Page 11 of Landon & Shay: Part One

“Never,” we said in unison, and it was one of the few times we were on the same page.

We stood there alone for a moment, giving each other nasty glances, until it became too awkward.

I cleared my throat. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go ahead and be anywhere but here.”

“Same,” he replied, and we went off in completely different directions.

4

Landon

I shouldn’t have hada party.

It didn’t take long for regret to settle into my gut as people started swarming into the place, and I didn’t even recognize a lot of the faces coming through the door. A bunch of random people decided to crash because they heard there were drugs and booze, and if lucky, some boob and dick touching. Plus, half the people here had probably never even stepped foot into a mansion in their lives.

I’d thought having people around would make it easier to keep my mind off Lance, but the night was proving me wrong. Even though people surrounded me, my memories of the best man who’d ever been in my life continued to consume me.

Forty-five.

He would’ve been forty-five today.

“Are you sure you don’t want to call the cops on your own party, get all these people kicked out, and then play video games?” Greyson asked me as we leaned against the fireplace in the living room while dozens of people pushed through the space, making messes I didn’t give a damn about.

“Nah, it’s fine.” I shrugged, brushing my hand across the back of my neck. He gave me a smile, but it was that fake Greyson smile, the one where he was overthinking shit. I nudged him. “Loosen up, will you? Just get a drink in your system and chill.”

“Yeah, all right. I just know that today is—”

I cut him off because I knew what he was going to say, and I had no desire to discuss said topic. “All right, I’ll catch you later.” I patted my best friend on the back and hurried away, mainly because I didn’t want to deal with him questioning if I was okay every few seconds. I was fine, good as ever.

Later that night, like every night I had a party, I ended up in my bedroom. I sat in my room with Greyson, Eric, and Hank. No one else was allowed in my bedroom, and if they stepped foot inside, I made sure to cuss them out and put the fear of Satan into their souls so they’d never come back. Greyson always called me Scrooge after I snapped, and he wasn’t wrong. I wasn’t polite about kicking them out of my room, but the last thing I needed in my life was some drunk couple screwing on my Italian sheets.

Plus, my bedroom was Ham’s safe place, and I didn’t need anyone screwing with my dog while they were drunk and high.

Eric and Hank smoked a joint and talked about mindless crap that kept my head from going to any really dark places.

“You guys getting the newSimCitygame?” Greyson asked, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Hell yeah, are you kidding? It looks dope,” Hank said, taking a hit from the joint before skipping over Greyson and passing it to Eric. Hank sounded more excited than he needed to be about the game. “I told my parents I’ve got the theater room for a whole month after it comes out. I’m going to blow through it.”

Hank had a deep voice and was a masculine guy. There weren’t many people bigger than me, but in shoulder span and biceps, that dude had me beat. Plus, he had more facial hair than any kid our age should’ve had. Eric called him Ape Man due to the dark hair curling out of the top of his tank top, but Hank didn’t think too much of it. We all talked shit about each other; it was how we knew the friendship was real.

But the thing about Hank, his manliness, and his apelike appearance was whenever he got really excited about something, his voice would get high pitched, and he’d sound like Britney Spears. Same when he laughed, too, and Hank was always getting excited or laughing, which made it so damn entertaining. Even on my bad days, all I had to do was get around Hank, and his laughter alone would make me feel better. It made sense that he and Raine were in love. Raine loved to joke, and Hank loved to laugh.

He clapped his hands together. “Dude! It’s going to be so dope.” He went on and on about the game, as ifSimCitywas the second coming of Jesus.

Eric shrugged. “It looks kind of stupid to me.”

That was enough to offend poor Hank to his core, so the two of them went back and forth, arguing about why the other was a dumbass who knew nothing at all about good, quality games.

Every now and then, Greyson would interject his thoughts, but for the most part, he was probably running basketball stats through his brain.

“Okay, okay, then what do you consider a good game?” Hank inquired.

Eric responded without a pause in his breath. “Super Mario Sunshine.”

Hank groaned, bending over in horror. “Oh my fucking fuck, that’s the gayest shit I’ve ever heard. I can’t believe I shared a joint with you.”

Eric flinched ever so lightly at the word gay. I knew enough about people to know when they were uncomfortable. Eric always seemed a bit uneasy with words like gay or fag, but he always laughed it off and shifted the conversations.

---