Just One of the Guys

Corbin

The next afternoon, Gentry and I are sitting in our English class, our teacher just finishing explaining his expectations of the paper we have to write that's due on Friday. As soon as the teacher leaves the classroom, the entire class breaks out in conversation, going from near-silent to so loud that you have to, basically, yell to the person next to you to be heard.

"What are you going to write your paper about?" I ask as I turn around to face him.

Maybe if he tells me what he's going to do his over, it will help give me ideas on what to do.

Gentry doesn't look up, just stares blankly at the paper on his desk, no notes of anything on it.

Ducking my head to try to get a look at his face while still sitting at my desk, I ask, "Gentry? You okay man?"

Still, no response as he blindly stares lost in his own head.

Come to think of it, he's seemed to be distracted or just plain out of it a lot lately.

The first time I noticed it, was the night he just showed up in my apartment while I was in the shower, but I just brushed it off as being homesick. But then a few days later, he missed all of his classes. Missing classes is really unlike him—or at least, as far as I've seen since I've been here.

I texted him, checking in to make sure he was okay, but never got a reply. I even went to his apartment at lunch to check on him, hoping that maybe I could get him to talk to me about whatever is going on with him because something is clearly going on. But he never came to the door.

There have been a few other times that he's just seemed different, closed off.

Standing from my desk chair and taking the few steps that separate our desks, I crouch down next to him and place my hand on his shoulder. "Hey...uh...you okay?"

It takes almost a full minute before he acknowledges that I've even spoken to him, and even then, all he does is shake his head *no*, still staring at the same spot, looking completely lost. A moment later, he flinches, then folds his arms across one another and buries his face in them against his desk.

"Okay, well you know I'm here if you want to talk about whatever it is," I reassure him as my gut tells me that something is terribly wrong. I just have no clue what.

This closed-off, reclused guy who avoids eye contact isn't Gentry.

Standing up, my knees popping as I do, I go back to my desk, pencil tapping against my paper as I think about the essay and brainstorming ideas. As hard as I try, I'm unable to focus, my thoughts shifting back and forth between whatever is going on with Gentry and Knox and my situation.

We haven't so much as communicated even once, not through phone or text since the messages yesterday morning when I let him know I'd made it to my place...and chancing a glance over at Gentry again, an unsettling feeling settles in my gut but I don't know what more I can do to get him to talk to me.

As soon as the bell rings, signaling the end of school for the day, I follow him out the door.

Gentry pulls a water bottle out of his bag and takes several large gulps before recapping it and placing it back in his bag as we continue down the hall.

"Hey, Corbin..." he says just before we reach the dorms, the sound of his voice strained.

"Yeah?” I return, as I stop walking and pull him over against the wall, giving him my full attention.

He gives me a sad smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes. "You're a good friend," he says, looking down the hall instead of at me before dropping his gaze to our feet.

A whiff of alcohol on his breath hits me in the face when he burps, causing me to recoil, staring at him in disbelief. Apparently, it's not water in that water bottle.

Mind whirling with thoughts, I can't help thinking, *what in the heck is going on with him?*

I guess I can add day drinking to the list of the odd things I've noticed going on with him over the past several weeks.

"I just needed you to know that," he says, his voice so quiet I almost don't hear him say it.

The comment is random, but my stomach turns at the sound of hopelessness in his voice. It's that and the fact he can't make eye contact with me, that sends a feeling of dread washing through me.

I don't like it... I don't like it at all.

Without saying another word, Gentry turns and heads down the hall, leaving me where I stand, staring after his retreating form, completely confused, and concerned about him. I want to go after him, but I don't think he would be receptive to that right now. He's giving off major *'stay the hell away from me'* vibes.

Instead of doing what every single cell in my body is pushing me to do, I turn back towards the cafeteria. Hopefully, if it's really bad, he will come to me or someone, *anyone*, before doing something reckless.

He has so many people that care for him, I have no doubt in my mind that any one of them would be there for him at the drop of a hat if he needed it. All he would have to do is say the word.

Walking through the door to the cafeteria, the volume of the room hits me first, voices coming from every which direction, mixing together to the point that it's kind of overwhelming to be in such an enclosed space.

After I give the girl behind the counter my order, I step aside, letting the people in line behind me take their turn as I wait for my food.

As my gaze wanders from face to face, I feel the hair on the back of my neck stand on end as, by scent alone, I don't have to guess who's behind me.

The way my body responds to him when we're within close proximity is another clue, like right now as my nipples harden, the binding wrapped around my chest to hide their presence causing them to ache. As if that weren't enough, my core pulses, wetness drenching my panties as his woodsy scent surrounds me, taking me back to the things we did in his apartment on both his couch and floor.

I unsuccessfully try to suppress a moan as the memories assault me, as I'm now painfully turned on. This is the first time we've been near one another since fooling around the other night.

The girl at the counter calls my name and I hurry to grab my order, needing to get away from him before I make a fool of myself. However, luck is not on my side as he sets his tray down on the table and claims the spot right next to me.

He doesn't say anything, but I can feel his gaze on me, and it causes me to squirm. With a quick glance over at him, I immediately regret the action; he's looking at me, squinting, as though there's something about me that he can't figure out like it's right there, but still just out of reach.

The thought that he could have even the slightest inkling that something is up with me, causes dread to form in the pit of my stomach.

He can't figure it out.

The air around us is intense, not exactly uncomfortable but...*intense* is really the only word that can best describe it.

As two more trays land on the table and Colt and Wesley join us, Knox coughs then picks up his fork. Eyes shifting until I'm peering at him from the corner of my eye, I find a hint of a smirk playing on his lips before he covers it by biting the lower one, at the same time stabbing his fork into a piece of steamed broccoli.

Biting my own lip as the memory of his lips on mine assaults me, I turn toward my own food, picking at it.

Butterflies are going crazy in my stomach, making it nearly impossible to concentrate on my dinner as I steal several glances at the God sitting next to me.

The volume of the voices in the lunchroom is still head-splitting, but around the table that the four of us are at, there's nothing but silence, not counting the scraping of silverware against our plates filling the small area; it's beyond weird because our table is *never* quiet.

Could it be because Gentry isn't here? I desperately want to ask if anyone else has noticed how strange he's been acting lately, but it's not a can of worms I want to open if it's just me reading into it more than I should. With the chaos surrounding us, the silence of our group is almost maddening. Is everyone just stuck in their own heads, or too busy stuffing their faces to say anything?

Just as I'm about to break the silence and ask why everyone is so quiet, Knox stands up grabbing his plate. "You want me to take that?" he asks, nodding toward my plate.

My empty plate; the empty plate I don't even remember eating.

"Umm...I'm done anyway, so...I'll just..."

My words trail off, and standing up, I underestimate how close his proximity is to me and end up knocking into him, almost upsetting his tray.

"Shit...my bad," I exclaim.

The smirk that he suppressed earlier comes out full force as he takes my tray from me before going and putting them away: like a little puppy, I follow after him.

He waits for me just outside of the cafeteria, and when I come to a stop beside him, I glance up, biting the already shredded skin on my bottom lip as those dang butterflies swarm in my stomach again. I can only hope that they don't cause my dinner to come back for a second round.

The silence that had encompassed the table, seems to have made its way to the hallway with us as we walk through the hall, that is, until Knox breaks it.

"There's another party over in Berkshire, you planning on going?" he questions.

He turns to look at me, waiting for my reply. Honestly, I don't see what harm going to the party could cause. Not like I'm going to go as Averi, not with how everything is so *ugh* between him and me right now, a making of my own doing. *Trust me, I know.*

Add to it the odd and entirely too real dreams that I've been having, have put me on edge, and it's just not something that I'm willing to risk.

"Sure, why not?" I say, shrugging.

"I, and the guys are planning on having a little pre-party in my apartment before we leave, you should stop by," he suggests.

Heat rushes throughout my whole body at the thought of being in his apartment again. Memories of the last few times I've been there assault me all over again, and my heart beats erratically, as my response gets lodged in my throat. After a few seconds, I respond with a nod of agreement, not trusting what may come out of my mouth, or if I'd even be able to speak.

"Cool, see ya then," he says, turning around and walking backward as he waves goodbye before heading on toward his place.