10. Ten
TEN
Ihated Huxley Ambrose.
He was just such a jerk.
I could barely look at him over the course of dinner.
I felt his eyes on me several times, though.
Thankfully, I liked everybody else at the table.
They managed to keep the conversation light despite the pall that had settled over it when the Klingon situation popped up yet again.
Personally, I was glad to be able to talk to Brody in my second language.
Bree kept laughing about it. Huxley, though?
He merely glowered whenever I accidentally caught his eye, which was rare.
Dinner conversation turned into a pop culture melee.
They asked my feelings on the finale of Stranger Things.
Personally, I believed it was over-hated.
Sure, there were fans who were always going to be unhappy because their favorite ships never came to fruition.
That wasn’t me, though. Eleven’s outcome would always make me salty — how was it that the girl had to sacrifice herself for all the boys and not get a happy ending, for crying out loud? — but I didn’t hate it.
They asked me about Paradise, which I was a big fan of so far. I loved a good post-apocalyptic story.
That got Bella going about The Walking Dead, which I had watched until the bitter end, but only because I’d spent so many years invested.
The ending was not good, although the Rick and Michonne spinoff did a lot to fix that.
I was never getting over the death of Carl, though, which was the biggest mistake in the entire franchise.
Then, unfortunately, the talk turned to Game of Thrones.
“I liked the ending,” Huxley interjected out of nowhere. “I thought it was good.”
This time, I couldn’t stop myself from focusing on him with the most withering look in my repertoire. “You can’t be serious.”
“It was good,” he insisted. “There was nothing wrong with it.”
I lifted my hand to start ticking items off on my fingers before I even realized what I was doing.
“Bran was king because he had the best stories? Cersei and Jamie were buried under a pile of rubble instead of getting stabbed by Arya?” I took a deep breath.
“What was Jon’s purpose in the final season?
He had three lines he kept repeating and then ended up back over the wall. ”
Nathan nodded. “I’m with Wylie here. The final season was rushed. Some of the stuff — like the dragon queen being evil — was expected. They didn’t put it together very well, though.”
“For Jon not to be involved in the final Night King fight really was stupid,” Brody agreed. “I love Arya — and she absolutely should have been involved — but so should Jon.”
“I always thought that it should look like Jon was down and out, and then Arya should have swooped in, wearing the face of one of the dead guys, and they should have taken him out together,” I offered.
“Her getting that dagger from Bran had to play into the story. I also think that Jamie should have died at Winterfell — there were so few important deaths after the biggest fight ever — and then Arya should have taken Jamie’s face to go after Cersei. ”
“Ooh.” Nathan leaned forward, intrigued. “That is a good one.”
“Anything would have been better than Bran being king, though,” I added. “That essentially makes the guy who said he didn’t ‘want’ any longer abject evil.”
“Interesting.” Brody pursed his lips.
All eyes turned to Huxley expectantly.
“You guys are all geeks,” he replied on a defeated sigh. “Like, complete and total geeks.”
For some reason, that made me smile. “You’re surprised?” I challenged. “You always told your mother that you hated hanging out with me because I was a geek when we were kids.”
All the color drained from his face. “I didn’t … I … who told you that?” he asked finally. There was a hint of panic in his voice.
“I overheard you telling her.” My stomach clenched at the memory. “You have one of those voices that carries.”
He rested his hands on the table and clenched them into fists, looking distinctly uncomfortable. “Wylie …” That was all he got out. Then words failed him.
“It’s fine,” I assured him, all the fight going out of me. Why had I ever cared what this guy thought? My teenage crush had me looking at him through rose-colored glasses. He wasn’t so great. He wasn’t anything as far as I was concerned.
“I stopped caring what other people thought about me a long time ago,” I explained. “My mom always told me that it was exhausting trying to be something for somebody else, and I never understood her. Eventually, I grew to agree with her, though.”
I held out my hands in a “what are you going to do” motion. “I just want to be myself. If people don’t like me, that’s on them, not me.”
“Definitely,” Bree agreed when Huxley continued to stare. “I’m a big fan of people being themselves. That’s why I brought Gertrude into my life.” She cast Huxley a pointed look. “Everybody needs a little Gertrude in their life.”
Huxley snapped his eyes to her. “I’m not keeping that naked statue,” he warned her. “I’ve already told you that if you want her, you should come get her.”
“She’s not grandfathered in at Brody’s house,” Bree complained.
“Our house,” Brody corrected. “It’s our house.”
She shrugged. “It doesn’t feel like home without Gertrude.”
Brody growled. “We’ll figure out a way to get Gertrude in the yard at our house,” he promised. “Don’t throw that statue away,” he warned Huxley. “I’ll never hear the end of it if something happens to Gertrude.”
“Fine.” Huxley heaved out a sigh. He seemed beaten down by life. “I’ll keep the statue for now. You need to get her out of my yard, though.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Bree made a series of growling and spitting noises, then looked to Brody for approval. “Did that sound like Klingon?”
He smiled. “Close enough, baby.”
“Oh, gawd,” Huxley muttered as he sank into his chair. “This feels as if it’s getting personal.”
Good, I thought. I wanted him to be the uncomfortable one for a change.
HAYLEY, brEE, AND BELLA SETTLED with me in the same area of the roof once dinner was over.
Bree kept making random growling noises — she sounded like a bear in heat more than a Klingon — and then asking me if she’d said a word.
I pointed her toward an app that was designed to help people speak flawless Klingon.
I knew that because I’d helped develop it, even though I’d never mentioned it to anybody.
I hadn’t gotten rich off the app, but I’d made enough to retire early — not now, but probably in 10 years — if I invested my money wisely.
Even my mother and Lucy didn’t know. My mother would have been proud and told everybody she knew, and I didn’t want that type of attention.
Lucy would have wanted the money. Since it was my safety net, there was no way that was happening.
Speaking of Lucy, she was still on my last nerve.
“I don’t suppose you guys know of a ranch where hot lesbians work, do you?” I asked out of the blue as everybody put their business cards — which were really bookmarks — on the tables.
Slowly, three sets of eyes tracked to me.
“Excuse me?” Bree asked. “Is there something you want to tell us?”
“Hmm?” I drew up my chin and grinned. “Sorry. I’m not asking for me. My sister is staying with me, though, and she’s got her heart set on finding a forever love on a horse ranch. She wants a sexy cowgirl to call her own. I’m afraid, if I don’t find her one, that she’ll be living with me forever.”
Slowly, Bree’s finger moved toward Hayley.
“What?” I sat straighter and gave Hayley a once-over. She was very pretty. She hated it when people swore. She didn’t cause a lot of upheaval in the group from what I could tell. In no way did she look like a cowgirl, though. “You’re not a cowgirl,” I blurted.
Hayley let loose a hearty chuckle. “If you’re looking for the female version of Rip in Yellowstone, you’re probably destined for disappointment. I did, however, grow up on a ranch.”
“That’s why she doesn’t like swearing,” Bree volunteered. “Her mother — who was just like Ma Ingalls — hates swearing. So now Hayley gets itchy whenever she hears anything approximating a swear word.”
“My mother is nothing like Ma Ingalls,” Hayley complained. “Stop telling people that.”
“It’s true.” Bree managed to keep her expression solemn, but I could tell it took effort. “She can churn butter, and she wears prairie dresses, and she once used bread for a poultice.”
“How do you know about poultices?” Bella asked. She looked genuinely interested.
Bree shrugged. “There’s a channel on Pluto TV. It’s just for Little House on the Prairie episodes. I like basking in the misery of others. That’s the perfect show for that.”
I could see that. As fascinating as I found Bree’s viewing habits, however, I was much more interested in Hayley’s story. “Are you single?”
Bree let out a hoot. “She’s going to try to play matchmaker with her sister.”
“No offense, but your sister sounds like a nut,” Hayley replied. There was nothing mean about her tone. She was just matter-of-fact. “If you’re so desperate to get rid of her, why do you think I would be willing to take her? I’m not a pleasant person.”
“Lucy is a catch,” I argued. “She’s pretty and has a great personality.”
“Does she look like you?” Bella asked.
I nodded. “She has a different chin. She has my mother’s chin, I guess, now that I think of it. She’s younger, though, and full of energy. You would love her.”
“You’re just trying to unload her,” Hayley scoffed.
“No, I love my sister. I just want her to …” I trailed off and thought about it. What did I want for Lucy? I’d just made a big speech over dinner about wanting people to accept me for who I was, and yet here I was hoping to change Lucy. That didn’t seem fair.
“Hey.” Bree snapped her fingers in front of my face. “Where did you go?”
I jolted out of my reverie, then shrugged. “I was just thinking how I want to be free to be a geek without people judging me, and yet I want her to change. That’s pretty hypocritical, huh?”