They all stood and walked over to me and put on their coats. When I opened the door, I almost gasped. Ethan stood there, ready to ring the bell.

“Hey, dude!” Adam said happily.

“Hi, Ethan!” Blake and Sam kind of cheered, in unison.

He looked terrified, poor guy. “Hi, guys,” he quietly said.

“What are you doing here?” Sam asked, looking at me and then back at Ethan.

“I, uh—I came to get my jacket?” he said.

Or maybe asked. I didn’t really know if he even knew whether it was a question or a statement.

“Oh.” Sam turned back to face me. If she didn’t find Ethan Cooper standing at my front door odd to begin with, she certainly did now.

“He let me borrow his jacket to cover up the blood yesterday,” I explained.

“Oh, right!” Sam put her palm on her forehead. “I forgot Lucy attacked you.”

“Lucy?” Ethan asked, puzzled.

“Lucy Bell,” Blake said.

“Weren’t you two dating or something?” Sam asked a dumbfounded Ethan.

“Or something. Yeah,” he said.

“Well, we need to go,” Blake said.

“Convince him to go to the party tonight?” Adam asked Ethan.

“I’ll try.”

We both watched as the three wove down the steps and disappeared from view. When Ethan turned to me, I had to admit it took me an extra second to react just so I could get to look at him a moment longer.

“Right,” I finally said, shaking my head. “Your jacket.” I reached for it on the coat rack.

“No!” he protested, stopping me. “I, uh—I didn’t come for the jacket.”

“Oh. Well, come in.” I motioned him in and closed the door behind us. “Do you want something to drink?” I asked a seemingly nervous Ethan as we walked back to the living room.

“Sure,” he said, looking around.

“Is beer okay?”

“Beer is fine. So, you’re not going to Dean’s party?” he asked, wandering around the living room.

“Nah,” I said, leaning inside the fridge. “I think I’m just going to chill.”

“I see. “Do you have some incense?”

“In my bedroom. Why?”

“I don’t know what time you’re expecting your parents back, but the smell of pot is, like, really strong in here. You should pop open a window or, you know, all of them.”

“That’s all right,” I said, handing him a Bud Light. “They’re away until Monday.”

“Yeah, it may not be long enough.”

“You may be right,” I said after a beat and opened the bay window next to the piano.

“Is this you?” Ethan asked, and I assumed he was looking at the picture Sam had taken from the piano and left on the couch.

“If it’s a photo of a guy wearing white speedos and looking extremely high, then, yes. Yes, it is.”

“No, no speedo.”