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I force myself to go back and remember the good days when we were teens. I remember when Danny and I really became friends in middle school. A fancy name doesn’t matt
er much in public school, and we had to be allies against the bigger boys.
I remember the nights we spent in the pool house talking about our plans. I remember silly things like practicing spitting and learning to yo-yo. Then we got older, and Danny swiped his dad’s old Playboys. Then we discovered the wonders of the Internet.
Danny used to say I was his best friend. Hell, all the way up until he died, we were thick as thieves. I was good enough to be his friend. I am good enough for Drew. Even more so now.
Writing it all down helps me to ask the questions and explore the answers, even if I can never have the conversation with Danny in person. Even if I never know why he said what he did.
I also got that old roll of film Leslie gave me developed. More than anything, it was the final kick in the pants I needed to get in my truck and drive south.
Out of a roll of twenty-four, almost all of them were taken that summer at the lake house. Most were selfies of Leslie and Danny.
It hurt seeing him so young and happy at first, but after a while, it made me smile to remember him having fun, acting silly. Him with his arms around Leslie. Him with his hands under her bikini top. Asshole, I laugh to myself, setting them in a stack to the side.
The ones I cherish the most are of Drew and me. It’s weird because Leslie took shots of us… I guess they’re pretty intimate. Times when we didn’t know she was watching.
My favorite is one taken from behind Drew. I don’t know why I didn’t see Leslie take it. I’m facing Drew and her back is to the camera. Her bikini top hangs off one finger, leaving her topless facing me.
I chuckle to myself when I look at it. My expression is complete infatuation. I’m smiling because my dog is climbing a hill like it did pretty much that entire summer looking at her pretty breasts, touching them, making her mine.
In another shot, Drew’s lying on her stomach on a towel, and my arm is over her lower back. My face is right on her cute little round ass, and it looks like my teeth are against her skin. Yeah, I’d bite that ass.
In another, we’re sitting side by side, and Drew’s looking up at me. So much love is in my girl’s eyes. She’s so beautiful. It cements my resolve. I don’t want to grow old and forget these things. I want to learn to forgive myself. I want to forgive Danny.
I don’t know why Leslie took these photos or what she was planning to do with them, but I’m glad she gave them to me. I guess I understand now how everybody knew we were a couple. We didn’t do a very good job hiding it.
I’ll just go on and admit it, the other reason I’m ready to head back south is to show up those assholes who always treated me like dirt. It kicks ass that my family is so fucking rich. I’m not going to lie about it. I’m also not going to be a dick. I’m just going to take care of business.
I don’t have to put up with bullies or their bullshit anymore, and I’m ready to own who I am and who I love.
When I turned on my phone before I left the house, it wouldn’t stop buzzing with texts from Drew for what felt like two whole minutes. I sat down on the marble floor of my enormous foyer and read them all, laughing at the words, imagining her pretty face saying them.
Some twisted my guts. Several made me rub the pain away from my stomach. I never want to make Drew sad. I change my mind about calling her. I want it to be a surprise. I got the message loud and clear. Come home…
I’m driving all day.
It’s exactly what I intend to do.
Chapter 33
Drew
“Where have I been hiding?” I shout in Ruby’s ear as we make our way through The Red Cat.
The place is ancient, with red shag carpet, a jukebox that plays real records, and lava lamps in the corners. The bar is carpeted as well, and it’s packed solid.
“I told you this place was making a comeback!” She shouts in my ear so loud it tickles.
I stick my finger there and mouth an Ow! to her. She only laughs. I follow her closer to the bar, doing my best to avoid the overt stares of a few male patrons I don’t recognize.
“Ruby Roo!” A loud voice hollers over the crowd.
Ruby spins around frowning. “Dammit to hell! I hate when he does that Scooby-Doo shit.” Dagwood Magee slides up beside us, pushing into the bodies to lean on the bar. “And Drew too!”
“Oh my God.” I start to laugh.
Ruby is not smiling. “What the hell are you doing here? And stop yelling that in public. You’re fucking with my hustle.”
