Page 24 of Zero Pucks

“Bro. Seriously?”

Right. Right. Focus, Tucker. But no, I couldn’t let it go. “Okay, but…you hit on him? Was he hot?”

Ford shrugged. “He was cute. I mean, not my usual type or anything like that, but yeah. I guess. He was talking to himself, and then he started taking a video of the pasta aisle, which was weird but kind of adorable?” He waved his hand dismissively. “I flirted with him, and he turned me down. Said he was married. You’ve got a loyal one there, babe.”

Why the actual fuck did that make me feel better? “Was he weird about your leg though?”

Ford shook his head. “She was doing her slutty thing, and he stared—it happens. I gave him a little bit of shit for it, but he told me I reminded him of someone.” Leaning forward, he curled his hands under his chin and smiled. “Must have been you,” he singsonged.

“I…no, dude. Whatever. Shut up.” Yeah, I was a real mature adult who definitely should be married. “Fuck, okay. Do I call him?”

“Probably. He seemed a little fucked-up.”

“On drugs?”

“What?No. Like, he was upset.” Ford’s brow furrowed, and he looked concerned. Boden might have been the Dad friend, but Ford was the guy who took care of everyone. He was the ginger ale, saltine crackers, andPrice is Rightfriend. “He didn’t seem to want to talk much, especially when I answered the door. He got a little panicked and thought I was you for a second, but when I explained I was just here to steal your laundry soap, he kind of relaxed. Then he panicked again and said he had to go when I invited him in to wait for you.”

I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. “I’m gonna call him. Yeah, I—okay.” My hands were shaking as I picked up my phone, but somehow, I managed to get the number typed in right after the third try. “Hold my hand. I think I’m gonna puke.”

“If you’re going to puke, I’m leaving.”

“Just hold my fucking hand!” I’d never heard my voice go up that high before.

Ford looked terrified and grabbed it, squeezing tight. “Can you not lose it totally or whatever’s happening? You’re my rock, Tucker.”

I took a deep breath and looked at him. “I’m fine. I’ve just never screwed up this badly. Not since, you know.” I gestured down at my legs. There were words clawing at my throat, begging to be released. Words I’d been avoiding saying even in my head since I got back. Words that would make this all very real—not necessarily the marriage part, but the promise I’d made to myself. “I swore I would never get blackout wasted again. And this time, I didn’t lose a limb, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t ruin everything.”

“Hey.” Ford squeezed my hand. “We’ve all done it. The fact that it took you this long to do something monumentally foolish is a good thing.”

He was right. I needed him to be right. This didn’t have to define the rest of my life, did it?

At most, I’d gained a husband, and divorce was a thing. It didn’t need to be forever. At the least, I gained a stranger who I’d spent a weird night with.

I was going to be okay. But I did need to nut up and be an adult and face this.

“I’m calling,” I said, calmer this time.

Ford shifted his palm so he could lace his fingers with mine as it began to ring.

And ring.

And ring.

“He’s not going to pick up. God, I can’t sit on this all night! I can’t just?—”

“Hello?”

“It’s him,” I hissed.

The voice on the other end of the phone made a strange noise, then said, “It’s…me, yes.”

Fuck. He could hear me. Right. I coughed. “Hey. Hi. Is this Amedeo? Am I even saying that right?”

Another pause. “Tucker Banks?” Amedeo’s voice was quiet but a little sharp, like I could hear the punctuation in his sentence.

It was weird to hear someone say my full name who wasn’t the game’s announcer for the night, and that always came with a flourish: “Tuckerrrrr Baaaaanks!”

“Yeah. Hey. I’m home, and my friend is here.”

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