Page 99 of Perfect Mess

“What did he do?” I asked.

It took a while for Gary to answer. When I looked into his eyes, they were like portals into another world, bursting with feelings and thoughts and emotions bottled up so long they were now ready to explode.

“It was after gym class,” Gary began. “They broke into my locker while I was in the shower. When I came out in a towel, Jack was wearing my Eagle scout uniform. Making fun of me. When I told him to give it back, he asked me what I was going to do about it. His friends grabbed me before I even got close. They pulled off my towel. Threw me outside. Locked the door so I couldn’t get back in.”

“My God.” I didn’t know what else to say.

“After a while, one of the coaches heard me crying.”

“What did they do to him?”

“Nothing.”

“Nothing? What do you mean, nothing? He should have been suspended. He should have been expelled.”

Gary shrugged. “When coach asked me who did it, I told him I didn’t know.”

Gary’s shared memories brought back memories of my own. I knew what it was like to be humiliated. I knew what it was like to just want to pretend it never happened and move on.

“It was a long time ago.” Gary’s voice was little more than a whisper. “Whatever doesn’t kill us only makes us stronger, right?”

“Right,” I lied. After hearing Gary’s story, I can’t say I was surprised. Jack Thompson was a bully. That was never in doubt. The question now was whether Jack had changed. I had changed. Gary had changed. Why couldn’t Jack?

After that, we got out of the pool and toweled off. As I was changing into dry clothes, I felt a little dizzy. That last batch of margaritas was wreaking havoc on my wits. When I came back downstairs from changing in Aunt Catherine’s bedroom, I could tell right away that Gary was feeling it too.

He said, “I’m going to book an Uber. There’s no way I should drive right now. I thought maybe I could just leave my van here and then pick it up tomorrow morning. If you don’t mind.”

“Yeah, no problem, good idea.” But then I had another idea. A better idea. “Or,” I said. “You and Kyle can just stay here tonight. I mean, I have two extra rooms. Might as well get some practical use out of them.” I was pleasantly surprised when Gary didn’t immediately say no. To sweeten the pot, I added, “The furniture rental place I used even decorated one in a space theme, with a rocket bed and everything. Kyle would love it.”

“Forget Kyle. I’m taking the rocket bed for myself.”

* * *

Gary didn’t endup in the rocket bed. And no, he didn’t end up in my bed either, in case you were wondering. Instead, Gary and I both ended up on the couch, flipping through dozens of stations of nothing worth watching on T.V.

I paused at station 1001-2. “A western?”

Gary made a face. He looked at the station guide app on his phone. “What about a murder documentary?”

I made a face, stopping the remote on 342-3. “Ooh, here’s a winner. Mexican soap opera.” We both made a face.

After flipping through another two dozen stations, with absolutely nothing catching our mutual interest, I said, “I have an idea.”

Gary looked doubtful. “What?”

“Game shows.”

“Game shows?”

“Game shows. Specifically, Family Feud. Everyone loves Family Feud. Or at least, no one hates it.”

“The Steve Harvey version?”

“Of course, the Steve Harvey version. Although the Richard Dawson cringe factor is pretty good, too.”

Gary smiled. “True.”

I don’t know how late we stayed up watching old Family Feud reruns. We took turns answering the final round questions, with one of us getting the top answer almost every single time. Finally, there was something that we were both good at. And even better together. By two in the morning, we had agreed to drive out to Los Angeles or wherever they filmed the show and sign up as contestants the very next day.

---