Page 3 of Guarded Love

"It's not that impressive," I mumble before I take a larger gulp of my drink this time. The alcohol burns a little less, or maybe I'm just getting used to it. "It's mostly just mindless clicking after a certain point."

"Don't sell yourself short," Blaise says. "It takes dedication. Strategy.”

As I feel my cheeks grow warm, I quickly realize that those words coming from him feel like the highest praise I’ve ever received. I finish the last of my drink in one go, and although I know I’m going to regret it in the morning, I can’t careless right now.

"Whoa there," Blaise says, his eyes widening as I set the empty cup down on a nearby table a little too forcefully. "Pacing yourself isn't really your thing tonight, huh?"

"Relax." I wave a hand dismissively, already scanning the room for where I can find another drink. "My tolerance is veryhigh." That is a total lie, but the alcohol is starting to fuzz the edges of my anxiety, making me feel bolder.

"Highest of tolerances, secret gaming skills... what other hidden talents are you hiding?" He pushes off the wall and his gaze lands on the doorway to the kitchen. "Need a refill?"

"Lead the way," I say. I immediately regret saying the words a little too eagerly, but I do my best to shake it off. After all, I can’t take them back now.

We make our way into the kitchen, and I have to admit the journey there was entertaining. At least three people try to hand us shot glasses, and I have to pull Blaise past a girl in a crop top who attempts to drag him into an impromptu game of beer pong. I am surprised to find it surprisingly less crowded given this is where the alcohol is. Someone has attempted to make jungle juice in a plastic storage bin, and the surrounding counter looks like a sticky, brightly colored warzone.

Blaise surveys the scene and then says, "Looks like someone lost a fight with a packet of Kool-Aid and a bottle of alcohol."

"Or maybe it was a science experiment gone wrong," I add, wrinkling my nose at the suspicious red concoction. "Test subject: Partygoers. Hypothesis: How quickly can jungle juice lead to poor life choices?"

"Observation: Rate appears exponentially high," Blaise counters as he stares at the bin. "Conclusion: Further research required, but perhaps not personally." He scans the counter and moves past the jungle juice. He grabs two unopened cans of beer from a cooler in the corner. "Safer bet?"

"Much safer," I agree as I accept the cold can. I pop the tab and look up as he does the same.

"So, back to your earlier observation.…” He takes a sip from his own can. “When you were people watching, did you find anything interesting?”

I pause, awkwardly I will admit, as I process what he said. The first thought that flies through my mind is why are we still talking to one another? This is probably the most time we’ve ever spent willingly speaking to each other. Usually, it's a head nod if we pass each other on campus or a quick hello if we see each other when I stop by his and Knox’s room.

"Actually, the most interesting thing I found tonight was you showing up," I say, the alcohol making me braver than usual. "Never thought I'd see you in a place like this without being physically dragged in by my brother or Wilder…speaking of which, where is he?"

I know my words make it seem as if I want Blaise to get away from me as quickly as possible, but that isn’t the case.

Blaise looks around like he's just remembered he was supposed to meet someone. "Honestly? No idea. He texted that he was 'on his way' about forty minutes ago, but knowing Wilder, he was probably coming from another party and got distracted or something."

I laugh despite myself. "That tracks."

"I should probably be annoyed, but..." He shrugs, his eyes finding mine again. "Can't say I mind how things turned out."

The statement hangs between us because I can’t figure out what to say in response tothat.I take another long swig of my beer to avoid responding for a moment. I need time to think.

"So," I say, desperate to change the subject, "what's your major again? I know Knox mentioned it, but..."

"Political Science," Blaise replies, seemingly grateful for the shift in conversation.

"Seriously?" I can't hide my surprise. "I would've thought you would choose CompSci or Engineering with all the gaming."

He laughs. "Everyone does. But I've always been fascinated by political theory and politics in general. The gaming is just a hobby."

"Huh." I take another swig of my beer, processing this new information. "So you're what…planning to save the world through policy reform?"

"If only it was that simple. I'd settle for making at least a small difference," he says with a small smile.

“Asmalldifference? I would say that’s not something a politician would say. They’d promise to give you the world.”

He laughs. “I’m a realist.”

I take another sip of my beer. That's a lie. It is more like a gulp. “Realists are boring.”

He gives me a look. “Didn’t you just say I was the most interesting thing you found tonight?”

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