"What?"
"There's an accident on the bridge. Nolan doesn't know when he'll be back."
I watch her expression fall. "Oh…"
"Hey, it's okay. I'm sure it won't take too long. Why are you so worried about it?"
"I don't know. I guess I'm worried that eventually, the bridge will buckle under the weight of everyone stuck on it, and Nolan's Jeep will become his watery tomb. After his slow and painful death, of course."
"Jesus," I say, shaking my head. "That's dark, Ripley. Get your shit together; he'll be fine."
I lean in and kiss her again, feeling Elias watching us from the other side of the room. He threw on his jersey and helmet and called it a hockey player costume for the second year in a row, but you can't dress up as yourself and call it a costume.
He doesn't bother looking away when my eyes meet his, instead staring right at me while drinking straight from the bottle of gin in his hand.
"Hey, Dax!"
"What's up, Brayden?"
I kiss Saige quickly and then get up; Brayden passes me the joint in his mouth, and I take a hit before handing it back.
"So, you have a girlfriend or something?" he asks. "Is that why I haven't seen you out at parties or at the bars all fucking month?"
"No…fuck no. No, it's um…I've been out," I lie. "Just because you haven't seen me doesn't mean I haven't been out." Fuck, I hope it's loud enough that she didn't hear me.
Camryn appears next to him, crossing her arms in front of her. I've fucked them both—separately and together. "Seriously, Dax," she says. "Are you boring now or something? Where the hell have you been? It's not a party without you."
"Pfft, fuck you. You're boring. I'm at a party right now, aren't I?"
"Yeah, we'll see…" she says. "Maybe we can make it a party."
"Dax is boring now!" Josiah shouts, inserting himself in the conversation. "I've texted him every fucking weekend, and he's always like,Sorry, bro, next week.Every fucking week. I'm going to be honest—we've all been talking shit about you."
Brayden and Camryn both laugh.
"No, but it's true, though," Brayden says.
"Thanks a fucking lot, man."
"Boo!" Josiah says. "You suck, Dax. You had a reputation to uphold. Hey, I wanted to say hi to Elias—where is he?"
"Just look for the big motherfucker in a hockey helmet, same as last year."
"Cool. When I come back, we're taking shots, all right?"
"Yeah, for sure."
They walk away, and, sighing, I sink back into my spot on the couch. I guess I have been kind of boring. That's the last fucking thing I want to be. If I'm going to be known as the guy who brought shame to the Hawthorne family, then I'm going to be known as the guy who had the best fucking time doing it.
"Dax?"
"What?" It comes out sharper than intended, but I'm low-key triggered.
"Are…you okay?" Saige asks. "You don't look happy anymore."
She heard. She looks fucking devastated; I can't take it.
"It's not you. It's existential, baby; don't worry about it." I open the camera on my phone again and start trying to scrub the lipstick off with the sleeve of my costume, but it isn't doing much good. I don't get how this shit can so easily end up all over my fucking face, but then be so difficult to remove afterward. "What the hell is in this shit? Fuck…"
