Sawyer holds up one hand innocently; the other is clutching a White Claw.“You’re right, I shouldn’t lie.He’s actually not a nice guy at all.”
“Me?”Bryson exclaims, bringing his hands to his chest.“I’m the salt of the earth!Right Quinn?”
Quinn, who’s been engrossed in conversation with Molly near the beer pong table for at least twenty-minutes now, barely looks up.“That’s right, bud!”
I laugh.“Only good things, I swear.”
Sawyer hesitates.“Well, in the interests of honesty, I did just presume that you were probably difficult to live with.”
“Oh!”Bryson raises his eyebrows.“And what’d she say?”
“She didn’t answer yet.”
Bryson crouches down in front of me and rests his elbow on his knee.He drops his chin into his hand, letting a beer dangle from his fingers, and says, “Well, Carleigh?Am I difficult to live with?”
I laugh and glances down at my pale knees, then back up, not quite making eye contact.“He’s a great roommate,” I tell Sawyer truthfully.“He fixed the sink the other day.”
“See!”Bryson vaults to his feet.“Knew I’d come in handy, didn’t you, Carleigh?”
“Yes.I haven’t needed to use the step stool in weeks.”
Sawyer chuckles and downs the rest of her drink.“Well, I need another.You want anything, Carleigh?”
“Oh, no thank you.I’ve still got most of this left.”I hold up the kombucha in my hand.Then, feeling compelled as always to explain my sobriety, I add, “I’m not really much of a drinker, so I’m pacing myself until later.”I don’t add that one of the last times I drank around Bryson and Quinn, I ended up making an ass out of myself by hanging off of Bryson all night.He’d been nice about it, but I don’t want to make it a pattern with a guy who’s just my friend.
Sawyer doesn’t skip a beat.“Alright, well, I’ll be back!Don’t let Bryson rope you into playing ladder golf with him.He says he’s bad, but he’s actually the best here.”
Bryson grins down at me.“She isn’t lying, I’m the king.”Once Sawyer vacates her spot, he turns and plops down beside me.“So, having fun?”
“Yeah, I am!Everybody’s really nice.You were right, Bryson.Thanks for inviting us.”
“Anytime!”Bryson claps his hand down on his knee enthusiastically, then rises to his feet.“Now, come on.Sawyer probably warded you off ladder golf, but I promise I’m pretty bad at beer pong if you want to go lose to Quinn and Molly together.You can play with the ‘booch if you want, I’ll drink your shares.”He holds his hand out, offering it to me.
I’m also terrible at beer pong, but Bryson’s face is beaming hopefully at me like sunshine and roses.Plus, I’m probably the most sober person here.Maybe I’ll be able to use that to my advantage and narrow Molly’s margin of victory.So I agree, taking his hand.
Bryson pulls me easily to my feet.His hand drops from mine as soon as I’m standing, but then it’s big, warm and flat against my lower back as he guides me toward where Molly and Quinn are standing by the beer pong table.
“Quinn,” Bryson growls faux-menacingly.“You guys want to play?”
Molly smiles at me, a seemingly innocuous look I know is actually full of snark and unsaid teases.“Been a while since you’ve played beer pong.Do you think Trinity’s shoulder has recovered?”
“Ha ha,” I say dryly, shooting Molly a look.“She was fine.”
Bryson looks between us.“Something happen?"
“Yes,” Molly says, at the same time as I proclaim, “No.”
Quinn crosses his arms over his chest and grins widely.“There’s a story here.”
“There’s no story,” I insist.“I’m just - I can be a little competitive, and it backfired once.”
“A little competitive,” Molly repeats, doubling over with laughter.“Okay, sure.”
I rub the bridge of my nose, exasperated.“Look, it’s fine.I’ve evolved since then.Let’s play.”
I’m lying.I’ve not evolved since the time two years ago when I launched myself at an innocent bystander Trinity in celebration of winning a point over Molly, accidentally causing Trinity to strain her shoulder.I’ve probably actually regressed, if anything; now that the only person I compete with is myself, I can be as tough as I want without the pesky addition of acknowledging how the other person is feeling.
But hey, Bryson and Quinn don’t need to know that.