"Are you going the foam party on Friday?" I ask casually in lab.
Dillon shakes his head, and then sighs. "Yeah, actually." I knew this, but it makes it way easier knowing that he doesn't want to go. We work in silence for a little bit, until he does what I want and asks, "You?"
"Naw, man," I say. "My friend Carter's pledging Sig Ep, and they're all having a Fortnite tournament. It’s supposed to be a fundraiser."
Dillon seems to perk up at that, but he doesn't say anything.
"You wanna come?" I can feel him analyzing me, but my face is all up in the microscope. "Okay, I found the water flea."
Dillon passes me a dropper of alcohol and replies, "I could make it."
Dillon fits in easily with the guys, making fart jokes like everyone else. I wonder if it's habit or experience. You almost can't tell he's gay, but every so often he'll look at some guy with this kind of like, heavy-lidded sleepy gaze, up and down real quick, and it's totally obvious that he's imagining that guy naked. He only does it when they're not looking, so I can't tell if he does it to me. He does smile at me different than everyone else, and I wonder if that's because he knows I have a dumb secret; like, even Carter doesn't have that kind of shit on me.
What Carter does have is even less of a filter than me. “Hey, are you biracial?” he asks Dillon just out of nowhere.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, I was wondering.”
“Why?” Dillon asks.
“I figured you were too dark to be Middle Eastern or something. And blue eyes, brown skin.” Carter points at his own face to contrast.
I punch him in the side. “That’s fucking rude, bro. Stop microagressing.”
“I wasn’t!” Carter looks at Dillon, rubbing where I hit him. “Was I?”
Dillon makes a funny face, like yeah duh, and just walks back into the main room.
“Who are you trying to impress?” I hiss at Carter.
My friend shrugs. “What? I was just making conversation; I only know that he played All State and is gay.”
“Then talk about football. Or that we’re in Human Biology together.”
“Jesus. Sorry, mom.”
“LeAndre would—”
Carter scoffs. “You always bring him up like he and Aaron were Jesus and John the fucking Baptist. We’re all just people, bruh. Chill out for half a second, kay?”
I let him walk back into the den alone. Am I really being that much of a tightass? Kayleigh is big into social issues, though, and if Dillon tells her that I called out a friend, then that could earn me a lot of brownie points.
“—with fruit,” Dillon is saying as I walk into the room.
"You're kidding," Carter scoffs as I flop down on the couch.
Dillon's eyes slide to me and back again, and shakes his head. "Said it was better than pussy 'cause he didn't have to work for it." He grins a little, getting into the story. "Bananas were his favorite. He'd drape the peel over his dick," he shifted to mimic the act, "and wrap his hand around it to jack off."
Carter and the guys guffaw. "That's sick, man," someone says, and I say it's better than spreading peanut butter on your balls for a dog to lick off, because I always have another story.
"That's fucked up," Carter declares. “Dude, can you imagine Porkchop—”
I wave my hands quickly. “Don't drag my family pets into this, pervert.”
"That's like the guy in Washington who died from getting fucked by a horse," Dillon adds, and all eyes are back on him. It's a true story, there's a documentary, and now bestiality of any sort is outlawed in the state. Carter looks it up.
"How do you know this shit?" Carter asks, and then he gets that look when he's about to say something mean that he thinks is funny. "You got a Google alert for 'fucked up the ass?’ Get around the porn blockers?"
I go stiff. You're not supposed to do that, are you? Like, you don't out somebody in front of a bunch of strangers. Everybody's quiet, but Dillon acts like he hasn't noticed.
"Naw, it's 'cause I learned how to read in school," he says in that same tone. "Newspaper, motherfucker."
"Who the fuck reads a newspaper anymore?" asks another pledge. It's turned from guys shooting shit to some weird bear-baiting, and I don't know how to fix it.
Dillon shrugs. "People who don't spread peanut butter on their balls for the family Labrador, probably."
I kick Carter in the shins. "Where's the fuckin' pizza, asshole?"
It's clearly an attempt to change the subject, but it helps that Carter forgot to order it on his way over.
Dillon and I end up walking home at the same time because Carter's passed the fuck out and Dillon has even farther to go. I don't know what to say to him. Like, I invited him along, but just because I was trying to prove I'm not a complete asshole.
"Sorry about Carter," I say awkwardly.
Dillon gives me this look I can't read, and says, "Jay. I can take care of myself."
"Dude, I'm not saying you can't, I'm just sorry you had to, or whatever." I shove my hands into the pockets of my hoodie.
"It's fine, bro, I know you're doing this because of Kayleigh." He shakes his head at my protest. "Seriously, it's fine. I had fun. Carter's mean, but he's just insecure."
I shuffle. "Yeah. Well…"
"I'll tell Kayleigh you were friendly and all, but she's gonna date who she wants. I can't really control that." Dillon's gaze slides to the side a little when he adds, "and to be honest, dude, you're not really her type. She likes tall brainy guys."
"I'm tall."
He laughs, "You’re five-ten at most, just like me. Probably five-nine."
"And I'm not a fucking idiot."
Dillon sighs. "You know what I mean. Kayleigh dated valedictorians in high school."
Most of me wants to get mad, but there’s no better way to kill my chances with Kayleigh than to let my anger show now. For all I know, Dillon has been updating her the whole time on Snap or something. So I choose to pretend.
“All good, man. Just want to make sure you didn’t feel too weird,” I say with a shrug. “If I didn’t know Carter I wouldn’t have gone, so. You know.”
Dillon chuckles like he can see right through me. “Yeah, okay. I’ll see you in lab, I guess.”
“Yeah. Bye.”
We part ways, and I’m suddenly in a better mood not having to babysit him anymore.
If I could have it my way, that would have been our last real conversation. Dillon clearly doesn’t like me, and I have enough friends already. The thing is, we're still lab partners, and so every Tuesday and Thursday we have to get along enough to complete assignments. It’s not like we have to meet outside lab, so it’s fine. I just have to be nice enough that I don’t get a reputation as a homophobe, just in case Kayleigh’s getting reports.
