“Oh, dude, there’s nothin’ to worry about. Kristin and I are totally platonic,” Ian says.

“I’m sure Lisa believes you, too,” comes Travis’ sarcastic reply.

“Yeah, well,” Ian says, rolling his eyes. “What’re you guys doin’ tomorrow?” he asks Collin and Steve, changing the subject as they get to the top of the stairs.

The two shrug.

“Come to John’s band’s show tomorrow night.”

“Right on.” Collin says. “Who’re you playin’ with?”

“Homespun Noose,” John replies.

“Cool.”

Steve interjects, “You should play at the ‘ouse.”

“Yeah?” John asks.

“Hell, we’ll pay ya’,” Collin offers.

“Damn. I think we can work that,” John replies.

Collin playfully hits John in the chest, “That, and give you all the liquor you can drink.”

John just laughs, “That cannot be my only pay.”

“You too,” Collin says to Travis as he comes to the top of the stairs.

“What?” Travis asks.

They all walk into Ian’s room and sit down as Travis opens up all the windows. “Play at the house,” Collin offers.

“Ah,” Travis says, dismissing it. “It’s not house-party stuff.”

“So?” Collin replies. “Just chill out and play in the front room. Shit, no one’ll mind if it’s not loud.”

Shrugging, Travis replies, “All right.”

“And it wouldn’t kill you to play some Dave Matthews covers,” Collin adds.

“Or Tears for Fear.”

“Or maybe not.”

“Yeah.”

Sitting in an arm chair between the couches, opposite the door, Ian says, “You guys really should. It’d be a great way to get your names around town.”

John and Travis both nod.

Excited, Collin adds, “You guys play and Ian’ll, like, take photos and shit, and Nick can paint somethin’ weird.” Then a little sullenly, he adds, “I’ll just sit there and point and laugh or somethin’. I can’t do shit.”

“That’s not true,” Travis argues.

“Naw. Like, someday I’ll write a book about all this shit. It’ll be fucked up like Vonnegut or somethin’.”

“You like Vonnegut?” John asks.

“Dude, his shit’s hilarious. Have you ever read Breakfast of Champions?”

John shakes his head.

“Like, there’s this part where the main guy is tryin’ to explain what an asshole is, and there’s just this star on the page that he drew, and it says, like, ‘this is an asshole’.”

“I remember that part,” says Travis, chuckling.

“Have you read it?” Collin asks.

“A while ago. I’m not big on Vonnegut, though.”

“Fuck you. You’re like all intellectual and shit. Your songs are all, like, deep and shit,” Collin says, smiling. “Intelligentsia—that’s what you are, fucker.”

Travis laughs in agreement, drinking his Jungle Juice.

“Naw,” Collin continues, “it’s good. I jus’ didn’t get it. I had to get Jamie to explain it to me.”

Travis just laughs again. Collin was kidding. Chances were, Collin was as or more literate than anyone in the room, but he played it off like he wasn’t.

“You need to get some girls,” Steve says to John, meaning John’s band. “You got any groupies, yet?”

“Just my girlfriend and Eric’s; and mine’s not really that much of a groupie,” John says.

“You guys play and we’ll invite the DZ’s over or somethin’. They’ll be fuckin’ you on stage and shit,” Collin added. “Buncha’ whores.”

“Really?” Travis asks. The DZ’s lived in the house next door.

“Dude,” Ian says, sitting up, “I was drivin’ up here, and a bunch of ’em were yelling out the window at me and Derek. What’s up with that?”

“Aw, like, Noles and Copper were out on the beach a week ago, throwin’ shit at their house and yellin’ at ’em,” Collin replies. “The Beach” was the south porch roof on the house, facing the DZ’s house.

“Damn, man, they were yellin’ some lewd shit at us,” Ian says, “I wonder what the hell Noles and Copper said?”

“Who knows,” Collin replies, snorting. “Prob’ly called ’em whores. They gotta’ get all upset like they ain’t what they are.”

Everybody laughs at this.

“Are they really that bad?” Travis asks.

“Not ta’ us,” Collin replies. “They just hate us, but I’ve heard shit.”

“Yeah,” Ian says, some of my friends over in Sigma Delta said they get raunchy at some of their socials.”

“What a horrible, horrible thing,” Travis says, feigning indignation.

“Oh, I don’ give a shit what they do,” answers Collin, “They just need ta be doin’ it ta us.”

“That’s the crux of the problem,” adds Ian.

Read the whole thread: Unthreaded

Characters and Places: Athens, Homespun Noose, Ian Fleming, John Riffing, Nick Vaughn, TKE House, Travis Fleeting