Happy New Years… I Guess
MAX
JP corners me while I'm trying to decide between my pink robot shirt and my blue galaxy one. "So, about tonight."
"Yeah?" I hold up both shirts. "Which one?"
"Galaxy. Makes your eyes pop." He sits on my bed, which is currently covered in the clean laundry that I haven't put away yet. "Soooo, I talked to one of the Delta Psi Omega guys about you. His name is Jaren."
My hands freeze mid-shirt-swap. "You what?"
"Haru and I had lunch with some of his frat brothers yesterday." JP examines his nails like he's discussing the weather. "Jaren was there. He seemed decent, so I asked him some questions."
"You interviewed a frat guy about dating me?"
"It wasn't an interview. It was… preliminary screening.
" He straightens a corner of the whiteboard.
"He passed. So I mentioned you. Casually.
He didn't get weird about me asking questions.
He answered everything I asked. Said he wants to work with at-risk youth after graduation; kids in group homes, transitional housing, that sort of thing. "
My stomach does a quiet, embarrassing flip. I think about my mom's cooking, my dad's terrible jokes, and Isaac teaching me to ride a bike in the driveway. I had all of it. Some kids don't get any of it. And Jaren wants to show up for those kids. That's… I don't know. That's something pretty great.
"Anyway." JP picks invisible lint off my comforter. "He passed the first round. So I may have mentioned that my brilliant robotics engineer friend, who has blue hair and is very cute, might be open to meeting new people." JP shrugs. "He seemed interested."
"You did not describe me as ‘very cute’.”
"I said you were ‘attractive.' Same thing. I explained that this is a 'see how it goes' kind of night. No pressure. He was excited." JP picks up one of my socks, which has tiny atoms on it. "He also said the frat guys are ‘super happy’ we're all coming."
"Oh." I pull the galaxy shirt over my head. "That's… good?"
"Max." JP waits until I look at him. "He's a nice guy. Actually nice, not performing nicely. And I think you will find him basically attractive from what I have seen of your choices in men. Let's… have fun tonight, okay?"
"I can have fun." I grab my jeans off the floor. "I'm great at fun. I'm a fun guy."
"You're wearing two different socks."
I look down. One has atoms, one has cows. "They're both clean."
"That's not the point, you know what, never mind. It's very you." He stands, brushing invisible wrinkles from his perfectly pressed black jeans. "We're leaving in twenty. Don't overthink this."
Too late, my brain's already running scenarios, but good ones for once.
Jaren seems nice. JP vetted him. This could actually be good.
I realize, somewhere around pulling on my second sock, that I'm kind of excited about tonight.
I'm doing this. When I step out of my room, JP and Luca are there waiting.
"You look nice," Luca says, smiling at me.
"Thanks." I tug at my shirt. "You guys ready?"
"Almost." Luca adjusts his glasses. His hair is perfectly styled, undercut sharp. He's wearing dark jeans and a fitted burgundy sweater that looks great on him. "Del and I are heading to Eli's party in the arts building."
"Oh, right," Del mentioned that earlier. "Tell Eli I said hi?"
"Will do." Luca's mouth does this tiny smile thing. "Have fun tonight."
Del appears from Luca's room, pulling on his jacket. His hair is even more chaotic than usual, curling everywhere. "Max! Looking good, man. You're gonna kill it."
"I'm going to a New Year’s party."
"JP mentioned there's date potential." Del grins, slinging an arm around Luca's shoulders. Luca doesn't flinch like he would have in the past; he leans into it slightly, easy and comfortable. Something about that still gets me, how far they've come. Del is perfect for him. "That's huge! That's—"
"We're going to be late," Luca interrupts, but he's still smiling.
"Right, right. Okay, Max — be cool, be yourself, don't talk about robots for more than ten minutes straight—"
"That is being myself, though."
"—and text us if you need an exit strategy!" Del's already steering Luca toward the stairs, and I feel a small warm pulse of something watching them go. "Happy New Year!"
"Happy New Year!" I yell at their backs.
The house goes quiet for about thirty seconds. Then Elliot's door opens, and he shuffles out, wearing dark gray jeans and a black hoodie. His hair is slightly damp, pushed back. He looks… good. Like he fell out of bed and into his clothes, they're not too rumpled, so I think he actually tried.
"You clean up nice," I tell him.
"Thanks." He pulls his zipper down a little, then back up. "You look… good."
"My socks don't match."
"I noticed." He heads for the stairs. "Are we carpooling?"
"JP's driving." I follow him down. "You okay with crowds tonight?"
"I'll manage. If I need to leave—"
"—you'll text. Yeah, I know." We've done this dance before. Elliot has his limits, and that's fine. He always lets us know. "Just have fun while you're there."
"That's the idea, anyway."
We collect the others. JP's shaking his keys in his hand. Leo grabs his jacket from the hook as we pile out into JP's car. It's a small gray sedan that he maintains with showroom-level cleanliness. JP drives, Leo takes the passenger seat, Elliot and I sit in the back.
"Do you think they'll have the good beer? Not the bitter stuff?"
"Drew texted me earlier and said they got—" JP starts.
"Max." Leo's wedged against the dash, long legs folded awkwardly. He twists just enough to look at me. "Breathe."
"I am breathing! I'm excited! It's New Year's Eve, and we're going to a party and—"
"You've been to parties before," JP says, tone fond.
"Not like this! Not as a, well, almost a, it's complicated." My knee bounces hard enough to jostle Elliot into grabbing the door handle. I wince. "Sorry."
"If you vibrate any harder, you're going to phase through the seat," Elliot says, grinning. Leo snorts, and something about the sound settles me, just slightly.
The drive to the DPO house takes a few minutes. Campus is quiet; most people haven't come back from break yet, but the frat house is lit up like someone dumped fairy lights on every available surface. Music thumps from inside, bass rattling the windows.
"Okay." JP parks. Cuts the engine. Turns to look at all of us. "Ground rules. Don't get sloppy drunk. Answer your phones. If anyone makes you uncomfortable, find Drew or me. We leave by one AM."
"Yes, Dad," Leo mutters.
"I'm serious—"
"We know." Elliot's already unbuckling. "You've given this speech three times today."
JP huffs but doesn't argue. We pile out of the car. The January air is cool enough that my breath fogs. I shove my hands in my pockets and follow everyone up the walkway. My nose wrinkles. Someone's already thrown up in the bushes.
Classy.
Leo reaches the door first and knocks. It swings open immediately.
Drew, grinning wide, pulls him into a hug that lifts Leo slightly off his feet.
"You made it!" Drew's wearing jeans and a PCU Football shirt.
His hair is slightly mussed, like he's been running his hands through it.
"Come in, come in, holy shit, all of you came! "
"We said we would." JP steps inside, and I follow.
The house is packed. Bodies everywhere, music loud enough to feel in my sternum, someone's vaping in the corner, and the smell is sickly sweet.
Something flies across the room, looks like a rolled-up sock, and nails the vaper in the head.
"Take that crap outside!" someone bellows from deeper in the room.
"We're killing our livers, not our lungs! "
The entryway is packed. Someone pushes past me from behind, and I get shoved sideways into the staircase railing. It wobbles under my hand, loose at the bracket. I give it an experimental wiggle. Definitely needs a new bolt. I make a mental note.
Something sticks slightly under my shoe. I look down and don't see anything obvious, but there's a faint yeasty tang in the air. Beer. Someone spilled and didn't deal with it.
My brain catalogs details automatically: loose railing bolt, beer on the floor, speakers positioned wrong for the room's acoustics, a crack in the ceiling that—
"MAX!"
Someone barrels into our group like a missile. Arms everywhere. Happily shouting in Japanese. We go down like bowling pins. I hit the floor hard, someone's elbow in my ribs, Haru's weight on top of me, Leo's swearing, JP makes an oof sound that would be funny if I could breathe.
"Haru!" Drew's voice is laughing. "Dude, you can't tackle people!"
"Can't… breathe—" I wheeze. Hands grab my arms, not Haru's, bigger, and they haul me upright. I blink spots from my vision and focus on the person helping me. He’s tall.
Six foot three, maybe. Lean muscle, runner's build, not gym-bulky.
Dark blond hair catching red under the lights, messy in a way that looks intentional.
Hazel eyes, friendly. Freckles across his nose.
Good smile. Nice teeth. My brain is doing the thing again.
"You okay?" His voice is easy, casual. "Haru's enthusiastic when he drinks."
"Yeah, I—" I dust off my jeans. "Thanks."
"No problem." He lets go of my arms but doesn't step back. "You're Max, right? I'm Jaren."
Oh. This is my date. Sort of date. See-how-it-goes date. He's wearing fitted dark blue jeans and a red Henley that does genuinely unfair things for his shoulders, and my face goes warm before I can stop it. Basically attractive was an understatement.
"Hi. Yeah. Max. That's me. I'm Max."
"So you said." His smile gets wider, more amused. "Want a drink?"
"Yes. Please. That would be, yes." Smooth, Max.