Lance throws his arms in the air and stomps towards the double doors to walk out onto the balcony. But the fists continue their attack.
“You eat pussy cats. Daddy says that’s why Alana likes you.” She blinks, red-faced and teary-eyed at Alana. “Is that true?”
Jesus Christ on a bike, are you kidding me right now? My girlfriend gives a side smile. “One day you’ll appreciate a partner who eats cats. But he would never hurt Midge.”
The little girl doesn’t seem to believe her. She shakes her head and the pigtails whack her in the eyes which makes her squeal in pain. “He’s a monster. He sucks rocks with Uncle Uri and that’s really bad for your teeth.”
Oh my God! Uri pulls his hoodie over his head and yanks the string so tightly it completely covers his face. Am I dead? I’m pretty sure I’m about to die of embarrassment. But Alana seems completely unphased as she continues to stroke the little girl’s cheek.
“One day you’ll understand but tell your dad you need to get your hearing checked.” She slides the little girl a cookie, “Now, Maria. Go back upstairs and kick Drew’s ass at Mario Cart.” She taps Maria on the nose and smiles, then turns her attention to the kids still on the stairs. “Hey Ian, I don’t mind being sad for a little while, because it means you lived.”
The blond one with short hair flashes her a huge smile. There’s a softness between them, and something in my brain itches like what I’m watching is important, but I can’t place why.
Once the kids are upstairs, Alana flashes me a wicked smile. “So… you suck rocks with Uri?” Uri pulls his knees to his chest and whimpers. I don’t deny it. Alana walks to the other side of the bar and smirks. “How many of my friends do you have a history with?”
“In this room?” I look around. “No one else. I have been solicited by others, and I did hit on Joey to show him I wasn't hitting on Jenny.” Alana’s eyes scan my body and then lazily look over at Joey.
“Did he make you question your sexuality?"
“Your boy is, objectively speaking, hot,” he says and then takes a drink from his glass. Jenny puts her head on his shoulder and he kisses it, whispering something to her that makes her smile.
“I don’t approach anyone. They come up to me.” I grab a piece of cheese off the plate.
“Can confirm.” A mumbled affirmation comes from the balled-up hoodie on the couch.
“And why is it you didn’t approach anyone else first?”
I lean over the counter and into her space. “Because none of them were you.”
The room erupts in claps and ‘good answer,’ very Family Feud style. There’s the tiniest curl in the corner of her lip. Score!
“Is there anyone in this room I have to worry about if they approach you?”
I give the room an appraisal once over. Unfortunately for him, Lance decides to choose now to re-enter the room, and I smirk. “No. But I’d be willing to give Lance a hand job if that meant he’d like me.” This earns a deeper frown from Lance and chuckles from the rest of the crew.
Izzy claps her hands together. “Oh my God that would be great. Sometimes I’m feeling gross and all acid refluxy when Lance wants some attention. Is there a number I could call, a service you provide?”
I laugh. “Anything for a pregnant woman.”
But Lance's eyes blaze, and his jaw might snap off. “Fuck you,” he growls and stomps off back to the balcony. This feels different from his other attacks. It’s only two words, but it makes my stomach queasy.
Alana pats me on my shoulder. “Don’t let Lance get you down. Besides, you’ve only got two more days left of your boyfriend free trial.”
“What?” Jenny jumps up, “That’s insane.” She comes over and makes jazz hands around my face. “Look at him!” She puts on an invisible headset and taps her ear. “Ring Ring, this is the Good Boyfriend department.” Alana blinks at her until Jenny motions, “Answer the phone.”
Alana puts her hand to her ear. “Hello?”
“Hello.” Jenny changes her voice to sound more like a telemarketer. “I am pleased to offer you an unlimited extension on your free trial from the Good Boyfriend Department. I see here looking at your records, that you’ve got stellar social credits due to all the support you’ve given over the years. Please take this unlimited extension as a gesture of good will.”
There is something vaguely familiar about Jenny and the way she treats Alana. I scan over the faces in the room, and a new sinking feeling hits me. Old fears, almost forgotten, rise back in my mind—the way Waverly curls up next to Lukas, the way Izzy moves off the couch to go tend to Lance after the joke has passed.
Alana says something, but I miss it. Whatever it is, the group starts laughing. But nausea grips my organs, and I need to turn away. Deep breaths. One, two, three, in and out. Images of our final days so many years ago, connections that click into place and I can finally see the whole puzzle.
Years of press training come into full force right now as I smile and laugh with the group. Conversations jump from person to person, and I can’t keep track. I only listen for the change in topic, something new to distract the group. Once everyone is talking about some trending video that will be irrelevant in three days, I reach for Alana’s wrist and give it a squeeze. Her eyebrows crease when she looks at me.
I almost choke on the words, “We need to talk.” She laces her fingers with mine as we walk upstairs.
The kids are all in another bedroom yelling “That’s not fair!” and other cries of outrage. But we continue up a third flight of stairs to the master bedroom. The room is large, with classic neutral designs, a custom bed frame and a walk-in closet with motion sensitive lighting.
