4. Brad
4
brAD
“ W ho’s ready for the greatest party of the year?” Jason called out, reveling in the sights.
I smiled. “Greatest party of the year is a big claim, man. Think we can deliver?”
He looked shocked, like he couldn’t believe I’d dared to question his statement. “The last party of the year? At Lambda? The best frat house on campus? Come on, man, I think we both know the answer to that.”
Alex walked in, shaking his head. “Jason pregames excitement, isn’t it charming?”
I laughed. It was hard to surprise us after three years together, but somehow Jason’s excitement grew with every party and event Lambda held. It sort of was charming, in its own way, even if Alex was joking about it. It made sense why Alex and Shane made a good couple. They were both sarcastic asses, but it was funny.
It didn’t take long for people to filter in. Some of our guys mixed with those from other houses and other friends who tagged along. When the new year started, it would be war time again with the other frats to compete for freshmen, but at the end-of-year party we could invite a few people. Plus, it wasn’t like we took much of a tally for who attended or not. If you showed up, you showed up. Some frats were more strict about it, but we didn’t care unless it was frat only.
I knew my friends wouldn’t be among the first to arrive. After all, they followed Shane’s lead, and he didn’t think it was right to show up anywhere that wasn’t fashionably late. It used to be because he’d find someone to hook up with in under an hour and leave. Now it was because he had to stick around with Alex and wanted to shorten the time he was there.
My thoughts drifted to Dylan. Would he show up in his usual ripped jeans and t-shirt? It suited his lithe form and lazy mannerisms. I’d known him so long, I knew all of his shirts, knew his favorite pair of jeans just from the amount of holes they had in them.
My crush had never dwindled, if anything it had only gotten stronger, but there was no way I could tell him that. There was no way he’d ever reciprocate, and no way I was going to fuck with our friendship by doing anything about it. Not for real, anyway. A few jokes here and there, and maybe a few gazes too long in his direction, but nothing like confessing . Dylan never seemed to catch on.
Which could have been because he was clueless to the whole thing or he knew and just didn’t want to turn me down.
“Brad, come help us with the keg,” called one of the other guys.
Why the hell had we even gotten a keg? They were more hassle than they were worth.
Hours later, the house was filled with people crammed in every available surface. The music was loud, and people were yelling to be heard. I’d only ducked into the kitchen to grab some more beer, and when I turned to talk to Dylan again, he was gone.
I glanced over to where Micah sat on the kitchen counter, Jason standing between his legs as they talked to other people. Once upon a time, Micah wasn’t really into the whole party scene, but with Jason, he’d grown to thrive in it. I didn’t want to bother them, and took off for the living room.
Shane and Alex caught my eye almost before I could take two steps into the room. Alex had Shane pressed against the wall, kissing him like they were the only two people in the world. I shook my head. Maybe they’d figured out their differences — once upon a time they’d been bitter enemies — but clearly Shane’s sex drive hadn’t taken a hit from being in a relationship.
“Hey, have you seen Dylan?” I asked, not caring if I interrupted their little moment. They were relentless, anyway.
Alex broke away from Shane’s mouth, only to make his way down his neck. Shane glanced at me through half-lidded eyes. “Not my problem right now. I’m busy.”
“Maybe you two should be busy in Alex’s bedroom,” I mumbled as I walked off, almost guaranteed to be too quiet for them to hear over the music. They probably wanted people to watch.
I passed through more people, smiling as I threaded my way through and telling people to have a great summer. It was the last party for a lot of our guys, and we’d already had our usual graduation send off to celebrate — a drunken night where we reminisced on the old times and they got to either retrieve their belongings from the chapter meeting room, or leave it for alumni posterity. Now they were at the center of the living room, enthralling their onlookers with stories.
The music seemed to get even louder. I frowned, and it took me a minute to register that the sudden addition was from drums. Faintly, my lips curved. Dylan.
Threading my way further through the house, I made for the stairs. There was a drum kit in the house that was left over from a long graduated frat boy, and we just sort of threw it into the room with the pool table. No one played it, but we also kept a lot of shit no one ever used.
As I made my way through the hallway, I caught sight of Theo pulling Charlie into one of the rooms. Looking closer, I was pretty sure that was the bathroom. Well, at least they were having a good time, I guess.
I shook my head. At least everyone was here and enjoying themselves in their own special, but weird, way. Who was I to interrupt? The pool room was wide open, a large space that was filled with all kinds of random leftovers. The pool table stood in the center, but there was a stack of boxes in the corner filled with different things that had been found or left, and over on one wall was a beer label collage that had been there since before my freshman days. There in another corner was the drum kit, where the sound blared out, even with the music still blasting from downstairs.
Silently, I looked on. A couple of people straggled in the room — a girl and a guy were playing pool and a few others were just standing around. Maybe only those who could handle Dylan’s drumming were there. He looked focused, frowning down at the drums as he pounded them with a level of intensity that seemed kind of off for the song. To be honest, I wasn’t sure he was playing along with the pop song over the speakers. He might have been playing something else. If there was anything Dylan was passionate about, aside from skating, it was music.
I walked over toward the kit and leaned against the wall, watching fondly as he drummed away. Dylan liked parties, but not really in the traditional way. Most of us went to be social or get laid or drunk off our asses. Dylan liked the energy of being around so many people while he still did his own thing. There was no one like Dylan. They couldn’t even come close.
Taking a drink of beer, I nodded along to the beat he was creating. Sure, I could have gone somewhere else, I could have hung out with the graduating Lambdas I’d probably only ever see at reunions, but it was more comfortable here, listening to Dylan drum and ignoring the rest of the party.
After a few songs, he stopped, setting the sticks down on the kit. “Hey, Brad?”
“What’s up?” I asked, wondering what was wrong or if he was just tired. I doubted it. He was always practicing whenever he slipped away to the music room.
“Want to go grab food?” he looked up at me with that unreadable expression again, like something was on his mind he couldn’t put into words.
He had a few of those looks, but I didn’t know enough to know what this one meant. “Sure, come on.” I pushed myself off of the wall and Dylan stood.
“This party feels different, doesn’t it?” he asked.
I frowned a little, thinking about it. Different? The same people were around, same hookups and beer. Most of the rooms were still occupied, the music was too loud, people hiding out in the backyard. Nothing seemed too different to me. “How so?” I asked, trying to figure out what he meant.
He licked his lips, pondering maybe. “Mm…heavy. Maybe it’s me.”
“You okay, dude?” I reached out, patting his shoulder. Sometimes he got in those moods, sometimes he’d just feel wrong even if he couldn’t explain why to me or anyone else.
His lips curved, a hint of a smile. Like maybe he was trying to convince himself as well as me. “Totally. Forget the food. Let’s go fuck with Shane and see how long he takes to get pissed.”
I laughed, but followed him. Probably wouldn’t take much to piss Shane off, not after I’d interrupted them already. But I’d do anything to keep Dylan happy.