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“You’re going to fucking WHAT?” I suddenly wished my tattoo gun was a real one because with that one sentence, Preppy was walking into dangerous fucking territory.
“She’s cool as shit, so I’m going to take her out. Maybe, a movie or something. The drive-in is playing some scary paranormal thing, and chicks fucking love that shit. Makes ’em all cuddly,” Preppy said, hugging himself with his arms.
“Like fuck you are.” Not only was he not taking her out, I got the impression that scary wasn’t exactly Doe’s favorite genre. The girl’s been scared enough in real life.
“Dude, I’m not going to fuck her. Unless that’s cool with you. In which case, I will most definitely fuck her.”
I stood from my stool. It rolled back and crashed against the wall. “Not. A Fucking. Chance.” The thought of his hands on her made my stomach twist.
“You don’t even like her,” he barked. “Besides, you don’t know anything about her. And that’s your fault because she may not know a lot about herself, but the little she does know you haven’t even bothered to ask her about.”
He had a point, but Preppy didn’t know that there was a reason for that, and I planned to keep that reason to myself for the time being.
“What exactly would you like for me to talk to her about? Because the where do you come from, what’s your name, thing doesn’t exactly apply in her case.”
Preppy huffed and linked his fingers together behind his neck. “I don’t know. You could ask her something simple, like maybe, how she likes her sandwiches or something.”
“Sandwiches. You want me to ask her about sandwiches?”
“Why the fuck not? Everyone likes a delicious sandwich, and talking about them is better than talking about the heavy shit you seem to be carrying around these days.”
This is why Preppy was my best friend. He saw right through me.
“I know Max is important. I know we need to get her back, but until then, you still have a life to live, man. And talking to the girl, who for all intents and purposes is living in our house, isn’t going to get in the way of that.”
That’s what you think.
“Have you even fucked her yet? I mean, the chick sleeps in your bed and shit. What the fuck is that all about?”
“That’s none of your fucking business,” I warned. He was crossing a line.
He rolled his eyes. “I’ll take that as a no. Maybe, that’s why you’ve been so fucking grumpy since you got out. Maybe you just need to get some ass. Get laid. Get all up in there before your dick shrivels up and falls the fuck off.”
“I’ve gotten laid since I’ve gotten out, so shut the fuck up about it. This isn’t about liking her or about fucking her. This is about me saying NO and you listening to me for once!”
“King, you’ve been my best friend since the dinosaurs roamed the earth, so listen to me when I tell you that you look at her like you want to fuck her brains out, but you treat her like she’s garbage under your shoe. It’s not cool, man. You’re the one who decided to keep her here, which wasn’t the brightest idea to begin with, so let me have a little fun with her for fuck’s sake.”
“This is about a debt that needs to be paid,” I said, unconvincingly.
“Oh come on! We both know she didn’t take anything. And since when is it up to you to dole out life lessons on who needs to pay for what? You some kind of life coach now? Besides, she’s not your property. She’s a person, not a fucking car.”
“That’s rich coming from you.” I’ve witnessed Preppy doing things that made even my skin crawl, but if he was going to throw my shit in my face, then I was going to throw his shit in his.
“Seriously, she isn’t yours. You can’t just take her.”
“Yes, she is mine, and I did just take her. She sleeps in my bed, doesn’t she? Next to me. I may not have fucked her, but it was me she turned to when she wanted to get off the other night, and me who gave her what she needed. So no, I haven’t fucked her, yet. But the answer is still no, you can’t fucking take her out,” I said through gritted teeth, I could feel my veins tighten as my blood pressure sky-rocketed.
Preppy cocked his head to the side and smiled. A recognition of some sort settled over his face. “Well, she’s not my property. She’ s my friend. So, if I can’t take her out, then you have to take her. I’m not doing this for me. I’m doing it for her. She’s been through some shit, and we both know what that’s like. The kid deserves a break. A little fucking fun.”
“Fuck no. I’m not going to fucking date her. And this isn’t up for debate. No date. No nothing. Just fucking drop it.” For the first time in my life, I felt like punching Preppy. He’s never coaxed that kind of anger from me before.
“Man, get your fucking head out of your ass. She’s just a confused kid. Either you take her, or you let me take her. I may call you Boss-Man, but we’re friends, and that doesn’t mean you can make all my decisions for me. You may call the shots, but I’m still my own person. I’m not asking you here. I’m telling you.”
“Fine!” I shouted. Throwing my arms up in the air. “Take her out on a fucking date. What the fuck do I care anyway? Go! Have a fucking blast!”
I sat back down on my stool and pretended to fiddle with my equipment. Why the fuck I was getting so riled up to begin with was beyond me.
Maybe, I’d just forgotten how to interact with people who weren’t wearing orange jumpsuits or correctional officer uniforms.
“Awesome!” Preppy hopped from one foot to the other. “I’m going to go iron my good bow tie.”
“Prep?”
“Yeah, Boss-Man?”
“It’s six in the fucking morning.”
“And?”
“You want to take her out on Saturday right?”
“Yeah.”
“It’s Monday.”
“Ah.”
“So how about you go wipe the fucking blow from under your nose and get some fucking sleep. Iron your good bow tie tomorrow.” Preppy may not have to listen to me, but the need to tell him what to do would never go away.
I’d forgotten while I was away that Preppy was one hell of a partier.
We both were.
Or, I used to be.
Before Max.
Before prison.
Before her.
Preppy wiped the powder from under his nostrils and rubbed it onto his gums.
“Yes, sir,” Preppy said with a mock salute. He turned to leave.
“And Prep?” I called out.
“Yeah, Boss?” he asked, stopping mid-stride.
“You’re taking her out as her friend only. You got that?”
“I got that.”
“Good. Because if you so much as touch her, I’ll fucking kill you.”
Chapter Sixteen
Doe
“What is all this?” I asked, staring down at the plate upon plate of sliced meats and cheese.
“Sandwich stuff.” King said, tossing me a roll.
“Yes, I can see that. But why are we making sandwiches on the dock?”
I wondered what his ulterior motive was. King didn’t seem like the type to picnic on the dock, no matter what the situation. Plus, in the entire time I’d been staying with King, he’d never once made a meal for me.
Or even eaten a meal with me.
“Because it’s a nice day to be outside, and because who the fuck doesn’t like sandwiches?” King sat on one of the plastic chairs surrounding wooden table that was screwed to the dock so it wouldn’t fly away during a storm. “And Preppy said…I don’t fucking know, just go with it.” King loaded his roll with salami and cheese and dug out a huge scoop of mayo from the jar with a spatula.
“That’s enough mayo to choke a horse,” I said, carefully selecting turkey and bacon for my own sandwich.
“Have you actually seen a horse choke from ingesting too much mayo?” he asked.
“I very well could have. I just don’t remember.” I grabbed a handful of Cheetos from the bag and smushed them into the top slice of bread with both hands. King pulled the other chair up along side his until the arms were touching and motioned for me to sit down.
And then OUR arms were touching.
“So what’s it like?” King asked, popping the top off a beer and handing it to me.
“What’s what like?” I asked, setting my paper plate in my lap.
“Not remembering anything. I keep thinking about what that would be like and I can’t imagine it.”
“It’s…” I searched my brain for the words but only one popped into my mind over and over, “…empty.”
“You’re a lot of things, pup, but empty isn’t one of them.” King tucked an unruly strand of hair behind my ear.
“Oh yeah? Then, you tell me what I am, because I can’t think of anything that doesn’t have to do with me losing my memory.” I took a bite of my lunch that was so big I could barely close my mouth around it.
King laughed. “Well, for starters…you’re kind of quirky.”
“Quirky?”
“Pup, did you or did you not just put Cheetos on your sandwich?”
