preview of seven, in which sam is a dorky, hopeless cad, pining for his lesbian
Even in college, they’d mostly steered clear of the Uptown bars after the first couple of months. Alice had felt ill-equipped to handle the drunken advances of sweaty Tulane frat guys, and Sam couldn’t bear seeing that flash of panic that would dart across her eyes, especially not once he knew what it really was.
She’d been convinced it was because of the band, that if it weren’t for the stage and the lights and the guitar slung across her body (“obscuring her problematic torso,” as she said), she could have escaped their unwanted notice. He hadn’t had the heart to tell her how ridiculous that theory was, that boys looked at her because she was a girl, and a pretty one at that. But even if he had said it, he knew it wouldn’t have mattered. She wouldn’t have believed it, for one thing, and even if she had, she’d just have rolled her eyes and pretended not to.
It was easier just to move their gig out into the other neighborhoods, though it hadn’t come without a cost. Leaving the college bars behind also meant leaving behind the supply of glassy-eyed and eager coeds who’d fall so conveniently into his lap from time to time. It was all for the best anyway, or so he told himself. At least his conquests in other corridors of the city felt earned, even if they weren’t as frequent.
But it had been fun while it had lasted.
