Page 60 of Finding Delaware

“There’s a party tonight at the Prospector if you want to go,” Christian says, bumping his shoulder to mine. “Juanita promised me free drinks.”

The Prospector is our favorite hangout in the 801, a smallish dive bar squished between a bakery and a Polynesian market on State Street. The parties there are lively, the women lovely, and the pool tables are usually free, which is the main reason I went in the first place. Nothing sucks more for an alcoholic who can’t drink than watching other people slurp liquor down like it’s water, so keeping myself focused on a game of pool keeps my hands busy. But tonight, after watching the game...I’m just not in the mood.

“Nah, you go ahead,” I shrug, running a hand through my hair and wincing when my fingers catch on a knot. “I’ll have Salem or Xed drop me off at home.”

“You sure? I don’t have to. We can totally grab takeout and watch some shitty cartoon with Xed and Hannah or something.”

But I can tell in his eyes that he wants to. He’s still pretty lit from the show earlier, and I know my best friend enough to understand that he’s going to have restless energy all night unless he either drinks it, fights it or fucks it off. Or all three. But I also know he’s worried about me after watching the game; he just won’t admit it.

Rolling my eyes, I lightly smack him on the cheek. “Go, Christian. I’m fine. I promise I’ll hold Xed’s hand if I need to cross the street.”

He cracks a grin before pulling me in for a hug. “You fucking better, baby boy.”

“Get the fuck out of here.” Shoving him away with a chuckle, I approach Salem, standing near the door.

“I have to stay to get a few more shots in.” She pulls out my wallet, phone and keys from her purse, handing them to me. “You can either wait or go with Xed and Hannah to Chuck E. Cheese.”

“Hell no, that robot rat is creepy as shit.” A little gasp reaches my ears, and I find Xed standing beside me with a gaping Hannah in his arms. Oops. “I mean, uh...heck no?”

“Uncle Tayto said a bad word,” she whispers to Xed, who smirks as he passes us out the door.

“Yeah, he did. That’s why he doesn’t get any pizza.”

“Bye, love you,” I shout after them, grinning, before plopping my ass on a nearby couch to wait for Salem. The game highlights are on, and I engross myself with them for the twenty minutes or so it takes her to wrap things up. Then I throw my denim over the motocross gear and follow her outside to the snow-covered employee parking lot, where we climb into her jeep.

As I’m buckling my seatbelt, I reach into the glove box, pull out the pack of cigarettes that Salem keeps in there just for me since she doesn’t smoke, and light one up.

I tried to quit—I really did. But when all of your other vices are taken away, what can you do?

After several quiet minutes of me puffing on my cigarette, Salem glances at me as she pulls onto the freeway. “You alright?”

“Yeah, why?”

“You’re rubbing your shoulder again.”

Blinking, I notice she’s right. I didn’t even realize.

“Tweaked my collarbone during landing. I’ll ice it when I get home.”

“Okay.” She doesn’t say anything for a second as she switches lanes. “What else is on your mind?”

“Nothing.” I frown at her but stifle a smile when I catch her glaring sideways at me.

“Don’t lie to me, Taytortot. You only smoke when you’re upset.”

Exhaling slowly, I let my head fall back against the headrest and gather my thoughts momentarily. Finally, after a beat of silence, I quietly admit, “I missed the game.”

“Ah. You know they record that shit and put it on YouTube, right?”

I do know. And the time I’ve spent repeatedly watching his games over the years is embarrassing, but…

“It’s not the same.”

Because watching it live means that I know where he is and what he’s doing for once. I’m living the moment with him in real-time. And I know that he’s breathing.

Salem pauses. “I know. But you caught the end. You saw him, Taylor. He’s fine.”

“Yeah.”

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