Page 49 of Ancient History

HUTCH

Chase’s face lit up when he opened the door. He had a similar idea, wearing a shirt with dancing flamingos on it.

“Love the shirt!” He threw his hand up for a hi-five, which I had no choice but to proudly reciprocate. “I thought I was going to be the only person wearing a fun shirt, which I suppose makes sense since it’s my birthday.”

“Your shirt is awesome. Makes me want to go to Florida.” I clapped him on the shoulder, happy to have at least one person here who likes my shirt. It gave me a swell of confidence.

“Thanks for coming, guys.” He stepped aside. “We’ve got drinks and snacks and cupcakes.”

“Happy birthday, bud. Sorry my guys almost set your lab on fire last year.” Raleigh gave Chase a pat on the back.

“That’s why they invented fire extinguishers.”

Raleigh turned to me. “Some of my players are really into fire.”

“Noted,” I said and waded into the party.

I had to take a second to soak in how nice Amos’s condo was. The kitchen had a breakfast counter that looked out on an open living room with woodsy views. It was sweet digs that I wish I had. Hats off to Amos for having his shit together enough to afford a place like this. That was one area where he had me beat.

Speaking of Amos, I wasn’t looking for him, but I was curious. I mean, he had to be here. It was his place.

Meanwhile, my shirt was peacocking exactly as Raleigh intended. Heads turned my way and guffawed and nodded at the retro-ness. Overall, the response was positive. People were taken aback, but they dug it. I walked around with confidence. I owned it, and was ready to party.

By the TV, the head I cared about most turned my way. I couldn’t take in Amos’s reaction because I was too busy having a reaction of my own. He looked fucking hot. Damn. He wore slim black jeans and a v-neck black T-shirt that reminded me of how delicious his chest was. This was atypical Amos wardrobe, a one-eighty from nerdy chic that I fully endorsed.

When I snapped back to reality, I was presented with his intrigued eyes, crinkling with laughter.

“If you hate it, blame Raleigh.”

“No. No, I like it…you do know this wasn’t a theme party. You could’ve worn normal clothes.”

“Eh, I wear normal clothes all the time. I decided to shake things up.” I puffed out my chest to fully embrace the corniness of my shirt. Amos liked it, and that was all that mattered.

Amos smiled to himself, something brightening his eyes. “I remember that shirt. Spirit Week senior year. You wore it for ‘90s day.”

“Guilty. I decided to peacock tonight.”

“Success.” Amos leaned in slightly, giving me an extra glimpse down his shirt of his smooth chest. I wanted to lick it like an ice cream cone in hundred degree heat. “Did you want a drink?”

I needed to quench my thirst because my throat just got uncomfortably dry.

“Sure!”

He led me to the breakfast nook counter which had a bar set up and stools that were likely used for quick meals during the week. A short guy with a big smile poured tropical drinks into plastic cups.

“We have a special drink menu for Chase’s birthday.” Amos handed over a laminated menu with fun drinks. Fanciest party trick I’d ever seen.

“And if you don’t like those, I can make you something else,” said the bartender. “At least for another hour. Then I have to get to my actual job.”

“Charlie’s my friend and the assistant manager at Stone’s Throw Tavern,” Amos said. “Hutch is a teacher at South Rock, and we went to high school together.”

Amos’s ears got a touch red at what I can imagine was the information that he left out.

If Charlie had any inkling who I was, he didn’t show it. He mixed me up a Sodium Chloride Dog, which was a fancy (or nerdy) way of saying a Salty Dog, which had grapefruit juice and vodka. The pinkish color reminded me of burning summer sunsets.

“Cheers.” I held up my glass to Amos’s. The clink sparked in my chest. “This is much nicer than the parties we used to go to in high school.”

Memories of bad beer, kegs, crowded basements all flooded back. Our quest for alcohol and party space as underage kids meant that we had no standards and were fine with it.

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