told the story tonight or six months from now, that was immutable. A simple Google search would’ve unearthed it. “People judge me based on it, and I don’t blame them. I deserve it.” Welcome to my Fucked-Up, Charlie. Hope you enjoyed the tour. Don’t forget to tip your guide on the way out.
Leaning in, he said, “Well, unfortunately, tonight, that’s not what you’re getting. I guess you’re gonna have to deal.” He shrugged. I shifted my gaze to the parade of people on the other side of the street. The radio’s volume went up. I heard him fall back against the seat. Kings of Leon drowned out the city.
Chapter Five
Charlie
It was nine A.M. and I had made breakfast, cleaned my bathroom and the kitchen, and swept the balcony already. I was considering doing a fucking lap around the block.
These pills were a goddamn miracle.
Deacon yawned as he tossed me the bound pages of the How to Fuck up a Friendship script from an end table. He skirted around the couch, careful not to wake the blonde whoever splayed on it. “Hey, there’s toast, eggs, and bacon, if either of you wants any,” I whispered. I’d made enough breakfast for everyone on our entire floor.
“She’s going to be here long enough to put her clothes on. If she can eat in that time, too, sure.” He’d discovered an app that used geo location to pair him with hookup matches nearby, so our apartment had the same traffic flow as Miami International these days. “You’re not about to whine all morning about that again, are you?” he asked, ticking his head at the script. “Don’t think I can take you bitching about how terrible everything is, this early.”
“No worries.” Irritation had me clenching my teeth for a moment. Anything I ever showed concern about apparently gave rise to the need for a comment from him. “Will whine about you not shutting the fuck up, though…”
He chuckled. “Where’s your piece from last night?”
“Her name’s Nikki. She’s home, I guess.”
“Can’t close , Dara?”
I flipped him off. There was something about one of your friends stating that you couldn’t get women that made you instantly want to run down the list of everyone you’d ever been with. I wish I could say I had outgrown this crude game of smell my finger, but Deacon’s negative opinion of me about everything annoyed me, even trivial shit. Maybe because we’d been a lot closer once. “It wasn’t about trying to fuck her, Deek…”
“Yeah. Okay,” he said with a skeptical smirk. “You got turned down; it’s okay to admit.” And he lived for any opportunity for schadenfreude. Even when it didn’t really exist. “Not really okay. Funny for me, though.”
I shook my head as I thought about Nikki. After you told someone what was probably the worst thing you’d ever done, you had to be scared out of your mind, of what you’d said and of how they’d react. Of course, I’d wanted to have sex with Nikki when she got to Coco’s, but neither of us was thinking about it after that conversation, probably. She and I listened to the entire Kings of Leon EP twice last night, and then I just started talking. I told her long-winded, rambling shit about my life at prep school and Leeward. I talked like she hadn’t even told me about the drunk driving accident. I hoped she’d thought she was safe with me when I drove her to work, and I wanted her to still feel some kind of security after her story. That was hard to explain to a guy who always rejected any woman using a group photo as her profile pic from the get-go because he thought she was “probably the whale in the back hiding behind her skinny friends.” I was willing to bet he wouldn’t know blondie’s name without looking at his phone.
“All right, dude. Whatever you say,” I mumbled. I walked to the door, and instead of shoving the script into my messenger bag I thumbed through the twenty additional pages I’d written, after we got back from Coco’s this
Leaning in, he said, “Well, unfortunately, tonight, that’s not what you’re getting. I guess you’re gonna have to deal.” He shrugged. I shifted my gaze to the parade of people on the other side of the street. The radio’s volume went up. I heard him fall back against the seat. Kings of Leon drowned out the city.
Chapter Five
Charlie
It was nine A.M. and I had made breakfast, cleaned my bathroom and the kitchen, and swept the balcony already. I was considering doing a fucking lap around the block.
These pills were a goddamn miracle.
Deacon yawned as he tossed me the bound pages of the How to Fuck up a Friendship script from an end table. He skirted around the couch, careful not to wake the blonde whoever splayed on it. “Hey, there’s toast, eggs, and bacon, if either of you wants any,” I whispered. I’d made enough breakfast for everyone on our entire floor.
“She’s going to be here long enough to put her clothes on. If she can eat in that time, too, sure.” He’d discovered an app that used geo location to pair him with hookup matches nearby, so our apartment had the same traffic flow as Miami International these days. “You’re not about to whine all morning about that again, are you?” he asked, ticking his head at the script. “Don’t think I can take you bitching about how terrible everything is, this early.”
“No worries.” Irritation had me clenching my teeth for a moment. Anything I ever showed concern about apparently gave rise to the need for a comment from him. “Will whine about you not shutting the fuck up, though…”
He chuckled. “Where’s your piece from last night?”
“Her name’s Nikki. She’s home, I guess.”
“Can’t close , Dara?”
I flipped him off. There was something about one of your friends stating that you couldn’t get women that made you instantly want to run down the list of everyone you’d ever been with. I wish I could say I had outgrown this crude game of smell my finger, but Deacon’s negative opinion of me about everything annoyed me, even trivial shit. Maybe because we’d been a lot closer once. “It wasn’t about trying to fuck her, Deek…”
“Yeah. Okay,” he said with a skeptical smirk. “You got turned down; it’s okay to admit.” And he lived for any opportunity for schadenfreude. Even when it didn’t really exist. “Not really okay. Funny for me, though.”
I shook my head as I thought about Nikki. After you told someone what was probably the worst thing you’d ever done, you had to be scared out of your mind, of what you’d said and of how they’d react. Of course, I’d wanted to have sex with Nikki when she got to Coco’s, but neither of us was thinking about it after that conversation, probably. She and I listened to the entire Kings of Leon EP twice last night, and then I just started talking. I told her long-winded, rambling shit about my life at prep school and Leeward. I talked like she hadn’t even told me about the drunk driving accident. I hoped she’d thought she was safe with me when I drove her to work, and I wanted her to still feel some kind of security after her story. That was hard to explain to a guy who always rejected any woman using a group photo as her profile pic from the get-go because he thought she was “probably the whale in the back hiding behind her skinny friends.” I was willing to bet he wouldn’t know blondie’s name without looking at his phone.
“All right, dude. Whatever you say,” I mumbled. I walked to the door, and instead of shoving the script into my messenger bag I thumbed through the twenty additional pages I’d written, after we got back from Coco’s this
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