Jazz started texting. It was only once on Wednesday, but twice on Thursday, and four times on Friday. Christian didn’t reply, but by Friday, he was upset and sleep deprived.

Jazz: I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed. You’re just so beautiful.

Jazz: Can we talk? Please, I need to explain myself. I really want to see you again.

Jazz: You didn’t say no. I thought you wanted that.

Jazz: I thought you were enjoying it.

Jazz: Can we talk?

And he still hadn’t told Laurel.

He wanted to, but the longer he waited to tell her, the more ridiculous the memory became, and less horrifying. By the time Friday came around he had decided it was a misunderstanding and he just wanted to forget it, if only Jazz would let him. So he decided he would meet up with Jazz briefly somewhere, so he could tell him to leave him alone, and he wouldn’t have to think about it anymore.

Replying, he wrote.

Chris: I’ll meet you. Just tell me where, and stop texting me.

Immediately the reply came.

Jazz: When? Tomorrow?

Chris: I’m busy tomorrow.

Jazz: Tomorrow night?

Chris: Fine. I can meet you after 8pm. Where?

Jazz: You know Tappers?

Tappers was a college bar, very close by. Everyone went there on weekends, as it usually had live music. Christian had never gone but he knew where it was, it was only about fifteen minutes’ walk away.

Chris: Fine.

Jazz: You won’t regret it.

Christian rubbed his face, but it felt scratchy from lack of sleep. He pushed his hair from his eyes, since it was long enough now to fall that way and vowed to never again give out his number.

-8-

Saturday morning he tried to sleep in, but ended up staring at his ceiling for ages before giving up and getting himself coffee. It was nine AM and they only had to be at the dance studio at eleven. He thought about filling the time with assignments, and settled instead on reading Catcher in the Rye. This helped him forget things, and he sunk into the familiar book coma he loved so well. It was only a knock at the front door, startling him out of his inner world, which made him notice the passage of time. He stretched and stood, and moved around the couch to open the front door. Jordan looked as he always looked, minus the football jacket. Since the weather was finally turning, they didn’t have to wear quite so many layers anymore.

“Hey Chris.” Jordan greeted.

“Hey.” Christian replied opening the door wider.

Jordan walked in and seeing Laurel’s door still closed, looked at Christian uncertainly.

“Should I go in?” he asked.

Christian thought about it. Although there was no actual rule that no one was allowed in Laurel’s room, no one ever went in there, except Christian, and then only if she was already inside. It seemed safer to knock or call from the doorway.

“Umm, maybe knock.” Christian replied, shrugging.

Jordan did, and they heard her voice, though muffled.

“Who?”

“Jordan.”

They heard the thump of feet on the floor then her door opened slowly, and Laurel was standing there, yawning widely, hair still kinked from sleep.

“What time is it?’ she asked.

“Ten-Thirty.” Jordan told her.

“Shit. I suppose I have to get up.” She replied, walking past him to the bathroom, turning briefly at the doorway and saying. “I’m not kissing you with morning breath.”

Jordan shook his head at the closed door, and Christian went to pour coffee. He had to hand it to Jordan, he took in every part of Laurel without batting an eye. He knew she was high maintenance and stuck around anyway, he never assumed things and he loved her without reserve. As far as boyfriends went, Laurel had found the perfect one. For her, at least. He handed the coffee cup over and Jordan took it with a ‘Thanks’.

“Good call on the room.” Christian praised him mildly. Jordan nodded into his coffee cup.

“Yeah. I figured it as better to stay on the safe side.”

“That’s always better when it comes to Laurel.”

Jordan glanced at him, looking a little nervous. “Do you, uh, know why? Like, the trust issues?”

Christian glanced at him. Jordan was a great guy but Christian didn’t know him very well, and if Laurel hadn’t told him, then she wasn’t ready to. He shrugged. “I don’t. Sorry.”

Jordan frowned and he looked so serious that Christian took pity on him. At least while the shower was on and he knew Laurel wouldn’t overhear. “Look, I really don’t know. She’s never said anything. Neither has Brendan. But as long as I’ve known her, she’s been picky about people. If she trusts you, it’s a big deal.” Jordan took his words in thoughtfully, eventually replying.

“So…no boyfriends before me.”

“Not that I know of. You were quite a surprise.”

Jordan grinned like he was trying to keep the sun inside from spilling out. “Oh.” He replied, and it made Christian glad he had said something.

When Laurel came out in her towel, hair wet and skin still steaming, she saw them facing each other, and her face became suspicious.

“I know it's normal for boyfriends and best friends to talk, but I don’t know how I feel about it.” she told them, misgiving in her tone.

Jordan was still staring at her, mouth agape and coffee halfway to his face, so Christian piped up. “Just talking about the weather, Madam.”

“Don’t call me that.” She said and walked back to her room and closing the door. Jordan’s eyes followed.

“I think I’m going to knock.” He said, putting his coffee down without looking, and Christian had to lunge to stop it falling off the edge.

“Um. Yeah, just remember we have to be there in twenty-five minutes.”

“Sure.” Jordan said heading to Laurel’s door and Christian grimaced when it opened and he was pulled in without a word.

“Twenty-five minutes!” he yelled, just in case they could hear him, and went to get dressed.