“Die, jackass, die!”

A round of gunfire echoed around my living room that Friday night. Quinton and I were sprawled across my mother’s white leather sofas. Keegan sat cross-legged in front of the TV, eyes glued to the screen and bellowing in victory every time he blew the head off another monster in the game. Quinton was laughing as he watched Keegan slaughter a group of zombies. I laid on my back, scrolling casually through my phone.

The end of the had week come fast. Soccer practice didn’t run on Friday so Keegan, Quinton and I had hightailed it home separately to shower and change before meeting up for dinner in town.

A never-ending stream of notifications set my phone off the entire meal. People from school were messaging me about wanting to get together tonight. Our team’s text chain had blown up an hour ago about who could break into their parent’s liquor cabinet. Between half the team, there would be a decent haul, but I was yet to respond to any of them.

“Die, you evil bloodsucking zombie!” Keegan shouted, rotting a few more of his brain cells as he slammed on the controller.

“Uh, Keegan?” I paused my scrolling to turn my head toward him. “Zombies don’t drink blood. They eat flesh.”

Quinton snorted out a laugh as Keegan paused the game. He turned and pointed his controller at me. “Not the time for your condescending wisdom, Anderson. Let me shoot these fuckers in peace.”

“I don’t know. They could be vampire-zombie hybrids?” Quinton said thoughtfully.

“Aha!” Keegan cried. “See?”

I raised an eyebrow at him. “Why would there be vampires in an apocalypse?”

“Why would there be zombies?”

“Because biochemical warfare? It’s a plausible scenario. The walking undead are not.”

Keegan scoffed. “Just because you can’t kick ass for all eternity, doesn’t mean you get to bring down those who can.”

I eyed the zombies on screen, noting the absence of red eyes and fangs. “Pretty sure they’re not vampires, either.”

“Not yet.”

I rolled my eyes then laughed as Keegan hit Resume on the game.

Quinton looked over to me, eyes flicking a glance at my phone. “Let me guess, half the volleyball team is waiting on your doorstep right now?”

I shrugged. “More like every sport Ridgemount offers. Even the Chemistry Club and something called the Neoclassical Literature Society is texting me. Did you know we had one of those? I haven’t responded to anyone yet.”

“You going to?”

“Doubt it. Last thing I need is a bunch of Antonio Canova enthusiasts showing up on my doorstep. Can you imagine how they’d sound drunk?”

Keegan snorted from the floor. “Running your hands through someone’s hair while quoting Shakespeare is not a turn on.”

“Shakespeare is not from the Neoclassical period.”

“Dakota,” Quinton swung his legs onto the ground and sat up. “You’re allowed to say no to people just because you want to. No one expects you to be perfect.”

I swallowed down my response. That wasn’t what Dad or anyone at school thought.

Instead, I went with, “It doesn’t matter.” My phone chimed and I looked down at it before replying, “Besides, apparently Brady’s house is going off. His parents are out of town for some seminar. Angela from science keeps texting me to join.”

“Do you want to?”

“Maybe. I don’t know yet.”

Quinton sighed, and I knew he was getting ready to deliver one of his speeches in all of his infinite wisdom. Out of the three of us, he’d always been the most grounded.

“Nobody’s going to crucify you for choosing a night in for once over crashing some tenth-grader’s party.” Quinton said. “Just tell them no, if that’s what you want.”

My phone trembled restlessly in my hand. It vibrated three times before I answered. “I don’t care about that stuff.”

“Yeah, you do,” Quinton said softly, “but you don’t need to, man. If it’s not something you want, just walk away.”

Oh, if only it were that simple.

Miraculously hearing our conversation over the sound of a chainsaw, Keegan said, “He’s just worked up cause he’s not getting laid tonight.” He turned back to look at me seriously. “No matter how nicely you ask. Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for the gay, yeah, but no homo?”

Quinton groaned as I laughed. “Bi, Keegs. Not gay.”

“I know that.” Keegan said, then he smirked. “So, double the chance of not getting laid tonight.”

I wiggled my phone in his direction. “I have at least four texts from these past two minutes alone.”

“That’s because you’re easy.”

I scoffed. “I am not easy.”

“Do you have another word for someone who succumbs to sex easily?”

“Whore?” Quinton offered.

“Guys!” I exclaimed. “I am not a whore!”

“Hey, no shame, man.” Keegan held up his hands, the controller still clutched in his left. His character was mauled by a zombie onscreen behind him. “I’m cool with the dude on dude action, but just don’t skimp out on the pamphlets the nurse was giving out for STI’s, okay? You never know what you’ll catch doing the back-alley nasty like some common street wh-“

He squawked when a cushion smacked him in the face.

“I wear condoms, idiot!” I proclaimed. “And I don’t do it in back alleys!”

“Good for you. Proud of you, dude.”

“Oh my god.” I covered my eyes with my arm. “What the hell?”

“I’m just a supporter of your sexual health.” Keegan shrugged. “I mean, we’ve shared a bed so…”

Quinton sounded like he was choking beside me. “That is not how you transmit an STI.”

Before I could say anything to that, my phone chimed again in my lap. I lifted my arm and peered at the screen before scoffing. “Great, now I’m getting messages from people I don’t even know. Who even is Sarah Bradshaw?”

“Oh,” Quinton made a noise of familiarity. “I think she goes to Northshore.”

Keegan frowned. “Wasn’t she the one whose party got busted by cops last year when someone smoked weed on the front lawn?”

I snorted. “That sounds about right.”

Between all the schools in the district, it was so typical to hear of someone at Northshore getting busted for something as stupid as drug possession. Ridgemount cracked down hard on their students for a wrinkled blazer, so anything worse was definitely out of the question. Other schools in the area either didn’t monitor their students that closely or left it to the police.

Northshore wasn’t far down from Ridgemount reputation-wise, but it certainly was no measure of respectable students. I was surprised Connor hadn’t been pulled into its antics at least once after all these years but he also wasn’t the type of person to be involved in that type of situation.

“Speaking of Northshore,” Keegan had finally called it quits on his game and was now leaning against the sofa, arms folded over the cushion beside me. “How’s the feud going?”

My hand stilled from where it had been scrolling through my phone. I’d never been ashamed of my sexuality but any chance of my friends knowing about mine and Connor’s real relationship was out of the question. I’d promised Connor.

I went back to scrolling through my Instagram feed. “He’s still a jackass. I’m still better than him. Simple as that.”

“Isn’t it exhausting?” Quinton asked. “You guys have been involved in this all-out war since we were kids. Aren’t you sick of it by now?”

A short laugh escaped my mouth. “You can never get sick of beating an arrogant jerk like Connor Taylor.”

“Just because he’s Captain of another team?”

I sighed. Judging from the looks on my friends faces, this was a conversation they’d been trying to have with me for a while.

Sitting up, I swung my legs around and placed them on the floor. “It’s not just that. You’ve seen what he’s like on the field! He’s arrogant and outspoken and runs his mouth off every second. Not to mention, he sulks like a child every time they lose a game. You’re telling me you wouldn’t want to put a guy like that in his place?”

Keegan and Quinton exchanged a look I couldn’t decipher.

Quinton said, “Maybe, but we’re all like that, Dakota. None of us like losing. Everyone runs their mouth in a game situation.”

“No one like him.” I growled. “He never learns when to shut up.”

“Neither do you.” Keegan laughed, not unkindly. “You’re the first to goad him into a reaction.”

At the look I shot him, he was quick to add, “Not that it’s a bad thing! You just seem to get really hung up on antagonising someone who isn’t even that bad. I mean, Oakland’s Captain is terrifying, in my opinion. Guy’s like a freaking tank.”

“You don’t seriously think Peter Doherty has anything on that asshole?” I asked in disbelief. “I swear he was raised by a family of rocks considering all he does on the field is grunt.”

Keegan barked out a laugh but Quinton only shook his head. “We’re just saying, man. You might want to think about starting to move past whatever’s going on between you and Taylor. We graduate this year. Are you really going to carry this into your twenties? Hell, your thirties? You guys won’t ever have to see each other again after this year.”

I collapsed back on the couch. “And thank God for that.”  

Realising the conversation had run its course, Keegan resumed his game with Quinton offering commentary every few moments. I went back to scrolling through Instagram, ignoring the way my heart had kicked up pace in my chest at the thought of never seeing Connor again.

If I was lucky, the satisfaction of finally beating him would be enough to squash the other feelings rising beneath my skin.