A new song comes on, and I squeal. “Oh my fucking God. This ismy jam.”
“I Don’t Want To Wait”by Paula Cole just started up.
“Damn fucking straight it is,” Frankie says. He raises a brow, and I nod. He tosses me a wooden spoon.
I catch it and strut to him, spoon held to my mouth. I break out singing after the last do-da-do-do-doo. My heart clenches as I sing the line about her son growing up without getting to know his father. My mom played this song a lot when I was little. She was huge intoDawson’s Creek.
I push the heartache away and spin toward Jed and Graham. I point to them and belt out the angsty, impatient chorus, all yearning and bigDawson’s Creekfeelings.
Frankie slides in next to me with a pair of tongs and joins in. “Sorrrrrrry,” we sing together.
“What even is this song?” Graham asks.
Frankie and I freeze.
“Excuse me fucking what now?” Frankie asks.
“Youths these days,” I sputter.
“It’s blasphemy.”
“An outrage.”
“No taste.”
Jed’s lips are twitching so hard at my and Frankie’s indignation he looks like he’s having a fit.
I plop down at the table, slightly out of breath from my dancing and singing. “You really don’t know that song?”
Graham shakes his head slowly, biting his lip against his amusement.
“It’s like I don’t even know you,” I say theatrically.
“I mean…” Jed says.
I glower at him, and he bursts out laughing. Which has me instantly smiling. I can’t even stay fake mad at him. I just love when he laughs too much. He does it so often now.
“This is…really cool what you have here,” Graham says softly.
I glance at him and catch him staring at his beer. “Yeah. Everyone here is good people.”
He looks at Frankie, following my roommate as he bustles around the kitchen. “Yeah. And you’re all really yourselves.” He meets my gaze. “You know? No judgment.”
Huh. Interesting. “I mean, we judge. It’s just in a loving way. Like you should hear them talk about me and how I like pineapple on my pizza. You’d think I admitted I could strike out Babe Ruth.”
“You like pineapple on pizza?” Graham perks up. “Ifucking love pineapple on pizza.”
I lean forward. “No way.”
“Yeah.” He nods, his whole body shaking with the force of it. “It’s bomb.”
“Yassss, bro.” I hold out my fist, and he dabs it.
Jed’s sitting across from us, fighting a smile. He takes a swig of his beer. “You two are…something. I have no words.”
I shoot him a wink, then direct my attention back to Graham. “But, yeah. I love these guys.” I pause and then add, “Everything about them. They’re all pretty damn awesome.”
“And you’re not…you know…weirded out that Frankie is gay?” he says to his beer.
