Page 60 of Antihero

She took it, did a nervous little hit with her head ducked like anyone cared, gave a cough and a giggle. Another two delicate tiny coughs like hiccups. “Harsh, man. That shit is harsh.”

“Seriously, right?” B-Roll said. “It’s cool, though.” He pinched the joint, took a deep-ass drag, held it as he flicked the joint into the gutter, where it tumbled and sparked. “I know,” he said, in that drawn-in-breath-toke voice, “I’m a beast.” He blew out hard into the face of a passing gray suit, who scowled but kept walking, tail tucked. “Wait,” B-Roll said, leaning in at her, “if I’m Beast, what’s that make you?”

“Awright,” she laughed. “Awright. I see what you’re doing there.”

Lurking a few steps behind them, jostled by shoppers, Taz watched. He had no idea how B-Roll could do it, man. All that give-and-take. The words just came out like music. Taz had plenty of words, just could never get them outta his head in any kind of decent order. Again he thought about sweeping Blanca off somewhere but he could never get away with that with B-Roll around.

B-Roll grabbed Blanca’s arm, ducking them into an alcove at the Sephora store, the crowd sweeping past. Taz took a post across from them by the door, turned mostly away, pretending to check his phone. Blanca didn’t notice shit.

“What’s your name?” B-Roll asked.

“Blanca. You?”

“B-Roll.”

“B-Roll. B-Roll?” That giggle, man. Straight white teeth. “What kind of name’s B-Roll?”

“That’s my DJ name.”

“You’re a DJ?”

“Nah. Just messin’. It’s just my name. My boys, ya know? They’re crazy.”

“Crazy beasts like you?”

“Crazy beasts like me.” B-Roll gave that smile. He knew how to stand with his shoulders back, made his chest look even bigger than it was.

Taz had a sunken chest and no matter how much he lifted he couldn’t get pecs. His shoulders slumped, too. But still, he could work on standing better like B-Roll did.

B-Roll was about to make the move. After dozens of hunting expeditions, Taz could read it. He had Manny’s number on speed dial on his phone. One text and Manny would ping them an address they could use nearby, had crash pads all over the city for super-short-term rental. Like a human Airbnb, Manny was. Once Taz Snapped Finn-Finn and Big Mikey the location they’d all meet up and party.

Taz just wished it didn’t have to be with Blanca.

“Wanna hang some?” B-Roll said.

“When?”

“When? When? Dunno. You know what they say. No time like the present.”

Blanca blushed. It was real fucking cute, reminded Taz of when Other Blanca’d get all demure when she shot a toy soldier off its perch. Her hair always smelled like green apples. Taz’s stomach hurt even more now. He didn’t know why. He couldn’t remember if he’d taken his meds or if he’d eaten. Didn’t know what day it was either. Couldn’t remember much of anything.

Blanca blushed. “Now?”

“When else? When better? Carpe muthafuckin’ diem.”

She ground the toe of her sneaker into the sidewalk. “Wish I could. But I gotta go.”

For the first time, Taz’s stomach unclenched. B-Roll caught him staring, gave him a hard glare, and Taz split focus back to his phone. The text to Manny was ready to send, his thumb hovering.

“I got homework,” Blanca said.

“Homework,” B-Roll said, in a lame voice. “Homework.”

“Yeah, well.” She brushed bangs out of her face. They wisped back across her big eyes.

B-Roll reached for her face, fixed them bangs for her, and she looked up at him like she was waiting to receive the communion wafer. “Maybe I could see you some other time.”

Taz lowered the phone. They needed cash and content so he was supposed to be pissed off that Blanca had pushed off the hookup. But he was feeling something instead. Relief. Relief? Why that?