“That woman is staring at you.”
“I didn’t notice.”
“If her eyes were laser beams, you’d be disintegrated into smithereens by now.”
“What?” He laughs in only the way that Rush does. A little bit of Barney Rubble with a dash of Yosemite Sam. “You say the weirdest shit sometimes.”
“You know this, man!” I say in my infamous sing-song voice.
“But seriously, Bird, let me give you a bridge loan.”
A text comes into his cell phone he pays special attention to. I’m always curious as to who he has text conversations with because I fancy myself as his only friend, but of course I know that can’t be true. He probably just lets me feel like it is.
“No way,” I tell him again. “I’ll ask my dad for money before I take some from you.”
“You’ll ask your deadbeat father who doesn’t even call you on Christmas for money before me?”
“Yes, just because you’re rich doesn’t mean I should take your money. We’re friends and I want to keep it that way. Money has a way of getting in between friendships and I would literally die without yours.”
He stares quietly at me for a moment, and I’m not sure what he’s thinking. Maybe in his eyes, I’ve uncomfortably overstated how I feel about him just now, but it’s the truth.
“I’m not rich, Bird. There are players on my team that make three times what I do, and I would let nothing get in between our… friendship.”
I smile.
“Well, I don’t know how they’re living back in your hometown, but where I’m from you’re rich as donkey balls.”
He sends a quick text back to whoever’s been blowing up his phone and returns my smile with a grin of his own.
“I’ve got something to tell you.”
“Does it have something to do with that text you’re grinning at?”
“Maybe.”
“Well, spill it.”
“Mmm, I’m not just going to spill it.”
“So why bring it up?” I pout.
“You’re going to have to pay me for this information.”
“With what, dodo for brains? I’ve just been canned.”
“With a song. It’s karaoke night.”
This is not really a legitimate bet. This is him trying to cheer me up. I love him, but Rush couldn’t pull off a caper to save his life. He’s totally transparent. But I love to sing and he’s going to tell me whatever it is eventually anyway, so I gladly accept.
“Bet! What do you want to hear?”
He pauses for a moment.
“You’re okay to get up there, right?” Referring to my knee.
“When am I never all right? I’ve got this. What do you want to hear,paw-paw?”
A devious grin spreads across his handsome face.
