Page 60 of Call Me Baby 2: Side B

“Yeah, and you.” Peter points at me. “Whatareyou, the fuckin’ Antichrist? This some fantasy? A deal? Can’t figure this one out.”

Andrew sets his drink down, eyes flicking to me, then back to Peter. “Aight. Shut the fuck up or I'll slap the Boston outta you.”

“Wait,” I turn to Andrew, “you’re twenty-seven. You never been in a relationship before?” But the table falls quiet. Mikey and his uncle said the same, but I didn’t take any of it literal… “What about that girl at Type?”

Ricky laughs, fist coming down on the table. “Andrew’s in a secret relationship with everyone.”

Andrew’s speechless, staring at me⁠—

When the entire bar erupts, the Giants scoring a touchdown with ten left on the clock.

But we’re still staring at each other.

Me, wondering, why me, why now,

what exactly are you after?

And him, with panic in his eyes.

We just keep staring.

Even when a shadow falls over Andrew,

we stare.

Then my gaze breaks as the waitress bends over him, hand on his shoulder, finger brushing his throat as she says low in his ear, “Your card declined.”

Ricky’s eyes shoot to Andrew,

brows raised, grin rising with it.

Andrew nudges his chin, muttering, “Nah, that’s not right. Try it again.” He leans back, sliding his wallet out of his front pocket.

But I’m fixated on her,

heat simmering under my skin.

I don’t know what’s wrong with me.

It looks like jealousy, but it’s not.

It can’t be.

It’s the way she's touching him

as if she's allowed to.

It’s the guilty secret I’m babysitting.

It’s Little Death now pinching at my clit.

Maybe it’s all of it crammed into me,

one breath away from blowing up.

Jealousy, rage, withdrawal, lies—they all taste the same as they decompose inside.

The second she walks off, Ricky leans in.