“Hi!” Tobe’s eyes crinkled as they fell on Oscar, mouth splitting into a grin. “You must be the reason I’ve had to take two Ibuprofens a day these last few months. I’m Tobe.”
“Oscar,” Oscar replied, shaking Tobe’s hand. “I apologize for the headaches. I’ve tried to keep him occupied.”
Nice one, Casafuckingnova.Maybe they would all think Oscar was some jerk who thought he was the center of Aaron’s universe, an idiot who thought a little too highly of himself, who’d leave Aaron in tears at a train station and go marry someone else at the end of the book. But Oscar had always thought he was more like Elio than Oliver, and he didn’t want to be either one of them anymore. He didn’t want to say goodbye. He didn’t want to have a summer of love. He wanted a lifetime of it.
“And he’s good at it, too,” Joe said then, cutting into the tension. “Because we haven’t seen Aaron’s face inat leasta week. Iwishhe was giving us headaches with all his Oscar stories. Coop misses you, Ronnie.”
Oscar eased as Marta and Tobe began to laugh, Riley grinning, still holding Luigi. Joe flashed Oscar a subtle wink and walked past Aaron and the rest, patting him on the shoulder.
“I’ve brought a concerning amount of candy. Where shall I put it?” he asked.
“On the table is fine. What’s everybody drinking?”
Half an hour later, they were all seated around the table, and Tobe was already red in the face, arguing with Marta over her luck and how nobody could possibly keep getting all the green and yellow and red lots in Monopoly without cheating, while Riley argued that Monopoly was in itself an evil game, and they should perhaps switch to something friendlier.
“There are no friendly games, Riley,” Tobe said, seething. “It’s every man for himself.”
“What about the women?” Marta asked, crossing her arms as she twisted her pretty mouth into a smirk.
“Or us, actually, Tobe,” Riley replied, latching on to Marta’s teasing.
“Oh, fuck you both, you cheating witches. I’m going to pee. Where’s your crapper, Oscar?” Tobe stood up, and Oscar took the opportunity to go to the kitchen for more drinks, pointing them in the direction of the bathroom.
He was still laughing as he poured himself a soda and drank it by the sink. His eyes settled on Aaron, whose eyes were bright, a million light years away from that afternoon at the care home. Joe elbowed him in the side, muttering something that made him laugh. Marta and Anna were chatting with Riley. And Tobe was farting audibly in the bathroom just a few paces away from Oscar.
It felt like family, like a picture Oscar had wished to be painted his entire life. Something about it choked him with want, with the desire to freeze time and live in this minute forever. Inadvertently, he pulled out his phone and found Lucas’s thread.
They’d texted back and forth as normal, although not quite as much as they used to, and Oscar had missed it. Had missed him.
Spikey: Team Jacob, do you receive this transmission?
Luke SkyRacer: I do, chico. What’s up?
Spikey: All good. Just hanging out with Aaron’s friends and thought of you.
Luke SkyRacer: I miss you too. You *can* be a bit sappy sometimes, you know. Everything else good, though?
Spikey: Everything’s great. I promise. What are you doing?
Oscar had told Lucas about seeing his mother and costing Aaron his job. He’d told him about arguing and about how disappointed he’d been in himself. It had happened after Oscar had finally texted Christina back following her string of messages and missed calls to apologize for ghosting her. She’d said she was glad he was okay and next time to call her or speak to a friend. So Oscar had. He’d spoken to his best friend.
Luke SkyRacer: Watching Philip wheel the cart at the supermarket. He’s getting more kale. T.T
Spikey: You should sneak in some chicken nuggets.
Luke SkyRacer: Nah, I have a run soon. Gotta practice.
Spikey: I should get back to the game. They’re going to start fighting over the blue lots in just a minute.
Oscar refilled his glass and followed Tobe to the table, taking a seat beside them, and watched them study the board to check that nobody had messed with the pieces. In the end, Joe won, which seemed to both upset Tobe a great deal but also fill them with glory as they declared any winner was better than Marta, to which Marta responded with an eye roll.
“Let’s play Clue. I know who the killer is going to be,” Riley said, sticking their tongue out at Tobe, who muttered expletives their way while trying to suppress a smile.
In the end, the killer was Aaron’s character, at least in the first round. The second and third time, the killer was Anna. As the night wore on, Oscar’s fridge began to empty itself, colas and lemonades and orange sodas being gulped down like they were racing a marathon and in need of hydration.
“I’m actually hungry for food,” Joe said. “Oz, you wanna get kebabs for the team?”
“Sure. Let’s go, Dot.”
