Peter and Putty ended up sharing platonic custody of me that semester. Peter was my Ducky and Putty was my Blaine. And I’m sure their four other roommates loved that.
I was always around.
I was around when they did drunken Karaoke and kept a picture of Putty singing that night next to my bed.
I was around during down times and totally called it while watching Two Guys, a Girl, and a Pizza Parlor that Ryan Reynolds would be a star.
I was around every morning to walk out to the Metro station with them.
I guess if their dorm was a fraternity, I was their ‘House Ho’. And a generally unwelcome one at that.
Peter clearly thought little of Putty but understood why I liked him. He also didn’t beat me over the head with what a stalker I was.
He actually said that I completed Putty’s image of himself. This was not an admiring comment.
Putty had gone on a couple of dates with a young, stupid looking blonde in our building who was in a different college program. Peter pointed out Putty didn’t invite her.
“And I’m not sure why not. I wouldn’t kick her out of bed for eating crackers,” he felt the need to add.
Peter explained that Putty was using me because I was more presentable. Sort of like JFK marrying Jackie to help his political aspirations even though he kept philandering.
I didn’t care. Plus, that night at the party I did my first body shot.
Putty’s loss that it wasn’t off him.
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