Page 32 of Hits Different

It’s not that funny. Okay, maybe it is.

“Special contribution to lying out your ass”, I say, wondering if he’ll remember the reference. He snorts, sending beer everywhere.

“Special contribution to making me do a spit-take”.

“What’s this?” Archie asks.

It’s an in-joke, back from when we were in tenth grade. We were both pretty hopeless at maths and our teacher, Ms Abraham, knew it. She was super nice but couldn’t bring herself to praise our actual work, so instead, she just gave us special contribution nods to stuff any idiot could do.

“She must have sensed we were starved of positive reinforcement”, I grin, “Special contribution to parking your car within the lines today, Mr Carter. Really great job”.

“Special contribution to a perfectly ironed shirt, Mr Di Rossi”. Brandon rejoins, “Your crease game is truly incomparable”.

“You fellas were trouble”, Archie grins, “I knew I liked you. I told Will you were gonna be a lot of fun. Didn’t I, bro?”

“It’s all he’s talked about”, Will says, with a flicker of brotherly indulgence. “I’m starting to worry my company isn’t exciting enough for him”.

“We made up for our lack of mathematical ability in other ways”. Brandon launches into a story about how we started a car washing business when we were barely into our teens. I borrowed my dad’s power washer and decided to use his car as a test. “It would have worked great, except he didn’t borrow the car washer. He borrowed the tile washer for the outdoor paving”.

“Those things are industrial strength!” Archie splutters. “They’re designed to rip mould off stone. You need like, special training to even operate them”.

“They don’t exactly do wonders for car paint jobs either”, I add. Everyone cracks up, and after a second, I join in.

“Here was me thinking it was just my brother that pulled stunts like this”, Will laughs. “What did your dad say?”

Things suddenly tilt sideways as my dad’s face flashes before my eyes. My answer catches in my throat.

Silence stretches out in-front of me, before Brandon’s voice calmly pulls me back to earth, “I appreciate the entrepreneurial spirit, boys, but next time why don’t you practice on one of Brandon’s dad’s cars instead?”

Everyone’s laughing. Quietly, Brandon’s hand squeezes my arm, just for a second.

Once we were old enough, we spent the whole summer washing dishes to pay for the damage. The owner used to smoke blunts out of the back door, and the hostess used to double as the lounge singer. There was an old hammock up out back where we’d read comic books and watch the stars after our shifts finished.

Funny, I’d forgotten about that until now.

I tune back in. Brandon is regaling my new friends with a story of a class trip that was thwarted when one of our classmates got food poisoning.

“Wait, why was his nickname Pineapple?” Will interjects.

“Because one time he opened his lunchbox, and his mom had wrapped him up a full pineapple as a snack”. I shrug. “What can I say? Nicknames aren’t sophisticated”.

“You tell ‘em, Rocky”. Brandon grabs another beer.

“Try and stop me”, I time my response just right for him to choke on his drink, “Artful Dodger”.

“Why were you called the Artful Dodger?” Archie asks. Brandon frowns, like he’s only just wondered that himself.

I could tell him. It was me who came up with it.

Now it’s my turn to save him. “It’s because he used to organise a gang of pickpockets”.

Brandon holds his hands up, grabbing a pool cue. “Guilty as charged. Who wants a rematch?”

Things wrap up a little before ten. Archie sneaks out with a pretty brunette from marketing, and Will pleads exhaustion after helping to move the tables. “Ready to go?” he asks, zipping up his jacket.

Brandon, armed with two huge black bin liners, waves goodbye. I shake my head. “I’ll stick around. Don’t wait up”.

Will looks towards the door that his brother has recently vacated. “Something tells me I will be. I can never relax until I know Archie’s made it back in one piece”. He nods towards Carter. “He’s cool. Different to what I was expecting”.

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