The Geek and His Best Friend (The PCU Geeks #2)

The Right Side of the Bed （For Safety Reasons）

LEO

The Geek House. We actually call it that. Nobody's embarrassed. I like that about us.

Fuck. Back to the textbook. Conditional probability, the probability of event A occurring given that event B has already occurred. Simple stuff. I've taught this concept to three different study groups.

So why can't my brain hold onto a single sentence?

I read the first line again. Then again. The words are English. I know they're English. But they're just… sliding off my brain like water off a duck's back.

Headlights sweep across the front window. My head snaps up before I can stop it.

JP doesn't even look up from his organic chemistry textbook.

Haru's still typing away at the dining table.

Elliot's got his headphones in, sheet music spread across his lap, and…

wait, he's eating the burned popcorn. Just munching away like it's not charcoal.

Does he even notice? Probably not. Headphones mean a full shutdown of all other senses.

Just a car driving by. Obviously. I force my eyes back to page 247. Conditional probability. Given that B has occurred, the probability of A is…

The car engine cuts off outside. It's fine. Probably a neighbor. Or someone visiting the house next door. There's no reason to—

A door slams. There are footsteps on the walkway.

I am NOT waiting for Max to get home. I'm studying. I'm a graduate-level Theoretical Physics student working on my statistics minor, and I have a quiz on Monday, and I need to…

Keys jingling. My textbook might as well be blank for all the information I'm retaining right now. The front door doesn't open. It explodes inward.

"THAT ABSOLUTE DUMPSTER FIRE OF A HUMAN BEING!"

Max storms into the living room and—

He looks… he looks really good. Skinny black jeans, blue Converse, that Demon Slayer shirt that fits him perfectly under his grey hoodie. His blue hair is messed up like he's been running his hands through it, and his face is flushed. He's in date clothes.

Wait, why is he home already? It's only been, I check my phone, two hours? That's… that's early, right? Is that early?

"Max?" Haru's already closing his laptop, concern written across his face.

"I'm fine." Max throws his keys at the bowl by the door. They miss entirely, skitter across the floor, and end up under the couch. "I'm fine. I'm just… argh!"

He starts pacing. Three steps one way, spin, three steps back. His hands are flying everywhere, nearly taking out the lamp. He's home. He's safe. He's pissed off, but he's here and not still out with that guy and… Why am I relieved?

JP carefully marks his page and sets his book aside. Elliot takes off his headphones, which means this is serious, because he never takes them off unless it's serious. I close my textbook. Not like I was reading it anyway. "What happened?" The words come out a little intense.

Max whirls on me. "He was a d-i-c-k. With a capital D. Actually, all caps. All caps D-I-C-K."

"Okay," JP says calmly. "Start from the beginning."

"The beginning." Max resumes pacing. "Okay. So. We meet at this restaurant, right? Nice place. Sit down, and the first thing he does, first thing, is look me up and down and says, 'Interesting outfit choice.'"

My jaw clenches.

"Not 'you look nice' or 'hey, glad you could make it' or literally anything normal. Just 'interesting outfit choice' with this little—" Max does an extremely punchable impression of a condescending smirk. "This little look, you know?"

"Your outfit is great," I say. It's true, Max looks great. He always looks great. Why would anyone not think he looked great?

"Thank you!" Max gestures at me emphatically. "Thank you. That's what a normal person says! But no, this guy starts with a fashion critique and then makes like three comments about my body. Calling me 'spinner' and asking if I was 'flexible.' Which, gross. Super gross."

"Nani kore," Haru says quietly.

"I know you just said 'what the fuck' in Japanese." I take a breath, but it doesn't calm me down.

Max keeps talking. "So I'm already annoyed, but I'm also starving, so I ordered appetizers, an entrée, and dessert. Spent like a hundred of his dollars out of spite."

A tiny smile tugs at my mouth despite the anger choking the back of my throat.

"Then he suggests we go to this pub he knows for drinks. And I don't know, I thought maybe—" Max's voice gets smaller. "Maybe I was being too sensitive? Maybe he was nervous, and it would get better? So I said okay."

"Max—" I start.

"I know. I know, okay? But I wanted it to work.

I wanted—" He shakes his head. "Anyway. We get to the pub, and he sits on the same side of the booth as me, which was weird, but I didn't say anything.

And then he says—“ Max's face twists. "'Come on, it's not like it was a date date.

We all know what these auctions are really about. '"

Haru's expression goes very still.

"Oh, I asked," Max continues. "I said, 'What do you mean it won't matter?

' and he does this… this icky WINK, and says, 'It's not like gay guys are hard to get into bed.

I'm including myself in that, by the way.

' Like that makes it better. Like self-awareness about being a sleaze somehow cancels out the sleaze!

And then—" Max's hands clench into fists.

"Then he goes, 'I guess it won't matter much anyway,' and laughs. "

My neck goes hot. My jaw aches from clenching.

"He said that?" Elliot asks quietly.

JP's expression has flattened. The way it does when he's controlling what he's feeling underneath. I've seen that look before, and it never means anything good. "What happened next?" JP's voice is careful. Too careful.

"He grabbed my hand and said, 'So let's go…" He doesn't say the word. He hates the word. "Let's go… boink… already,' and tries to pull me toward the bathroom."

No, he fucking didn't. My hands won't stop shaking. I press them flat against my thighs to make it stop. I want to find this guy. I want his address. I want to—

"Did he—" JP leans forward, elbows on his knees. His voice is level, but his eyes are intense. "Max. Did he try to force you to do anything?"

The room goes quiet. Max blinks. He stops pacing. "No." He shakes his head quickly. "No, nothing like that. When I said no, he let go. He was a prick about it, said I was 'playing games' and 'leading him on', but he didn't try to force me. I promise."

The knot in my throat loosens slightly.

JP nods slowly. "Okay. Good. That's… okay."

I'm glad JP asked. I wanted to know, needed to know, but the words were stuck behind the anger I am trying to swallow.

Max's face twists with disgust. "He got all pissy when I pulled away. Said I was missing out on the best… schmucking… I'd ever get, and good luck finding someone who'd want a 'frigid little geek' anyway."

I go blank for a second. "He said that?" The words come out flat; I’m barely holding in rage on my best friend’s behalf.

"Yep. So I told him to go bang himself since he clearly had the most practice, and I walked away."

"Is there a demographic that finds that manner of talk sexy?" Haru asks.

"No," I say flatly.

Max stops pacing and looks at me. "Right? Right? It's not just me! I'm not being oversensitive or—"

"You're not being oversensitive. He's an asshole. You're allowed to be pissed."

"I'm pissed! I wasted my entire evening on that butthole." Max throws his hands up. "The audacity. He acted like I did something wrong. Like I'm the problem for not wanting to screw some jerk I just met!"

"Good," I say

"Good?"

"Yeah. Good. He deserved it."

Max stops. Stands in the middle of the living room, looking at me with an expression I can't quite read. His eyebrows pull together slightly, worry creasing the corners of his eyes. It's like he's worried he did something wrong… He didn't.

Then he's back, pacing across the carpet. "The bartender saw the whole thing and asked if I needed a ride. I said yes and hid in the corner until my Uber showed up while D-i-c-k Cheese sulked at the bar."

He stops moving, and for the first time since he stormed in, Max looks… Small. Max never looks small. He's all chaos, energy, and wild hand gestures. But right now his shoulders are hunched, and his eyes are tired, and deep inside I hurt for him.

Before I can move, Haru's already crossing the room. He pulls Max into a gentle hug, and Max melts. His shoulders drop. His eyes close.

"You deserve better," Haru says quietly.

"I know." Max's voice is muffled against Haru's shoulder. "I just wanted… I thought maybe—" He doesn't finish.

When Haru lets go, Elliot's right there. He doesn't say anything, opens his arms, and Max takes the hug. He holds on for a long moment.

"Thanks, guys." Max manages a wobbly smile when he steps back. "I'm okay. Really. Just needed to rant."

Then he turns and walks straight toward me.

I don't think. For once, I don't analyze.

I shift sideways on the couch, and Max throws himself half across my lap like he's done a thousand times before.

His head lands on my shoulder. His legs tangle with mine.

His weight settles against me, warm and solid.

My hand goes to his hair automatically. Threading through the blue strands. My fingers know the pattern, the way his hair curls slightly at the ends, the spot behind his ear where it's softest.

Max makes this small sound. Not quite a sigh. Not quite a hum. He burrows closer, and breathing becomes this manual thing I have to think about. In. Out. Don't forget to inhale. Max's hair is tickling my jaw, and apparently I forgot how breathing works.

Across the room, JP is looking at me. I mouth, "He needs to calm down.

" Which is true. Max is still vibrating with residual anger and hurt.

Physical comfort helps him regulate. We've been doing this for years.

JP holds my gaze for another beat before he nods and looks away.

I keep running my fingers through Max's hair.

He's coming apart against me, tension draining away with each pass.

This is fine. This is what friends do.