chapter two

The morning after a brazen display of collegiate hedonism is just as important— if not as important— as the night-of.

In this city, there’s only a couple places that serve “bottomless brunch”— and you had better believe I regularly brought my flock to graze.

This particular morning, I had Chris, my fratty fatty roommate, his girlfriend Lanae, and the worse-for-the-wear Shadarra. She had crashed on our couch after loudly declaring to the nearly-empty house that she was “too high to leg it tonight.” She passed out before anyone could argue with her, and I made sure she had a blanket and a pillow before I started cleaning up. Some people hate cleaning up, but I revel in it.

Every can and bottle I collect, every crumb and crust I sweep up, all just points on the night’s caloric scoreboard. A high score, if I was any judge of it. The jungle juice was completely drained, hardly any beer left in the fridge, and the snack table looked like it had been licked clean. (Thank you, Haley)

Our other roommate, Landon, was supposed to come with us, but was instead relieving last night’s indulgence into the upstairs toilet. It always irks me when my hard work is undone, but Landon has a penchant for hard liquor and embarrassing himself. Thus, we all sat at an impromptu double date of sorts.

“Do you really need two omelettes, babe?” Lanae didn’t even look up from her phone as she lobbed her criticism over. “I thought we agreed to cut back when we went out.”

Essentially a supermodel with a crooked nose, Lanae had paired up nicely with the charismatic hayseed Chris sophomore year— but the two seemed to have grown apart. I’d say about a hundred and fifty pounds apart. Chris had inflated while Lanae remained a scarecrow.

“Babe, if you were at The Barn last night, you’d know I need a little extra to sop everything up.”

Lanae winced at the mention of our apartment’s nickname, then winced again at Chris’s use of the word ‘sop’. Lanae had her own sorority festivities to attend most nights. And when she didn’t, there was always some other excuse to not join her beau at The Barn.

“Mhm.” Lanae shot a sharp exhale through her nose.

Before I could take a stab at breaking the resulting silence, Shadarra spoke up:
“Yeah, it was pretty nuts last night. I’m starving.”

I tilted my head. “Are you really?”

She nodded. “Oh yeah. I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”
— Which was a curious thing to say, she looked like she had eaten for several days straight. Not only did she have a slight bulge pressing against the bottom of the black tank top she slept in, I personally watched as she mindless munched through three quarters of a veggie pizza before she passed out.

But I’m not a disagreeable person.
“Me too. Have you ever had this place’s bottomless brunch?”

Shadarra’s eyes widened.
“Bottomless brunch?!”

My smile remained kind, held back from the Cheshire-cat grin it wanted to curl into.
“Yeah, just fifteen dollars and they keep it coming.”

Lanae set her phone down and looked sharply at Chris.
“We—”, a deliberate pause, “Are just getting a normal brunch.”

Chris took her hand.
“She—”, returning the gesture, “Is getting a normal brunch,” and likewise smiling at Shadarra, “but I’m a bottomless guy.”

The three of us laughed while Lanae returned to her phone with a fervor.

Eggs, bacon, and toast for me.

Two omelettes for Chris.

Waffles and fruit for Shadarra.

Avocado toast for Lanae.

A small yogurt for me.

Biscuits and gravy for Chris.

Pancakes and cheese grits for Shadarra.

A refill of water for Lanae.

Nothing more for me, thanks.

Chicken and waffles for Shadarra.

Another order of waffles and fruit for Shadarra, this time with whipped cream.

A bitter bloody mary for Lanae.

Even with our waitress constantly removing used plates, our table still looked like a battlefield when the check came around.

Bloody gashes of ketchup flung from Chris’s fork—

A grapeshot of whipped cream from the can that they left for Shadarra—

A forensic pool of syrup left behind for detectives to peer over and deduce what on earth had happened here—

I put it all on my card, saying they could pay me back on their phones or sometime later. Shadarra and Lanae sent me a Venmo immediately, and Chris I didn’t worry about. He always put in his work, even if it cost me a buck or two.

It was well worth it to see two out of three of my guests leaning back at an almost forty-five degree angle, guts distended and hangovers mended. Chris always found his bottom at his bottomless pit, though it was always expanding.

“Man, I’m stuffed”, I lied, attempting to prompt some fun conversation.

Chris did a poor job of stifling a belch.
“Seconded.”

Lanae glared at Chris’s protruding paunch.
“Thanks for brunch, Jason, but Chris and I need to get going.”

Chris’s brow furrowed slightly.
“We do?”

There was a short, horrible silence. Lanae grew very still.
“My sister’s baby shower.”

“Oh. Yeah?”

Another, equally uncomfortable silence.Then Lanae stood up very quickly, and grabbed Chris by the too-small tee.
“Good to see you, Jason, nice to meet you, Shadarra.”

I could tell Chris was too bloated to move as quickly as Lanae was dragging him, but he was powerless. That woman could move mountains if it forgot a part of her schedule. Shadarra and I were left behind. She gave a slow exhale.

“Are they . . . okay?”

I shrugged.

“I honestly don’t know. They’ve been like this for a while.”

“Well, that’s one thing I don’t have to worry about anymore.”

I had completely forgotten about Shadarra’s very recent breakup.

“Oh . . . yeah. I guess not.” She seemed to withdraw a little. “. . . How are you feeling?”

She stared at her crumpled-up napkin on the table.

“I don’t know. Better? Worse? Stuffed?”

I smiled— a little further from friendly.

“Then definitely better.”

She chuckled.

“I’m a single lady in the city now, I need to watch my figure—” She stood up with a grunt, then patted her belly. “Gotta lose this relationship weight.”

It took all my effort to appear disinterested. Enabling only works when you’re at least an arms length away.

“Sure—” I intoned, devoid of meaning, and stood up as well. “Need a ride back to your place?”

“Nah, I’m actually just right around the corner. I didn’t even know this place existed.”

“Well, now you know.”

“Yeah, I’m definitely gonna take advantage of this bottomless brunch.”

Good, I thought.

“Good”, I said.
“I mean, it’s pretty great, right?” A quick save.

“For sure.” She gave a brief, bloated sigh. “See you later?”

“Yeah. If you need anything— place to crash, ear to bend . . .”

“I’ll let you know.” She gestured around the restaurant. “Wanna do next week, at least?”

My smile was playful.

“Absolutely.”

She returned the smile and exited, moving slowly.

I sat, drinking my water, and taking stock of this development.

Well. I’m pretty sure she’s gay, but that doesn’t mean I can’t leave my mark, right? I mean, I haven’t slept with someone since . . .

My mind trailed off.

Oh, Jesus, it’s been a while, hasn’t it? I’ve been too busy playing farmhand.

I took out my phone to see who I might invite on a date.

Not that I regret the work I’ve put in, I just hate to be out of practice. Now . . . who was at the party that was ripe?

But before I could start perusing my contacts, a notification pinged in.

“Hey, you should come to this show at the Beetle tonight. I can get u on the list. Me and Brit will be there.”

. . . Haley?

I know she’s had a thing for me, but the only thing I really found attractive in her was her reckless consumption, and her proximity to the Michelin Woman-of-the-year.

This would be a great opportunity to try to get close to Brittney, I suppose . . .

I typed back—

“What time?”