The Play: Chapter 15

He was zipping up his pants.

Hunter’s words buzz in my brain as I stalk into house. Despite the late hour, a bunch of my sorority sisters are still up, watching a horror movie. The living room is dark, and I glimpse bowls of popcorn and hear a lot of shrieking at the screen. But I don’t join them. I’m not in the mood.

Instead I go to the kitchen and stick my head in the fridge. I need a snack. Pronto. When I’m agitated, I eat. It’s a habit I probably need to squash, because great metabolism doesn’t last forever, but my mom is in her forties and can still eat whatever she wants, so I’m hopeful for the future. I grab a block of cheddar and angrily start cutting the cheese into cubes.

I don’t care what Hunter says. Nico couldn’t have cheated. Yes, he was out on Saturday night with his friends. And fine, maybe they did wind up at a frat party. But that doesn’t mean he did anything shady. For all Hunter knows, Nico was hanging out with Pippa. I’m pretty sure Pippa went to that party, too.

I put down the knife and grab my phone, wasting no time texting my friend.

ME: Hey, were you at the Alpha Delt party on Sat??

As I wait for Pippa’s response, I pile the cheese cubes onto a plate and then rummage through the pantry for a box of crackers. I dump a bunch of those on the plate too.

When my phone buzzes, I dive for it.

PIPPA: Ya. Why??

ME: Did you see Nico there?

HER: No. Was he there?

ME: Maybe? Someone says they saw him.

HER: Hmmm. Well I did leave kinda early, like around 11. Do you know what time he got there?

ME: No clue. But just to be clear, you didn’t see him when you were there?

HER: Nope.

I bite my lip. All right. So he wasn’t with Pippa. That doesn’t mean anything.

PIPPA: What’s going on, D?

ME: Call me?

She calls less than five seconds later. I carry my cracker and cheese plate upstairs to my bedroom, balancing the phone on my shoulder. “Do you think Nico’s cheating on me?” I demand in lieu of hello.

“Cheating on you? Is that a joke?”

“No. Someone saw him in a compromising position with another girl at the party.”

Pippa laughs. “Bullshit.”

A tiny sliver of hope pierces into me. “You think so?”

“I know so. Come on, babe. That boy is obsessed with you.”

“That doesn’t mean he’s not cheating.”

“Trust me, there’s no way he would do anything to jeopardize your relationship. He’s constantly going on and on about how you guys are going to get married someday. I can’t see him throwing everything away for some random hook-up.”

I can’t, either. And, she’s right. Nico does have the tendency to boast about the amazing future we’re going to have. Why would he be planning a future with me if he’s hooking up with other women?

“Who told you about this?” Pippa asks.

“Hunter,” I confess.

“The hockey player?”

“Yes. He was at the party and he saw Nico leaving one of the upstairs bedrooms with a girl. Apparently he was zipping up his pants.”

A brief silence meets my ear. Then Pippa says, “No. I still don’t buy it.”

“You don’t?” The hope in my chest grows, joined by a rush of relief. “So, what, you think Hunter is lying?”

“Probably.”

“What’s his motivation to lie?”

“I bet he wants in your pants.”

“We’re just friends,” I say. And I can’t stop picturing the tortured expression on his face when he told me what he saw. It’s obvious he didn’t want to say anything.

Or…he could’ve been putting on an act, pretending that it pained him so much to tell me, but really it was all a plot to, as Pippa said, get in my pants. I mean, Hunter fully admitted to having a sexual fantasy about me once. And he’s a self-proclaimed former manwhore. Why should I trust anything he has to say about women and relationships?

On the flip side, I’ve known Nico since I was eight years old. He’s my best friend.

“Nico loves you,” Pippa says as if reading my mind. “I think Hunter is lying or else he misinterpreted what he saw.”

“So you think I’m being crazy?”

“I think you’re being crazy.”

“Thanks, chica.” I sigh. “Should I should say something to Nico?”

“I don’t know, babe. It might start a fight, but if you need to do it for your peace of mind, then yeah, you should. But don’t frame it like an accusation,” she advises. “Maybe treat it more as a joke? Like, omigosh hon, can you believe that?”

“That’s a good approach.”

We hang up a few minutes later, and I’m left sitting on my bed with a snack plate in my lap.

I stare down at the mountain of cheese and crackers, but I don’t have much of an appetite anymore.

NICO: Good morning, bb. Meet for breakfast?

I stare at my boyfriend’s message for a good five minutes before assembling enough courage to respond.

ME: Sure. But I just woke up, so I need time to get ready. Pick me up in 45?

HIM: Sounds good 🙂 I’ll msg u when I get 2 campus.

I’m nervous as I get ready. I decided I’m definitely going to confront him about what Hunter told me. I have no choice, because if I don’t, it’ll eat away at me like a slow-moving cancer, until I won’t even be able to look at him without wondering if he cheated.

Hunter has to be wrong, though. Like Pippa said, he’s either straight-up lying or he misinterpreted the situation. I’m hoping for the latter, because I enjoy our friendship and I don’t like the idea that he’s secretly been running a long con to get me into bed. That would be really shitty.

Nico texts when he’s outside. I step onto the porch and am greeted by his handsome face and beautiful dimpled smile. I find myself relaxing. I adore that smile, and I adore that face. He’s…well, he’s my first love. I’m always going to see him and have this giddy, schoolgirl reaction. And just because I’ve had some doubts about our relationship, some suspicions along the way, doesn’t mean we’re not a good couple.

“Hey mami.” He pulls me toward him for a hug, followed by a deep, tongue-tangling kiss.

I want to say it’s a lot of passion this early in the morning, but Nico is always this passionate. It’s the Cuban in him. He’s all about bold claims and romantic gestures.

“You look good enough to eat.” He smacks his lips together comically and I laugh.

“So do you. But I think I want some real food first.”

“You always want real food.”

“True.”

He snickers. “How was Boston last night?” he asks as we step off the porch.

“Good. My parents were bummed you weren’t there.”

“Me too. But I had to work.” He takes my hand. “Hopefully we can get up to see them before Thanksgiving.”

“I doubt it. I’ve got midterms, and in the beginning of November the sorority is planning that fundraiser for the animal shelter.”

His fingers loosely clasp mine as we walk towards the curb.

“Nice, you have your work truck,” I say. It’s one of the white pick-ups from the moving company, with their black and red logo stenciled onto the side.

“I know it’s only a ten-minute walk, but do you mind if we drive to Carver? I only have an hour.”

“You first class isn’t until two,” I remind him.

“I know, but I need to go to work for a few hours. I told Frank I’d do a small job before class.” He opens the passenger side door for me, then hurries around to get into the driver’s seat.

“You asked Frank about next Friday, right?”

Nico starts the engine. “Next Friday, like two weeks from now?”

“Yeah, it’s Corinne’s housewarming. You were supposed to tell Frank you couldn’t work that night.”

“Oh, right.” Nico nods, and a hunk of black hair falls on his forehead. I reach over to brush it away. “Sorry, I forgot because it’s so far away. But yes, I did talk to him. He promised I’d be outta there by seven.”

“Good.” I buckle my seatbelt. “Isn’t her new place so cute?”

“Honestly? I don’t remember what it looks like,” he says with a grin. “I’ve moved boxes into so many houses and apartments that they all blend together in my mind. Oh hey, I got you something.”

That piques my interest. “You did?”

“D and I were grabbing burgers in the city the other day, and the place had one of those gumball machines, except instead of gumballs it gave out little toys and trinkets. Cost me a buck, but”—Nico grins broadly—“I knew I had to get this for you.”

He pops open the small compartment in the center console and sticks a hand inside. Things rustle and keys jingle as he rummages around.

Finally, his hand emerges with a plastic yellow egg. “Here you go.”

Highly curious, I pry open the two plastic pieces, and a small baggie falls into my lap. I break out in a grin. The bag contains a pair of cheap, plastic earrings—enormous red hoops with black polka dots.

“Because I know how much you love the big hoops,” Nico teases.

“Aww, you’re the worst.” But I can’t stop grinning because this gift means Nico was thinking of me when he was out with his friends, enough to stick a dollar bill into some kiddie machine so he could get me these silly earrings.

“I love them,” I say, and then dramatically fling my arms around him and kiss his cheek.

“Also, they’re plastic,” he says helpfully. “So if they do get caught on anything, they’ll probably break apart before your earlobe gets ripped off.”

This boy knows me well.

He pulls away from the curb and it takes literally a minute to drive three parking lots over to the one behind Carver Hall. I have a meal plan since I technically live on campus, but Nico doesn’t, so he has to pay for his breakfast. He gets French toast, and I fill my plate with bacon, eggs and toast from the buffet. Then we find a cozy table in the back of the chalet-style dining hall. The room has an impossibly high ceiling, oak paneled walls, and round mahogany tables scattered throughout.

Ten minutes into breakfast, I finally raise the subject. “Hey, so I wanted to ask you something.”

“Hmmm?” He takes a bite of French toast.

“It’s just…and honestly, I am not accusing you of anything, so please don’t take it wrong way.”

That gets Nico’s attention. His fork snaps down on his tray. “Accusing me? What’s going on?”

“Um, well. Someone mentioned something to me and I wanted to discuss it with you.”

“Discuss what?”

Shit, what am I doing? Do I really want to discuss this in public? What if it goes horribly wrong?

But I already boarded the train and now I’ve gotta ride it all the way to crazy town. “Somebody saw you at the Alpha Delta party last weekend. With a girl.”

“Somebody saw me with a girl… Can we be a little more specific?”

“They saw you coming out of an upstairs bedroom with her, and you may or may not have been zipping up your pants.”

His dark eyes flash angrily. “Who said this exactly?”

“That’s not important.”

“Like fuck it isn’t. I want to know who’s spreading lies about me.”

I study his expression. He seems genuinely upset, and his denial didn’t ring false to me. Yet for some reason I don’t want to throw Hunter under the bus, so I lie about my source. “It was a random girl at the party who told one of my sorority sisters, who told me. How I found out isn’t important. I just wanted to be sure…you’re saying you didn’t do anything?”

“Of course not.”

I hear nothing but sincerity in his voice. “Were you at the party, though?”

“Yeah, I went with Steve and Rodrigo and a couple other guys from work. I told you I was chilling with them that night.”

“Right, but you didn’t tell me you were going to a frat party down the street from me.”

“I said the boys and I were hanging out, and we were. We went to a few different places,” Nico says irritably. “Eventually we wound up there, but it was late and I didn’t see the point in calling you. I had a few drinks, joked around with the guys, and the only chick I spent any time with was Roddy’s sister Carla—that’s probably who they saw me with. I took her up to use the bathroom. The line for the other bathroom was ridiculous, so we snuck upstairs.”

This all sounds plausible. I’ve been in the Alpha Delta house before, and I’ve seen how popular that lone downstairs bathroom is.

“Carla did her business, I did my business, and then we left the room. I don’t remember zipping my fly.” His jaw tightens. “But if I did, it’s probably because I forgot to zip it up after taking a piss.”

He doesn’t sound defensive. He’s defending himself, yes, but I’m not getting any sense that he’s trying to convince me of something.

“Whoever told you this crap obviously read something more into the situation.”

“That’s what I figured. I only brought it up because…” I shrug. “Well, because it’s good to always be open and honest with each other.”

“I agree.” His body language is still a tad stiff as he picks up his fork and resumes eating. “But I don’t like the idea of people talking trash about me.”

“There was no trash talking involved,” I promise. “Just one friend watching out for another friend.”

“One friend trying to stir up shit, more like it. Which chick said this to you?”

“I told you, I don’t know the girl at the party.”

“But which one of the Thetas said it?”

“It doesn’t matter. She brought it to my attention because we look out for each other, but for what it’s worth she also didn’t think there was anything to the story,” I lie.

Nico looks pleased. “Good. And I’m glad you don’t believe that bullshit, either.” He reaches across the table for my hand, interlacing our fingers. “You know I would never do that to you.”