Page 88 of Gilded Fake

“Wanna tell me why you’re doing the same shit as your sister?”

“Wanna tell me why you give a fuck?”

“I don’t,” he says, tipping the bottle up and taking a few deep swallows.

“Yeah, that’s why you came running when you saw me standing there.”

“Fuck off,” he says, shoving me hard enough to knock me sideways.

“I was just looking,” I say, pushing myself up and brushing off my hands. “I think.”

The truth is, I’m not sure. The drop had me hypnotized, and I can’t say it wasn’t inviting. I was imagining what it would feel like to jump. I don’t know if I wanted to. I wasn’t thinking about death, exactly. I just wanted it all to go away.

I am my mother’s son too.

“Asshole,” Duke mutters, taking another gulp of whiskey. He hisses through his teeth at the burn, then hands the bottle to me.

“I think I’m fucked up enough,” I say. “Have it.”

“I won’t say no to that,” he says, downing another mouthful. Then he pulls a new pack of cigarettes from his pocket. I could kiss the guy when I see they’re even my brand.

“Since when do you smoke?”

“Since today,” he says, peeling the tab on the cellophane around the top. He crumples the top of the plastic and fingers it into the pocket of his jeans, then thumbs open the top of the pack and sniffs it. The tip of his thumb is red and shiny, smoothly scarred. “I’m not playing college ball. I figure, what do I need virgin lungs for? Might as well fuck them like everything else.”

“Once you start, you’ll never quit,” I caution, digging out my Bic.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says, pulling out a cigarette and tucking the filter between his lips. I flick open my lighter, and he leans toward me, resting his weight on his palm and angling his head while I bring the flame to the tip. His thick fringe of black lashes cast down to the fire and then up, his eyes meeting mine as he sucks. The cherry glows bright in the gathering dusk.

Duke takes a deep, long pull and then blows out a stream of smoke. “Gonna die anyway.”

“To dying anyway,” I say, taking the cigarette from between his fingers as he reaches for the bottle. I take a drag, and he takes a draught, and we sit there in silence for a minute, watching the lightning bugs blink in the woods and the pit below. A single, long cloud floats along the horizon, a deep purple in the darkening sky. The last shreds of twilight cling to the evening, lingering like the early summer heat. Above us, the first star gleams.

Tonight is the night I should have brought Gloria up.

“What are you doing up here, anyway?” I ask after a while.

“Oh,” he says, grinning like he suddenly remembered why he’s here. “I was having a threesome in the Hummer.”

“You better get back before your Dolce girls revolt,” I say. “I’m surprised they’ve survived this long without a dick in them. You’ve been over here a while.”

He shrugs. “I told them to keep going until I got back. It’s amazing what straight girls will do for some good D.”

I smirk at him. “Not just the girls.”

“Fuck you,” he says. “I should have let you jump.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“I don’t know,” he says, shrugging again. “I don’t know why I do most of the shit I do.”

“Probably because you love me so much,” I conclude.

“Maybe I do.”

I snort at that. “You wouldn’t know love if it bit you in the ass.”

“I know it doesn’t look like one thing,” he says, dragging on the cigarette. “I have to believe that, coming from my family.”

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