Little Dick seemed to be waiting for something; when it didn’t come, he perched on the edge of Jem’s desk and said, “Man, I got hammered last night.”
Jem caught a whiff of the energy drink—it smelled like an artificial flavor some genius had decided to call cotton candy, and while normally, yes, that would be awesome, right then, it made his head throb.He set the can aside.
“So drunk,” Little Dick said.He groaned.He took a slug of his energy drink.
Jem leaned back in his chair, and it squeaked.
“Wasted,” Little Dick said.He laughed.And then he looked at Jem.That look said,You owe me.Or maybe,I own you.They were pretty much the same for some guys.
So.That was the game.
“You look like you can handle a few drinks.”
“Bro, Ican.But last night, it was so wild.We were shit-faced.”
You can do this.This isn’t really you.You’re Jem Berger, and you have kept your shit together your whole life, and you’re smarter and faster and better than this asshole in every way possible.Jem Berger doesn’t suck ass.But for the next ten minutes, you’ve got to be Brian, because you need this job, because you bought a fucking house, because this is what adults do: they have jobs, they go to work, they take care of their families.And then, the words so bright they floated like sunspots in front of him: Because if they don’t, their families leave.
So, Jem laughed.“What’d you guys do?”
In the cubicle next to them, the chomping sounds cut off.And the silence that followed felt like it was focused in their direction.
“Do you know The Rope?”When Jem shook his head, Little Dick said, “It’s this bar.The service is shit—the waitresses are cunts, man—but the meat stays fresh, if you know what I mean.”Little Dick paused for a little laugh.Jem laughed with him.“They were doing dollar shots, and there was this Mexican girl, Jesus Christ, her tits.Fuckingmelons.”He made the words sound quasi Spanish, with a longo.“I totally dicked her down, too.B-plus.She was so fucking loose, man.”
Wow, said a voice inside Jem’s head.Just that: wow.And then, a heartbeat later, What the fuck am I doing?
But he grinned.“You win some, you lose some.”
“Right?That’s the fucking game.”
At that point, casters rattled, and Brian’s head popped up over the divider.He was grinning, but the eyes that fixed Jem were hard.“You talking about last night, Rick?”
“Yeah,” Little Dick said, voice flat.
“Nice.You’ve got to tell me about it.It sounds crazy.”
“If it sounds crazy,” Little Dick said, “then you already heard.And we’re having a private conversation.”
Color seeped into Brian’s face.He had a smile like one of those wooden puppets, and it stayed right where it was.But his eyes rolled toward Jem.“Right,” Brian said with a laugh.“Sorry, Rick.Didn’t mean to bother you.”
Little Dick stared at him, and then he made an impatient gesture, like he couldn’t understand what the fuck Brian was still doing bothering him.The color in Brian’s face deepened, and with another laugh, he dropped out of sight—a puppet whose strings had been cut.
“He is so fucking annoying,” Little Dick said, lowering his voice, but still loud enough that Brian must have heard him.
Jem picked up his energy drink and took a sip.He didn’t taste it.
“Not that bad, right?”Little Dick said.“I buy these things by the pallet.”
“It’s better than a Monster.”
“I know.Don’t buy any; I’ve got a shitload, and I’ll just bring one in for you.”
“That’d be fire,” Jem said.And then he did a classic move: he tipped his can toward Little Dick.Little Dick laughed, as though caught off guard, but he was grinning as he brought his can toward Jem’s and tapped them together.
“What are you doing this weekend?”Little Dick said.
“Working.For you.”
“Fuck that,” Little Dick said with a grin.“You should go out with me.There are bitches who wouldsquirtif I had a gay dude hanging out with me.Is that offensive if I call you gay?”
