Page 31 of Bone to Pick
Beck slapped a hand over his mouth. “Sean! Shut it, we’re getting ready for some major tea. Spill it, Sunday. You can tell mama.”
“That night, you know? It was that night,” I admitted. “You know that night.”
They all looked at each other. “What is he talking about?” Toru asked in a stage whisper.
“Oh! Fuck. You went to his house, didn’t you?” Nolan asked.
“Wewent to the professor’s house,” Toru reminded him. “All of us. I remember that much, even if you don’t. And Porter got out so he could do his performance piece and…” They frowned. “Shit, I don’t remember.”
Sean pulled Beck’s hand down. “I do! I remember you texted us the next day to say you were fine but that you and tequila were breaking up for at least the rest of the semester. I figured you were as hungover as the rest of us, so it made sense that you haven’t been coming out with us on Thursdays… But Jesus Christ, Sunday, I feel like you left out a few pertinent details if you somehow fell in love with the man! Tell useverything.” He leaned forward on his elbows and propped his chin in his hands. Beck did the same. “You may begin now.”
I explained the basic events of the weekend—leaving out anything salacious—and then concluded, “He wouldn’t be with me because of the whole… student/teacher thing.” I waved my hand in the air. “Pfft. Ethics, shmethics. You know? If he wanted it badly enough, he’d have done it.”
“Mmm, I dunno. Couldn’t he be like… fired or some shit?” Beck asked.
“And could it have threatened you getting your degree?” Toru wondered in concern.
I groaned. “Don’t join his side. You’re on my side, remember? The side of no thoughts, just vibes.”
“Yes. Obviously.” Toru waved their hand in the air, just like I had. “Well, whatever could or couldn’t have happened doesn’t matter anymore, darling. Semester’s over. You’re an alumnus now. Ain’t nothin’ but a thing. Methinks we need to hire a car and driver for another visit up the mountain. Who’s with me?”
Everyone’s hands shot up… except mine.
“Oh, no,” I said firmly. “Hell no. No way. I’m not making a drunken fool of myself like that again.”
“He’s right,” Nolan said, nodding enthusiastically. “That was how he ended up in this trouble in the first place.”
“I don’t want him to think I’m a kid,” I whined… exactly like a kid.
Beck leaned toward me. “Did you fuck him?”
I refused to answer it with words, but my face turning fire-engine red did all the talking anyway.
“Oh my God,” she said with a laugh. “High-five, bro.”
I squeezed my eyes closed as she lifted my arm and high-fived my limp hand. “It’s more than that, Beck. I have real, capital-FFeelings for this man. I need help.”
Nolan nodded again. I was surprised he didn’t have cervical spine injuries from all the drunken nodding I’d seen him do this semester. “We’re here for you. For sure.For sure.”
Toru took a delicate sip of wine they’d gotten while I hadn’t been looking. “What if you took a home-cooked meal up to his place tomorrow night and surprised him with a romantic interlude?”
Nolan bobbed his head. “Candles and shit. I like it.”
Beck pursed her lips in thought. “Or… or what about writing him a sonnet. Super-meta, right?”
“Didn’t we do that last time? That poem was killer. It slayed.” Sean spoke around a mouthful of jalapeño popper. “I mean, I assume it did. I don’t remember a word of it. Did we actually write one?”
I shook my head. “Not that I recall. I ended up reciting Shakespeare’s, pretty sure.”
Toru sniffed. “Angry sonnets have their place, of course, but they are not the way to a man’s heart.”
“Muffins,” Nolan said, shooting me with a finger gun. “Muffins are the way.”
“Nonsense.” Toru rolled their eyes. “Love sonnets,” they insisted. “Love sonnets are the way.”
“A love sonnet?” I snorted. “No, that’s…” I paused for a long moment. “Wait. Alove sonnet.”
Toru nodded smugly. “It’s what us English scholars like to call amirror moment, baby.” They buffed their fingers on their sweater. “And my parents said it was a useless major. Pfft.”
