Love Lessons (11 page)

Kelly had worked that much out on his own. “So what, I shouldn’t even try? You sound like Walter.”

“Interesting, isn’t it, that your two closest friends are both cynical about relationships. Though honestly, I can’t see what you saw in that guy, outside of his being cute. You’re smart, you’re funny and you’re kind. You knew all Mason wanted out of you was a lay, and when you held out, he lost interest. You could do so much better, probably while sleepwalking.”

“I can’t find them, though, and I want to be with someone.”

She ruffled his hair. “Well, be smarter about it next time. Pick somebody worthy.”

Walter’s sideways grin flashed in Kelly’s mind, but he quickly snuffed the image out. “And if there isn’t anyone worth my time?”

“Then welcome to the cynical relationship express. I’ll save you a seat.” She nudged his tray with her finger. “Hey, I know. How about you come with me to a party tonight over in the Manors? It’s a bunch of lesbians and bi girls, and while there’ll be drinking, it’s not mandatory.”

Kelly raised his eyebrows, highly dubious. “Why would I want to go to
that
?”

“Because there’s no pressure, no boys to sigh over. Just music and good times.” She grinned. “Bring your iPod, and you can show off that artist you keep telling me about.”

It still sounded a little crazy, but Kelly couldn’t say no, not when Rose had been so nice the night before. “I’ll think about it,” he said.

She aimed her spoon at him. “You’ll go,” she corrected.

While Kelly had every intention of wheedling out at the last minute, he forgot how well Rose had his number. Not only did she text him all day, she promised to come hunt him down if he didn’t show up by nine. When Walter caught him groaning over that last text, Kelly showed it to him, hoping he had a way out.

To his surprise, Walter laughed and looked intrigued. “She invited you to a party at Luna’s? Shit, honey, you should go. And you should take me along.” When Kelly did a double take, Walter waved impatiently at him. “Sometimes I forget you’re a freshman. Luna is a senior on the endless-year program. She’s a crazy lipstick lesbian and absolutely adorable. Every now and again she bribes her floor’s RA and throws a killer party, invite only. I’ve heard about them but haven’t ever been.”

“Then how am
I
invited?” Kelly asked.

“By Rose, it seems. Which means she’s sleeping with Luna, if she’s able to toss out invitations that freely.
Very
interesting.” He nudged Kelly’s elbow. “Text her back and see if I can come along.”

Kelly still couldn’t get over that Walter wanted to go watch a bunch of lesbians dance, let alone that he needed Kelly’s inside connection to do so. Overwhelmed and a bit confused, he did as Walter ordered, and half an hour later they were both heading across campus, iPods in their pockets and a tote bag of alcohol slung over Walter’s shoulder.

“Aren’t we going to be in trouble if someone catches us?” Kelly eyed the bag nervously.

Walter raised his eyebrow. “For what? Drinking? I’m old enough, and so’s Luna.”

“Most people at the party won’t be though, right? Rose and I are underage, and the college knows that.”

“The Manors are pretty small—they’re set up in pods, sixteen units total, and my guess is she invites the whole building to the party. When she lived in junk housing like us, she had to be more creative, but the thing is, even when parties get shut down, everyone just goes home. Campus security shines a flashlight and looks stern, and everyone heads to bed.” He bumped Kelly with his shoulder. “Stop fussing. It’ll be fine, and you can get drunk and have a good time.”

“I don’t want to get drunk. What if something happens?”

“To a drunk gay boy in a room full of lesbians? Nothing. You need to let your hair down, Red. You seem uptight. Tell you what—I won’t get any deeper than tipsy, and I promise to keep your virtue safe. Deal?”

Kelly shrugged, embarrassed but not quite sure why. He didn’t plan to get drunk, whatever Walter said.

That resolve quickly slipped as they went down the steps to Luna’s dorm and Kelly took in the riotous feminine debauchery spilling out of the front door of Ashburn Manor. Kelly hadn’t gone into the upperclassmen dorms during his campus tour, only driven by on the street. They were a little village, four sets of four buildings to each pod, the sections connected by a series of walkways, though each entrance was a sunken pit in front of a kind of communal picnic area. The whole design was so 1970s it might as well have a disco ball hanging in front of it. Though no sooner had he thought that did Kelly spy one spinning slowly inside the lounge of the building where the party was to be held.

He glanced around the quad, taking in the other three buildings in the pod, wondering if any of the residents minded all the noise. He read the names off the individual houses in front of their front doors: Ashburn, Chaney, Clark, Dahmer—

“
Dahmer
?” Kelly repeated, scandalized.

“Vernon, not Jeffrey,” Walter said. When Kelly looked at him blankly, he winked. “You must not have gotten there in your humanities course yet. All the manors are named after dead civil rights activists.”

“Oh.” Kelly blinked, relieved but still a bit thrown. “That’s…different.”

“That’s Hope, honey.” He put his hand on the small of Kelly’s back. “Rose is going to throw her back out trying to wave you over. Go say hi. I’ll catch up after I thank Luna for letting me crash.”

It turned out Walter wasn’t exaggerating—Rose hung out the window of one of the lower floors, a red Solo cup in one hand and a long necklace banging against her cleavage as she gestured wildly to Kelly. For the first time since he’d met her, Rose didn’t have on some kind of hat. Her long hair was curled, even, and she wore makeup.

There was also a
lot
of cleavage. He stared at it, realizing he hadn’t noticed how well-endowed she was before.

She caught him looking and laughed, leaning heavily on his shoulder. “Kelly, sweetheart! I’m so glad you came. I was too drunk to come get you.” She waved her red cup, sloshing some of her drink onto herself. “Come on in. I’ll get you something.”

“What room are you in? I’ll come around and—” He yelped as she put down her cup and dragged him in through the window.

The room was full of women, all of them as drunk as Rose. Several of them were snuggled together, one group a threesome. They smiled up at Kelly, waving as Rose introduced him. It was the usual get-to-know-you chitchat, Rose’s friends asking where Kelly was from, making the Mayberry joke when he said Minnesota, and they all announced they were from various Chicago suburbs. A few of them started telling random stories about Chicago—at the same time—but when Kelly realized two of the girls in the threesome had their hands down the third girl’s pants, actively getting her off, he shot to his feet and gestured at the door.

“I’m going to go find Walter,” he said to Rose, and beat it the hell out of Dodge.

He found his roommate in the main lobby, sipping water from a bottle as he talked to a cute, short blonde with perfectly applied makeup, more cleavage going on than Rose, and purple streaks in her hair. She waved as he came over.

“Hi, I’m Luna. You must be Kelly. Rose told me all about you. Oh good, I see you already got something to drink.”

Kelly looked down at the glass in his hand, surprised to see it there. “Rose gave it to me, I think.”

Luna laughed—wickedly. “Yeah, she’s been hitting the hard stuff. She’s going to be
fun
tonight.”

While Kelly tried not to actively recoil from all the lesbian imagery, Walter took the drink from his hands and sniffed the rim. His eyes went wide, and he handed it to Luna. “Babe, do you have something a little less toxic? My boy’s not a heavy.”

“Sure thing.” Luna set Kelly’s glass down and gestured to a makeshift bar in the middle of the room. “Help yourself. Music’s down in my room, number four.”

She drifted away, and Kelly watched her go as Walter guided him to the table of alcohol. “I can’t believe she and Rose are sleeping together. She never even said anything about dating someone.”

“If I know Manchester, and I do, I can’t say I’m surprised. She plays everything close to the vest. My money’s also on this being a weeklong romance at best.” He sipped at his water and frowned at the table. “Hmm. Looks like your options are either hard liquor or white wine. Warm white wine, but it’s shit white in a box, so who cares, right?” He filled a glass and handed it to Kelly. “Drink this and stop looking so nervous.”

“It’s just weird. We’re the only guys here.”

“Oh, more will show up. Trust me. Not our kind, though.” He linked Kelly’s arm through his. “Let’s go find the music. I like dancing with lesbians.”

Kelly thought at first that was either a joke or a euphemism for something, but it turned out Walter meant that comment literally. No sooner did he have Kelly set up with a trio of not-that-drunk (and not making out, thank God) girls on a sofa, he disappeared into the middle of the room, where he began dancing with an abandon Kelly hadn’t ever seen him exhibit, not at Moe’s, not anywhere. Kelly watched Walter move, transfixed.

“He’s so cute.” The girl next to Kelly—Tricia, Kelly thought her name was—leaned her head on Kelly’s shoulder and smiled as Walter shimmied behind a laughing girl who moved in sync with him. “Except he’s gay, dammit.”

“And you’re a lesbian,” the girl on her other side said, and they all laughed.

Kelly felt dazed. God, Walter just…
moved
. For a long time Walter danced and Kelly watched him, sometimes talking to the girls who sat next to him—they kept getting up and new ones sat in their places—and then after about a half hour, as a song ended, Walter came over, sweat-soaked, and collapsed next to Kelly.

“Shit.” He laughed, relaxed and happy, and he glanced at Kelly’s glass. “You need another?”

Kelly peered into his cup. It was empty. Huh. That would explain why he felt buzzy.

Walter popped back to his feet with a wink. “Be right back,” he said, and he was, with a new glass for Kelly and another bottle of water for himself. He was about to sit down when a girl grabbed him and hauled him back onto the floor.

Kelly had half a minute to observe them, that odd feeling of longing stirring in him again, and then someone grabbed
his
arm too.

He danced stiffly at first, but soon the wine and the gentle teasing of his partner relaxed him, and he began to loosen up. It
was
fun to dance with a bunch of lesbians or nearly lesbians, because yeah, nobody gave a shit about what he looked like or how badly he danced. Even when a girl with shock-red hair plastered herself tight against him, her tits mashed to his chest and his—limp—cock squashed along her thigh, it was so clear neither of them were turned on
at all
, and as such they could both let go and act like total sluts. Laughing, he tossed up his hands and danced. Someone handed him another drink, this one smelling tart and intense, but he drank it anyway.

He was having
fun
. So much fucking
fun
.

When he heard the familiar thumping beats of “Wild Ones” begin to play—they’d finally picked his iPod, apparently—he gave a hearty
woot
and threw himself into his boogie with an abandon he didn’t know he had in him. Somehow he’d become the center of a circle—he could see the straight boys now, mingled in amidst the girls, all of them looking slightly lost and out of place, and it was funny so he laughed. Hands slid down his arms, making him shiver, and as someone pressed against his back, he caught the familiar scent of cologne.

Walter’s thumb brushed Kelly’s wrist. “You’re having a good time.”

“Yeah.” Kelly tried to smile over his shoulder, but Walter’s hand skimmed his hip, and he jerked, glad Walter couldn’t feel the sudden erection that sprang up at the contact.

Walter gripped Kelly’s hip more firmly, holding him in place. “Hey—it’s just me, goofball. What, you can’t dance with me the way you were dancing with Sally?”

No, Kelly couldn’t. Except as Sia’s voice boomed out over the room and Walter led him into a sway, Kelly started to wonder if maybe he could.
It’s just dancing,
he told himself. Because the truth was, he did want to dance with his roommate. He wanted Walter to dance with him the way he’d been dancing with the girls, and Kelly wanted to let go enough to be the way he’d been with his own partners. He wanted to be able to feel that relaxed with Walter.

He couldn’t do that, though, because then Walter would know. Hell, he’d feel, because even
this
subtle contact had Kelly hard as a rock.

“Hush.” Walter’s lips grazed his ear, making Kelly shiver. That made Walter laugh, though not unkindly. “Is that it? You’re being self-conscious because I’m turning you on?” When Kelly said nothing, Walter snorted and pulled Kelly against his body.

Kelly shuddered.
Hard
—Walter was as hard as Kelly was. “Walter,” he croaked, his entire body turning to jelly. Except his screaming dick.

Walter kept them moving, his touches gentling, soothing, even as they kept in time to the beat. “Babe, it’s fine. We’re both guys. We both like guys. We’re both hot, so we get turned on by each other. Big deal. You don’t have to be embarrassed about it.”

He turned Walter on? He was a hot guy? Kelly angled his head around, needing to see Walter’s face.