Page 44 of Faithful

“Nothing wrong with keeping the competitive spirit alive, kid.” Gin drops the goodies at our drink station and motions for me to follow her to the office. “You’re early. I said eleven. We don’t need to be there until after two anyway.”

Our candy truck (well, we leased it along with the driver) won’t be arriving at the community center where the whole thing kicks off anytime soon.

The four of us are supposed to meet at work first for a quick briefing and some minor paperwork, but truth be told, I haven’t been sleeping well. Woke up at the crack of dawn, went for a run, and explored the neighborhood a bit.

My mind is elsewhere today. Has been this entire week since Iodine’s performing tonight in New York and Kai has been very insistent on me watching the livestream. They are scheduled to go on at ten, which means I need to be home by seven to catch the beginning.

The Candy Drive ends at seven too.

“Hey.” I trail Gin to her tiny office space, my pulse abnormally fast. “Do you think I’ll be able to leave a little early tonight?” I feel like I’m back at high school again, asking for permission to do something that’s not going to get me further in life.

She turns, quirks a brow at me. “Oh?”

“I’ve got a… prior commitment and I couldn’t move it.”

“Hmm.” She scans me from head to toe and nods. “Sure. As long as you’re present until then.”

“I promise I’m one hundred and fifty percent in.”

“I’ll hold you to that, kid. Now, let’s get some coffee and talk logistics.”

Val and Winona show up a few minutes later and destroy the donuts. Soon the four of us are on the way to the community center where for the next several hours, I’m attacked by children of all ages in a variety of costumes (Spider-Mans, Baby Yodas, butterflies, Harry Potters) who look like they’ve never seen sweets in their lives.

By the time the event finally starts winding down because everyone is in a sugar coma, I feel like I’ve aged by at least ten years.

Kids are exhausting. That much I know as I drive myself home later that evening. My head is still filled with tiny screams and a multitude of small, excited faces.

I have a couple of minutes to hop into the shower before the livestream begins.

“What’s gotten into you, Watson?” Leigh calls from her room as I rage through the apartment in my underwear.

“Nothing, just realized candy for children is like water for those furry creatures that turn evil if they get wet from that old Christmas movie.”

“Gremlins?” she shouts.

“That’s the one!” I say before closing the door to the bathroom we share.

The ink was itching like a motherfucker at first when it started scabbing and I’ve been terrified of sleeping on my side or stomach. I had a nightmare once that it got erased because I rolled over while sleeping. I can’t imagine Kai going through this shit every time he went under the needle.

On several occasions, I wanted to call him and ask him for advice on how not to be freaked about your first tat, but then I had to remind myself that I was a grown-ass man and if the normal tattoo healing process isn’t something I can handle without being a baby about it, then what the fuck am I doing with my life? Like, for real?

Leigh was shocked when I got home that night and pulled off my sweatshirt right there in front of her in our living room.

“Shit. It’s not a fake?” she asked, eyes wide on the patch of plastic covering up the ink design.

“Does this blood seem like fake blood to you, Farley?”

“Lookity-look at you, Dylan Watson. Can we expect a neon orange hair color anytime soon?”

I gave her the middle finger.

And that was the end of our conversation.

The memory enters my mind at random when I’m rubbing the tender patch of skin right below my clavicle. Most of it has begun to peel now and will probably be completely healed by the time I leave for Vegas.

I haven’t asked Gin about time off yet, not wanting to give her another headache during the prep for the Candy Drive, but now that the event is behind us, it’s probably smart to tell her as soon as possible.

Tomorrow, I note to myself, getting out of the shower and speed-drying my body on the go.

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