Love and Lists
Page 11
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
“Can we go inside now? I need a drink.”
Tyler and I continue to stare at her across the top of the car. She seems normal right now. Maybe things have changed and she’s not bat shit crazy anymore. I mean, we all do stupid things in high school, right? She’s twenty-five years old now. She’s probably matured.
Brooklyn walks around the front of the car and comes up next to me, linking her arm through my elbow.
“It’s nice to see you again, Gavin. So, what are we going for tonight? A little jealousy or total annihilation?”
“Jealousy.”
“Make the bitch cry!” Tyler and I inform her at the same time.
“Well okay then. How about somewhere in the middle? Are you okay with that?” Brooklyn asks as we walk toward the door of Wolfey’s.
“Nothing over the top. I just want Charlotte to get a tiny bit jealous and maybe see me differently.”
“False. You need to make Charlotte think he’s a sex God. So talk about his penis a lot,” Tyler informs her.
Trying not to blush with embarrassment, I smack Tyler on the arm. “We do not have to follow the list exactly. No talking about my penis.”
Brooklyn nods as Tyler opens the door for us. “Got it. No problem.”
“I really appreciate you doing this for me, Brooklyn. I know we didn’t end on the best of terms, and I apologize for my mom throwing chocolate sprinkles in your eye.”
We make our way through the crowd of people to the back of the bar and the group of tables where the gang always sits.
“Really, it’s fine. No hard feelings at all. That was a long time ago, and I’m a different person now.”
I breathe a sigh of relief at her words and try not to be nervous when I see Charlotte standing next to Ava, staring right at us.
This is going to work. It’s totally going to work.
THIS IS NOT WORKING AT ALL! CODE RED!
“Gavin, let’s go into the bathroom so you can stick it in my ass again like last week. That was sooooooo good,” Brooklyn slurs as she wraps her arms around my neck and drapes her body across my chest.
I try to shush her so she stops talking so loudly but that just makes it worse.
“GAVIN HAS AN AMAZING PENIS!” Brooklyn screams over the sounds of music and people.
For the most part tonight, no one has paid much attention to Brooklyn, which I think is part of the problem. She wants people to notice her. I just want her to sit next to me quietly and pretend to be a nice, sweet girlfriend. The first time I whispered that suggestion in her ear, she reached under the table and squeezed my nuts in a death grip. Obviously my recommendation wasn’t pleasing to her ears.
Tyler, Ava, Charlotte, Rocco, Brooklyn, and myself have been here for exactly two hours. Within the first three minutes, Brooklyn has downed two dirty martinis and three shots of something called Liquid Marijuana. My sister Sophia couldn’t make it tonight because she just started the summer session of her last year in college. I am thanking my lucky stars for that because she probably would have dragged Brooklyn by her hair into the bathroom and beat the shit out of her. Even though Sophia was only twelve when I dated Brooklyn, she still remembers. And she shares our mother’s hatred of her.
Ava has been shooting her dirty looks all night, even before Brooklyn turned belligerent. I’ve seen her whispering in Charlotte’s ear every time Brooklyn speaks, and I can only imagine what she’s saying. Probably something along the lines of “I’d punch that bitch in the face if I wasn’t afraid of breaking a nail or missing a text message when I had to put my phone down.”
I wish Molly, Charlotte and Ava’s youngest sister, was here. Molly is the peacekeeper in the family and can diffuse any situation. She probably would have been able to get Brooklyn to stop drinking eight shots ago with no problem. Unfortunately, Molly is only nineteen and therefore, not allowed in the bar. Same goes with both of Aunt Jenny and Uncle Drew’s kids, Veronica, also nineteen, and Billy, sixteen. All they care about is being the life of the party and probably would be doing plenty of stupid things to take the focus off of Drunky McDrunkerson sitting here next to me.
“Dude, this plan is NOT working,” I complain quietly to Tyler next to me.
“What are you talking about? It’s totally working. Charlotte can’t stand to see you with her.”
“The entire bar can’t stand to see me with her because she keeps yelling at random people that she’s going to cut their mother,” I complain.
“She’ll be fine. Just make sure she takes her meds,” Tyler tells me distractedly as he winks at a girl a few tables away.
“Meds? What meds? Should she be mixing medication with alcohol?” Panicking when I feel Brooklyn’s head slump forward, I place my fingers against the side of her neck to make sure she’s still alive.
Her head jerks up suddenly and she starts screaming. “OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG! I WANT TO DANCE!”
I stare at her in horror as she laughs uncontrollably. She suddenly shoots up from her chair and points to a guy at the far end of the bar about twenty yards away. “Do you see that guy? He’s staring at me. He’s creepy and he keeps staring at me. That little Chinaman keeps staring.”
Glancing over to where she points, I see nothing but a group of women talking to a fifty-something guy.
“I’m going to chase him,” Brooklyn states.
“What? No. He’s not staring at you and you aren’t chasing anyone.”
Tyler and I continue to stare at her across the top of the car. She seems normal right now. Maybe things have changed and she’s not bat shit crazy anymore. I mean, we all do stupid things in high school, right? She’s twenty-five years old now. She’s probably matured.
Brooklyn walks around the front of the car and comes up next to me, linking her arm through my elbow.
“It’s nice to see you again, Gavin. So, what are we going for tonight? A little jealousy or total annihilation?”
“Jealousy.”
“Make the bitch cry!” Tyler and I inform her at the same time.
“Well okay then. How about somewhere in the middle? Are you okay with that?” Brooklyn asks as we walk toward the door of Wolfey’s.
“Nothing over the top. I just want Charlotte to get a tiny bit jealous and maybe see me differently.”
“False. You need to make Charlotte think he’s a sex God. So talk about his penis a lot,” Tyler informs her.
Trying not to blush with embarrassment, I smack Tyler on the arm. “We do not have to follow the list exactly. No talking about my penis.”
Brooklyn nods as Tyler opens the door for us. “Got it. No problem.”
“I really appreciate you doing this for me, Brooklyn. I know we didn’t end on the best of terms, and I apologize for my mom throwing chocolate sprinkles in your eye.”
We make our way through the crowd of people to the back of the bar and the group of tables where the gang always sits.
“Really, it’s fine. No hard feelings at all. That was a long time ago, and I’m a different person now.”
I breathe a sigh of relief at her words and try not to be nervous when I see Charlotte standing next to Ava, staring right at us.
This is going to work. It’s totally going to work.
THIS IS NOT WORKING AT ALL! CODE RED!
“Gavin, let’s go into the bathroom so you can stick it in my ass again like last week. That was sooooooo good,” Brooklyn slurs as she wraps her arms around my neck and drapes her body across my chest.
I try to shush her so she stops talking so loudly but that just makes it worse.
“GAVIN HAS AN AMAZING PENIS!” Brooklyn screams over the sounds of music and people.
For the most part tonight, no one has paid much attention to Brooklyn, which I think is part of the problem. She wants people to notice her. I just want her to sit next to me quietly and pretend to be a nice, sweet girlfriend. The first time I whispered that suggestion in her ear, she reached under the table and squeezed my nuts in a death grip. Obviously my recommendation wasn’t pleasing to her ears.
Tyler, Ava, Charlotte, Rocco, Brooklyn, and myself have been here for exactly two hours. Within the first three minutes, Brooklyn has downed two dirty martinis and three shots of something called Liquid Marijuana. My sister Sophia couldn’t make it tonight because she just started the summer session of her last year in college. I am thanking my lucky stars for that because she probably would have dragged Brooklyn by her hair into the bathroom and beat the shit out of her. Even though Sophia was only twelve when I dated Brooklyn, she still remembers. And she shares our mother’s hatred of her.
Ava has been shooting her dirty looks all night, even before Brooklyn turned belligerent. I’ve seen her whispering in Charlotte’s ear every time Brooklyn speaks, and I can only imagine what she’s saying. Probably something along the lines of “I’d punch that bitch in the face if I wasn’t afraid of breaking a nail or missing a text message when I had to put my phone down.”
I wish Molly, Charlotte and Ava’s youngest sister, was here. Molly is the peacekeeper in the family and can diffuse any situation. She probably would have been able to get Brooklyn to stop drinking eight shots ago with no problem. Unfortunately, Molly is only nineteen and therefore, not allowed in the bar. Same goes with both of Aunt Jenny and Uncle Drew’s kids, Veronica, also nineteen, and Billy, sixteen. All they care about is being the life of the party and probably would be doing plenty of stupid things to take the focus off of Drunky McDrunkerson sitting here next to me.
“Dude, this plan is NOT working,” I complain quietly to Tyler next to me.
“What are you talking about? It’s totally working. Charlotte can’t stand to see you with her.”
“The entire bar can’t stand to see me with her because she keeps yelling at random people that she’s going to cut their mother,” I complain.
“She’ll be fine. Just make sure she takes her meds,” Tyler tells me distractedly as he winks at a girl a few tables away.
“Meds? What meds? Should she be mixing medication with alcohol?” Panicking when I feel Brooklyn’s head slump forward, I place my fingers against the side of her neck to make sure she’s still alive.
Her head jerks up suddenly and she starts screaming. “OH MY GOD I LOVE THIS SONG! I WANT TO DANCE!”
I stare at her in horror as she laughs uncontrollably. She suddenly shoots up from her chair and points to a guy at the far end of the bar about twenty yards away. “Do you see that guy? He’s staring at me. He’s creepy and he keeps staring at me. That little Chinaman keeps staring.”
Glancing over to where she points, I see nothing but a group of women talking to a fifty-something guy.
“I’m going to chase him,” Brooklyn states.
“What? No. He’s not staring at you and you aren’t chasing anyone.”