Page 95 of Jinxes and Drumsticks

Then it ends, and it makes me want to give up music and just become Lillith’s little sex ritual pet.

Three little words hover on the edge of my tongue, but I don’t want to set myself up for a terrible week away by saying it first, so I say three different ones instead. “See you soon.”

“Yeah,” she says with a sad smile. “See you.”

I let every point of contact between us linger as long as I can before I depart from her and leave the shop. I get in the van and sit next to Fletcher. Wren and Satoshi sit in the back row, with the latter hugging the arm rest like Wren is going to give him rabies. Roxie is asking Oren what he wants from Starbucks while he answers some question other than the one they actually asked and flips through the book he just bought.

I glance at the shop just in time to see Lillith drop the shades on the store’s door, and then on the bay window. The van pulls away from the curb and I sigh, looking down at my phone after I fish it out of my pocket. Just as I do, a message comes through from Lillith.

It’s a link to a webpage. When I tap it, it opens a random Wikipedia page with the title “Occam’s Razor”. The text is a little dense on the page, but then one particular sentence stands out against the other ones.

The principle suggests that when two or more explanations are available for a phenomenon, the simplest one is usually the best.

We talked about Occam’s Razor when I marveled at what she was doing with a dumbass like me. And then again when putting off Googling it scored me the best head of my life. (Occam, you really are a homie.)

I smiled like an idiot down at my phone as I parse her meaning and then I send her a response. It might be a mistake to do it via text, but hey, it worked for asking her to be my girlfriend, right?

Yeah. It’s going to be a good trip.

ㅤ

Istare at Damien’s last message as the sun rises outside. Gloam snuggles into my side, slow-blinking at my face staring at the pale glow of my phone screen. My heart sits in my chest, simultaneously heavy and light all at once.

Yeah. I love you too, Little Bird.

He got it. I spent so much time worrying he wouldn’t get it, but he did. And now I’m lying in bed wondering if it would be silly for me to call him at five-thirty in the morning when he left less than twenty-four hours ago. Is it so bad for a girl to be disgustingly mushy with her hot drummer boyfriend?

As if I summoned him, a photo comes through in my messages. It takes me a few seconds to parse out what I’m seeing. It’s a photo from up on a second floor, a sort of top-down view of the couch. A dark head of hair propped up on a fist, the rest of the body slack in sleep. And Wren’s head propped up on the first person’s lap. A small waste basket sits next to her on the floor, along with some Gatorade and a half-empty bottle of water.

Wren got super car sick on the way up the mountain. Tons of switchbacks on the 330. And I think the altitude fucked with her too.

Oh no. She slept on the couch? Wren’s one of those people that once she starts puking she seriously can’t stop. :((

Well—when I went to bed, she was in her room. I’m guessing she came out to run to the toilet while Tosh was doing his insomnia bullshit.

Oh my god... Satoshi took care of her?

Appears so. It’s a shame too. I was looking forward to him shooting his shot before crashing and burning hard with Wren.

It’s so weirdly sweet. Like... I kind of love them for each other?

They definitely share an abrasiveness that works.

I smile to myself. He already has Wren pegged, which is amazing.

What are you doing up, sweetheart?

Admiring the message where you told me you love me.

Yeah?

Mhm. <3

You up for a phone call? Or is the sun too absent for that?

No. Call me.

My phone rings about ten seconds later, and I pick up at the first ring while Gloam chirps her complaints at the noise.