nah.” She was still wearing her bra. “We’re all gals here.”
She put on the green, ruffly top, and it fit her curvy body perfectly. She pushed out her wavy, red-tinged hair to flow over her shoulders. “Much better.”
“I guess it’s not complicated anymore,” Ethan said, surprised at himself for coming up with such a Dave-like response.
“Exactly.” Lorna nodded at her new shirt with confidence. “I think complicated is usually just a fancy way of saying, ‘It’s over but I don’t want to admit it’s over.’ Nope, tonight I am all green.”
“Great,” Jessica said. She and Anna held in snickers.
Lorna swabbed her face with a cleanser pad while looking in a small mirror she’d stuck up to the closet wall. “Delta had the same exact party last spring. Of course, most of the guys wore green, even though not all of them should have. There will probably be three drink rooms again, each a different color. Red, yellow, and green. So red, yellow, and green Jell-O shots.”
“Very clever,” Ethan said. He imagined the setup of the party, and it sparked something within him. He wished he could go to something like that. His party experience was limited to gatherings at upperclassmen apartments with assortments of wine, which he and his friends never drank. Someone had thrown a Roaring Twenties party once, so there was that.
“And get this. Some guys go in red shirts because they know they could get more girls that way. How shady is that? I only dance with green and yellow people.”
There was dancing, too? He had a vision of a rocking party, like New Years Eve meets a rap music video. And on a Tuesday night!
“So yellow people can dance with green people?” Anna asked, and she sounded half-curious.
“Yeah. It’s complicated. As long as it’s not red, you’re safe!” Lorna tossed her hair around to get it perfect. She checked the time on her phone. “And I’m late!” She snatched a clutch purse hanging on the wall and gave a giant wave to the entire room. “Have a good night, guys!”
Ethan waved her goodbye. Once the door clicked close, his friends giggled to each other.
“And that’s my roommate,” Jessica said. “The good news is that she’s never here, so it’s like having a single.”
“She has quite a life,” Anna said with a large dose of sarcasm.
“If getting drunk and grinding against random boners is what you want your life to be.”
Ethan remained quiet. He had thought all people did at frat parties was stand around and drink. He hadn’t realized there was dancing and color coordination.
“Aww, poor Ethan,” Jessica said. “Traumatized from seeing his first bra.”
Ethan acted shocked at the accusation. It was true, though. His friends wore Tshirts and long-sleeved shirts, so he never had to see their bras. Unless you counted the ones on Jessica’s floor. Ethan peered over at Lorna’s desk. Clean. Either from no use or good hygiene.
“That’s the other half of Browerton I have no interest in knowing,” Jessica said.
“Oh, you guys,” Anna said. “We’re all wearing red, green, or yellow.”
And sure enough, they were. Ethan’s green T-shirt was very appropriate for his single love life. For now. Maybe one day with Preston that would change. Maybe he and Preston could get drunk at a party and release their inner feelings for each other and have a hot makeout session. (And of course that would lead to a relationship, but Ethan was also looking forward to the physical.) “We’re ready to party! Like OMG,” Jessica said in a Valley Girl accent. “Let’s start our own stoplight dance party right here!”
But they didn’t. Instead, Jessica called Dave, and they all went out to eat at the Maynard dining hall.