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    Jwolf
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The English Year - 10. Hurricane Dakota

"Who do you... who do you think you are?"

Hurricane Dakota

“And you must be…”

“Dakota,” she answered, offering a hand. I was already pretty tipsy by the time the tall auburn haired girl walked into my house with Peter in tow. She was striking to say the least. She couldn’t have been more than an inch shorter than the Brit, making her approximately 5’11. Her face was long and angular, and most importantly not unattractive. Her hair was cut in stylish, asymmetric bob. She carried herself with the confidence of a girl who was once heavyset and was now slender, curvy, and striking.

She was beautiful.

And I wanted to drink that beauty away.

“And you must be Zac Efron…” she said smiling at me and pumping my hand firmly. She had the law school hand shake down pat. “… circa High School Musical… Two?”

“Bet on it,” I said cordially. I was determined to play nice. I was tipsy, sure, but I wasn’t drunk enough to get irrationally angry. And I still had enough faculties about me to know that I had to be friendly… against every fiber of my being.

I led Pete, Dakota, and German James upstairs to my room where only a few Kappas lingered. They had put in a solid two hours’ worth of pregaming before the majority of them headed to the KA house on Red Square for a Snackbar Jones concert. Late night wouldn’t kick off until after one, so they had plenty of time to find their way back.

“I’m liking the digs,” Dakota said, looking around the room I’d decorated with as much High School Musical memorabilia as I could muster.

“It’s not normally like this,” I said quickly, walking to my mini fridge and pulling out a jug of premixed vodka and fruit punch. “It’s my guilty pleasure. For the mixer.”

“Got it,” she said, sitting down on my germ infested couch as comfortably as someone I’d known for years. Pete sat down next to her, and I realized he hadn’t said more than a couple of words since he arrived. “I think the embroidered blanket with Zac’s face is a nice touch.”

“Now that, I sleep with every night,” I said, pouring four solo cups of vodka punch and handing them out. “You can probably crack it right down the middle,” I joked. That got a laugh out of the whole group.

“So what have you guys shown our guest here?” I asked, joining the crew, sitting on the coffee table that faced my couch. Mister didn’t waste any time jumping up on my lap and pawing towards Pete.

“This is the famous cat!” Dakota squealed. “Oh my gosh, I’m in love with him already.”

“That’s sweet, but how do you feel about Mister?” I joked. Dakota gave me a smirk.

“Can we keep him? He’s funny.”

“We went to the International House for a pregame,” Pete said, his accent sounding thicker than it had the last time we spoke. Or maybe I was just paying more attention. “Someone didn’t call us until eleven o’clock to come over.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I was entertaining.”

“Some party,” German James said rudely. I didn’t even look in his direction, and instead took another sip of my punch.

“Anyway, the party was fun, if you must know. And the reason I didn’t call was because I was trying to keep my friend Riley from hooking up with one of our sophomores and regretting it in the morning.”

“Did that work out for you?” Pete asked with just a hint of attitude.

“Actually, no,” I said. “They’re next door smoking and probably taking each other’s clothes off as we speak.”

“I could use a puff, puff, give,” Dakota said with a shoulder raise.

“If you want someone to take your clothes off, just ask…” Pete smirked immediately after.

“Has Pete told you what pot does to him?” Dakota croaked through her laughter. “You have to tell him.”

“No,” Pete protested.

“Come on, tell him,” Dakota pressed.

“You’ve got to tell us now,” James added.

“Fine,” Pete said, sitting up and taking a long sip of his drink. “The first time I smoked with Dakota, we were on the roof of the observatory at SMU. I was taking a stupid astrology course, and this one here agreed to accompany me to map stars.”

“What a solid friend,” I interrupted. Dakota gave me a smirk and an eyebrow raise and I knew the story was about to get good.

“Anyway, I hadn’t smoked in America yet, and so Dakota had the bright idea to drive to Deep Ellum and score some pot from a friend of a friend. It was the sketchiest thing I’d ever seen.”

“Everything east of 75 is pretty sketchy,” I said. Dakota gave me a puzzling look.

“I grew up in Colleyville,” I explained.

“Seriously? Pete, you didn’t say he was from Dallas,” Dakota said, hitting Pete across the arm. Mister reacted to the slap by turning her head towards Pete, jumping from my lap to his, and gently swatting at Dakota. My cat was nothing if not protective, especially of her prized crotch. Once she realized the girl wasn’t a threat at all, she settled in to Pete’s nook.

“I think I mentioned it,” he said.

“I would have known if you’d mentioned it. Oh my gosh, we’re totally getting together over holiday at some point,” she said, sounding genuinely excited.

As Pete finished his story about smoking on the roof of the observatory, I only half listened. With my other half, I tried my damndest to hate Dakota. I tried to hate her face. I tried to hate her razor sharp, angular haircut that was just slightly too edgy for my taste. I tried to hate her accent, a distinct Texas Twang, but with the quickness and cadence of an east coast resident. It was Texan without the drawl. And most importantly, I tried to hate how close she clearly was with Pete.

But I couldn’t. She was making it impossible. She was so nice and sweet and smiley. I couldn’t hate her for being the very definition of saccharine, but I wanted to. And I continued to search for a reason.

“So, I turned to Dakota….”

“And his eyes were bloodshot, mind you, it was amazing…”

“And I’m giggling the whole time. And I say to her in a serious voice… I say… ‘D, smoking pot makes me so horny.’”

“Oh my gosh, he didn’t say that! What did you say to him?” I answered, stepping back into the story with both feet.

“Nothing!” she answered. “I was floored. What was I supposed to say?”

“Was this Pete’s way of hitting on you?” James asked. I snapped my head towards him, and then back towards Pete for the answer.

“Most likely no,” he said sheepishly. I knew what he’d told me about Dakota, not wanting to give her the wrong impression or anything. But then I heard him say things like that to her, and I wondered. Did he like her back? Instinctively? Was he just so in control of his feelings, he could separate them from his mind? Or was I reading too much into the words of a high stargazer?

“He didn’t say anything after that,” Dakota clarified. “And I couldn’t stop laughing. So between the two of us, we were pretty much a bust from the get go.”

I observed their chemistry. It must have been something like that with Pete and me, I thought. From the way that Amanda described it, it was like I was looking into some sort of relationship mirror. They’re intensity was just like mine and Pete’s: unmistakable, undeniable, and sickening.

And yet, I didn’t quite understand it. They had a banter about them that couldn’t be denied. And yet Pete sat just an inch further than I imagined he would. His hips were angled just slightly away from her, and his stance, even sitting down so close to her, felt guarded, as if she was someone familiar and distant at the same time.

“Earth to Corbin,” Dakota’s voice snapped me back to reality.

“Huh?”

“I asked you what your next move is,” she said with a raised eyebrow.

“Move to what?”

“Well surely you’re not still holding on to this party,” she replied. “I mean, I’m sure it was fun at some point, but come on. I could take a nap at this point.”

She was right. It was time to move on. The mixer had been a moderate success. My close Kappa friends had come out to support, and although most of the younger girls had left to flirt with the deeper pockets on Greek Row, at least a handful of seniors had stayed behind to scramble with some of my luckier brothers.

“We can go to Snackbar Jones on Greek Row,” I suggested.

“Wait, Snackbar plays all the way down here too?”

“Don’t tell me you know Snackbar,” I said, downing my drink. I stood up and walked to my fridge to pour everyone a roadie cup before we attempted the walk across downtown to the cluster of other fraternity houses.

“Snackbar was playing at the accepted student party at my law school when I came to visit last year. This is totally random, but I might have gone home with one of the members.”

“Slut!” was my response. She gave me a cheeky grin. I stole a look at Pete, whose face looked less than amused. I handed out the four shots and raised my glass. I tried to interpret Pete’s reaction to what Dakota had just said. Was he melancholy because he was jealous? Was he being protective of a close friend in a brotherly sort of way? Or did he wish he could trade places with Snackbar and go home with her for a night, no strings attached.

But there were strings between them, and they were impossible to ignore. They had a rapport, the two of them. They had chemistry. They had the kind of elbow grabbing, ear whispering, inside joke telling kind of friendship that was cute for a minute or two.

As we walked towards Red Square, hearing the music grow louder and louder as we approached, I noticed Pete hang back to my pace and allow Dakota and James to walk forward faster.

“So what do you think?” he asked me quietly. They were just out of earshot. I looked up at Pete and channeled my most even-keeled smile.

“About what?”

“Dakota,” he said with a smirk.

“I like her. She’s a breath of fresh air,” I replied, not elaborating that that fresh air had hit Clifton Hill like a Santa Anna wind. “I can totally see how you two tore up Dallas last year.”

“We had a lot of fun,” he said. And that was all he said. I didn’t know quite how to take that statement. Was he punctuating their friendship? Was the past tense in his voice the pretense of the phrase? I knew I was digging very deep, but I couldn’t help it. Hurricane Dakota had swept in and she was swirling everything around in my brain.

I decided that the only course of action I had to survive Hurricane Dakota was to drink. And fortunately for me, Pete was in the mood to go beer for beer, shot for shot with me. As we approached KA, I planned out our drinking strategy.

“So, KA isn’t the most welcoming house,” I warned the motley crew of four as we circled through Greek Row towards the blaring music. “But since I found out that there’s a gay KA active, I’ve bluffed them into thinking I know who it is.”

“There’s a gay member of a fraternity?” Dakota feigned shock. “You don’t say.”

“It’s sort of a big deal,” I pressed on, oblivious to her sarcasm. “Anyway, they’ve been pretty nice to me since I dropped that little nugget. So I will go upstairs and try to get us some liquor. Boys, you blend in as best as possible. Dakota, you go to the basement and get us some beer. You’ll be most successful at that, I’m thinking.”

“Is it a boob thing?” she asked. I let out an involuntary smile.

“It most definitely is,” I replied. I was just about to break the huddle when Dakota stopped me.

“Before we head in, I have an announcement too,” she said. She reached into the purse I hadn’t noticed her carrying and pulled out a vintage Polaroid camera. “We need to discuss pictures.”

“Wait a second,” I said. “There’s no way that camera still works.”

“It does and it does,” she replied. “And because they don’t make the film for this particular camera anymore, the twelve photos we do have in here have to be priceless. I have my digital for everyday shots, but I need you fellows on the lookout for anything Polaroid worthy. I’ve been saving this dozen.”

“Oh the pressure is on,” I smiled.

“It is indeed,” Dakota nodded. She turned and confidently walked down into the basement of KA. I went upstairs in search of my friend Lucas, hoping to score a couple of shots and the invitation to hang out in his room. I didn’t see him on the second or the third floor, and by the time I’d made the rounds, saying hi to the people I did know, I went back downstairs to look for the gang. Pete was standing between James and Dakota. They were each holding a beer. Pete had two.

“You, sir, have impeccable timing,” Pete said, raising an eyebrow towards me. “We were just about to shotgun without you.”

“Is that really a good idea?” I asked, a little nervous at the idea of chasing all of the liquor I’d had that night with a full beer. Pete didn’t respond, but handed me a beer, pulled out his keys, and started punching holes on the side of everyone’s brews.

“I remember the night I taught him how to shotgun,” Dakota smiled down at me.

“Funny, because I remember teaching him how to shotgun,” I said accusingly, turning my face towards Pete and raising an eyebrow. He reached out and took my beer to punch a hole in it.

“I’m not sure it matters who the teacher was,” he smirked, playing it off. “I’ve surpassed both of you.”

He handed me back my beer, and as I chugged it down, one gulp at a time, I wondered why he would have faked not knowing how to shotgun in order for me to teach him. Maybe he simply didn’t remember how to do it. It had been a year since he’d gone to SMU, and if he hadn’t developed the skill since then, maybe he just forgot that he knew how.

Or maybe he was taking a play straight out of my seasoned playbook. Every time I smoked pot with a cute guy, I pretended like I didn’t know how to light the bowl. It was a time tested move that I utilized over and over, and more than not, it got me sitting next to the cute guy, close enough to touch. It was a flirting technique that girls used all the time. It was so common a move, it was almost cliché. And he’d used it on both Dakota and me.

It made me wonder.

I took that wonder downstairs, all the way to the basement floor, where the band was rocking a sweet ass cover of Journey’s Don’t Stop Believing. Snackbar Jones knew, better than any band that came to campus, how to excite a mostly white college crowd.

They followed that song up with Scotty Doesn’t Know, and before I could shout ‘Don’t Tell Scotty’, I saw Dakota and James dancing out of the corner of my eye.

“They’re getting close,” I screamed at Pete. He nodded. “We should dance. Show them how it’s done.”

His face had a little hesitation to it.

“One more beer,” he shouted, turned and waded through the crowd to the bar. He came back with two cups full of Natural Light and we both chugged them down. Just as the band was slipping into a three song Michael Jackson medley, Pete pulled me into the fray and started grinding next to me.

At first, I watched him move his hips back and forth, grind his body into the air as if he was dancing with the hottest person in the world. I smiled at how he held his hands over his head, and looked down at me with a wicked smile. And then, without hesitating or thinking, I moved my way in and started moving my hips to his rhythm.

He didn’t change his stance, his pace, or his moves. Instead, he just smiled at me. I kept moving in closer and closer until I could feel the heat from his body radiate towards me. I turned to survey the floor and no one was looking at us. No one was judging two guys dancing closely in the middle of a crowded room. I roved until my eye stopped on Dakota and James who were dancing even closer than Pete and I. He had her turned around, his hands on her hips, and they were literally grinding to the music, her back arched, and his dick probably hard.

“Let’s give them a show,” I smiled at Pete. He smiled back at me. I reached up, grabbed his hands, and finally made body to body contact. It was like two puzzle pieces were coming to together. The music suddenly swelled to me, filling my ears. I could sense everything that was happening around me, as if my senses were suddenly awakened. I knew Pete was drunk and going with the flow, but I didn’t give a fuck. Our bodies pressed against each other, our pelvises moved in one motion. His leg was planted between my two legs. We were like joint lobsters, writhing around harmoniously.

I’m not sure how many songs we danced to, but the sluttier Dakota and James got on the dance floor, the bolder I got with Pete. Before long, I did my move where I turn around and dance with my ass into a guy’s crotch. If I’m dancing with a girl, or someone I know is gay, I’ll really go to town and grind into them like there’s nothing else. With Pete, I took my time. I put my ass on his crotch for a split second and then moved away to the beat. I turned my head to see his reaction, and he was simply smiling, eyes closed, head moving.

I repeated my move, this time holding my ass close to him even longer. The third time I went back and ground on him, Pete did the totally unexpected thing. He reached down and pulled my hips in close to him. He aggressively pulled me in, and danced closer than we’d ever been.

It was right then that I thought would be the perfect moment to turn around and kiss him. He was showing me all of the signs, and I wanted to so badly. What could have possibly happened, really?

And then I had my moment of hesitation. Why was he being so aggressive? Why was he willing to put on such a show? Of course he was drunk, so his inhibitions were light, but why now? Why then? Why in front of Dakota?

It became clear in that moment that I was being used as jealousy bait. I continued to dance closely, but I didn’t turn my head and offer up my lips like I’d wanted to. Instead, I killed the moment by thinking. I always killed the moment by thinking.

As we danced, I wondered if he was trying to make Dakota jealous? Why would he be? He was the one that had said no to her. He was the one that could have her at any moment. So what if she was dancing like a freak with German James. He was the one who’d rejected her.

And yet he was acting out and the only uncommon denominator was Hurricane Dakota, who’d swept through Clifton Hill and was spreading debris wherever she went.

“Y’all are having fun!” I turned and saw Amanda watching us move back and forth like a couple of eleventh-graders at a prom.

“Mandy!” Pete shouted, dropping me and jumping to hug her. It reminded me of the time he pulled his hand away so quickly as the car approached, yet he’d been dancing on my ass in a room full of people for several songs. I guess it was easier to dance on a guy when no one you knew was watching, but as soon as Amanda stepped up, all bets were off.

“Is your mixer over?” Amanda asked me. I nodded. “When are you heading to late night?”

I looked at my watch. It was only approaching twelve.

“In an hour or so. I think we should show Dakota the country,” I suggested. Seeing us stop dancing and move out of the room, Dakota and James followed and joined us near the stairs. I told her my plan.

“What’s in the country?” she asked.

“House parties. Shit shows. Social climbers,” Amanda responded, looking at me. I rolled my eyes. “It’s a lot of fun if you’re in the know.”

“Well then let’s go,” Dakota slurred. “I want to live like a Founder tonight!”

“Let me see if I can get us a ride,” I said. I walked upstairs where the air was calmer and cooler. I scanned the area looking for a KA I knew who could assist me. I settled on a guy named Bucky who’d I’d had drinks with before but really didn’t know too well.

“Hey, Bucky,” I said approaching. The girl he was talking to was clearly a freshman who didn’t know who I was because she gave me a sideways glare as I interrupted. “Do you know where Nick is? He told me to look for him if I needed a ride.”

It was a total lie, but Nick Bauer was one of the biggest and baddest in KA. I knew it would get Bucky’s attention if I had a ‘message’ from him.

“Last I saw, he was downstairs on the dance floor,” Bucky replied.

“Any idea who he might have had me call?”

“Not sure man,” Bucky said. “Not sure who’s driving. Let me text Nick for you.”

Perfect, I thought. I fielded a couple of glares from Bucky’s freshman of the week.

“And what’s your name?” I asked as if she was in the sixth grade, smiling politely, and offering a hand.

“I’m Rebecca,” she replied. “Are you a KA?”

“God no,” I said with a smile. “You’re a freshman?”

She nodded. I gave her a look that clearly said I could tell, and it wasn’t a good thing. I made a note to ask around about a Rebecca that frequented KA parties and find out what her slice of pie was.

“He wants you to come downstairs,” Bucky replied.

“Seriously? I need to get home and set up for late night,” I replied.

“You’re a Chi Beta?” the girl asked, suddenly not looking through me but looking at me. I didn’t even bother responding to her.

“There’s a late night tonight?” Bucky asked.

“For sure. I’d better see you and Rachel there,” I said turning, and walking towards the stairs.

“It’s Rebecca,” she called towards me. I knew what it was, but I clearly didn’t care. I lifted a hand in dismissal and walked back into the sweaty abyss that was the KA basement.

I found Nick Bauer before I found Pete and the gang, and asked him if my friends and I could get a ride to the country.

“I thought you were going home to set up late night,” he called me out. “That shit better be tight.”

“It’ll be to your liking, Nick, trust me. But I have a pit stop first.”

“Uh oh,” he said. “I’ve heard about your little pit stops.” I raised an eyebrow. “Who is it this week? A Kappa Sig? Phi Kap? Ex-Beta?”

“You’re ridiculous,” I laughed, shaking my head. “It’s no one. I have a friend in town and she wants to see the country.”

“Is she hot? I’ll show her myself.”

“You’ll have to peal her away from a German,” I replied.

“I can get you a ride dude, no worries. But you have to sing with Snackbar first,” he said. I tried to shake my head, but he didn’t give me a chance. “It’s a tradition. I’ll tell the band to do Crazy next, and you’re going up there.”

It was something that happened every single time Snackbar Jones came in to town. If they knew far enough in advance, they’d text me and see what I was doing. At some point in the night, I would join the band and sing Cee-Lo Green’s Crazy with them.

Before I could protest, Nick ran up to the stage, said a couple of words to Snackbar, a chord was struck and the leader of the band took the mic.

“Alright folks, we’re going to take a quick break, but first, as we always do down here at Old Dominion, let’s have Corbin Crowley up on the stage,” Snackbar said.

I shook my head and tried to suppress a smile. In fact, if I’m confessing, I ate that shit up. It was great. But I pretended to be a little embarrassed by it.

“What’s going on?” I heard Dakota whisper to Pete as I waded through the crowd and on to the stage. I couldn’t have planned it better. As I eased into the mic on the first verse, I watched Pete and Dakota both stare at me in awe as I rounded the verse and fully belted the first chorus. The crowd, as usual, ate it up, and before I could ask ‘who do you, who do you think you are?’ I was fully in the zone.

“What the fuck was that?” Dakota asked as I stepped off the stage. Nick had said there was a black SUV waiting for us upstairs, and I led Dakota, Pete, James, Amanda, and I towards it.

“Nothing,” I said, attempting genuine modesty. “Just what you have to do for a ride sometimes.”

Amanda cut me a look. They continued to make a big deal about the song as we road through town and out to Windy Hill where the Phi Kaps were hosting counter programming to the KA party in town.

Within minutes, the five of us had each done a couple of gin bucket shots out of turkey basters and were huddled around the bonfire. It took Dakota less time than it’d taken Pete to observe how well known I was on campus.

“He wasn’t exaggerating,” she smiled. “Everyone here knows your name. You could be the mayor of Clifton.”

“Too many of these people have seen me naked,” I smiled. “I’d never win.”

“Who says that wouldn’t make them want to vote for you?” she asked, slapping me on the ass and circling around to talk to Amanda.

We stayed in the country for three beers and forty-five minutes before catching the shuttle at the bottom of the hill. By the time we headed back to campus, everyone involved was wasted. I followed Dakota and German James on to the bus, and Pete sat next to me. Before the bus even started moving, Dakota had her Polaroid camera out and was instructing me and Pete to pose. Pete put both hands around me, squeezed tight, and smiled wide. Wider than I’d ever seen.

“You are a goober,” Dakota joked. “Y’all come over here, and let’s take a group photo.”

Pete and I stood up and squeezed into the seat next to us. Dakota shimmied onto James’ lap, who took the opportunity to wrap his arms around the girl he’d been hitting on all night. I was forced to half sit on Pete’s thigh in order to make room. He didn’t hug me in or squeeze me tight, but he also didn’t flinch when I clutched his right thigh for support. Any higher and I would have felt his mister bulging through his pants, I’m sure.

We went back to our seat and patiently waited for the picture to develop. After shaking the Polaroid picture for a minute, the image finally started to appear. I looked at it while it was still gray and noticed the smiles on our faces. The four of us really did look like the best of friends. To the naked eye, we might have been two very happy couples enjoying a very happy evening.

And then I saw it. At the top of the picture, in the seat behind ours, was a girl I recognized from the law school, fully made up and smiling in our picture. She looked straight at the camera as if the lens was pointing at her.

“Did you see this?” I leaned over and asked Dakota.

“What?”

“This girl is photobombing our picture,” I said. Dakota looked at the Polaroid and then back at the seat behind her. The little skank, who had far too much make up on for a casual Friday night, was talking to some undergrad who she no doubt planned on sucking his habeas corpus.

“Excuse me,” Dakota said, turning around and facing the girl.

“D, it’s not a big deal,” Pete slurred. I couldn’t help but start laughing.

“Did you know you snuck into our picture?” Dakota asked in a condescending and yet clearly drunk voice.

“I didn’t sneak into your picture,” the girl replied.

“Yes you did,” Dakota accused, holding up the Polaroid.

“Who the fuck has a Polaroid camera?” the guy next to photostealer said with a bite.

“I do, and your little girlfriend snuck into our picture.”

“I’m not in your picture,” the girl said, punching every word.

“D,” Pete tried. I still couldn’t stop laughing.

“Look, I can see you in the picture. I just want an apology, that’s all. A simple ‘I’m sorry I snuck into your picture. It won’t happen again’, will surely suffice.”

“Listen crazy,” the girl said. It took a second for Dakota to hop up and turn around in her seat.

“Who the fuck…” I heard her start to shout. Within a second, the bus was turned around. Pete grabbed on to Dakota, and the girl was smiling awkwardly like someone who knew she was being saved from getting beat up.

It took a couple of seconds for Pete to restrain Dakota and turn her back around. James came in to the rescue, whispering something to calm her down.

“There’s nothing to see,” I said to the people on the bus who had turned around to see what was going on.

Amanda asked me what had happened when we got off the bus and walked through Sketch Alley towards my house.

“Nothing,” I answered, pressing forward. “Dakota just went whoop ass on a law student.” I told her the story and she couldn’t stop laughing.

“Seriously, who are these people that we hang out with?” she asked. The house was starting to fill up when we got back. I led Pete and Dakota through the Great Hall and out to the porch.

“This is the infamous late night?” Dakota asked in an almost insulting way. My charm on her was starting to wear. It was one thing to speak your mind when there was a filter there to catch anything offense. It was another thing to spew from the tongue like Chelsea Handler on crack.

“Give it a minute,” I said. The second we stepped on to the porch, a group of six or seven walked up the stairs and through the front entrance. “See.”

I told Dakota and Pete to hang tight for a minute while I went downstairs to get us a round of beers. What made late night so successful is that we spent a shit ton on beer, and had it flowing, no questions asked, for a solid couple of hours. By the time it ran out around four, you could have handed people anything and they would have thought it was a natty light.

The dance floor of our basement was starting to pick up when I went downstairs.

“Where have you been?” Dom asked me from behind the bar. I waved four fingers in front of him.

“I went out! The mixer was a hit, sir. Congratulations!”

“Are a lot of people coming back for late night?” he asked, handing me four Natties.

“From what I heard, the whole campus will be here within the hour.” Dom looked down at his watch. It was just passed one, and in an hour this place was going to be so packed, perspiration would be lining the ceiling.

I heard the shouting as I walked up the stairs and approached the front door. I didn’t take pause to listen to the exact words, but I knew that Pete and Dakota had raised their voices towards each other. I turned to James and Amanda and asked what was going on.

“I don’t know,” Amanda said. “I walked out there to see what was going on and Dakota had her hand in Pete’s face.”

I stood there holding four beers and wondering what to do. I decided to go outside and see for myself what was going on. They stopped talking as soon as the door opened and my face popped out.

“Hey guys, I have beer,” I said with a smile and a raised eyebrow, as if I hadn’t heard them shouting.

“Okay,” Dakota replied. “We’ll be up in a second.”

“Okay great,” I said. “We’ll be in my room I guess.”

I stepped back inside the house, and before the door even closed, I heard Dakota rip into Pete.

“How many times do I have to tell you, I don’t give a shit who you like and who you don’t? I’m not that jealous fat girl any more, Pete, so get the fuck over yourself.”

“What are they fighting about?” Amanda asked as I led her and James up the stairs to my bedroom.

“I don’t know really,” I said. “Something about jealousy, and liking someone, and being a fat girl.”

My mind immediately raced to the only place I knew: they were fighting about me. They had to have been. There was no other explanation. Why else would Pete accuse Dakota of being jealous if it wasn’t about me? Who else could she have possibly felt threatened by?

I tried not to get in the way of German James flirting with Amanda as we waited for the other two to come up. It hit me after a minute of listening to her compliment his teeth for ‘a European’ that James had flirted with several girls that night. I made a mental note to warn Amanda that he was a player.

By the time Pete and Dakota came up to my bedroom, I’d already been through my beer and was pulling out my vodka and a water bottle from the fridge.

“I need a cocktail,” Pete announced, barging in. It was then that I noticed he had punch stains all over his white t-shirt. I looked down at my shirt and saw that I had similar stains. The two of us were a mess, mostly because I had no memory of where the stains had come from.

“Coming up, killer,” I said. “I only have water up here, so if you want a mixer, you have to go downstairs.”

“Where?” he asked.

“The kitchen. The door on the left. There’s a machine with lemonade in it,” I explained. “Put some in this and bring it up.”

“Aye, aye, captain,” he said, springing out of the room.

“Is everything okay?” Amanda asked Dakota as soon as Pete was gone.

“Everything is fine,” she answered. “Pete was just being a dick. Pete being Pete I guess.”

“What did he say?” I couldn’t help my curiosity.

“Nothing I haven’t heard before. He thinks I’m still hung up on him for whatever reason he wants, but it’s aggravating how full of himself he gets. You’ll see it,” she said, turning to me. She was talking to me because she knew. She knew that I was hopelessly in love with the boy. She knew that I was where she had been a year before: hung up.

It was right then and there that I decided I wasn’t going to go down like that. I wasn’t going to grow bitter and angry and have Pete assume I was in love with him at every turn. I was going to reject my own feelings before he had a chance to reject them for me. If I checked how I felt, I couldn’t fall in that trap.

I’ll start tomorrow, I thought as soon as I saw the cute British smile come in to the room. There was no way I could quit him cold turkey, so I decided I’d be strong tomorrow.

That night, we hung out in my room while the party of the year raged on downstairs. Every time I told the group we should go downstairs, something new happened. First, we tried to find Mister, who had disappeared upon seeing how many people were in my bedroom. I looked behind the bed while Pete looked underneath it.

“Boys, the cat’s in here,” Dakota slurred, pointing to an open dresser drawer.

“Not my undershirts!” I said, crawling off the bed and almost stepping on Pete’s hand as he crawled out from under it. After that, we played with Mister, leading her around the room with one of the toys I had bought for her. Even in that room full of people, she gravitated towards Pete in a way that I found endearing. At one point, the two of them hid under my bed and you could hear him talking to her.

“He’s so wasted,” Amanda observed.

“Why is he so anti-social?” I asked, putting my cup of mostly vodka and a little lemonade down. I walked over to Pete and pulled at his feet.

“What the fuck?!” he squealed as I slid him from under the bed. I only assisted his bed-ectomy up to his shoulders. He crawled out the rest of the way himself.

“You can’t spend an entire party under someone’s bed,” I scolded as he turned to face me.

“I can if I want,” he replied defiantly. He raised an eyebrow towards me, and I cocked my head down at him.

“Not in my room killer,” I snarked. A second later, I felt two strong hands encircle my right foot. I lost my balance and fell onto my hands, just above the Brit.

“That’s a much closer view,” I said with a pant, my face inches away from his.

“You don’t have to shout,” he smiled. I smiled back, internalizing just how close I was to the guy I’d been wanting to get this close to for a while now. I was one elbow bend away from kissing him; I could smell his breath; feel his chest go up and down.

And I could, very clearly, hear the others in the room. It was one of those moments where I would have given anything I had, anything at all, to redo this moment without the others. But I couldn’t. Hurricane Dakota was feet away from me, blowing gale force winds, charming the pants off Amanda and James, and wondering what Pete and I were doing.

“No seriously, what are those two doing?” she asked. I heard the comment out of the corner of my beer, and as I processed it, I felt Pete’s strong hand slip between our bodies and shove me out from on top of him. I understood that he didn’t want his friend to see us in such a compromising composition, but it jolted me to the point of upsetting me, being thrown off a guy as if I was the one that had put myself there.

“Hey!” I shouted, pouncing back onto him, this time landing with my arm around his neck. I pulled him into a pretty harmless chokehold, but a chokehold nonetheless.

“Ouh!” he grunted. “Get! Off! Me!”

He used what strength he had left to push me back, release my hand, and forge his way onto my body. I kicked from under him as he straddled me, holding me down, and taking control of my arms.

“What the fuck?” I heard one of the two girls say from above us. I could blindly see flashes going off, and I knew Dakota was probably taking pictures.

“Cut it out!” I heard Amanda shout.

“Get off me,” I panted, wrestling Pete from my submissive position on my back. “Get the fuck off me!” I couldn’t tell if I was still play wrestling or if I was actually growing upset with him. If he didn’t want to be seen with me on top of him, he shouldn’t have tripped me into falling on top of him. There was a crystal clear way of avoiding that, and it genuinely pissed me off that he had pushed me aside as if I was the culprit.

I continued to shove upwards, landing my hands under his chin several times, until he loosened the grip of his body around me.

“Okay, okay,” he sighed. “Truce. Let’s call a truce.”

“Fine,” I replied, pulling my hands from his face and setting them down next to my body. I really did plan on retreating and letting him go, but as soon as he stepped off of me, I had a different idea. As I sat up, watching him take a deep breath as he stood up, I decided that he may have had the higher ground, but I could catch him off guard quite easily.

“Fuck you!” I shrieked, pouncing all the way from my sitting position on the floor and tackling Pete square onto my bed. I heard Dakota laugh really loud and Amanda squeal yet again. This time, I didn’t let him get the better position over me. I kept him straddled between my legs and wrestled him into submission. Mister, who had been more or less safe under the bed, felt the ruckus above my mattress and scurried from her corner into the closet across the room.

“What the fuck?” Pete panted, trying to wrestle me out. We fought like little schoolboys for what felt like an hour, ignoring Amanda’s pleas for us to stop, and having total disregard for Dakota’s paparazzi taking in the corner.

By the time Amanda was able to pull us apart, I had completely forgotten what we were fighting over.

What I couldn’t rightfully forget, however, was how turned on wrestling with Pete had made me. I adjusted myself as I sat up and tried to catch my breath, making sure no bulge was visible. I stole a glance at Pete, and thought that I saw a little wrinkle going from his crotch down his right leg, but I couldn’t be sure. And with all eyes on the two of us, I didn’t want to stare.

“What the hell are you two boys fighting about?” Amanda scolded, her voice harsh and motherly.

“Nothing,” I replied sheepishly.

“Doesn’t look like nothing when you have him in a head lock and both of you have punch stains all over,” she said. I looked at Pete and shrugged at me.

“I’m sorry man,” he said, breathing in heavily. “I shouldn’t have tripped you.”

“You’re right,” I said with a cocked eyebrow. I turned and caught Amanda’s eye. “I’m sorry too. I guess.”

“No more fighting,” she said, pointing a finger at our drunk faces. Fuck that, I thought. I’d wrestle Pete until I came if that was the only way I’d get close to him.

“Can I just point out how homoerotic these pictures are?” Dakota said, breaking the seriousness like only she could. “I mean, I could send these in to some amateur porn site and make a killing, I’m sure.”

I leapt off the bed and circled around to Dakota and her camera. She flipped through the digital pictures of Pete and I, and I had to agree. They were more of the porn variety of wrestling and less of the American Gladiator variety. In one shot I’m glad she didn’t linger on, you could clearly see a tent in my pants pointing straight towards Pete’s face as I straddled his chest. I swallowed hard and wondered yet again how I’d never fucked this kid yet.

The conversation quickly changed to Pete defending manly wrestling. Nothing about it had been ‘homoerotic’ to him. But Dakota was relentless, and I could see him starting to blush. I wanted so badly to egg him on, but I could see how agitated he was getting from Dakota’s chiding that I decided to keep quiet and enjoy the conversation.

“There’s nothing gay about two guys wrestling,” he pressed. “And even if there was-“

“Big ‘if’ from a guy who thinks there’s nothing to it,” Dakota interrupted.

“You, ma’am, are archaic.”

“And you, sir, are gay.”

“See,” he said, turning to me. “This is what’s wrong with Americans, more specifically Texans. In Europe, there’s nothing more masculine than two guys wrestling. Here, two guys so much as shake hands for more than a second, and they’ve got a scarlet G plastered to their t-shirts.”

“Would it be a scarlet G, or a pink G?” I asked, narrowing my eyes. Pete cracked a smile.

“Maybe a rainbow G, now that I think about it,” he said, his demeanor softening. It was quite the denial for someone who had just spent a solid twenty minutes alternating between being under me and over me.

And yet, it was a firm denial. A kick in the face for a guy holding on to threadbare shreds of hope. As I listened to Dakota poke into Pete over and over, sipping what remained of my vodka, I couldn’t help but feel the pendulum swing back to the heterosexual side. It annoyed me how quickly a guy like Pete could turn it on and off. What annoyed me even more, was how a guy like me could get sucked into it. He was sitting there telling the room he was straight. He had no reason to lie; none at all. And yet I was hard pressed to believe him. Why? Because of some stupid signs I read too deep into. Because I desperately wanted him to be gay.

As their conversation raged on, our drinking continued. Eventually, over more beer, vodka, water, and cranberry juice, the conversation turned to tolerance, intolerance, marriage equality, and
Texans’ misguided opinions to begin with.

It was when I heard the first sentence about religion surface that I stood up and rallied the troops.

“Let’s go downstairs,” I said, looking down at my watch and realizing it was almost 3:30. “How about we all dance it off?”

I stumbled over my coffee table as I stood unbalanced. Nothing had touched me. Nothing had moved me. I had simply lost balance due to drinking for six consecutive hours. I tripped over my coffee table and onto the couch right in between the argument between the Texan and the Brit.

As if all of my rationalizing about Pete being straight and me wishing him into the gay box had never happened, I immediately felt myself melting back into him as he caught me. As I was falling over the table, I saw Dakota dodge out of the way as if I was a rubber ball in an elementary school gym. She nearly knocked her drink off the table as she climbed from the couch to the armrest.

“Watch out!” Amanda shouted, stepping towards the couch from where she stood.

But it was Pete who caught me. Solid, straight Peter who reached out and grabbed me under the arms and eased me down on top of him.

“I guess I lost my balance,” I smiled, literally inches away from his face. I had to send actual brainwaves through my body to tell it not to react to the close proximity.

The way we’d landed had resulted in my leg being planted between Pete’s, and our pelvises being lodged firmly together. My chest pressed against his; it would have been physically impossible for us to be any closer without us fusing together.

“Another homoerotic photo,” Dakota announced as the flash from her Polaroid camera went off. “That one deserved the special camera.”

Pete looked up at her, snapped back into the moment, and pushed me aside.

“Next time, watch your step,” he said softly, standing and turning to me.

“Let’s go downstairs,” I said, standing more carefully this time. It felt useless to fall again without Pete in front of me to catch it. I turned to see my knight in shining armor crawling towards my bed.

“What are you doing?” Amanda beat me to the question.

“Huh?” he asked, turning his head. His ass was in full view, barely contained by his jeans in that position. “I just want to say goodnight to Mister before we leave.”

“Oh, jeez,” Dakota snarked.

“We’re waiting on you,” I said as he crawled under my bed.

“Come here, Mister kitty,” I heard Pete coo under my bed.

“He’s always been this scattered,” Dakota said, crossing her arms and sitting back down. “In case you were wondering.”

I shrugged. I decided that while Pete crawled around under my bed, I’d change out of my punch lined shirt and put on something clean. I rummaged around until I found a Habitat for Humanity t-shirt I had procured in high school.

“Okay, you’ve said your goodbye,” I said, pulling on a new shirt. “Can we go? We’re missing the party.”

I took a step towards Pete’s legs, the only part that was sticking out from under the bed. They had stopped moving and there was no response from the Brit.

“Pete?” I asked softly, stepping over him. I knelt down and looked under the bed. Pete was lying on his crossed hands, his head at the opposite end of the bed. Mister had crawled up into the nook between Pete’s shoulder blades and was nestled in next to him. The only way I knew that Pete was passed out and not dead was from the romantic way that Mister rose and fell with Pete’s breathing.

I climbed up, sighed, and said softly: “We’ve lost him.”

“What?” Amanda asked.

“Pete,” I replied with a serious face. “He’s fallen asleep.”

“You’ve got to be kidding,” Dakota said, shaking her head. It was comical how less than five minutes prior, no one had been particularly interested in going to the party downstairs, but now that Pete was asleep, it was almost as if the whole party was ruined.

“I mean, you can try to wake him up if you want,” I said, walking across and sitting back down. “Or you can go downstairs without him.”

“And let him spend the night here? Under your bed?”

“He’s slept here more times than I know,” I replied with a shrug. There was a brief but clear shift in Dakota’s face as she deciphered my words and my tone. She swallowed and cleared her throat, suppressing whatever feeling had threatened to surface.

“I guess I’ll call it a night too,” she replied.

“Yeah, me too,” Amanda said, standing. “Have a good night babe.”

I watched as Dakota gathered her things and exited, along with German James, who’d been silently nonexistent throughout the livelier portions of the night, and Amanda, who I could tell had enjoyed watching the ships of friendship sink all around her.

I took in a deep breath as the door closed and thought about what I should do next. Part of me wanted to go to late night and hang out, but it was already really late and people were already coupling off. What was the point? Besides, if I did run into someone I wanted to bring home, I wouldn’t take them upstairs while Pete was asleep under my bed.

And then there was the question about Pete. He knew he was ready to pass out. He knew was tired. And yet he crawled under my bed to fall asleep… why not just walk home? Why not say something and then go back to the upperclassmen dorms? Why wait until you were so tired you couldn’t walk and then crawl under a gay guy’s bed?

For the hundredth time in a row, I was left wondering. I was left reeling through my feelings of uncertainty. I couldn’t deal with how easy it was for Pete to say that he was straight, but his actions said the complete opposite. There was nothing straight about the way he treated me, and his friends along with my friends were starting to see that.

And the one person I knew saw it the best was the one person that mattered the most: Dakota. If his best friend could sense something between us, it meant I wasn’t crazy. No matter what the Brit said, actions would always speak louder than words. And right now, the words “I’m not gay” were passed out under my very gay bed.

                                                                                                                             

Thanks for your patience in waiting for this chapter. I hope you enjoy it! As usual, leave your reviews and comments in the review section, or head on over to the message boards and tell me what you think. Happy holidays!

Copyright © 2016 Jwolf; All Rights Reserved.
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Chapter Comments

Oh my. Looky who came out from under the bed. tongue.png Glad to see you back. I missed silly Corbin and his confused little brit. "Scotty Doesn't Know" about killed me. That was funny stuff. I liked this chapter and I think that Dakota turned out pretty cool. I want to see what happens with all that there. I just want to see a little tiny kiss out of them. Silly,Silly boys. Adorable, but silly. I hope the next chapter is ready soon and I truly hope that all is well on your end. Yay for Corbin and Pete!

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On 11/19/2012 12:46 PM, methodwriter85 said:
You nail the mid/late 2000's college experience. You NAIL it. The "Scotty Doesn't Know" reference had me rolling.
thanks so much, man! Scotty Doesn't Know was THE party song that year. Glad you enjoyed it :)
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On 11/19/2012 02:04 PM, Carrie76 said:
Oh my. Looky who came out from under the bed. tongue.png Glad to see you back. I missed silly Corbin and his confused little brit. "Scotty Doesn't Know" about killed me. That was funny stuff. I liked this chapter and I think that Dakota turned out pretty cool. I want to see what happens with all that there. I just want to see a little tiny kiss out of them. Silly,Silly boys. Adorable, but silly. I hope the next chapter is ready soon and I truly hope that all is well on your end. Yay for Corbin and Pete!
Thanks for the review :) All is well, just super busy. Not as much 'me time' for me this time of year. But the next chapter should be out soon. Glad you enjoyed :)
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What I'd really like to think is that all Pete needs is a little push (or perhaps a pull), you know, to get him out of the closet. He reminds me of a friend who goes to AA meetings but doesn't believe he's an alcoholic. I can't decide how much patience Corbin has left at this point. I can just hear Corbin saying, "Well, I hope you and Mister will be very happy together!"

Wrestling is an excellent exercise. thumbsup.gif

Great chapter, Jwolf! thumbsupsmileyanim.gif Keep 'em coming!

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On 11/19/2012 03:25 PM, Conner said:
What I'd really like to think is that all Pete needs is a little push (or perhaps a pull), you know, to get him out of the closet. He reminds me of a friend who goes to AA meetings but doesn't believe he's an alcoholic. I can't decide how much patience Corbin has left at this point. I can just hear Corbin saying, "Well, I hope you and Mister will be very happy together!"

Wrestling is an excellent exercise. thumbsup.gif

Great chapter, Jwolf! thumbsupsmileyanim.gif Keep 'em coming!

Haha! Thanks for the awesome review. I will say, I don't foresee Corbin running out of patience any time soon, but his next couple of decisions may surprise you a little. More to come :)
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On 11/20/2012 07:39 AM, Rosicky said:
I've been loving this series for quite a while! What are Corbs & Pete doing for Thanksgiving? :-)
haha. Wouldn't you like to know? Thanks for the review. I look forward to seeing what you think as the series progresses.
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Jon! You're back! Good, now I can call off the search and rescue team! lol Glad to know you're just busy and nothing is wrong.

 

Boy did I miss my Corbin/Pete fix. So hard, (ha, no pun intended!), to figure Pete out. I'm with Corbs on this. When it's just Pete and Corbs together, he's great. But what's with his pushing Corbin off him when it was clearly PETE who tripped Corbin and made him fall on him? And then the tables are turned and he pushes Corbin out from under him. But all this happens ONLY B/C SOMEONE SAYS SOMETHING. What would have happened if no one had been in the room? Or if they were in the room but they never said anything? What would Pete have done then? So curious.....

 

I too LOVED the "Scotty Doesn't Know" song! I just watched the vid on YouTube just to hear it again, lol.

 

I'm also curious about Dakota's past relationship with Pete. She was in love with him, but what did he feel about her? Does she know all his secrets? Seems like she should if they are indeed bff's. And I'm sure she could totally tell how Corbs feels about Pete. I didn't like Corbin thinking that he didn't want to wind up like Dakota regarding his feelings for Pete. He can't just give up b/c he's not sure where Pete stands. If he doesn't take a chance; take a risk, he'll never know for sure. He does want to know one way or the other. He's gonna have to be the one to make the first move. Pete will never do it. At least with anyone in the room. And maybe he'll bolt, but maybe he won't. Corbs won't know unless he takes that chance.

 

But totally love Dakota; she rocks! :2thumbs:

 

And totally LOVE how Mister is in love with Pete too! Hahah, Corbs has a gay cat, oops, just remembered she's a she and not a he. hahah Never mind, Corbs doesn't have a gay cat; he has a straight cat and she's in love with Pete too. He has some tough competition and unfortunately I think Mister is gonna win. lol

 

Ok Jon, welcome back! :) Can't wait for the next installment. =)

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On 11/20/2012 04:06 PM, Lisa said:
Jon! You're back! Good, now I can call off the search and rescue team! lol Glad to know you're just busy and nothing is wrong.

 

Boy did I miss my Corbin/Pete fix. So hard, (ha, no pun intended!), to figure Pete out. I'm with Corbs on this. When it's just Pete and Corbs together, he's great. But what's with his pushing Corbin off him when it was clearly PETE who tripped Corbin and made him fall on him? And then the tables are turned and he pushes Corbin out from under him. But all this happens ONLY B/C SOMEONE SAYS SOMETHING. What would have happened if no one had been in the room? Or if they were in the room but they never said anything? What would Pete have done then? So curious.....

 

I too LOVED the "Scotty Doesn't Know" song! I just watched the vid on YouTube just to hear it again, lol.

 

I'm also curious about Dakota's past relationship with Pete. She was in love with him, but what did he feel about her? Does she know all his secrets? Seems like she should if they are indeed bff's. And I'm sure she could totally tell how Corbs feels about Pete. I didn't like Corbin thinking that he didn't want to wind up like Dakota regarding his feelings for Pete. He can't just give up b/c he's not sure where Pete stands. If he doesn't take a chance; take a risk, he'll never know for sure. He does want to know one way or the other. He's gonna have to be the one to make the first move. Pete will never do it. At least with anyone in the room. And maybe he'll bolt, but maybe he won't. Corbs won't know unless he takes that chance.

 

But totally love Dakota; she rocks! :2thumbs:

 

And totally LOVE how Mister is in love with Pete too! Hahah, Corbs has a gay cat, oops, just remembered she's a she and not a he. hahah Never mind, Corbs doesn't have a gay cat; he has a straight cat and she's in love with Pete too. He has some tough competition and unfortunately I think Mister is gonna win. lol

 

Ok Jon, welcome back! :) Can't wait for the next installment. =)

Hey Lisa! You know I loooove your reviews. This one did not disappoint. You get a little more on the backstory with PEte and Dakota in the next chapter. You also get an insight on the fight... du nu nu. Also, I'm a little surprised you like Dakota, but I'll take it. She's a sweet girl in real life. Until next time :)
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These two, Corbin and Pete, are going back and forth, round and round so much they are starting to confuse me. The Patsy Cline song comes to mind, "Stop the World and Let Me Off". Yep, definitely getting dizzy from these two.

 

I think Corbin just needs to lay a big, fat, juicy french kiss on Pete and get it over with once and for all! Pete will either reciprocate or run away never to talk to Corbin again. One way or another the tension between these two has got to let up or they are both going to have a meltdown of gigantic proportions.

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I almost skipped right by it, but the reference here about Kyle at SMU has to mean that Dakota and Corbin are contemporaries with The List and what would you say a cousin story to A Funny Thing Happened... I am still a Kyle fan, and have been all along!

This is very similar to the other stories with insecurity, questioning sexuality and the inability to move forward. I love it. Thanks for this! For sharing your talent and your imagination.

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On 11/23/2012 06:14 PM, CW Prince said:
These two, Corbin and Pete, are going back and forth, round and round so much they are starting to confuse me. The Patsy Cline song comes to mind, "Stop the World and Let Me Off". Yep, definitely getting dizzy from these two.

 

I think Corbin just needs to lay a big, fat, juicy french kiss on Pete and get it over with once and for all! Pete will either reciprocate or run away never to talk to Corbin again. One way or another the tension between these two has got to let up or they are both going to have a meltdown of gigantic proportions.

Thanks for the review! You're pretty much right on the nose with your review... either something big happens in the next couple of chapters OR there's a major meltdown... I can't tell you which, but hopefully you'll enjoy it :) Thanks again.
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On 11/25/2012 05:38 PM, GeR said:
I almost skipped right by it, but the reference here about Kyle at SMU has to mean that Dakota and Corbin are contemporaries with The List and what would you say a cousin story to A Funny Thing Happened... I am still a Kyle fan, and have been all along!

This is very similar to the other stories with insecurity, questioning sexuality and the inability to move forward. I love it. Thanks for this! For sharing your talent and your imagination.

Hey GeR. Thanks so much for an awesome review. I'm really glad you're enjoying the story. The reference is a small one off, something for the fans of those two stories, I guess you'd say. Since the List was loosely based on my freshman year and The English Year is strictly based on my junior year, I figured a cross-reference wouldn't hurt. Glad you're enjoying the story!
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Refreshing and catching up! I genuinely feel sorry for Corbin, which I thought I would never do. He is so confused and enamored with Pete. Dakota seems to be the one that might get the hardheaded Brit to come to his "gay senses". Great chapter. I seem to be a couple of chapters behind, but that is a good thing. Loving it!!!

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On 01/10/2013 06:53 AM, joann414 said:
Refreshing and catching up! I genuinely feel sorry for Corbin, which I thought I would never do. He is so confused and enamored with Pete. Dakota seems to be the one that might get the hardheaded Brit to come to his "gay senses". Great chapter. I seem to be a couple of chapters behind, but that is a good thing. Loving it!!!
Hey! Glad the rain is bringing you back! Just in time for a new chapter too. Can't wait to see what you think moving forward.
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