Poesy

the jock and the nerd

I have to be stealthy about this. A Cupid-ninja hybrid, if you will. Annika knows me better than anyone. If she gets the tiniest inkling that I'm up to something, my little scheme will be over before you can say, bad idea.

As soon as Annika and I walk into George's house, we make our way over to the keg and pump our red cups full of foamy, cheap beer. One of the things about growing up above a bar, I've become a bit of a beer snob. Usually, I bring my own, but with my dad's little visitor there, I escaped that awkward situation as quickly as I could.

A group of squealing girls I know faintly, rush over and wrap their arms around Annika. With her occupied, this is the perfect opportunity to scope out the party for potential suitors and some tomato juice to cut the bad taste of this beer.

We've been to a handful of parties here so I know my way to the kitchen. Luckily a jug of tomato juice is waiting for me on the counter. Us Nebraskans love our red beer.

As I mix the drink, I scan the room. A brave group is seated at the table playing, what I assume, is strip poker, as most of them are down to their skivvies. Annika likes a little muscle and the boys that are playing are not quite sufficient in that department. Next.

One boy sits on the floor, head hanging low, passed out. Lightweight. Next.

I accidentally make full, deep eye contact with a tall, brunette boy entering. I take a swig of my beer, while he shines a big stupid grin at me. He's not bad looking, actually, he's pretty okay, but not Annika's type. Don't come over here. Don't come over here. Crap, he's coming over.

Smack.

His face collides with the freezer door as someone swings it open. Red liquid shoots out of my mouth all over the counter as I burst into laughter.

"Oh, my bad dude," the guys now closing the freezer, says. "You okay?"

The confused look on the brunette boy's face makes me giggle even harder and he glances at me. He smiles again, while he continues over, completely ignoring the other guy. I wipe the dripping beer off my chin with my hoodie sleeve.

"You thought that was pretty funny, huh?"

The image of the door hitting him in the face replays in my head and I start laughing again. "I'm sorry, I can't stop."

"Nah, it was funny," he says chuckling and rubbing his forehead with his hand. "You're Poesy, right?"

I blow out a large breath, trying to regain my composure before I speak. "How do you know my name?"

"I don't know. We've been going to the same school for four years, maybe." He shrugs.

"And yet, I don't know yours."

He grins a little and nods. "Well, I'm Jude."

"Heyyy Jude," I sing to The Beatles melody.

"Never heard that one before."

I sigh. "Well, Jude. As much as love to sit here and watch that lump on your forehead grow, I am on a mission tonight."

"Mission? I love missions. I am an excellent spy."

"I noticed, very inconspicuous," I say, raising my eyebrows.