Marlon trailed behind, closing the march with nonchalance as if they were really going up to chill.Jake kicked the bedroom door open with his heel and let them into the mess of the unmade bed with sheets twisted into a knot, gym socks kicked into a corner, a trophy shelf haphazardly organized, and a desk lamp flickering on its last legs. “Jake needs his protein. Gay sex “Bet,” not daring to say another word yet unwilling to back out now as he followed Jake back inside.Night rolled in fast by the time Jake’s truck rumbled up to his frat house, a sprawling, sagging beast of a place, porch littered with crushed cans. “Every day.”Marlon rose and opened his zipper. He tugged on fresh kicks, black Nikes Carl had nabbed him last week, and grabbed his stash, rolling a fat blunt for the road. He’d need it.The dive bar was a squat brick shithole with a neon “Bud” sign buzzing in the window, the kind of place frat bros trashed and stumbled out of. His shorts rode high on thick thighs, quads still pumped from whatever drill he’d been running, and that cocky smile split wide when he clocked Malik.“Yo, dealer boy, watch where you’re fucking running, huh?” Jake’s voice boomed, all frat-bro swagger,
