Chapter 6 #3
He hummed thoughtfully. "Oh. Huh. Never thought about that." He glared at me. "Also, don't throw shade at my Care Bears tee. It's vintage and cool as hell."
"I wasn't throwing shade. It's a cool shirt."
"You really love her, Dane? Like for real? It's not just wanting another shot at epic sex?"
"If I had made a move, we'd have had sex. It's not that."
"You sound awfully confident in that."
"I am."
"You don't get credit for not doing something bad."
"That's not my point. My point is that it's not about sex."
"You do you, boo, but if it were me, I'd give her some time and see what happens."
"I think that's the only thing to do," I said. "You think I'm a tough nut to crack? Lindsey is on a whole other level of impossible to get through to.”
Silence, except the chuck-slap of waves against the hull and the squawking chatter of gulls.
"Okay, but like, the finger in the bungus…was it your idea or hers?"
"I shouldn't have said anything."
"But you diiiiiid!" he turned "did" into a three-syllable sing-song.
"Hers."
"Right, right, right. So, then—"
"Jax? Shut up. Try it yourself if you want to know what it was like."
"I just might."
"You'd need a girlfriend for that. Or a boyfriend, I’m not judging.”
"Ever hear of casual sex?"
"Hell of a thing to do on a one-night stand. Like, hey girl, we just met, and this is crazy, but would you finger my butt while you suck me off?"
"You may have a point. And I'm not discussing this any further."
I stabbed the sky with a forefinger. "To shore, Captain Bungus!"
"Yes, sir, Admiral Hole Puncher."
I stared at him. "The fuck?"
He turned red. "Shut up. It sounded funnier in my head."
I snickered. "Admiral Hole Puncher. Guess who's got a new online handle, now."
"You do?" he asked, hopefully.
"Nope, you. I'm gonna hack into your Fortnite account and change your name to Admiral Hole Puncher."
"You couldn't hack into an open-source browser."
"I could figure it out."
"Dane, if you can change my handle in Fortnite, I swear to god I will give you my truck."
"You really don't think I could?"
"Nope." He grinned. "Mainly because I don't play Fortnite anymore. I got bored of owning everyone."
"Oh, come off it. I beat you every time."
"Try me in Apex."
"No one plays Apex anymore."
"There are more diehards left than you'd think."
"Wait, wait, wait. Remember our Goldeneye tournaments over Christmas break?" I grinned at him. “Let's get the gang together and see if it holds up. I have my N64 in the basement, still."
"You mean my N64?" he corrected.
"No, mine."
"I got it for Christmas."
"Yeah…from Merrick, who stole it from my house while I was at hockey camp and gave it to you."
He blinked at me. "Wait, what? You're fucking with me."
"Nope. He confessed at a barbecue last summer. You were too busy flirting with Isaac's girlfriend to hear him."
"She's out of Isaac's league."
"Uh, yeah. She's in New York modeling for, like, Givenchy and shit. How he snagged her in the first place is the real mystery."
"He is funny," Jax said. "Like, really funny. I think it's a Pete Davidson sort of thing."
"What, like B-D-E?"
Jax waved both hands. "Why are we talking about this? Are we calling everyone for a Goldeneye tourney or what?"
"Wait, like everyone?” I said. "Not everyone everyone."
"No, not literally all thirty-six of us or whatever it is," he said. "Marco, Isaac, Kieran, Merrick, Lucas, and Lennox. And Donovan. That's the crew who used to do the Goldeneye marathons."
"You think the dads would want in?" I suggested. "Bax, Brock, Canaan, and Corin all used to get in on it."
"It's from their generation, so we should probably invite them, yeah.
" He pointed at me. "You text the cousins, I'll text the dads.
And bro? Keep it short and spell check your shit.
You're high as a motherfucker and you know the cousins will say shit, and I don't have enough to smoke down all of us.
I'm broke till payday—that joint was the last of my flower. "
I clapped him on the shoulder. "I appreciate you, Jax. Thanks for this. I needed it."
He pinched my cheek. "I know you did. Now—whose house? You have the best basement."
"Let me make sure my folks are cool with us all dropping in."
"Yeah, good plan. I don't wanna walk in on Uncle Bast and Auntie Dru gettin' freaky…uhhhh-gain."
I lowered my phone and stared at him. "Again?"
"Unfortunately, yes. I thought I'd swing by and say hey to you one afternoon—this was, like, two years ago. I thought you'd be home 'cause you usually were at that time on that day. They always said the door is open, we're all family, just come on in. So I did."
"Oh god."
"Yup."
"Don't tell me anymore. Please. I'm begging you."
"Couch. Reverse Cowgirl."
"FUCK YOU! I said don't tell me anymore, you ass-clown!"
"If I have to know that, so do you."
"Those are my fuckin' parents, Jax. Jesus." This was feeling like déjà vu.
"They're my aunt and uncle! You gotta admit, though—it's inspiring. I want that for myself, someday. A relationship where we're still fucking like porn stars after twenty-some years, you know?"
"Yes, yes, yes, I agree, me too, but we can not talk about my parents and their sex life anymore, please? I swear I'll name my firstborn after you if we can change the fucking subject."
We bantered all the way back across the Passage to shore, but my mind was only partly on the conversation.
The rest of me was back in LA, wondering what Lindsey was doing, how she was feeling…
And more than anything, whether or not Jax was right that me professing my love was a shit move.
As Mom used to say to us kids all the time when we were arguing and started saying mean shit:
Just because something is true doesn't mean you have to say it; sometimes the kindest thing you can say is nothing at all.