Almost Perfect - Brian Katcher [72]
“So this is the girl you like! She’s cute, Logan.”
I rubbed my shoulder, cursing myself for telling Laura about Sage at Thanksgiving. “We’re not dating,” I said, hoping Sage wouldn’t return before I could try to explain things.
I could tell Laura wasn’t buying it. “Uh-huh. Well, if you and your ‘friend’ want to be alone tonight, I can sleep somewhere else.” She was grinning, proud to help her little brother do something naughty.
Time to nip this in the bud. I’d learned that saying I didn’t like Sage only made people want to know why. I chose my next words carefully.
“Laura, you were right. Sage has some real problems at home. We’re not going to get together. I brought her here because she needed to get away from her house for a while. Now, where am I sleeping tonight?”
For a moment, Laura looked disappointed and a little concerned. “I just assumed you’d crash here on the floor. I have a sleeping bag.”
Nope. Even with Laura in the room, I wasn’t about to spend the night with Sage.
“I thought you said I could stay with your friends.”
Laura opened her mouth to ask a question, but stopped. “Well, a couple of guys invited you to bunk with them, but I didn’t know if you’d be comfortable.”
Was I that obviously ill at ease? It’s not like I was ten, spending the night away from home for the first time. Laura didn’t need to protect me.
“I’ll stay with them. That way you won’t have to see me scratching myself.”
Laura laughed. “That would be a nice change of pace. Their names are Brian and Paul, room one-oh-five. Just knock; they’ll know who you are.”
I marched down the corridor, determined not to embarrass myself in front of Laura’s friends. I hoped they wouldn’t ask me about drinking or women. I didn’t exactly have an amazing track record with either.
Apparently this was a coed floor. Door #105 was slathered with heavy metal stickers and video game ads, along with a cryptic, hand-lettered sign: THERE’S NO PROB WITH “BOB.” I could hear what sounded like machine-gun fire within. I knocked.
“C’mon in!”
The only light in the dorm came from a TV tuned to the Cartoon Network and from a computer screen. The shades were drawn and I couldn’t make out anything. A damp, musty odor emanated from within. I was reminded of Devil’s Icebox, a local cave.
“Hello?”
“Dude, you Logan?” As my eyes adjusted, I could see someone seated at the computer. The light from the computer game made his face look unhealthy, pallid. His hair was longish, and he was unshaven. He didn’t have enough facial hair to grow a full beard, so odd tufts of whiskers sprouted randomly on his cheeks.
“That’s me.”
He paused the game but didn’t get up. “I’m Brian. That’s Paul.” He gestured to a bed. What I had assumed was a pile of laundry was actually a man, asleep on his side. He was either black or Middle Eastern; I couldn’t tell in the dark.
“Just throw your bag anywhere,” instructed Brian. I stepped inside, disconcerted by the crunching noises that accompanied my every step. This room was possibly the filthiest place I’d ever been. Clothes, empty food containers, books, and computer equipment littered everything. I realized, to my horror, I’d be sleeping on the floor. So this was why Laura had tried to get me to stay with her. And now I couldn’t back out. Maybe I’d just sleep in the lobby.
I balanced my bag on top of a big box fan, the only bare surface I could find. “I’m going back to see Laura. I’m not sure what time I’ll be in tonight.”
Brian had already gone back to his game. “Don’t worry. I’ll be up late.”
“Yeah, but if you go out, give Laura a call.”
“We won’t go out.”
As I returned to my sister’s room, I decided that, just possibly, I would not be the most socially inept person on campus.
When I entered the dorm, Sage was trying on one of Laura’s jackets. It was far too small.
Sage handed it back to Laura. “It’s hard to find clothes in my size.”
“We should go to the Wardrobe tomorrow, Sage,” said my sister. “It’s a used clothing store, I bet you could find some neat stuff there.”
“Oh, I’d like that!”