Page 26

“Yep.”

“That is very forward of you.”

“Drink it anyway.”

Because I had been raised with manners, and because my mouth felt like cotton had joined a union inside it, I took a few obedient sips. “Thank you, Moose Man.”

He shook his head and went back to polishing a glass.

My phone felt heavy in my pocket. Or maybe my entire body had become lighter, and the phone had stayed normal. Either way, I pulled it out and stared at the screen until Drift’s number appeared. I had put it in my contacts after the café, which was abso-totally normal. People saved numbers. People used phones to make calls. People did not panic because a kind man had given them a scrap of paper to stuff in their pocket.

My thumb hovered over the glass screen.

Do not call him. You are tipsy. You will be weird-er.

I was totally calling him.

Beer Phineas had concerns about loneliness and terrible impulse control. Beer Phineas also missed Croissant Man’s face, which seemed like a medical emergency. That sounded important.

I pressed the call button as soon as I found it. Dang thing wouldn’t stay put.

The phone rang once. That was it. Croissant Man had dumped me, taken custody of our imaginary children, and moved to another state.

“Hey, Phineas.”

“Oh, shoot! He answered!” The counter ignored me.

Drift’s baritone voice slipped into my ear. The sound made me sigh. Made my dick sigh too. My eyes closed on their own. For one strange second, I wanted to press the phone against my face like his voice might leak through the glass and into my brain.

“Hi,” I said breathlessly. “Hello. Good evening. Salutations. What’s up. Hola. Dats all the Japanese I know.”

“Salutations, huh?” There was a smile in his voice. “Somebody’s formal tonight.”

“I am in public.” I sat up straighter, which made the room tilt. “I am representing myself as a citizen.”

“Sounds important.” Something clinked on his end, metal against ceramic maybe. “Where are you, citizen?”

I glanced around. The antler lights, the scarred bar, the moose coaster, the couple still sharing fries, the bartender pretending not to listen.

“It’s a building.” I squinted. “It has four walls. Oh, and lotza booze!”

“A bar?”

I nodded then couldn’t stop nodding. “It’s gotta name too.”

“Which is?”

Antlers. Spider. Face. “Jawbones!” I snorted. Knew I’d nail it.

“Jawbones?” Drift’s tone changed, but my sloshy brain couldn’t focus. “You there alone?”

I looked at the empty stool beside me then at my loyal water. Where did Aleister go? How many drinks had I consumed? Three? Twenty? I stared up at the ceiling wondering if Aleister made it home. I should probably call him.

“You there, Phineas?”

“Yes, but Aleister Crawly has my back,” I managed, and I don’t know why I said it so loud, except that my tongue had lost all sense of tact and volume. “He left, though. Coward,” I added, scowling at the stretch of floor where my former multi-legged charge had vanished.

The other end of the line was silent for a half-second, just the gentle hiss of Drift’s breathing and maybe street sounds behind it.