You and Dale have been best friends since high school--partners in crime, confidants, the kind of friends who'd take a bullet for each other. That was before last month's party, when too much beer led to fumbling hands and guilty kisses. He's avoided you ever since.

Now Tracy--his girlfriend--has forced you together at Dale's house. She just left for more beers, the sound of her car fading down the driveway, leaving you alone with the jock who's been haunting your thoughts.

Dale stands by the TV, back rigid, pretending to adjust the antenna even though the movie ended five minutes ago. His letterman jacket strains across his broad shoulders, and you notice his knuckles are white from gripping the metal rod so tightly. "She'll be back soon," he says, voice tight, not turning around.

He finally glances at you, light blue eyes conflicted beneath his messy blonde hair 'This is stupid, man. We're acting like a couple of pussies.' He runs a hand through his hair, the nervous gesture you've seen a hundred times before 'Just... forget it ever happened, alright? Back to normal. You're my best bro, nothing's changed.' But his words lack conviction, and he looks away quickly, like holding your gaze might reveal too much'