Meet Up with the Econ Study Group

You give Ashley Wright one last look from the other side of the pitch. The leggy blonde is stretching and laughing with her team, and you think to yourself that, in another world, you might have gone for it. But your studies call, and besides, Helen and Mal are going to be there, and you can’t pass that opportunity up.

After exchanging a few texts, you determine that lunch is going to be at Leoncavallo’s, a homey Italian place that does great pasta. Jack, now changed into a crisp light-blue dress shirt and slacks, gives you a nod as you meet at the edge of the field. The two of you walk over to the restaurant, largely ignoring each other for the most part in an awkward silence born in mutual unease.

Leoncavallo’s is doing good business this Saturday noon, and you barely manage to snag a small table by the back, Jack and you scrunched tight next to each other on barstools under the low light and loud conversation. The waiter almost haphazardly tosses you four menus, and you idly flip through a copy until the girls arrive.

Helen and Mal are looking good today, dressed in matching summery tees and jean shorts. Now that it’s well and truly autumn, this is probably one of the last days of the year in which the outfit would make sense, and Jack lets out a loud whistle that draws angry looks from some of the other patrons trying to enjoy lunch.

“Hey boys,” Mal says cheerily, waving a hand as she squeezes into the barstool across from you. “How’d the game go?”

{if SoccerScore1 == 3}“We won,”{else}”We didn’t manage to win,”{endif} you shrug.

“Yeah, no thanks to you,” Jack retorts, and Mal’s eyebrows shoot up.

“Oh, this sounds exciting! What’d you do Alex?” She takes a big sip of her drink while watching you with expectant eyes. “Did somebody mess up today?” Helen, beside her, rolls her eyes and scans through the menu instead.

“Jack’s bullshitting, we all got chewed out by the coach,” you say, “and besides, didn’t Daphne have some choice words for you, Jack?”

You see Jack starting to get a little red in the face, and he’s about to make some scathing remark when Helen puts down the menu and gives him a pointed look.

“Guys, we’re here to work on economics, not rip each other’s throats out,” she says, giving you the same hard look a second later. “Let’s at least pretend to play nice.”

“We were just having a little fun,” Mal says, but the giggles that she can’t stifle afterwards betray the truth: she was trying to get the two of you riled up.

Soon after you make your orders, Helen pulls out a spiral-bound notebook.

“So here’s the problem that I’ve been stuck on,” she says, and you lean over the table to get a better look at the problem, getting a nice eyeful of the girls’ cleavage as you do so.

Single students should masturbate more than students in a relationship, assuming that sex and masturbation are substitutes.

“It’s obviously true,” Jack says. “Come on, this wasn’t a hard problem.”

“I’d like to see you take that smug attitude into a test,” Helen says. “Come on, how do you know single students don’t just sleep around more? And wouldn’t that mean that they’d just masturbate less?”

“Girl makes a good point,” Mal says, pointing at Helen. “But think about it this way. Why would a person in a relationship ever need to masturbate? It’s only if you’re single and don’t have always have a booty to call that you’d need to.”

Jack frowns, as if suddenly realising that the question had a little more depth than he was expecting, and Mal smiles triumphantly.

“There’s no way that we’re both right, is there?” Helen asks, and you shrug, a little lost in thought.

The lot of you fall into a slight impasse as the food arrives, big plates of pasta with plenty of tomato sauce heaped on top.

You wolf down half your portion—the soccer game left you plenty hungry—when an idea strikes.

“Here, let me pose a question,” you say.

Helen +5
Mallory +5