Nathan Marsh's State of Being

Chapter Twenty Two

*Georgie is they/them. Please don't use anything else.*

disoriented

part two

"Nate, Harley, hold up!"

I turned to see Dylan jogging up to the pair of us. Harley gave him a friendly smile. I mirrored it and raised a brow. "Hi. What's up?"

When he caught up, the three of us began walking briskly together. The mid-February air was chilling on my face. I wished I hadn't forgotten to grab my scarf from where Noel had tossed it while teasing me the day before.

"Seriously, Nat, you don't even need this," he'd said with a laugh. "It's not that cold out, valley boy."

His eyes shone and I scoffed at him as he threw my black scarf. It landed underneath the desk.

I'd just turned my eyes back to him with a raised brow. "That was pretty damn rude. And I'm not from the valley. We've been over this."

He wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at me. He ignored the second half of what I said, like usual, but I didn't really mind. "I could warm you up if you wanted."

I rolled my eyes and made a joke to deflect his. "Out on the sidewalk? You're shameless, Noel."

"I know."

At that moment, I wanted what he'd suggested so badly. But Noel also made me so incredibly nervous lately when he said things like that. I'd been feeling it ever since we'd almost hooked up, just the two of us. We hadn't had a threesome since, but that hadn't stopped him from having his one on one sessions with women in our room at random hours of the day.

I had a list of one-sided messages from Noel sitting in our text chat.

Noel

Wait an hour before you come back

Bringing someone back while you're in history class.

About to fuck, wait for me to text you, unless you want to 🧐

The last was an obvious joke, which I had ignored at the time, but that didn't stop me from thinking about it every now and then. It seemed like he was insatiable lately. And I fucking wished more than anything that I had been a part of it, all banter aside.

But the logical part of me that I'd somehow become friends with in the last year knew I shouldn't do it. So I never initiated anything, letting him come to me if he really felt like it.

And so far, he hadn't besides that one quip of an emoji. Which could have meant anything.

"I was wondering," Dylan said, his breath coming out in visible puffs, "if you guys wanted to come with me to a lecture the Queer Club is having tonight? It's at five."

I looked over at Harley who made a face. "Not my speed," he said.

I saw Dylan's full bottom lip pout out in disappointment. My chest panged for him. I glared at Harley who didn't seem to notice.

"I'll go," I told Dylan, nudging his arm. His dark cheeks scrunched up in a bright smile. His big, doe eyes looked happier than I'd ever seen them. "But, I didn't know you went to that kind of thing."

"And do they really call it the Queer Club?" Harley interjected with his eyebrows spiking.

Dylan nodding, stuffing his hands into his pockets to avoid the blustery wind that carried sparse, fat raindrops down around us.