Ryan
On Tuesday night Ryan arrived back at the apartment to find Charlie sitting on the kitchen counter with a notebook and pen in hand. "Monster energy drinks?" they asked Harper, who was surrounded by grocery bags.
"Check," said Harper.
"Candy?"
"Check."
"Both sour candies AND chocolate?" Charlie verified.
"Sour patch kids, sour gummy worms, M&Ms, and Reese's Peanut Butter Cups," Harper said, pulling out each kind of candy and making a pile.
Ryan set his grocery bags down on the counter alongside the smorgasbord of caffeine and sugar. "I got ground coffee from Starbucks." He set a container down beside Charlie. "And that flavored creamer you like."
Charlie smiled at him so shyly and sweetly that Ryan's heart twisted. It suddenly reminded him of the day he had first said to Jacky I like you – a smile from someone who had almost forgotten how. Stop thinking about Jacky, he scolded himself.
Now that he'd made the connection, he couldn't stop thinking about Jacky every time he looked at Charlie. He liked Charlie, he really did. He shrugged his shoulders, like he could shrug Jacky out of his head. "And I got granola bars, for energy," Ryan continued.
"Health food," Harper muttered.
Sam came out of her room with her phone and phone charger in hand. "I made three different study playlists. One for focus, and one that's more upbeat for that four a.m. slump, and another that's all instrument movie soundtracks—"
"No one wants to listen to the Interstellar soundtrack," Harper interrupted.
"Hans Zimmer is a genius," Sam snapped back.
"What about John Carpenter, huh? Or Jerry Goldsmith?"
Ryan had no idea who any of these people were, so he busied himself with getting a pot of coffee started.
"We are not listening to horror movie soundtracks all night," Sam said. "This is why I was chosen as DJ and you were chosen to get snacks."
It was a good thing Ryan had his own noise-cancelling headphones, because he wasn't sure he'd be able to focus on writing the ten-page essay for English 101 that was due tomorrow. He'd spent so much time focusing on keeping up in his Organic Chemistry and Physics classes that the due date for the paper had crept up on him. Luckily – or maybe not – he wasn't the only one with an impending deadline, and the roommates had quickly organized an all-nighter party.
"I've got the alarms set for breaks at 11, 2, and 5," Jordan said. "Fifteen minutes each. The nerf guns are locked and loaded."
"Nerf guns?" Ryan asked.
Sam demonstrated a bob and weave. "You've gotta get up and move to keep yourself alert. It's just for during breaks. The rest of the time, nose to the grindstone."
"What does that even mean, nose to the grindstone?" Charlie asked. "That sounds painful."
"It comes from sharpening tools on a grindstone," Jordan explained. "Like you would sharpen your mind by studying."
Charlie nodded as if they were assessing Jordan. "I bet you'd be good on Trivia Night."
"So when do we get started?" Ryan asked.
The doorbell rang, and Sam headed to the door. "After pizza."
Ryan was starting to get sick of pizza. He'd even had to switch up his traditional pepperoni and start ordering pizza supremes, which had a few veggies to offset everything else. Which reminded him about his dinner plans with Monica this weekend. Please can we go to a real restaurant on Saturday? he texted her. He was looking forward to hanging out with her. He hoped he could talk to her about Charlie and Jacky and the confusion he was feeling.
Like Olive Garden? she texted back.
Close enough. Plus they had endless breadsticks and salad. Sounds good to me!
Once they'd all eaten, Ryan brought out his laptop and headphones. He would probably focus better in his room, but it didn't seem like much of a study party if he was in there. He chose one of the stools at the island counter, even though he had to move most of the snacks and the leftover pizza onto the other counter to get enough space for his notes.
Charlie hopped up on the stool beside his and pulled out a massive textbook. "Is it okay if I sit here?" they asked.
"Yeah, of course," Ryan said quickly, flashing a smile. He toyed with the headphones for a moment. Sam hadn't started her playlist yet, so he wasn't sure if he would need the headphones to focus. He took a breath and opened a blank Google Doc. First step: writing a thesis statement.
His phone buzzed in his pocket.
I just realized you didn't get home-cooked food last weekend, Monica had written. You are definitely coming home with me for Thanksgiving.
Mrs. Johnston, Monica's mother, was an excellent cook. I'd love to, Ryan wrote back.
Ryan put his phone away and refused to pull it out again when it immediately buzzed. Monica could text for hours if he let her. But if he didn't respond, she would stop. He pulled out his notes and looked them over, then he started typing. "In The Dubliners, James Joyce uses the short story form to explore themes of paralysis, identity, and the search for meaning in the lives of ordinary people living in Dublin, ultimately revealing the limitations of their society and the human condition."
Then he started writing his outline, with headings for paralysis, identity, and search for meaning and supporting quotes and statements under each one. There was another section for Irish society at the turn of the century and one more for universal truths about the human condition. He barely heard when Sam started up her focus playlist; he was already deep in concentration.
Before he knew it, Jordan's alarm went off.
Ryan surfaced from his workflow like a swimmer coming up for air. "It's eleven already?"
He was answered by a volley of Nerf darts.
Thinking fast, he checked to make sure his Doc was saved, then shut his laptop. A Nerf gun had been placed near at hand – he hadn't even noticed – and soon he was embroiled in the all-out war in the apartment.
When, fifteen minutes later, Jordan's alarm went off again to signal the end of break, Ryan was breathing hard and slumped behind the TV. The cushions were scattered across the floor, with Harper and Charlie behind the armchair, turned around backwards. "Truce," Sam called from behind the kitchen island. "Until 2 a.m."
They emerged from their hiding places and reset their workspaces, refilled their coffees, and replenished their snacks. Ryan had sat down and opened his laptop when he realized something felt different. His hand went to his empty back pocket, then he stood and looked around the room.
"What's up?" Charlie asked, pulling out one earbud. Apparently they were tired of the Interstellar soundtrack already.
"Have you seen my phone?"
"Oh, is this yours?" Jordan asked from across the room.
She tossed it, and Ryan sucked in a breath. His phone screen was already cracked. He leapt across Charlie to snatch it out of the air.
"Nice reflexes," Sam said appreciatively.
The phone vibrated slightly, reminding him that he had a new text message. But he was distracted by Charlie's body up against his. "Sorry," he whispered.
"S'okay," Charlie whispered back.
Ryan set his phone facedown on the counter and decided his own music was what he needed now. Headphones on, and he was back in his own little world.
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Who do you think is texting Ryan?