Fever Pitch by Heidi Cullinan Page B

Elijah about floor meetings or campus events, but Elijah only ever snapped at him. It hurt to realize not only would he not be friends with his roommate, he’d have to work to not talk to him or risk a blowup. He supposed there were worse arrangements in the world probably, somewhere. All Elijah did was sit at his desk, writing on and on in his notebooks—which, weirdly, were never visible unless Elijah was actively working on them.
    If Elijah was weird, his friends were weirder . He seemed to have exactly two, and wouldn’t you know it, they were poster people for the kind of crazy Christians Aaron had feared he’d encounter at Saint Timothy.
    The guy, Reece, was the one who’d handed Aaron a Jesus flyer during orientation, and he was even freakier up close. Aaron didn’t get into fat shaming, but something about the way Reece wore his weight made Aaron have to work not to stare. Reece wasn’t jolly like Aaron’s RA, always wearing comfy sweats showcasing his ample belly and offering to share the cookies his grandmother sent. Or the beefy guy across the hall who held gaming competitions in his room and worked as a bouncer for the Shack and shouted at anyone passing through the hall who he thought might be considering calling him fatty.
    Reece was something else entirely. His weight was dough around him, straining his skin, making his bulging, wild eyes appear that much crazier. He seemed unaware of his size, wearing too-tight, unflattering clothes. Everything about Reece was pushy. He didn’t simply talk to people—he invaded their space and sprayed them with spittle when he got excited about something. He always carried pamphlets and flyers, sticking them on or under doors, forcing people to take them, eliciting promises they’d attend his upcoming meetings if they didn’t immediately bolt. He proselytized every chance he got, urging the residents of Saint Timothy to accept Jesus and be saved from sin…which Aaron thought was ballsy to do at a Lutheran university hosting three campus pastors, a huge religion department, daily optional chapel and weekly church services.
    Elijah’s other friend was female. Emily was pretty and petite, always neatly groomed, her hair either in a demure Sandra Dee-like ponytail or held back in an equally 1950s’ headband. Her clothes were clearly carefully chosen and fully fashionable—even when she wore a religious T-shirt fifteen other people wore at the same time. She wore smart little pins on the lapel of her cardigan broadcasting quiet moral admonitions and invitations. Come To My Church With Me. PRAY HARD. Do You Know Jesus?
    The one she wore most often when visiting Elijah was a red marriage-equality equal sign—with a line through it.
    Though Reece was openly creepy, Emily was stealth, and she made Aaron nervous. While Reece bellowed Good News in the hallway, Emily stood on the sidelines like a demure hawk. When the Campus Crusaders held their meetings in the main lobby of the union, Emily managed to stand next to earnest young men and talk about a woman knowing her place…while at the same time clearly running the show. She spoke of abstinence and purity while giving not-at-all-subtle bedroom eyes to any hot guy who happened by. If she was somehow still unsoiled , as she encouraged her female disciples to be, she was the vampiest virgin Aaron had ever seen.
    She had her headlights set on Aaron.
    On the day of the Ambassadors’ first rehearsal, Emily and Reece came to pick Elijah up as usual. He’d decorated his desk with a few of the religious knickknacks from the bottom drawer before they arrived, and he donned the khakis, short-sleeved shirt and powder-blue tie that made him look like a dryer-shrunk door-to-door salesman. His notebooks vanished to whatever special wormhole he kept them in, and he waited at his desk, surfing Christian websites on his computer, his Bible-study binder and well-worn Bible