Chapter 19
Operation: Social Integration
Sebastian
The living room looks like a library exploded and had babies with a robotics lab. Books stacked on every surface, circuit boards scattered between throw pillows, and Leo's half-finished cosplay armor taking up the entire coffee table.
Home.
"So," JP adjusts his glasses, pulling out an actual color-coded chart. "I've been thinking—"
"Dangerous," Luca mutters from his spot on the floor, laptop balanced on his knees.
"—about our collective social situation." JP unfolds what appears to be a… presentation. On an actual poster board. With graphs and everything. "Gentlemen, I present: Operation Social Integration."
"Did you seriously make a presentation?" I ask, but I'm distracted by my phone buzzing.
Sisters From Hell
Gabi
Mamma wants to know why you haven't called
Shit, I'm in trouble.
"Of course, I made a presentation," JP says, like that's normal. "We need structured approaches to meeting potential partners. I've identified key campus locations, optimal interaction times, and—"
"JP," Leo says gently, not looking up from hand-stitching what looks like scale mail. "You can't schedule romance."
"You can schedule opportunities for romance," JP insists, pointing at his chart with an actual laser pointer. Where did he even get that? "Look, we all agree we need to actually try dating, right? Not just—" He makes a vague gesture.
"Hookups," Leo supplies, then yelps as Max throws a pillow at his head. "What? I'm being honest!"
"Some of us would settle for hookups," Luca grumbles. "At least that's human contact."
My phone buzzes again.
Sophia
She's in A Mood. Fair warning
Me
What kind of mood?
Gabi
The kind where she interrogates us about your love life
Shit shit shit.
"Speaking of human contact," Max bounces on his cushion pile, grinning wickedly. He's basically built himself a nest in the corner, surrounded by soft things in various shades of purple. "Seb hasn't told us about the locker room yet."
"There's nothing to tell." My face goes hot.
"Bullshit," Luca says. "You came home looking like you'd seen God."
"I did not—"
"You literally walked into the door," Haru adds helpfully from his spot by the window. He's got his archery equipment spread out, doing maintenance while we talk.
"It was in my way!"
"The door's been there for two years," Leo points out.
Fine. They win. I slouch into the couch, covering my face. "We... might have gotten each other off in the showers."
The room explodes.
"Finally!”
"Was he all sweaty from practice?"
"Could he actually pick you up?"
"Guys—"
"Because you mentioned the picking up thing like seventeen times—"
"I did not mention it seventeen times!"
"You absolutely did," Elliot says from the corner, making everyone jump.
"Jesus Christ!" Max clutches his chest. "How are you so quiet? You're like a fucking ghost!"
Elliot shrinks back into his corner chair, looking embarrassed. "Sorry. I'll... make more noise next time?"
"Please try," Leo laughs. "One day you're gonna give Max a heart attack and then who'll make sure we eat vegetables?"
"I'm telling you," I say, desperate to change the subject from my sex life, but I can't seem to stop, "he was just... there. Against the wall. And his hands are so big, and he just lifted me like I weighed nothing—"
"Like, you don't understand, his hands are fucking massive.
Could probably palm a basketball. Did palm my entire— And when he lifted me?
Just..." I make a whooshing gesture. "Up.
Like I'm made of fucking air. Not even breathing hard while I'm trying not to die because his biceps are right there and flexing and—"
My voice is getting higher. I can't stop talking. OMG, stop talking! My mouth keeps spewing way too much information.
"And the sounds he makes. These little growls when I touch him right, like he's trying to hold back but can't? Fucking hell.
Like touching a live wire, but better because it's warm and solid and…
And he's so careful with all that strength?
Like he could easily bench press me, but instead, he's holding me like I'm special…
but also exactly rough enough when I asked and—"
"The wall was cold, but he was so hot I thought I'd combust. Pressed right up against— everywhere, okay? Everywhere. And his thighs are like tree trunks, I swear to god, the muscle definition when he braced to hold me up..."
I'm gesturing wildly now, face getting hot.
"And when he— fuck, the way he looks at you? Like you're the only thing in the entire universe? While doing things with his tongue that should be illegal in at least forty states. Maybe all fifty. Definitely Canada and Mexico too. International tongue crimes—"
"Eighteen times!” Luca shouts, marking a tally on his laptop.
I freeze mid-gesture. Everyone's staring at me. My face goes nuclear.
Oh god. Did I just? Say all that. Out loud.
"International tongue crimes?" Leo asks, barely containing laughter.
"I hate all of you."
My phone won't stop buzzing.
Sophia
Did you meet someone?
Gabi
Is that why you're skipping dinners?
Me
I'm STUDYING
Gabi
Sure, studying is what it's called
"Okay, but seriously," JP waves his presentation again. "We need to talk about systematic approaches to social interaction. According to my research—"
"Your research?" Max asks.
"I analyzed successful relationship formations across campus. Did you know 73% of lasting couples meet through shared activities rather than parties or apps?"
"How do you even know that?"
"I... may have created a survey." JP adjusts his glasses. "Anonymous, of course. Statistically significant sample size."
We all stare at him.
"This is why you're single," Luca says, but it's fond. "You turned dating into a math problem."
"Everything can be improved with proper data analysis!" JP protests. "Which brings me to my first point. Luca, you're first on my intervention list."
"Why am I first?" Luca looks offended, snapping his laptop shut.
Everyone exchanges glances.
"Your last first impression involved explaining cryptocurrency for twenty minutes," Leo says gently.
"She asked about my major!"
"She asked your name," Max corrects.
"...Oh." Luca slumps. "Okay, fair. I'm bad at first impressions."
"You're not bad," I say, trying to be supportive while typing frantically. "You just need to... ease into the technical stuff."
"Says the guy who opened with 'I could remove your appendix' as a pickup line," Luca shoots back.
"That was one time!”
"It worked, though," Max grins. "Your football man loves the medical talk."
"He's not my—" I stop. "Okay, he is my football man."
"Can you teach me?" Luca asks suddenly, earnest in that way that makes you want to help him. "How to talk to people? Like, normal people who don't code?"
"I—"
"Because I'm tired of it," he continues, picking at his laptop sticker. "My ex... when we broke up, I took a different route to classes for a month just to avoid him. And I realized I don't want to be that person anymore. The one who hides."
The room goes quiet. Luca doesn't talk much about his ex.
"Plus," he adds with forced brightness, "I've practiced so many conversation starters from YouTube tutorials, I should probably actually use them, right?"
"Oh my god, is that why you asked me about the weather patterns last week?" Leo asks. "That was practice?"
"Maybe."
"Luca," I say seriously. "I'll help. But you know you're already interesting, right? You don't need to be someone else."
"Thanks for the vote of confidence," he laughs, but I can see the determination there. He wants to find someone who'll appreciate his cryptocurrency rants, his perfectly organized code, and the way he lights up when talking about language structures.
More phone buzzing.
Mamma
Your sisters say you have news to tell me
Me
My sisters are liars
Mamma
Hmm
That 'hmm' is terrifying.
"Well, at least Luca's trying," Max says, throwing another pillow, this time at Haru. "Our international heartthrob over here actually gets dates and then friend-zones them!"
"I didn't friend-zone Jamal!" Haru protests, setting down his bow. "We just... didn't click romantically."
"You went out with the football captain?" JP's eyes go wide. "The quarterback? How did I miss this data point?"
"It wasn't a big deal." Haru fidgets with an arrow. "He wanted to learn about Japanese culture for a class, we got coffee, talked for three hours, and..." He shrugs. "Nothing. Nice guy, very handsome, but zero spark."
"At least you've had a college date," Max sighs dramatically. "That's better than the rest of us. Except Seb, who's gonna get the dicking down he deserves—"
I throw a pillow at his head. "Shut up!"
"Make me!" Max catches it and adds it to his nest. "I'm just saying, about time someone appreciates that ass. Your boy's got taste."
"Speaking of taste," Leo interjects, holding up his costume piece. "Can someone tell me if this color looks right? I'm trying to match the reference image, but—"
"Leo," JP interrupts. "You're deflecting. We need to talk about Statistics Guy."
Leo's shoulders hunch. He focuses very hard on his stitching. "There's nothing to talk about."
"Bullshit," I say. "Max told me you ran away mid-conversation."
"I forgot his name!" Leo's voice cracks. "He was standing right there, being all cute with his glasses and his smile, and my brain just... deleted his name. Mark? Mark or something with an M. And I panicked and said I had to go iron my cat."
"You don't have a cat," Elliot points out quietly.
"I know I don’t have a cat!” Leo drops his cosplay, burying his face in his hands. "I'm a disaster. A tall, gangly disaster who can't even remember hot boys' names."
Max immediately scoots over, wrapping an arm around Leo's shoulders. "Hey, it's okay. Everyone forgets names sometimes."
"You don't," Leo mumbles into his hands.