Chapter 21 Stuck in the Middle #2
I wait in silence, listening to Jay’s manic tapping on the dash for a couple minutes before carefully tugging on the mustache.
Not yet.
Another minute or two of waiting drags by, and then…
“That’s weird…”
Still nothing.
“What?” Jay asks.
“It’s uh… not working.”
I force a laugh.
“Nah, it’s fine man, just put a little more on. We needed to make sure it was firmly attached, so it might take longer to get it off.”
I follow Jay’s advice, but after a few more minutes and a few more drops of the stuff, all this solvent seems to have accomplished is filling the car with noxious fumes.
“Jay, don’t get me wrong here, but are you sure you grabbed the right stuff?”
“I’m so sure duder. I remember because they were right next to each other. This is the stuff that dissolves the stuff in the brown bottle. I even checked with Piper, she said: ‘make sure you leave the brown bottle…’”
He trails off, his voice dropping away at the same rate as my stomach.
“Jay. Jason. Tell me you didn’t use some sort of forbidden superglue on me. I am not walking around for the next week looking like I placed third in a fucking Waluigi lookalike contest!”
“No no no, it’s fine, I can fix this!” He mumbles, pulling his phone out of his pocket and quickly dialing a number. “Hey, Pipes?”
“Hey, baby! How are you?”
“I’m good, just hanging out with Frankie, doing bro stuff, you know—”
“Ask her about the glue!” I hiss.
“Who the hell was that?”
“That’s just Frankie. He’s a little stressed right now because—” He bites his lip. “Actually babe, I have a really serious question. Life and death kind of stuff. You know that glue you told me not to touch? Can you remind me what the reason was?”
“The ultra glue? It was way too strong. Remember when we used it the last time? It took like six hours to actually remove it.”
Her tone sharpens a little as she goes on, like she may have just started realizing why he’s asking the question.
“Right, yeah, that was absolutely wild. Well, unrelated, but I may have accidentally used it to stick a mustache to Frankie’s face.”
I crack the window, trying to get as much fresh air as possible into my lungs. I’m going to have to cancel the wedding tonight, and when I show Daphne why, she’s never going to let me live it down.
“Jay. Baby. What did I tell you this morning?”
“Don’t touch the brown one, just take the clear bottle.”
“So, do you think I just like the sound of my own voice, or…?”
Okay, this is getting a bit too awkward.
“Hey, Pipes! It’s Frankie! Could we maybe save the after-school special for a little bit, and you can tell me how to get this shit off my face?”
“Honestly? If you don’t want to wait six hours for it to start falling off, you’re probably looking at Urgent Care.”
“Shit.”
“Yeaaaah…” she sighs. “I’m sorry, Frankie.”
“No, it’s… it’s not your fault.”
Jay groans, pinching the bridge of his nose.
“Thanks for the help, babe.”
“No problem— hey, sorry but I gotta go you two. I’m already behind on work and I’ve got a meeting in an hour. Good luck, okay? And babe, text me when you get home.”
“Will do. I love you.”
The line goes dead, and Jay just stares at his phone for a moment or two.
“Hey so, uh… You guys good?”
“Yeah, she’s just stressed.” He slips his phone back into his pocket, smiling sadly. “She didn’t pass her research proposal defense, and it’s been… a little bit rough lately. But enough about that, it sounds like I’m taking you to Urgent Care?”
“Nah, I can drive, it’s—”
“Dude, I can smell that shit from here. There’s no way you’ll be able to see straight in a couple minutes. I drive, you punch it into google maps.”
I shrug, hopping out and swapping seats with him before plugging in the directions to Urgent Care in Lockwood.
It’s not the closest one, but it is the one that traditionally has the lowest wait times.
Hopefully today they’re less than 5 hours, because otherwise it looks like we’ll be having a Waluigi Wedding.
Jay talks the whole drive, singing and drumming on the steering wheel in between apologies. He’s made it up to eight ‘sorries’ by the time we reach our destination, and on to his ninth by the time we’re in line, but I’m barely paying attention to him.
I can’t stop checking my phone.
My stomach knots as we reach the front of the line, but before the nurse can even greet me I’m already blurting out the words:
“How long’s the wait?”
It already took us thirty minutes to get here.
“Hmm…” she frowns, doing some mental calculus as she glances around the waiting room. “I’d say about four hours, but don’t quote me on that.”
I let out a sigh, half-relief and half-defeat.
“Okay. Yeah, that’s fine.” I hand over my insurance and ID. “Four hours isn’t bad.”
“Better than ten, that’s for sure,” she replies nonchalantly, filling in my information. “And what brings you in, Dr. Hughes?”
I clear my throat, leaning in close like I’m about to divulge my deepest, darkest secret.
“My friend and I superglued this fucking mustache to my face, and now I can’t get it off.”
She blinks, staring at me for a good few seconds before shaking her head.
“Well, have a seat and fill out these forms. We’ll call you when we’re ready.”
I thank her, snapping up the papers and making my way back to the seating area. Jay’s already grabbed us a spot, perfectly situated right below the TV.
“Baseball, huh?” I ask, taking a seat next to him.
“You a fan?”
“Kinda, yeah. I used to watch it with my dad when I was a kid. He’d take me to as many games as he could during the season; taught me everything he knew about the game. Actually he was planning on going pro back in college. I think he really missed it by the time I was around.”
Jay grins.
“Basically the same here. Beer league.”
“What position?”
“Pitcher.”
“Were you any good?”
“Of course, I was fucking amazing. Hit the batter in the nards twice in the same game. That’s a real win.”
“Brutal,” I snicker.
We watch the game together in silence for quite a while before I get a little antsy, pulling out my phone and taking a walk around the seating area. Still no new messages, but why would there be? It’s not like she knows what’s happened.
I glance around, making sure no one’s looking before I take what may just be the quickest, most awkward selfie of all time, and send it off to Daphne.
ME
You’ll never guess why I’m in Urgent Care.
I’ve barely slipped my phone back in my pocket before I feel it buzz, snatching it right up again.
DAPHNE
Not that I’m not into it, but why do you have Bigfoot’s pubes stuck to your face?
I chuckle quietly to myself. Only a few weeks back and it’s already like she never left.
ME
You like it? I think it’s my new signature look.
It’s barely a minute before I get my response.
DAPHNE
V says you look like a sad walrus. Huxley says he wants to make it his lockscreen. It’s perfect.