Triangle

Luke sat in his college dorm room, contemplating what to do next. Class was cancelled, so his night was free. At the moment, he was staring at the slightly yellow ceiling above his bed. Luke crinkled his nose and began to think. He could go to the bar, or to the library, or just stay in tonight. Just as he was about to pull down the covers on his creaky old bed and slip inside, his roommate came bursting in. Dwayne, the hunky football player came in surrounded by a couple of girls. One was pulling at his shirt, and his hand was around the other ones hips, and his lips were about to come into contact with a third girls’.
“You know you can only have a threesome with three people, right?” Luke said sarcastically. Dwayne had been bragging to him for weeks about how he was going to have one before the end of the semester. Quickly raising his head, Dwayne smiled a dirty smile at Luke.
“Shit, man, I thought you had class tonight. Three is childsplay, Luke.” He said with a grin. “Care to join?”
Grimacing at the thought, Luke shook his head.
“I’m out.” Grabbing his keys and sprinting out the door, he added, “Have fun, I guess.” Just as he was locking the door, he heard Dwayne shout that he would.

The Manhattan street was packed, as usual. People going to the club, girls in little black dresses, men with their white shirts half-unbuttoned and crumpled, and staggering drunks wandered the streets. Luke looked at his watch. It was only ten o’clock. Shit, he thought, What am I going to do until tomorrow? He certainly didn’t want to accidentally walk in on his roommate stealing some young girls’ innocence. Undecided on where to go, he just started walking. New York night sounds filled the atmosphere around him; Cars honking, music escaping from the open window of a club, people talking on cell phones, that homeless man snoring on the corner, a dog barking, and the click of high heels on the city blocks.

A catchy, popular song caught his attention. It was seeping out from under the door of a bar. Deciding he had nothing better to do, Luke opened the door and slipped inside. Immediately he was hit with the smell of various alcohols, cigarette smoke, and sawdust covered floors. He slowly made his way over to the bar and sat down in a stool, contemplating what to order. The bartender leaned on the counter on the other end, talking to an older man. He caught a snippet of their conversation.
“Yeah, my son goes to school here. Dwayne. He’s a handful, you know.”
“Sounds like it.” replied the young employee.
“He ever come ‘round here?”
“I wouldn’t know. What’s he look like?”
“Tall, muscular. Usually surrounded by girls.”

Luke lost the rest of the conversation. If the man was Dwayne’s dad, wouldn’t he like to know that his son was in his dorm, screwing, not two girls, but three? Just as he was about to get up and leave, the man gestured at him. The bartender looked over to Luke, then back at the man, patted his arm, and came to talk to Luke. He ordered a pint of beer, the kind that makes you feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The first sip was tentative. The warmth of the alcohol flooded his veins, and he stared at the woman in front of him. She leaned over the bar counter and subtly pushed her breasts together, and Luke could see the outline of a blue lace bra under her v-necked shirt. He quickly looked away and stared into the foam in his glass.