She folded her arms. “I don’t want to talk about it. I have some regrets. I have nothingbutregrets. Which is another way I’m not like Cary.”
“You guys look different on the outside,” Mikey said. “Different packaging. But you’re a lot alike on the inside.”
“How?” Shiloh asked. “Be specific.”
“You’re both smart. You’re both headstrong and... what’s a nice way to say ‘arrogant’?”
“There is no nice way to say ‘arrogant.’”
Mikey shrugged with his eyebrows, like this wasn’t his problem. “Also, you laugh at the same jokes.”
“We laugh atyourjokes.”
“That must be why we all got along so well.”
“Hmmm,” Shiloh said doubtfully.
“You’re not putting me off till Christmas,” Mikey said. “I’m back in town now, and we’re blood brothers.”
Twenty-Eight
before
“We should be blood brothers,” Mikey said.
“No,” Cary said.
Shiloh made a face. “Haven’t you heard of AIDS?”
“We don’t haveAIDS,” Mikey said. “Has anyone in this car even had sex?”
Shiloh was sixteen. She hadn’t done anything. She tried not to look at Cary to note his expression. They were on the way home from Family Fun Time, a big arcade out west. Cary was driving, and Shiloh was squeezed between them.
“People in movies are always becoming blood brothers and getting invited to circle jerks,” Mikey complained.
“What kind of movies are you watching?” Cary asked.
Shiloh piped up—“What’s a circle jerk?”
“No,” Cary said.
Mikey elbowed her. “I’ll tell you later. And for the record, I’m not proposing one. I’m just saying it would be nice to beasked. It would be nice to be invited intosomesacred ritual.”
Shiloh smiled at him. “Is this because we just sawDead Poets Society?”
“Yes,” Cary said.
Mikey turned toward them in his seat. “Wouldn’t you like to be tapped into a secret society? What if all the other cool people are in one, and we don’t know? You guys could be in one and not tell me. Are you already blood brothers?”
“No,” Cary said.
Shiloh raised her palms and shoulders. “We might have taken a blood oath not to tell you...”
“Fuckme,” Mikey said.
“What do you think people do in secret societies?” Shiloh wondered aloud. “I don’t think anyone actually reads poetry.”
“It’s for rich people,” Cary said. “They build bonds to enable future corruption and collusion.”
