Page 94 of Wingmen

Elliot went bright red, and his eyes went straight to Dustin. Then Dustin went bright red, and they both looked down at their plates.

Dustin was sure Jordan was watching him suspiciously as he skewered a potato and put it in his mouth. But when he lookedup, Jordan was sipping his coffee and looking out the window. Dustin glanced at Elliot again. As their eyes met, the same bolt of electricity went through Dustin, and he smiled.

Elliot didn’t smile back. He seemed unhappy, and looked away. Frowning, Dustin waited for him to look back, and when he didn’t, he stopped trying to catch his eye, and finished his breakfast in silence.

They droppedJordan off at his hotel, and he said he would come by later. Elliot was in the backseat and didn’t move up when Jordan got out. Dustin looked at him in the mirror.

“Are you going back to your hotel?”

Elliot was looking out the window. “Don’t you need someone around to keep you in line?”

“Jordan’s coming by once he gets settled. I feel okay. You don’t have to come over if you don’t want to.”

“Do you think he thought anything was…off?”

Dustin’s heart nervously flip-flopped. “No, I don’t think so. Even if he did…he’s fine. He’s not gonna be weird about it.”

They drove for a few blocks. Elliot was quiet, looking out the window, and after a while, he said, “How long did it take you to get over your dad?”

Dustin was so caught off guard by the question he thought he might drive off the road in surprise.

“Was it, like, a year?” said Elliot. “Two years?”

Dustin stared at him in the mirror. Elliot stared back.

Okay. So they were doing this. Here. Now. In the car. Dustin put his eyes back on the road and checked what street they were on. Not far from his place. Not far enough to have this whole conversation without being interrupted. He saw the turn for his avenue coming, and made the executive decisionto skip it and keep driving. Elliot watched it go by with a frown.

“Where are we going?”

Dustin shrugged. “Wherever you want. Unless you’d rather go back to your hotel.”

Elliot held his gaze in the mirror. Then shook his head and looked out the window. “No. We can drive.”

They drove in silence for a long time, Dustin making turns at random while he tried to organize his thoughts into something that might actually be helpful. He couldn’t do it, so he asked Elliot about his uncle instead. His name was Salvador. He’d lived in Miami. He taught Elliot how to play pool, how to pick up girls, all the dirty slang. He’d had a hip replacement. Spent months stringing out his leftover prescription and then overdosed the first time he bought fentanyl on the street.

The first time.

If the little fucking moron had been harboring any plans to rationalize his way to the North Park Blocks sometime in the future, they evaporated as that hit him in the stomach like a closed fist.

“It happened last year,” said Elliot. “The anniversary was that same day you texted me and we sent all the dick pics.”

“Oh.” Dustin gripped the wheel and stared at the road in shock. “Okay. That’s…pretty fresh.”

“Is it? I feel like I should be able to get over it.”

Sighing, he pulled up to a light and put on the blinker to make another unnecessary turn. “Honestly, kid, I don’t know if you ever really get over it. I think it just gets easier to be under it.”

“Great. So I’m always gonna feel like this.”

“No, but…” The light changed. He still hadn’t organized this into anything helpful. “Look,” he said, “it’s gonna a big fucking mess. For a long time. And there’s no right amount of time for it to be a mess; it might be a while for you – I can’t tell you that. But I can tell you it hurts less often as time goes on. Notless, necessarily. But lessoften. And sometimes it comes out in really weird ways.”

“Like crying while getting your ass fucked.”

Dustin’s heart clenched. He met Elliot’s eye in the mirror. “Is that what that was?”

Elliot nodded and looked out the window.

He sighed and put his eyes back on the road. “I’m so fucking sorry.”