there wasnât any more to it.
âNot at all,â I said, sliding out the chair. Playing nonchalant was my best way out of this becoming awkward. In theory.
The next ten seconds of silence were potentially the most cringe-worthy of my life. Especially because Ethan was leaning forward with his hands clasped before him, a slight grin on his face, like he was about to do a job interview. Thankfully, Oliver came to the rescue.
âYou ready for the Russian Lit quiz Tuesday?â he asked, popping a nugget in his mouth.
Chrisâs face lit up at the bone Oliver threw him.
âNot really,â he said. âI still have to finish the last fifty pages of Tolstoy.â
âUgh, have fun,â Oliver replied. âAt least itâs not Nabokov anymore. Guy made me want to shoot myself.â
âIsnât that the whole point of Russian literature?â Chris asked innocently.
I chuckled. âWell played, sir. Well played.â
âSpeaking of shooting ourselves, we were just talking about Painting Studio,â Ethan said. âAnd how excited we are for Tamoraâs piece.â
Chris laughedâit was one of those laughs that was too loud for the situation, which just made it even funnier.
âI nearly lost it last time,â he said. âI just hope she wasnât using oil paints. Those can damage you.â
I tried to filter out the boysâ banter and focus on food. Faux nuggets and macaroni was easily my favorite meal in the known universe, and if I let myself pay attention to the boy sitting a foot to my right, Iâd lose my appetite entirely. That would be a grave disservice to the gods of food.
It worked. Right up to the point where Ethan threw a nugget at my head.
âEarth to Kaira,â he said when I jumped back in my seat. âYou still there?â
âWhat? Sorry, zoning out.â
âWe noticed,â Ethan replied. âChris just asked what we were doing tonight.â
âWe?â
âYou were coming to my concert, right?â Oliver asked.
I nodded, then caught the drift.
âWhat our eloquent friend is trying to say,â Ethan intervened, âis that youâre more than welcome to join us. Kaira and I were going to meet in the Writersâ House at six thirty to grab some hot cocoa before braving our way to the auditorium. Sound good?â
âPerfect,â Chris replied. A pause. âYou donât really think Tamora painted with her nether regions again, do you?â
It took a moment for my brain to start working and connect the dots, as it had begun to spin on heâs going to a concert with you, heâs going to a concert with you . It made my pulse race, and not in a good way.
âI hope not,â Ethan said. âBut as they say, âGod hates the gays.â This would just be another fitting form of punishment.â
Oliver chuckled and kissed Ethan on the cheek. I glanced to Chris, who was grinning and picking at his food. When his brown eyes darted to mine, I was immediately grateful for that previous stuffing of my face. My heart leaped into my throat, and any chance of food getting past the obstruction was lost.
I know it was stupid, but something in that smile reminded me of Brad.
â¢Â  â¢Â  â¢
âYou were totally smooth,â Ethan said as we left the cafeteria. âI mean, like, Oscar-worthy performance in there. I nearly cried.â
âShut up.â I rammed my elbow into him, maybe a little harder than necessary. I wasnât pissed, really, but the fact that Chris made me think of my ex had me on edge. âIf I remember correctly, you werenât nearly as eloquent when you first met Oliver.â
âGirl has a point,â Oliver said, grabbing my free arm. âShe led that conversation. In fact, she nearly took our first kiss from you.â
âI hate you both,â Ethan muttered.
âAnyway, Chris is cute. And intelligent,
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