Studio 63 was off campus, and if only close friends were going to be there…. Jack grinned and got to texting Ed back. “I hope so,” he said to Marcus. “I really hope so.”
The alarm went off. Despite being Monday, Jack popped up and debated how best to torture Marcus on his special day.
“Marcus.” His voice was louder than normal, not quite a shout. That got a small movement from his brother. “Marcus!”
“Huh?” Marcus opened his bleary eyes and looked at Jack. He groaned as Jack grabbed his ankles, poking out the end of the blanket, and dragged him half off the bed.
“Happy birthday, man. Wanna run?”
“Winner gets a gift?” Marcus scrambled up, scouring the room for where Jack might have stashed said gift.
Jack laughed and grabbed his toiletry gear. “Be ready in five, Reynolds.”
Marcus was ready in three, and his birthday spirit had him sprinting well before the turnaround point.
“You only won because I felt sorry for you,” Jack puffed out as they traipsed back inside the house. “Be a shame to lose out on your gift….”
“Yeah, right. Now gimme.”
Jack opened his desk drawer and drew out the messily wrapped gift. Marcus snatched it out of his hands, gleefully ripping into it. Hollering when he pulled out the collection of Plague Uprooted books.
Looking at it now had Jack reliving that first moment in the bookstore, glimpsing Tall Hot Guy for the first time….
He searched for his phone under the papers littering his desk—
Huh. No message. Jack frowned. Did that mean Ed didn’t want to go dancing or that he hadn’t had a chance to answer back yet? It was still early….
“Jack!”
He spun back to Marcus. “Huh, what?”
“Thanks.” Their chests slammed together with a hug, and Marcus thumped his back twice. “You’re the best roommate, the best friend, the best brother. I wanna keep all three.”
So did he.
Brittany was right; he needed to tell Marcus about Ed. About Harper and the bet.
Later, though. Before Friday night for sure. He just didn’t want to put a damper on Marcus’s birthday.
Studio 63 was pumping with sweaty bodies and music only Marcus liked. Inside, the place looked like a tropical island met a Goth storm.
Jack scored them a couple of beach chairs in the sandy area of the club, under a fake palm. No small feat on their popular Thursday night event. Lights blinked and music blared.
Brittany went the whole hog and—fake ID’ing it—bought a cocktail with a glow-in-the-dark umbrella. Marcus sat at the end of Jack’s beach chair, shouting along to the music.
Just as well Ed couldn’t make it. He might think twice about Jack, seeing this place. Besides they’d barely be able to talk, and…. Why was he fooling himself? It sucked Ed had an early morning job.
Sucked more that Jack was sure it was mostly an excuse. Studio 63 was off campus, but students sometimes swelled toward it.
He knocked his head against the back of the chair, hitting the metal frame a little too hard. Brittany raised a brow and him and leaned over. “What’s up?”
“Nothing—”
Marcus grabbed Jack’s ankle suddenly, and Jack jerked, tipping their cheap chair until they landed elbow deep in sand. “What the hell?”
Marcus scrambled to his knees, jerking a thumb toward the crowd. “What the hell, exactly. Why is Loch Ness here?”
Jack glimpsed the girl dancing a few feet from them in the crowd, hair swinging as she rocked. He shouted above a particularly loud screech of music, “Looks like she swims in the same lakes as you.”
Marcus stood, brushing the sand off his pants. He muttered something, then swiveled to Nessa in the crowd and tapped her shoulder.
Brittany lunged off her chair to eavesdrop. Jack laughed and then joined her, lying at the foot end of his chair to watch the charade.
Marcus pointed to her and then said something about it being his birthday. Whatever he’d been attempting backfired, because Nessa—slightly inebriated by the looks of it—wrapped her arms around his neck. “Let’s dance.”
Jack snickered, and Marcus must have heard it because he glared back at him, then ducked out of Nessa’s grip.
“Go on, dance.”
That got Jack the bird. Marcus made up an excuse of going to the men’s room and hurried off the dance floor.
Brittany crouched next to him in the sand. “I’m telling you, Jackson, there’s something up with those two. Their ‘I hate her/him’ routine is just cover.” Brittany slurped the last of her cocktail for emphasis.
“Ya think?” His sarcasm earned him a smack to the back of the head.
“Don’t be a jackass.”
“Wow, great comeback, Brit. Haven’t heard that one before.” This time he avoided the swat. “Of course it’s just a cover. This is classic Marcus. Whenever he sees a girl he likes and isn’t sure she likes him, he does whatever he can to piss her off.”
Brittany shook her head, rolling her eyes dramatically. “What a brilliant mating ritual.” She raised her voice as another song started. “No wonder women don’t understand men.”
“Hey, I didn’t say all men do, just Marc. If she’s pissed off at him, he won’t ask her out. That way he can’t get shot down.” He shrugged. “I never said it was rational, just what he does.”
“This should be fun to watch, then. That girl is a female version of Marcus. They’re meant for each other.” Brittany leaned in even closer. “And the way they wind each other up—you can cut the sexual tension with a knife. So entertaining. Wanna bet she makes the first real move?”
The smile left Jack’s face. “Um, no. I don’t need to lose any more bets, thank you.”
Brittany laughed. “Yeah, good point.”
“What’s so funny?”
Jack looked up to find Vanessa standing before them. “Hey, Nessa. Nothing much.”
Brittany clambered back to her beach chair. “Private Marcus joke.”
“Oh.” Nessa sat with her, glancing between them. “In that case spill!”
“Sorry,” Jack said. “He’s my brother.”
“Is he really your brother? I mean, you’re so different.”
Brittany came to his rescue. “Marcus’s parents adopted Jack.”
“So how come you’re super nice and he’s a big lug?”
“Lug? Nah. Marcus is one of the good guys.” He forced himself to smile. “He got me through… it when my parents died. Without him I wouldn’t have made it.”
She bit her bottom lip, a small frown cutting her forehead. She opened her mouth to say something, but shut it again. She swiveled a bit as if to leave, then looked back at him. Curiosity and confusion glazed her eyes. “It’s just he’s always so snide and sarcastic around me.”
“That might go both ways, girl,” Brittany said.
Jack shrugged and pointed to said birthday boy threading his way through the crowd toward them. “Give him a chance. Maybe he’ll surprise you.”
And maybe… maybe the same could be said for Ed.