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THIS IS NOT A DATE
OCTOBER 10TH 2000
JOEY
Don’t askme how it had happened but sitting on my boss’s couch in front of a roaring fire, with a full stomach and an empty plate on my lap, with his daughter’s shoulder touching mine, was exactly how I found myself ending what had, otherwise, been a very shitty day.
Not only had I cooked for the girl, but she had somehow wrangled me into bringing in buckets of coal and slack, and lighting the fire for her, too.
Persuasion was certainly a skill that Molloy had honed to perfection.
Knowing that I shouldn’t be here, but not wanting to eat and run like a prick, I decided on half an hour being a reasonable amount to time to linger.
“Right.” When the thirty minutes was up, I set my plate down on the arm of the couch and slapped my thighs. “I’m going home.”
“No, you’re not,” she grumbled, hooking her arm through mine.
“Molloy.”
“No.” Shifting closer, she rested her cheek on my shoulder and returned her attention to the film playing on the television. “Now shush.”
“I can’t be here when your parents get home,” I argued, trying and failing to pry my arm free from her freakishly strong hold.
“Why not?”
“Because your dad will flip the fuck out.”
“No, he won’t,” she scoffed. “We’re friends, Joe. I’m allowed to have friends over anytime I want.”
“We’re not friends, Molloy. And stop snuggling me.”
“Friends snuggle.”
“Friends do not fucking snuggle.”
“I snuggle with Casey all the time.”
“Well, I can assure you that I have never snuggled with Podge.”
“Then you can practice with me.” Shifting closer, she curled up in a small ball, and burrowed her head under my arm. “See. You’re already a pro.”
“Okay, how is this normal?” I demanded, glaring at my arm that she had somehow managed to drape over her shoulders. “You’re a real slick mover, aren’t ya?”
“Just chill, Joe,” she coaxed, resting her head against my chest now, as she draped her arm over my stomach. “Watch the film.”
“I don’t watch films.”
“Yes, you do.”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, you do now.”
“Fine.” I blew out a frustrated breath. “What’s the film called?”
“It’s a grisly horror calledWrong Turnabout this group of twenty-something-year-olds who take a wrong turn and end up getting hunted by these really creepy cannibal people. It’s all blood and gore, with minimal sexy time, but it’s a good movie.”
“Kind of like how I took a wrong fucking turn tonight and ended up in a nightmare,” I drawled sarcastically. “Not quite as grisly as your film, but once my boss gets home and sees me snuggling his daughter, I’m sure it’ll be a bloodbath.”
