Chapter 6
Public Displays of Interruption
TYLER
Our little group wanders into the main living room. Ethan and Emily are still deep in conversation about theatre mistakes and ER nightmares. Ethan uses his hands when he talks, gesturing expressively as he describes some of the nasty things he's seen.
Drew has his arm draped around Emily's shoulders, looking amused as the two new friends bond over the strangest topics.
"INCOMING!" a voice bellows from the hallway.
We all turn to see Cameron barreling into the room, a red cup in each hand, weaving dramatically between partygoers. He's clearly attempting to slide into the empty armchair next to us, but he misjudges the distance, or his drunkenness.
"Watch the—" Drew starts, but it's too late.
Cameron's foot catches on the edge of the rug, sending him flying. Both drinks go airborne as he tumbles forward, missing the chair entirely and landing with a spectacular thud on his ass.
"Holy shit!" Emily gasps between shocked giggles.
Cameron groans, sprawled on the floor as beer drips from the ceiling. "I'm okay," he announces to the cheering crowd. "My pride isn't, but I am."
Drew and I move to help him up, each reaching for an arm, but Ethan steps forward quickly, raising his hand in a "wait" gesture.
"Hold on a second," he says, surprising us both with his sudden authority. "Don't move him yet."
We freeze, exchanging glances as Ethan kneels beside Cameron, his eyes scanning methodically over Cameron's sprawled form.
His hands move over Cam carefully, and his face changes from party-mode Ethan to someone who clearly knows what he's doing.
He gently presses two fingers against Cameron's wrist, checking his pulse, I realize, then tilts his head with a clinical gaze.
"Can you move your legs, okay?" Ethan asks, his voice taking on a calm, authoritative tone I hadn't heard before. When Cameron nods, Ethan's fingers trace a careful path along Cameron's lower back. "Any sharp pain here? Or just general soreness?"
Cameron blinks in surprise at the sudden medical assessment. "Just... sore, I guess?"
Ethan nods seriously, then with a completely straight face says, "You may have bruised your coccyx."
The room goes quiet. Cameron blinks at him. "My what now?"
"Your coccyx," Ethan repeats innocently, though I catch the slight twitch at the corner of his mouth.
Gavin, who's been watching from nearby, bursts into laughter. "He's saying you hurt your tailbone, dumbass."
"My—" Cameron's face goes from confused to understanding to embarrassed in seconds. "Oh! My... Yeah, probably did."
Everyone bursts out laughing, including Cameron. "I thought he was asking about my..." he makes a vague gesture toward his crotch, which only makes everyone laugh harder.
"If it was that," Ethan says dryly, "I'd be asking about your phallus, not your coccyx."
Gavin is practically howling now, wiping tears from his eyes. "Nursing students, man! They'll get you with the fancy bone names!"
When the laughter finally dies down, Cameron, now sprawled in the chair he aimed initially for, points at Ethan.
"You. I like you. You're funny." He squints slightly, noticing Ethan's outfit for the first time.
"And sparkly. Hey, you're in nursing, right?
Do you know any nurses who might want to come over?
We've got plenty to drink and the night is young. "
I watch Ethan laugh, loosening up after we all cracked up together. "I might know a few people who'd be up for it."
"The more, the merrier," Cameron says, still chuckling. "Especially if they're as funny as you. Tell them to bring friends!"
Ethan pulls out his phone and sends a quick text. Almost immediately, his phone buzzes with a response that makes him grin.
"My friend Jessica says, and I quote, 'HELL YES!!'" he announces, showing us the screen with multiple exclamation points and emojis. She's bringing Raj and Leila, too."
"Perfect," Cameron says, straightening his shirt as if that could erase his spectacular wipeout. "At least they missed my graceful entrance." With a scowl at his friends, he says, "Don't any of you assholes tell them!"
"Don't worry," Ethan tells him with a mischievous smile. "Nurses are good at keeping embarrassing injuries confidential."
As everyone laughs again, I catch Ethan's eye across the group. His smile shifts when our gazes lock, softer, more private, like we're sharing something just between us.
My stomach does that silly flip it's been doing all night, and I can't help but wonder if he feels it too. That moment of 'oh, there you are' recognition that makes no logical sense but feels right. He looks away first, drawn back into conversation with Cameron, but I still feel warm inside.
Grabbing two fresh drinks from the makeshift bar and make my way toward them. Cameron dramatically reenacts his fall, much to the amusement of a small crowd that's gathered.
"So then I was like—oh, hey VP!" Cameron interrupts himself as I approach. "Tell Nurse Hottie here that Grey's Anatomy is total bullshit."
Ethan rolls his eyes, accepting the drink I offer him with a grateful smile. "I never said it wasn't bullshit. I said the thoracotomy scene in season nine was actually decent."
"You work in a hospital, right?" I ask, seizing the opportunity to learn more about him. "Like, for real, not just for class?"
Smooth, Tyler. Real smooth. Ask him something he literally just told you five minutes ago. Maybe next you can ask if he's in nursing or if water is wet. Christ, is this what my brain does when faced with glitter and green eyes? Complete functional collapse?
The nervous tickle in my throat demands a quick ahem to clear. "Sorry, we already talked about that on the walk over, didn't we? My conversational skills apparently took a nosedive somewhere between the doorway and here."
"For now, I volunteer at University General," he explains, his face lighting up as though he doesn't mind telling me twice. "But yeah, I'm hoping to get hired in the ER after graduation. I love the unpredictability of it."
"That must be intense," I say, genuinely impressed. "Worst thing I've dealt with was when Gavin dislocated his shoulder trying to do a backflip off the roof into the pool."
Ethan winces. "Please tell me someone reduced it properly. No, wait. Let me guess: Someone found a video" how to, " and you guys tried to fix it yourselves."
"Wow, good guess. If by 'reduced it properly' you mean Drew YouTube'd it while I held Gavin down and Cameron pulled... then yes, very proper." I grin at the memory. "He screamed so loud that campus security showed up."
"That's actually more competent than some of what I've seen people try," he laughs. "The bigger they are, the more they think they're invincible. You wouldn't believe how many would-be daredevils I've seen come through those doors."
He sips his drink, his shoulder brushing against mine as someone squeezes past us. "You guys do take care of each other, huh?"
"Brotherhood isn't just a recruitment slogan," I say with a shrug. "We're family. Dysfunctional sometimes, but always there."
Something softens in his expression. "That's... really nice, actually."
The music changes to something with a heavier beat, and several guys whoop in approval.
"Dance with me?" The words leave my mouth before I can overthink them.
Surprise flashes across his face, followed quickly by hesitation. "I'm not really much of a dancer."
"That makes two of us," I admit. "But I'm willing to embarrass myself if you are."
He considers this for a moment, then sets his cup down with newfound determination. "You know what? Sure. Why the hell not?"
Leading him toward the area where furniture has been pushed aside to create a dance floor. As we start to move to the music, awkwardly at first, I notice how he keeps a careful distance between us, even with people packed in all around us.
"Your friends are surprisingly cool," he says over the music, glancing around at the party. "I didn't expect—"
"What, you thought we'd all be homophobic jerks?" I tease, slowly moving closer.
"Let's just say my expectations for frat guys weren't exactly high," he admits with a laugh. "You're kind of ruining my carefully constructed stereotypes."
"Happy to disappoint," I say simply. As the song shifts to something slower, I take a chance and place my hands lightly on his waist. "This okay?"
His eyes meet mine, searching for something. Whatever he finds makes him step closer, his arms tentatively resting on my shoulders. "Yeah," he says quietly. "This is okay."
Around us, the party continues in full swing. Nobody gives us a second glance. When Ethan realizes that we're just two more people dancing at a crowded party, I watch the tension in his shoulders ease away completely.
"You know," he says, leaning in so I can hear him over the music, "you're not what I expected, Tyler Landis."
"Good unexpected or bad unexpected?"
He smiles, a real smile that reaches his eyes. "Definitely good."
When the song ends, we're standing closer than we started, and neither of us seems in a hurry to step away. The same magnetic pull I've felt since first seeing him across campus is stronger than ever.
"So, why did you think we'd be jerks?" I ask, curious about his earlier comment.
"Well—," he shrugs. "Things didn't go well last time I went to a frat party.
It was all toxic masculinity, casual homophobia disguised as 'jokes,' and some outright gay bashing as the only form of entertainment.
There were some impressive abs doing keg stands, but then one guy freaked out when I looked at his abs, so… I left early."
"We'll do more keg stands later. It's in the bylaws. The rest of that won't happen here."
He grins, then adds, "But seriously, you guys have been really cool. I've been to parties where I felt like I had to tone myself down, you know?" He gestures vaguely to his glittery outfit. "This isn't exactly screaming 'blend in.'"