Ethan

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“SOCIOLOGY IS THE STUDY of the development, structure, and functioning of human society.” Greg repeated for the umpteenth time tonight. “Sociology is the study of the development, structure, and functioning of human society...”

“Please tell me you’ve gotten farther in your book than that, Greg.” I watched as he paced the floor of our living room.

“I have,” he said. “I’ve committed the first seven chapters of the text book to memory so far. The test is on the first five this Friday, but just in case this asshole tries to pull a fast one on me, I went the extra mile and memorized the next two, you know?”

My friend Michael shook his head from across the room. “I think I’ve officially been replaced as your craziest friend.”

“I agree.” I laughed and motioned for him to follow me into the kitchen. “Good knowing you’re still alive.”

“I could say the same for you, my friend.”

The two of us didn’t hang out as much as we used to since his pre-med major was kicking his ass these past few semesters, but the reckless times we shared during our freshmen and sophomore years would always be something for the record books. Something we could always remember.

“Okay,” he said, getting a beer from my fridge. “I came over to ask you for a huge favor.”

“You could’ve just called.”

“I did call. You didn’t answer.”

I looked at my phone and sure enough there was a missed call from him, but there were also forty new missed ones from the phones that belonged to Lisa’s friends.

Ugh. Take the hint, Lisa.

“What’s the favor?” I asked.

“It’s simple. I need you to take out the best friend of a girl I’m interested in.”

“Why do I feel like it’s slightly more complicated than that?”

“Because you have a great intuition.” He laughed. “This needs to be an extended type of thing since I want to um, get to a certain point with her by the senior trip.”

“Is there something wrong with the best friend?”

“Besides the fact that she hates me and thinks I’m bad news for her friend?” He shrugged and showed me her pictures on his phone. “Not really. And call me crazy, but outside of that, I think that the two of you would really get along.”

“She’s cute,” I said, then I shook my head. “So, out of all the things you said, should I just assume that your girl said that she was willing to go out with you, if you hooked her friend up with one of your hot friends?”

“The word ‘hot’ was never used, Mr. Conceited.” He laughed. “But yes, your intuition wins again. Can I give you her friend’s phone number? Her name’s Teresa.”

“Of course.”

“As I was saving it to my phone, Rachel walked into the kitchen wearing a sports bra and a pair of black booty shorts. She went straight for the refrigerator, moving around all the alcohol and beer until she found her SAS water bottle.

Me and Michael stared at her, and I started to envision her on top of me, in the backseat of my car.

Shit...

“Hey, Ethan.” She finally turned around, extending her hand to Michael. “Hey, Ethan’s friend.”

“Michael,” he said, looking her up and down. “And you are?”

“Rachel.”

“Ah.” He nodded. “Ethan’s ‘gone at sea’ friend.”

“We’re not friends,” we said in unison, a habit.

“For a while there, I thought he was making you up.” He continued talking as if he hadn’t heard our intrusion. “I must say that his description didn’t do you any justice.”

“I’m sure.” She laughed. “But if you’re the Michael Han he wrote about from time to time, he never talked shit about you.”

“Good to know.”

Another image of her wrapping her legs around my waist crossed my mind and I didn’t shake it away.

“Guess what?” she said, looking at me.

“What?”

“I just got asked out on a date! Like an actual date that won’t take place on a cruise ship or at an international excursion.”

“Somehow the cruise ship and international excursion sound much more appealing.”

“Not to me,” she said. “I just wanted to run the guy’s name by you before I said yes. Do you know a Brett Gallagher?”

“Brett’s an awesome guy,” Michael said, still looking her up and down.

“He’s an old associate of mine,” I said, making a mental note to hit him up this weekend. “We were closer before he joined a fraternity, but he’s a good guy.”

“Great! Someone you can vouch for.” She hugged me—catching me completely off guard, and the second her breasts hit my chest, I started to get aroused. “If this date goes well, and we go out a few more times, I’ll ask him to share my buddy ticket for the senior lodge trip!”

I stepped back. “When’s the date?”

“This weekend. Can I run a few outfits by you so I won’t give off the wrong impression?”

“Of course.”

“Great,” she said. “You know, you’re a pretty good temporary friend, Ethan.” She rushed away and Michael stared at her until she was out of sight.

“What the hell?” He walked over and hit my shoulder. “You never told me that the girl you ‘supposedly’ hated looked like that.”

She didn’t...

“Hell,” he said, laughing, “I probably would’ve written her back all those times, too. Especially if I knew she was coming back and living with me.” He lowered his voice. “Have you hit yet?”

“No,” I said, enjoying the new images of Rachel bent over the couch that were currently playing in my mind.

I took out my phone and tried to stay focused on the favor at hand. The Teresa girl.

As I texted her number, I tried to convince myself that the feeling in my chest when Rachel mentioned Brett Gallagher wasn’t jealousy. It couldn’t be.

She’s still the girl next door I hated...Nothing more. Nothing less...