Getty looks at me. “Our houseguest has inspired me to try out some new hobbies.”
Julian eyes his brother with suspicion and stirs his melting gelato.
“Check this out.” Tye elbows me again. He tosses a blackberry high in the air and catches it in his mouth.
Getty starts to clap, loud and slow. “Perfect. That is exactly what I would expect an oversexed circus bear to do.”
OH. SHIT.
“What the fuck?” Tye wipes berry juice from the corner of his mouth.
“Shouldn’t you be laughing?” Getty says. “You’re always laughing at things that aren’t funny.”
My face burns as I hear my own words being repeated. By now I’m unsurprised when Getty reaches under his chair and pulls out a thick spiral bound book with a pink and white striped cover.
My journal. The one I left sitting on a desk in a room that I can’t lock when I leave.
“Now what the hell is that?” Fort asks as Getty opens the book containing my very private thoughts.
Getty licks the tip of his finger and turns a page. “At first I thought it was just a really boring story about a girl who collects fountain pens and inventories her pantry shelves on Saturday nights but then I got to the interesting parts.”
Julian catches on that his brother is up to no good. “Let’s go in the hallway for a chat. Now.”
“Don’t blame me.” Getty flips through the pages of my journal. “I can’t help the fact that I’m just chaos in a human form. Totally deranged.”
“I’m not oversexed,” Tye announces. “And when I laugh, it’s because shit is fucking funny.”
Getty pauses his inspection of my journal long enough to look up. He’s thrilled to find me staring at him and likely resembling a rabbit trapped in the headlights of an oncoming garbage truck.
What does he think I’m going to do? Cry? Run away? Break his nose with my crystal gelato bowl?
All these options are tempting.
Getty isn’t the only one looking at me. Julian is watching me too.
He’ll stop his brother if Getty goes too far. However, he’s also waiting for my reaction to Getty’s taunts, another test of sorts.
“Julian pulls all the strings. He has every situation under control.”
This is true. He’s orchestrated every outing, every event. And I have no doubt he has been keeping a private scoresheet since my arrival.
Alice’s advice was to take the unexpected route. Since Julian expects to be in control, then Julian should be forced into a situation that’s out of his control.
“We should all go out,” I say. “We can forget about deals and marriage arrangements for one night. What’s the best spot for music and drinks?”
“Hell yes!” Tye, forgetting all about the insults, pounds a fist on the table in hearty agreement. “Let’s do it.”
“Count me in,” Fort says.
Julian’s brow furrows. “We’ll get a drink in Vigilance. The Alibi is the best spot.”
“Bo-ring,” Tye complains. “On a weeknight there will only be a handful of ancient geezers comparing prostates and playing fucking darts.”
“Laramie won’t be as dead,” Fort suggests. “I think the semester is almost over. No doubt the bars will be full of college girls trying to blow off steam.”
“I vote for that plan,” Tye says. “The college girls. The blowing. All of it.”
I glance at Julian. The creases in his forehead have deepened. I get an odd little thrill from knowing that Julian Tempesta has been outmaneuvered and he can’t think of a way out.
