“Something like ‘save me from frat boys,’ ” Matt says. I see a flicker of annoyance in his eyes. Jealousy?
“What else?”
“I called you when I got the text and you said you went out with a gay guy named Wade and—”
“I said Wade was gay?” I interrupt, frowning.
“Well, you kept saying over and over that he needs to come out of the closet,” Matt replies.
I laugh in a quick exhale. “I think I meant that about something else…. Anyway, keep going.”
“Okay, so you gave me this totally cryptic description of where you were,” Matt says. “You said you were at Freckler with the moose.”
“What does that even mean?” I ask, embarrassed about my weird language and about getting drunk in the first place. It’s not me.
“Eventually, I figured out that you meant Specter Hall,” he explains. “They have holiday reindeer on their lawn, all lit up and everything. One is really huge and could be mistaken for a moose.”
“It’s September,” I say.
“Yes, it is,” Matt says back. “Anyway, that made it easier.”
“I’m so sorry.”
“No worries—it was sort of fun,” Matt says. “I pretended I was on one of those reality challenges… like I only had three hours to get to you or I’d lose out on a million dollars.”
“Did you win?” I ask.
“No,” he admits. “But only by fifteen minutes.”
“I wonder what kind of trouble I was getting in while you were driving from Omaha,” I say.
“I think you were okay,” Matt says. “I talked to you a couple of times on the way. You were in that red room alone most of the time, except when you were in the bathroom, puking.”
Half-embarrassed, half-flattered that he took care of me, I keep quiet.
“You’re lucky your parents got you your own room,” Matt says.
“Yeah,” I agree weakly.
“Otherwise, you’d be in it for sure,” he continues. “That was pretty dumb of you, you know. Getting lit with strange guys in a strange city. You could have been…”
“I know,” I say quietly.
“Or, hell, even—”
“I know!” I say louder. “Shut up already!”
Matt looks at me, surprised, and we both can’t help but laugh a little. Then we grow quiet, staring at each other.
“Anyway, thank you,” I say.
“No problem,” Matt says. “But you should really be thanking me for washing barf out of your hair.”
My eyes widen before I pull the covers over my head and hide. I hear Matt laugh before he pokes me in the arm.
“I’m ordering food. What sounds good?”