Page 78 of Good Guy Gabe

But then there was a dull stretch and Joss was making this funny raccoon pattern, so I started reading the captions to hear which story she was telling about Jerry. I kicked out the footrest on my lounger and anchored my feet there so I could set the phone in my lap and bury myself under the big quilt she mademe for Christmas. I think it’s for my bed, but it’s made its home in my chair.

It was fine, but then she said something about making a sandwich — a quilt sandwich, surely — and it hit me that she’s said that to me recently. I scrolled through my texts, and there it was, three days ago.

JOSS

Come make me a sandwich

I have a lot of these texts now.

Every stupid text from her is a flash of what we’ve been doing. I don’t need her to text me for me to think about her, but man, it helps.

I scroll through those messages, having stupid happy thoughts of all the times she’s touched my dick recently even if I ran off immediately after so she couldn’t kick me out. It’s better than watching the game, but everyone’s been on my case about not hanging out enough. Besides, I’m not the only one dicking around on my phone.

Which is why it’s super irritating when I get beaned in the head. If I had doubts about who’s throwing shit at me, it’s clear enough when the slimy little not-hot dog lands in my lap.

“Bruh,” Blaise says, more of an accented breath than an actual word. “Watch the game.”

“You’re not watching the game.”

“New season ofWatashi no Chichi no Fakkusu-kijust dropped,” he says like that has any meaning to me. Nothing against anime, but he watches the weird stuff. I’m lucky he doesn’t launch into an explanation of it.

I flick the sausage back his way before yawning and pulling my blanket up to my neck. My eyes glaze over the moment they hit Merrick’s full-wall screen. “See, watching the game.”

He eyes me up skeptically. “If you go vanish to your room to whack it, I’ll tell everyone you got so hot and bothered seeing everyone else’s ass in their uniforms that you couldn’t keep your dick down.”

I slowly pan my head his way. “What the hell sense does that make?”

He shrugs, but he’s still mostly upside-down. It’s hard to translate the gesture. “I gotta look at your fat ass all the time. You owe me this.”

I lean over in my seat to get closer to him, lowering my voice to conspiratorial levels even though the game’s so loud we’ve been talking normal volume and no one’s heard us. “Do you struggle with keeping your dick down when you look at my ass?”

I get another Vienna sausage between the eyes. “Bruh, I’m a fucking pro.”

“Pro at checking out my fat ass.”

Blaise grins at that like he’s actually achieved something, which makes it even stranger to me that the next thing he says is, “You need to get laid.”

“I got laid yesterday.”

“Yeah, but by a real girl.”

“She was a real girl.”

He rolls over, but he’s still thrown all over the chair, so now he’s contorted in a pretzel pose. One leg remains propped up on the back of his chair, but it’s crooked at the knee, the foot dangling dangerously close to his head.

If he kicks himself in the head, I’m here for that.

“Yeah, but not to you. You’re putting too much energy into Joss.”

Crap. I did tell Joss I wasn’t going to mention this to anyone, and Blaise is a blabbermouth. “No, what? I’m not fucking Joss.”

“Yeah, you are. And you’re being a simp about it. She’s using you for that fat ass.”

She does, in fact, like my ass. But that’s not why she calls me over every day for sex. She said it herself: she can go get any guy. I’m not a simp. I’m rebuilding.

“You got something you wanna share with the class?” Merrick says from behind me. He puts his hand on my shoulder like he thinks I’m about to stand up and shouldn’t. I wasn’t going to stand up, but now I’m thinking I should.

“He’s not going anywhere,” Blaise says, which gets Merrick patting my shoulders casually. “She’s streaming right now. Made a whole thing about it like she’s saving women from Super Bowl Sunday. And before you get shitty, Gabe, I have the platinum subscription and I used my real name. I’m not stalking her.”

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