That’s that. Scout’s off the hook and
so am I. Now I can have a perfectly wild weekend with my six
girlfriends and not worry what he’s thinking every time I sink back
another penis-colada Jell-O shot.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SCOUT
“Rox, you cannot be serious—she’s there by
herself?” The image of her there alone, on this of all weekends,
forks through my gut.
“Um, hello, six girls stranded on a highway
during a blizzard is not an option, Scout. There’s no way we’d make
it. I’m one of the drivers and I’m calling uncle. I can’t put this
entire group of women in danger so that we can all play pecker
piñata while dancing around in our underwear. What the hell am I
supposed to do? You think I’m happy that she’s stuck there
alone?”
“I have to go. I’m her best friend. We had a
shitty week of no contact and now she’s alone a week before her
wedding at what’s supposed to be one of the best weekends of her
life.”
“Oh, my God. Cue the barf bag. You are so
friggin’ superhero I’m going to vomit. Seriously, do you think she
can’t handle a weekend alone? She’s a big girl. She’ll be fine
without you, Prince Charming. Anyway, shouldn’t her fiancé be the
one swooping in to save the day?” Rox hits me with her gift of
sarcasm.
“Fuck you. I’m just doing what I do with
her.”
“Which is what, exactly? Torment her? Make
her think you want her, then never man up with any moves? You think
you’re helping her?”
And, yes. She’s playing her hand rather
well.
“God, you can be a bitch. Just let me love
her in my own way, all right?”
“That’s the problem, Scout: it’s your way. You never give her more than that. It’s like a sneak preview
of the greatest movie…you’ve got your mouth full of popcorn and
that super-sized Coke ready to guzzle and then…bam! you shut
the damn movie off before it even begins.
“Do you not get that? Do you not see the way
she looks at you? Do you get that the only reason she’s marrying
that smear of smegma is because you’ve never so much as offered to
take her on a date? Oh, but you couldn’t stop that steamy kiss at
her fitting, now could you, Romeo?”
“Would she have wanted that? With
me…dating?”
Do I sound confused? Yeah, I’m pretty sure I
am. Because Roxanne’s commentary is hitting me like multiple blows
to the jaw.
“Hang on. Can you unzip your pants for me
and text me a package-selfie? When exactly in the last fifteen
years did you get the nut removal surgery? How have you bagged as
many girls as you have and not get that the one standing in front
of you is the one ? God, Scout, you’re like a textbook idiot.
Oh, here you are on Wikipedia—it’s the page called
head-in-ass.”
I’m feeling like living proof as she
railroads every truth I already know.
“She’s always with someone else, always has
a new boyfriend…hell, she’s fucking engaged, Rox.”
“Well, why do you think that is,
shit-for-brains?”
“I can’t be the one who ruins her chance at
a happy married life with kids, Rox.”
“Then stop being a douchebag and don’t…what
are you not getting? Be in her happy married life. Have the
kids with her. Be the man. Be the baby-daddy. Is this really so
complicated for you? She moved across the country to work with you,
sure, but she moved across the country because you, darling Scout,
asked her to. Get it? You asked her. Not even on one knee, mind
you.”
“I can’t ask her not to get married.”
“Why not?” she says with an indulgent laugh
chasing her words.
“I’m leaving. I have to get to her—I can’t
let her stay there stranded. She doesn’t even know you guys aren’t
coming because there’s no service up there—she’s going to feel like
everyone forgot.”
“Listen to me, guns. If you go there, then
you better not leave her stranded. Do you read me, sarge? Do I have
to crowbar this into your brain? Don’t fuck this up.”
*
What should have taken me three hours
so am I. Now I can have a perfectly wild weekend with my six
girlfriends and not worry what he’s thinking every time I sink back
another penis-colada Jell-O shot.
CHAPTER TWELVE
SCOUT
“Rox, you cannot be serious—she’s there by
herself?” The image of her there alone, on this of all weekends,
forks through my gut.
“Um, hello, six girls stranded on a highway
during a blizzard is not an option, Scout. There’s no way we’d make
it. I’m one of the drivers and I’m calling uncle. I can’t put this
entire group of women in danger so that we can all play pecker
piñata while dancing around in our underwear. What the hell am I
supposed to do? You think I’m happy that she’s stuck there
alone?”
“I have to go. I’m her best friend. We had a
shitty week of no contact and now she’s alone a week before her
wedding at what’s supposed to be one of the best weekends of her
life.”
“Oh, my God. Cue the barf bag. You are so
friggin’ superhero I’m going to vomit. Seriously, do you think she
can’t handle a weekend alone? She’s a big girl. She’ll be fine
without you, Prince Charming. Anyway, shouldn’t her fiancé be the
one swooping in to save the day?” Rox hits me with her gift of
sarcasm.
“Fuck you. I’m just doing what I do with
her.”
“Which is what, exactly? Torment her? Make
her think you want her, then never man up with any moves? You think
you’re helping her?”
And, yes. She’s playing her hand rather
well.
“God, you can be a bitch. Just let me love
her in my own way, all right?”
“That’s the problem, Scout: it’s your way. You never give her more than that. It’s like a sneak preview
of the greatest movie…you’ve got your mouth full of popcorn and
that super-sized Coke ready to guzzle and then…bam! you shut
the damn movie off before it even begins.
“Do you not get that? Do you not see the way
she looks at you? Do you get that the only reason she’s marrying
that smear of smegma is because you’ve never so much as offered to
take her on a date? Oh, but you couldn’t stop that steamy kiss at
her fitting, now could you, Romeo?”
“Would she have wanted that? With
me…dating?”
Do I sound confused? Yeah, I’m pretty sure I
am. Because Roxanne’s commentary is hitting me like multiple blows
to the jaw.
“Hang on. Can you unzip your pants for me
and text me a package-selfie? When exactly in the last fifteen
years did you get the nut removal surgery? How have you bagged as
many girls as you have and not get that the one standing in front
of you is the one ? God, Scout, you’re like a textbook idiot.
Oh, here you are on Wikipedia—it’s the page called
head-in-ass.”
I’m feeling like living proof as she
railroads every truth I already know.
“She’s always with someone else, always has
a new boyfriend…hell, she’s fucking engaged, Rox.”
“Well, why do you think that is,
shit-for-brains?”
“I can’t be the one who ruins her chance at
a happy married life with kids, Rox.”
“Then stop being a douchebag and don’t…what
are you not getting? Be in her happy married life. Have the
kids with her. Be the man. Be the baby-daddy. Is this really so
complicated for you? She moved across the country to work with you,
sure, but she moved across the country because you, darling Scout,
asked her to. Get it? You asked her. Not even on one knee, mind
you.”
“I can’t ask her not to get married.”
“Why not?” she says with an indulgent laugh
chasing her words.
“I’m leaving. I have to get to her—I can’t
let her stay there stranded. She doesn’t even know you guys aren’t
coming because there’s no service up there—she’s going to feel like
everyone forgot.”
“Listen to me, guns. If you go there, then
you better not leave her stranded. Do you read me, sarge? Do I have
to crowbar this into your brain? Don’t fuck this up.”
*
What should have taken me three hours
Similar Books
