“Um.” Archer looked between Caleb’s furrowed eyebrows and Mateo’s barely contained smirk. “Sorry, I’m going to let Mateo be in charge. He knows what he’s doing and I’m a rookie.”

That was the beginning of the end. Caleb got sulkier and sulkier as he and Betty lost all their money, and the stack of bills in front of Mateo and Archer grew and grew. Most of the others were too drunk or busy making illegal trades to notice or care about Caleb’s sulking. But when he had to mortgage his last property, he quit.

“Whatever,” he fumed. “This is such a stupid game, anyway. Everyone always breaks the rules. I’m going to bed.”

He was met with a chorus of boos and tossed cushions, but he flounced away anyway.

Archer sighed and saw Mateo watching him. “I guess I’d better go after him,” Archer said.

There was a shift to Mateo’s features that Archer couldn’t quite read. “Guess so.”

Archer followed Caleb out into the night, wishing he was still in the cozy circle around the coffee table.

9 Tea for Three

Archer couldn’t find Caleb anywhere. He was not on the path ahead of him back to their dorm, and he wasn’t in their room or the bathroom. So Archer shrugged and got ready for bed, figuring Caleb would show up when he was done pouting. He fell asleep quickly, the exhausting week and promise of a Sunday morning sleep-in pulling him down into a deep slumber.

When he woke to the sound of Beau and Ben stumbling off to breakfast in the morning, Archer allowed himself the luxury of rolling over and burrowing back under the blankets. The second time he blinked into consciousness, the room was empty. He soaked in the silence, stretching out each finger and toe, enjoying the shiver in his muscles. When he felt ready to face the world, he grabbed his phone and saw a message from Lynn: How’s things?

Great! he replied. We made it once through all the shows. Pretty smooth.

Her reply popped up right away. And Caleb?

Yeah, we’re still … hanging out.

Just hanging? No other “ing” verbs?

Not yet … I don’t know … He’s hot but it
doesn’t feel quite right?

In the words of the divine
Ms. Natasha Lyonne, it’s sex, not
a space shuttle launch.

Archer laughed at the American Pie reference. I know … but I could very well be heading back to Ohio in the fall, so no point in getting heavily involved with someone. Or what if we break up before that and still have to dance together every night?

True, true … or do you have your
eye on Mateo still?

Archer’s cheeks reddened, remembering the heat of Mateo’s body pressed to his on the couch last night. Definitely not. So, any new proposal ideas?