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“I can’t actually measure how wrong you are,” Liebgott says.
“Maybe because you can’t count that high,” Webster replies.
“Well, at least you know how wrong you are.”
“Oh good lord, they’re pre-fucking again,” Skip says, dropping his head into his hands. Penkala pats him on the back in sympathy and looks over his shoulder to watch the fight happening twenty feet away on the quad.
“Pre-fucking?” O’Keefe asks.
“God, new guy, get with it,” Luz says.
“I’ve been here a month!” O’Keefe protests. He’d transferred at semester, taking the second bed in Perconte’s room because Perconte’s roommate had transferred to a different school himself.
“And you still don’t know about the pre-fucking,” Luz replies, tone dripping with disappointment. “He doesn’t know, Joe.”
“It’s a sad thing,” Toye agrees, throwing his arm around Luz’s shoulders. “You think a new guy would know about the pre-fucking by now.”
O’Keefe looks at Perconte. “Come on. Take pity.”
“Your rommate’s fucking clueless, Frank,” Bull says.
“Oh, really?! The fuck is that supposed to mean?!” Liebgott yells, and it’s louder than last time.
“Could we have one conversation about politics where you don’t just yell at me?!” Webster replies.
“They’re gonna do this for about another five minutes,” Frank tells O’Keefe, taking pity. “And then they’re gonna go back to Webster’s room and fuck each other into next week.”
O’Keefe looks horrified. “I shouldn’t have asked.”
“You should have known,” Johnny says.
“Subtle they ain’t,” Bull agrees.
“Have we ever settled the bet on them?” Malarkey asks Skip, jerking a thumb towards Bull and Johnny.
“I haven’t,” Skip says. “But you feel free to ask.”
“Ask what?” Nixon says as he walks up with Dick. Skip and Penkala scoot down to make room for them on the bench.
“I am not responsible for every stupid thing a rich guy does, Liebgott! For fuck’s sake!”
Nixon glances towards the other end of the quad. “Pre-fucking, huh?”
“Yup,” Skip says.
“Someone should really talk to them about that. It’s not really healthy communication,” Dick says.
“You feel free to interrupt them,” Nixon says.
Dick snorts. “No, thanks, Lew. You’re enough trouble.”
Nixon grins and bumps Dick’s shoulder with his own. “Now, what were we feeling free to ask?”
“Nothing,” Skip says.
“Totally nothing,” Malarkey adds.
Nixon looks at Penkala, who cracks up but doesn’t answer. He looks at Perconte who gives him an arch look that tells him he’s not gonna get anything from him. Bull and Johnny are in their own conversation, same with Luz and Toye. That leaves O’Keefe. O’Keefe meets Nixon’s eyes for about three seconds, looks down, glances at Bull and Johnny, and looks down again. “Ah,” Nixon says. “You still haven’t asked?” he asks Skip.
“Well, as Bull could crush me by sitting on me, I haven’t seen it as a prudent move.”
“Who am I sitting on?” Bull asks, breaking away from his conversation with Johnny.
“No one!” Skip yelps. “Absolutely no one. Maybe Malark.”
“Oh, fuck you very much,” Malark replies.
“No,” Skip says. “Gingers have no souls.”
“I’m right here,” Dick says.
“You’re a daywalker, Dick. Different thing,” Penkala assures him, and he and Skip share a serious nod.
“I tan!” Malark says.
“Bullshit,” Skip and Penkala respond in unison.
“You really haven’t asked them?” Nixon asks Penkala.
“You ask them,” Penkala says.
Nixon laughs. “Oh, god no.”
“What aren’t we asking?” Dick asks, looking up from his book. Nixon leans over and whispers it to him, and Dick gives Nixon a long-suffering look. “Really?”
“Well, maybe all the fucks in your tax bracket shouldn’t be so fucking pleased with tax dodging!” Liebgott yells. They all turn to check progress. Liebgott and Webster are about a foot apart, leaning in hard towards one another.
“Or, you could break up that,” Nixon says to Dick.
“Or I could do neither,” Dick replies and pointedly looks back at his book.
Speirs and Lipton walk up as Webster yells something about “chip on your shoulder the size of a goddamn mountain,” and Liebgott shoves him in the chest. “Oh, Jesus Christ, are they doing this again?” Speirs asks.
“You know, they never actually stay mad at each other,” Lipton says. “Some people just yell it out.”
“How would you know?” Speirs asks him. “You don’t even yell at the drunks who yell in the hallways after curfew.”
“It’d just wake up more people,” Lipton replies.
Speirs looks around the table. “No one’s going to handle this?” He asks. “They’re making a scene.”
“They’re always making a scene,” Penkala says. “They don’t mind.”
“I fucking mind. It’s annoying.” Speirs hops up on the bench and cups his hands around his mouth. “Liebgott! Webster! Have some damned class!”
They turn to glare at Speirs in unison. Webster looks equal parts embarrassed and mutinous. Liebgott is simply pure mutiny, flipping Speirs off and opening his mouth to let loose something that doesn’t come out because Webster covers his mouth and then drags him in the direction of his dorm.
“My hero,” Skip says, fluttering his eyelashes.
“Not interested,” Speirs replies as he sits down and lets Lipton take his hand.
“I didn’t say my sexual hero,” Skip says. “But as long as you’re here taking care of shit—“
“No!” Malark yelps.
“You should ask Bull and Johnny a question.”
“I know which question you want to ask, and the answer is no,” Speirs replies.
“We already know,” Lipton says.
“Same,” Nixon adds.
“Yup,” Toye says.
“Wait. No. You just said you didn’t know!” Skip says to Nixon.
“I never said I didn’t know,” Nixon says. “I said I wouldn’t ask.”
“Cheater,” Skip declares. “You’re a cheater.”
“Oh, screw it!” O’Keefe says, slamming his hands on the table. “Bull. Johnny. Are you guys together?”
Nixon bursts out laughing, but the rest of the table is completely quiet. Bull and Johnny break off their conversation and stare at O’Keefe.
“What?” Bull asks.
“Are you two together?” O’Keefe asks. “Skip’s too chickenshit to ask.”
“Hey!” Skip yells.
“Skip’s too chickenshit to do a lot of things,” Johnny says.
“Oh, come on!”
“No one’s doubting the chickenshit of Skip Muck,” Luz says.
“Up yours!”
“But are you guys a thing?” Luz asks.
“Yeah,” Bull says like it’s a foregone conclusion. “It’s not like we been shy about it.”
“No kidding,” Johnny agrees, and they turn back into their conversation, Bull grinning when Johnny rolls his eyes.
“Ain’t been shy about it,” Malark mutters. “Someone should teach them what shy means.”
“Or maybe you should count yourselves lucky you can’t tell when they’re pre-fucking,” Lipton says.
“That,” Skip says. “I like that.”
“Speaking of pre-fucking,” Nixon says to Dick.
“No,” Dick says. “I have to finish this review before class in an hour.”
“I can be quick.”
Dick glances up at Nixon, then back at his book. He closes his book. “All right,” he says, and they get up and leave.
“I am scarred for life,” Malarkey says to Skip, and he, Penkala, and Skip make a break for it.
“C’mon,” Frank tells O’Keefe. “Let’s grab lunch.” They go as well.
“Did this just turn into a triple date?” Luz asks.
“If it is, it’s the laziest one I’ve ever been on,” Bull replies.
“Well, I can’t have that mark on my record,” Luz says and drags Toye off with him.
“I need to run by the library,” Lipton says.
“I’ll come,” Speirs replies.
“See you, boys,” Bull calls with a wave over his shoulder. He turns back to Johnny and grins. “Told you they’d finally ask.”
“Never thought it’d be O’Keefe.”
“Aw, he’s got more spine than we give him credit for.”
“Yeah,” Johnny agrees. He grins when Bull leans in and kisses him. “I got class in ten minutes.”
“Yeah, I know,” Bull replies. “See you back at the room after?”
“Yup.”
“Wanna skip the pre-fucking and just get right to it?”
Johnny grins. “Absolutely.”