Finn's POV:

I'm glad I got the chance to have a proper talk with my roommate, and he seems pretty chill so far. Real nice guy, and fun to tease, too. His face turns red at anything. Pretty funny stuff. But I figure I should stop bringing up the poems for a bit. Seems like he's really got his mind made up about that stuff, unlike seemingly everything else he thinks about. But, at this point, I'm not really sure what we can talk about. I don't know anything else about him, and he sure doesn't know anything about me. Well, right now, at least. I hope I can get to know him a little better. He is my roommate, after all... I can probably get to know him a lot easier than I could have if he wasn't.

When we got to the dorm that was hosting the party, it was Eric's turn to hold the door open. He grinned crookedly at me, like he was teasing me somehow, and I can't say it wasn't entertaining. The dorm was practically shaking from the loud music and screaming. Anyone could tell that Eric was visibly uncomfortable.

"What would you say about sticking together while I find my friends? I know you don't wanna be here long." I ask.

He looks so relieved it's almost funny. He takes a breath, like he's trying to control his breathing. I jokingly extend my arm to him.

"Sir, may I escort you into the venue?" I say with mock refinement. To my surprise, he takes my arm. Maybe it wasn't a great idea to bring him to this party, after all. I hope he doesn't have a panic attack. While it would be a pain to deal with, I'm also surprisingly worried about him. He seems like a really cool dude, so I don't want him to get hurt and all. His breathing still seems pretty shaky.

"Thanks." He says, linking arms awkwardly with me.

"No prob. Don't want you shaking so hard you fall over." I nudge his arm with my own. Thankfully, he seems to find humor in this, and his shaking momentarily ceases.

"Luckily," I start, "I know the best way to get rid of nerves. You are twenty-one, right?" I make a vague gesture to a table with drinks on it. Five bucks, all of them are alcoholic.

"Y-yeah, I am. Why?" He asks, even though he must know the answer.

"What about a couple of drinks, just to calm you down a little?" I suggest. Then, I quickly add, "Only if you want to, though. Don't worry. I won't force you to drink."

"Just one drink sounds fine... I was planning on having one anyway. I can never survive parties without them."

I nod, and begin to walk in the direction of the table, arms still linked with his. I glance at the drinks on the table, looking into the cups, trying to figure out what they are, before deciding on something that looked like some brand-name beer I couldn't seem to remember. I pick up two and offer one to Eric. He takes it gratefully.

"Thanks," he says.

"Anyti-" I begin to say, before someone almost knocks us over with the force of a small tornado.

"Yo, Finn!"

I turn around to see my friend Al, who's obviously already drunk quite a lot.

"Hey, Al. Knew I'd see you around here sometime. This is my new roomie, Eric."

"Dope," Al says, slurring his words a little. "Nice to meet you, man."

He extends his hand in a way that suggests he can't decide between a high-five or a handshake. Predictably, Eric opts for a handshake.

"Hi. I'm- wait, you already know that. Um. Nice to meet you?" Eric is obviously still struggling to uphold a conversation. I decide that, although this is hilarious, I should probably say something. I lean down to whisper in Eric's ear.

"Yo, now that he's seen us and knows we're here, I think we're good to bounce. No point in staying any longer now, y'know?"

"We... can stay longer if you want. I don't mind. Just... let me finish this drink first."

To my surprise, Eric absolutely downs the rest of the drink I gave him. It only then occurred to me to wonder what his alcohol tolerance was. He seemed pretty lightweight, so maybe I should've been a little more careful about what I was giving him. Whatever. No turning back now. I guess we should stay a little longer, considering he drank that just so he could tolerate staying.

I finish my drink and return to the table for another. My tolerance isn't so low that one drink could get me drunk.

"Yo, Al," I start, "What'd you even drink to get so smashed, man? I want me one of those."

"Good choice, man. What's a party without drinks?"

It also occurs to me that perhaps getting drunk at this particular party would not be to my advantage, but, hey, Eric should be fine, and he'll remember the way back, I think.

Al hands me one of the drinks he had, and it smells just as strong as he described it.

"Come on, man. Don't be a wuss. Drink it, dude!" Al cheers. I just hope it isn't spiked. Here we go.

It tastes terrible, but what was I expecting? It seems like it's more alcohol than anything else, too. It's basically what you might imagine drinking bleach might feel like. Al nods approvingly.

"I knew you would do it, man. You're a cool guy, you know that?" He leans forward to whisper, rather loudly, over the noise of the party, "And you know what cool guys do? They give their friends their cute new roommate's number."

"Ugh, gross, man. Get yourself some self-respect. While you're at it, look for some dignity, too." I roll my eyes and walk away. My head is starting to spin. Where's Eric? I swear he was with me a few minutes ago. I look around the wild party, and my head won't stop spinning. What was even in that drink? I need to go sit down. I'm walking through the party, looking for a spot to sit down and not get trampled, when I spot Eric sitting on the floor, glancing nervously up at the people mingling loudly.

"Eric!"

He looks around frantically. His eyes land on me, and relief washes over his (really cute?) face. Wait, what? I try to remember what I was just thinking about, but I can't. Whatever, I have to get us home before something happens at this party.

I walk over to where Eric is sitting on the floor.

"I'm done here. Are you ready to leave?" I extend my hand to help him up.

"Definitely. This place is... not for me." Eric takes my hand and I hoist him up from the ground. He stumbles as he stands, which is worrying.

"Eric, did you have any more drinks while I was gone?"

"I had... one more. The same kind you gave me at the beginning... of the party." He touches his head. "I think."

That's... not great. Nothing like two college boys wandering the campus drunk.

"...Alright. Then we should definitely leave. I had more to drink, too, and we don't need to carry on the freshman party tradition."

I lead him to the exit of the dorm, trying to regain my own composure. I can't be drunk. I don't get drunk, anyways. So, I guess I'm not. That's it. I just have a horrible headache from the loud party. I grab Eric's hand and drag him out the door faster. I don't want to be here any longer than necessary.

When we're finally out of the party, my headache is worse than before. That doesn't make sense. It's quieter out here. Am I just stressed out? It's a possibility.

Eric's POV:

My new roommate just dragged me out of a party. Did something happen? Why are we leaving so soon? Not that I didn't want to leave, I really, really did, but I thought he'd stay a little longer. My head is killing me. How much did I have to drink? Probably more than I should have, that being zero. I can never hold my liquor, so why did I even try? My head hurts so much. Maybe it would be easier to stop... thinking for a minute. But why should I stop thinking, when there's SO MUCH to think about?

Finn seems very determined to get us back to our dorm at what seems to be the speed of light. He's holding onto my hand so tightly that I'm a little scared to ask why. Something about this situation is making my heart beat much faster, and I'm not exactly sure what it is. Well, putting it that way, I'm not exactly sure of anything right now. I should make a note when we get back that it isn't necessary for me to drink alcohol... ever. But... maybe I should enjoy one night of recklessness, just this once.

Walking back to the dorm, it seems harder and harder to walk straight. I am well aware that I'm drunk, which is odd, but my awareness isn't helping whatsoever. It might even be making it worse. I have no reasoning for this theory, so it probably won't be proven to be correct, so-wow I sound like a total nerd. Makes sense, since I am one, but who would ever wanna talk to me? Maybe I should try to make some kind of "interesting" conversation. What do people enjoy talking about? Most people I see gossiping are talking about romance. Sure, I can talk about that.

"Finn." I tug on his sleeve to get his attention, and he stops.

"Hm?" he asks, turning to face me.

"Have you ever had a girlfriend? Or maybe a boyfriend?" Was that weird to ask? That might have been weird to ask, but Finn seems to be giving it some thought.

"I... yeah? A couple here and there in high school. Have you?"

"Oh..." I start. "I mean... in middle school, maybe? But that doesn't really count. It was also before I realized I liked boys."

Finn looks a little shocked at this. Did I say another thing I shouldn't have? Was it about me liking boys? Is that weird? Does he not want to live with me now? Maybe that is weird. My train of thought was broken off by him shrugging his shoulders.

"Alright. Didn't know you swing that way, bro. Mad respect for just coming out with it though. Personally, gender is kinda irrelevant to me. Personality guy over here." He gestures to himself.

That's actually a huge relief for me.

"Oh nooo," I joke sarcastically. "My least favorite kind of guy! Maybe one day I'll actually have to find myself a personality somewhere!"

Finn bumps my shoulder, and it almost sends me into the wall beside us.

"Don't worry too much," he starts with a reassuring tone. "Far as I've seen, your personality seems great. Find yourself a nice guy, yeah?"

I laugh. "That isn't the problem! I find plenty of nice guys, but they're having a hard time finding me!"

Finn laughs, too. It's been a while since someone laughed at my jokes. It's been a while since I had a conversation this long in real life, too. It's more fun than I remembered.

Maybe it was the drink, and maybe it was the fact that I'm completely and utterly delusional, something seemed to change in the air. Everything seemed very, very quiet. I'm not sure if Finn felt it, too, or if I really was delusional, because it felt like maybe... love? Now, I'm not quite experienced enough to be a trustworthy judge of this, but I've never really felt like this before. My chest got tight, and I got that same feeling that I get trying to complete an assignment fifteen minutes before the due date. Or maybe running a marathon that you haven't trained for. Or... both at the same time? Whatever it is, I think I hate it. I think I do... but something about it makes me think again. This moment... I think I might remember it forever.

I might have been staring a little, but I'm not exactly sure, because it seems to me like Finn's the one who can't seem to look away. Maybe I really am delusional! There's only one way to find out, I guess, but that "one way" is way too reckless for me. I'd rather harbor... whatever this feeling is, forever, rather than ruin a perfectly fine relationship by assuming things, or confessing other things. If there's anything to confess.

I don't think I've ever been in "love" before. Whenever I was younger, maybe middle school, I went out with girls just because I didn't know how to say no. Or sometimes the girls would ask me out and not mean it. Now that didn't make any sense to me. What kind of cruel prank plays with people's heartstrings like that? Or... they were supposed to, but honestly, I didn't feel anything for any of those girls. I used to think there was something wrong with me, and maybe there is, but it wasn't that at all. I just... didn't like girls in general. Girls scared me, to be honest. They played mean tricks on me, and hit me, and nothing about them seemed alluring whatsoever. Maybe it was because they acted like that around me, but I could have preferred men either way, even if they hadn't acted like that.

Anyway, Finn didn't seem like he liked guys, but he'd already said that he didn't really have a preference either way. His view is honestly respectable. Personality is the most important thing about a person, and definitely the most important when addressing romance. But... just because he could potentially like boys doesn't mean he'd like me. I always try to expect the worst, considering my past luck (a.k.a. none) in romance. You miss every shot you don't take, but taking the shot doesn't guarantee you score, either.