I’d said, “Oh, shit, man, you hit a bird.”
And he’d replied, “Yep.”
The end.
Once Lassen was out of earshot, I spoke my mind. “You know, Jake, you really need to get some friends your own age.”
“I know, but people my own age are way too young.”
“Well, then, maybe we can get you a puppy or something. Anything’s preferable to Lassen.”
“Give him a chance. I didn’t like Lassen when I first met him either, but he grows on you.”
“Hmm, interesting, you mean like flesh-eating bacteria?”
“Yes,” Jake grinned. “Just like that.”
“Alright, well, as long as you’ve got some strong antibiotics, who am I to complain, right?”
Jake plopped down at the kitchen table and proceeded to stare at me while I was rummaging through the refrigerator.
Lifting my head I asked, “Do you have a question? Or are you just admiring my bubble butt?”
“Actually, I do have a question,” he replied. “How’s your girlfriend going to feel about you macking on that woman back there?”
“My girlfriend?” I asked scrunching my nose. “Are you referring to Sophie?”
“I thought her name was Sophia.”
Now I had to think. Resting my jaw against the open refrigerator door, I wracked my brain for clarity. “No, I’m pretty sure it’s Sophie.”
“You’re pretty sure?” Jake laughed. “You might want to get it straight.”
“Why? She doesn’t care.”
“Oh, I guarantee you she cares.”
“Yeah, well, she’s not my girlfriend, so it matters not, my friend.”
“See, the problem with that isshethinks she’s your girlfriend. I caught her doodling something on a notepad the other day and once she left I saw that she’d written Sophia McKallister just above two entwined rings and an overload of puffy hearts. You might already be engaged, Jack Sparrow.”
I scoffed. Not with Sophie, I wasn’t. She was a trust fund groupie who drove from place to place, sleeping her way backstage because she didn’t have anything better to do with all that money. That’s where I’d found her a few weeks back, and we’d been getting it on at different concert stops ever since. But she was nowhere near marriage material.
“Trust me on this one. Sophie will never be a McKallister.”
“Sophia,” he corrected.
I shook my head, grinning at his persistence before tossing him a bottle of water from the fridge.
“Whatever. I need to break it off with her anyway. I need someone who’s smarter than me.”
“That shouldn’t be a problem.”
“You’d think, but the last time we were together, she was talking about seeing a psychic, so I made a joke, saying I wished she was clairvoyant. She got jealous, thinking Clair Voyant was an actual woman.”
Jake chuckled. “No way is that true.”
“Oh, but it is. And get this – she pronounces the ‘l’ in salmon. Who does that shit?”
