The False Flat

CHAPTER 21

LIFE REALIZATION #10: NEVER EAT THE MARSHMALLOWS

Change they did.

The sun shifted. The light moved away. A skinny, shirtless guy ran between us and knocked three-fourths of his beer into my face, reality spitting in my eyes. William bounced back and forth on his feet before pulling off his shirt and handing it to me. Chuck moved to confront the half-naked punk who’d showered me.

The crowd swallowed Grant. The last note of the song faded in the heat of June’s setting sun, and I wondered if I’d imagined it all. The lyrics, the music, the man, likely all some buzzed daydream.

I wiped my eyes with William’s shirt and nodded when asked if I was all right. I wasn’t all right, but it had nothing to do with spilled brew and everything to do with the beautiful woman tucking her arm into Grant’s as she smiled up at him and said something that was surely charming. His eyes sparkled when he looked down at her and laughed.

They were perfect.

I pushed my way through the crowd, through a plume of smoke I recognized as marijuana, until I made it to the on-site RV that Deanna had rented for us before she’d abandoned me.

Halo and a slender woman with purple hair were grinding against each other beside the door. They didn’t even acknowledge my presence as I passed, tears blurring my vision. I lay on the couch-thing, closing my eyes so tightly I saw stars.

Then I pulled my mermaid quilt to my face and let the gnawing ache around my heart rock me to sleep.

The next day, I shoved my bag into the back of the van and looked up at the three single clouds in the sky, letting the early-afternoon sun fall on my face.

“Where’s Halo?” I asked.

Once Chuck got back from the bathroom and we located Halo, we could leave. I wanted to go home, but I dreaded the ride back because I didn’t want to be near Grant right now or ever. And why hadn’t he ridden with Elaine?

King shrugged his stick arms. “Don’t care. We broke up.”

William elbowed me, and I tried not to smile. But inside, I gloated, which kept me from noticing Grant until he was right beside me.

“Did you have a good time?” he asked.

“Oh, it was great.” I blinked too many times and licked my lips twice, two times too many. It was like the features of my face were malfunctioning.

“I got you something.” He leaned into the van and pulled out some fluffy pink cotton candy.

I hate you, Grant. I really hate you.

His eyebrows scrunched when I didn’t take the spun sugar. “Didn’t you say you wanted cotton candy earlier?”

“Yes! Thank you!” Too loud. Wrong inflection.

I had said that, but I hadn’t thought anyone was paying attention. If we were going to be friends, he needed to stop being so damned thoughtful.

“William, what are you eating?” King shouted as he ran toward William, who’d been digging in the trunk. King grabbed an empty Tupperware container from William’s hand. “That was my spare! I already promised it to a guy.”

William swallowed, looked annoyed. “It’s one marshmallow. I’ll buy you some more.”

Chuck returned from the bathroom. “He ate one of them LSD marshmallows? Deanna’s gonna be pissed.”

William whipped toward King, who was laughing so hard I was sure he was going to snap in half. “You put LSD in those marshmallows?”

“It’s fairly standard, newbie. Where have you been this whole time?”

“Not on an LSD trip!” William was now pacing. “What do I do?” He looked at each of us—all laughing nervously—in plea.

Grant sobered and looked at me. “You should call Deanna.”

“Me? Why me?”

“She’s your friend.”

I shoved him. “She’s your sister.”

He nudged me back. “I’m scared of her, okay?”

Chuck leaned in. “You two need to stop flirting and call Deanna.”

“We’re not flirting!” My face reddened as I protested, again too loud and too quickly.

Grant blew air out his nose. He was irritatingly un-red as he reached for the van door. “Let’s see what happens.”

As we were nearing Nashville, William put his hand in the air and swayed, an imaginary rainbow coming out of his fingertips. “The coloooors!” He unbuckled himself and attempted to climb over the seat to catch the musical notes he swore were physically coming out of the radio.

A long belch trailed out of William’s mouth as Chuck pulled him back into his seat. “I can actually seeeee my burp! This. Is. Excellent!”

“Nobody sees your foul-smelling mouth fart,” Chuck growled.

“Mouth faaaaart!” William grabbed Chuck’s face and got way too close. “Did you make that up?” Then he felt around for a pen in his pocket. “I’m writing that one down.”

King howled.

“Wouldn’t be laughing if I were you,” Chuck warned. “Deanna’s gonna rip you apart.”

King stopped laughing.

I texted Deanna a video of William to make sure she still wanted him at home. She did.

Grant’s hand brushed mine when he reached for the cell phone in his pocket after a text notification came in, and a little electrical impulse skittered across my insides.

As William insisted the rainbow trees outside were wearing top hats and performing a musical number, I leaned toward Grant, inhaled. “Deanna?”

“Elaine.”

I looked out the window, wishing the trees really were wearing top hats and that one of them would reach into the car and sweep Grant’s phone right out of his hand. And then I looked at my phone, checking my email as a distraction.

My stomach dropped as I opened the one titled WeWork Following Up—New renter for your office space. Someone else wanted to rent my office for the next three months, and I’d been asked to vacate as soon as my contract was over.

My head whapped into the side of the window as King curved into Deanna’s driveway.

Grant leaned over and whispered, “This isn’t going to go well, is it?”

It took me a second to pull myself out of the email and realize he was talking about William and Deanna.

Deanna waited on the sidewalk, arms crossed.

“See? Pissed,” Chuck said as he maneuvered William out of the vehicle.

King took one look at Deanna, threw our bags onto the driveway, and peeled out.

As soon as William’s feet hit the aggregate driveway, he ran toward Deanna, then past her, and disappeared through the neighbors’ back gate.

Deanna threw her arms up. “Where’s he going?”

“The better question is probably how’d he get his clothes off so fast.” Chuck nodded toward the elegant swimming pool in the neighbors’ backyard.

Grant took off.

“Freeeeee!” William yelled as he belly flopped right into the sparkling water, completely naked.

“No, William! They just came back from a funeral!” Deanna screamed as she, Chuck, and I filed through the gate and ran right into an older woman holding a tomato; her mouth was still open as she gawked at the very naked man leaping up and down in her swimming pool screaming that she should join him and be free.

Grant was bent low over the pool, gesturing for William to get out.

A teenage boy in an ill-fitting black suit materialized from inside the house, pulled out his phone, and pointed it at William and Grant.

I sighed. This was probably going to be the next viral TikTok.

Deanna picked up her husband’s pants lying in a heap by her neighbors’ tomato plants and held them to her chest. “Mrs. Collin, I’m so sorry for your loss and for William interrupting the wake,” she explained. “William has always adored your pool, and he had drugs.” She shook her head. “He’s ... he’s not a drug addict. It was an accident. He ate marshmallows. He likes to snack, you know, loves your buns.”

When Mrs. Collin pulled back in horror, Deanna screamed, “Cinnamon buns! He likes the ones you make. I don’t know why I said that. Please don’t call the police.”

I put my arm around Deanna and spoke for her. “It’s a long story, Mrs. Collin, and we are so, so sorry. We’ll get William and get out of your hair as soon as we can.”

This was going to require a gift-basket apology and years of space.

“Take those fabric shackles off, people, and get in here!” William, from the pool. He was dodging Grant and Chuck.

“It sounds great, buddy, it does,” Grant cooed, “but you’re in your neighbors’ pool, and you don’t have clothes on. We need to get ya home.”

“You’re not making sense.” He backstroked away, and every part of him, every, glinted in the sun.

“William, get out of there!” Deanna screamed, but William carried on as if she’d told him she’d be joining him in a minute.

“Grant, do something. This is ...” Deanna glanced back at the wake attendees in black, who were lined up, watching.

“That’s it.” Grant slipped off his shoes and socks, then his shirt. I had this wild idea that Embrace-Life Grant was giving in, stripping down, and joining William. But his jeans remained as he dove into the pool.

Chuck bent at the edge of the water. “Get ’im to the edge, Grant, and I’ll pull his naked ass out.”

Silence. Deanna and I covered our mouths. After three failed attempts, Grant finally managed to grip William’s waist and pulled. William spun in Grant’s arms.

“No pets in the ocean! That little guy’s gonna drown!” William screamed as he went after Grant’s facial hair.

Nothing deterred Grant, not even his jeans when they rode low on his surprisingly cut waist as he stepped out of the water, carrying his large friend. I tried not to notice, but I couldn’t look away, especially after I spotted the small patch of ink on the right side of his lower torso.

Grant has a tattoo.

Hot.

“Get the gate,” Grant ordered and then carried William across the neighbors’ lawn, to a backdrop of whistles, claps, and cheers from what now seemed like all the mourners. When William protested, Grant growled, “Don’t even think about it,” a husky demand that made my belly flutter. Miraculously, William obeyed.

I wasn’t sure which it was—Grant’s immediate action, his naked torso, his authoritative strength, rippling back muscles, or the tattoo—but my body ached. I wanted to be William because he was wet and naked and in Grant’s arms.

This was not how you were supposed to feel about your friends.

I pulled my cell from my pocket, replied to the workspace email, releasing my old office space, and booked a ticket to Minnesota because my feelings for Grant were the last straw. I was not going to be a cheater—again.