UNEDITED
After violating campus rules and committing student misconduct, twenty-three-year-old Warren Ashford is deep trouble and at risk of losing his volleyball scholarship -- the one thing he truly values other than his bad boy reputation, and hi...
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Warren
Tonight, at Swift Rock Pub, there's no band playing. Which sucks because I was looking forward to some good old country or an indie band to fill up the pub with music. Instead, it's karaoke night. Some cover songs have been great, while others have made me want to claw my ears out.
The pub is packed, and the booth the four of us are sitting at is small enough that our legs are cramped beneath the sticky tabletop. Easton sits across from me, a beer in hand. Julia sits next to him with some fruity drink. Nova is beside me, a tall glass of water in front of her. Right now, she's picking at the calamari we decided to order as an appetizer.
"You don't drink, Nova?" Easton asks, gesturing to her water.
If East meant those words as an accusation or a jab, they don't get to Nova – she shrugs and goes into great detail about how stupid and unhealthy it is to consume copious amounts of alcohol. Halfway through her spiel, East shoots me a desperate look. I simply shrug. What was he expecting from Nova? He doesn't know her as well as I do, but he should have been smart enough to realize the consequences of bringing up a debatable topic.
As their conversation goes on, I have to grin. It's funny to hear them argue and it only proves how weird their relationship is. Despite the fact that they share some interests, it's like they enjoy quarrelling just for the hell of it.
"I just don't know why you'd want to get drunk and feel like crap the next day," Nova says. "It makes no sense to me."
"Nova," East sighs, "sometimes you have to do it in order to understand. Think about the liquid confidence it could give you. Like, I bet if you tried the stuff, you'd like it."
"East," Nova replies. "I have gotten drunk before, but I don't do it every single weekend. That's the point I'm trying to get at."
Now that's a jab that hits me in a soft spot. I never really considered the effects of alcohol every weekend. Just like I never thought about how Nova must feel being kicked out every Friday night. Shit. Now I feel like an all-star jerk. She uprooted herself from Alberta and came to B.C., and I probably made her feel extremely uncomfortable by negotiating the rules with her. The dorm room would have been the most familiar thing to her, and I took that away.
"Okay, you two," Julia says. "We're here to have fun, so let's do that."
I smile to myself. Julia the Buffer. She obviously can't detect the playful, joking tone between them.
From there, we move on to a conversation about how the summer's been so far. East and Julia throw out numerous questions about how the fake-relationship is treating us. My mood instantly darkens when it's brought up, and the air between Nova and I thickens to the point where I feel like I'm breathing in smoke. Everything that has happened has been like a game of Ping-Pong – an endless back and forth that pushes and pulls our emotions. Some days I feel like she's warming up to me, while during others, I'm genuinely confused by her coldness and reactions to my kisses. Then there's the fact that she's told me nothing but a name – it's the only part of her past that I could obtain before she shut me out.
