Page 142 of Just for the Cameras
“They’re really good.”
He goes to open it, but I say, “Don’t even think about it. Put those back in your bag. I don’t want that smell in here.”
He rolls his eyes but puts the seaweed wraps back in his bag, then sits back in his chair, spreads his legs, and takes a sip of his beer.
“So,” OC asks, popping a rectangle of chocolate in his mouth. “What’s going on?”
I spend the next five minutes recounting what happened, from the event, to the kiss, to Monday morning, skipping over what happened Sunday and just saying that I had a rough day. When I told them what happened in the training facility hallway, both of them winced in horror.I already knew I was in the wrong, but to see their reaction to my fuckup, yeah, that didn’t help ease my guilt or my worry.
“Wow.” OC scrubs his hand over his head and drops the chocolate wrapper on the coffee table. “Uh, that’s quite the pickle you got yourself in.”
“Yeah, not great,” Bennett says.
“Yeah, I’m well aware. That’s why I’m asking you fucks for help.”
“You know, being that we’re friends now, I think you should reserve the term ‘fucks’ for people you don’t like, like Hank the Wank, which by the way, great fucking name, man,” OC says.
“So do I,” Bennett adds, looking more loose than when I first met him. He’s either dropping the shy-guy facade or something has changed in his life, like…like a girl has entered the chat. Not that I care, though… “Although, I miss using ‘Slutty Little Glasses.’ It was catchy.”
“I think we can alternate between the two,” OC says. “No need to completely bury the nickname. The art of a great insult is having many options to choose from when in the moment. If we really wanted to master the takedown of the obvious villain of this storyline, we would come up with one more name for him, something…to really dig at his character.”
“Like, maybe calling him by the wrong name?” Bennett asks. “Like instead of Hank, we call him Henry?”
OC shakes his head. “No, it needs to be better than that. Using the wrong name is a slight at him, but he’s after our friend’s girl, so we need something bigger, better.” OC turns to me. “What are the size of his nipples? Any chance we can come up with an insult involving his milkers?”
Jesus.
Fucking.
Christ.
“Can we please bring it back to the problem?” I growl.
“Why did you have to call them ‘milkers’?” Bennett asks, disgust all over his face. “Fuck, that makes me feel dead inside.”
OC dismisses Bennett with a wave of his hand. “Bennett, please, we’re trying to solve a problem here.” OC then turns to me, folds his hands together, and says in a very serious tone, “The problem is, you fucked up big time.”
“Wow, I invited you to my place to point out the obvious, glad I had you come over.” I shake my head and down half my beer. Going to need the alcohol to get through this.
“Listen, we have to state the obvious so we know exactly what we’re dealing with here. From the sound of it, Maple does not want to be anywhere near you, and by the desperation in your voice, we’re at the grand gesture phase.”
For fuck’s sake, I should never have invited them over.
“Oh yeah, I’d agree with that,” Bennett says. “I don’t think a talk with Maple is going to solve this.”
Christ, now the sane one is jumping in on it too.
OC shakes his head. “No, we need a grand gesture. Something that is going to blow her hair right off her head.”
And because he’s right, I’m really that desperate—and want them out of my house as quickly as possible—I ask, “What do you mean?”
“Well, let me ask you this,” OC counters. “What do you want your end result to be? When all is said and done and she’s talking to you again, is this a pissing match with Slutty Little Glasses?” OC winks at Bennett, who nods. “Or do you actually want to be with her? Make something of this more than just a PR relationship?”
I work my jaw to the side as I scratch the scruff on my cheek, the question rolling around in my mind. There’s only one reason why I care so much and it’s because over the past few weeks, Maple has made an impact on me. Don’t know how or when it happened, but all I know is that when she’s around, I feel…lighter.
Happier.
Wanted.
