Page 11 of Owen Gardner is Losing It

“I’m getting my first tattoo this summer when I turn eighteen,” Xander said, which was news to me. He’d never mentioned that before. “I was going to go out of town for it, but it looks like they do good work there.”

I tried to ignore the way Xander was eyeing a cursive quote poking out from beneath Beth’s shirt near her cleavage. “Do you know what you’re going to get?” Beth asked, glancing from Xander to Abigail like she was trying to assess their relationship.

Good luck with that.

“Probably, like, a melting skull or something like that,” Xander said, and I would have laughed if it weren’t for the twinge of annoyance pumping through my veins. He was dominating the conversation, and I had nothing of value to add.

“Well, you have to go to Killer Ink. They did my hip tattoo just a couple weeks ago, too. It took six hours.”

“Six hours?” Abigail’s eyebrows raised as she leaned onto her elbows on the counter, giving Beth her full attention.

“I fell asleep halfway through it.” Beth laughed, running her fingers through her hair.

“How big is it?” Xander asked.

“Well, it’s like…” Beth touched her hip, her pointer finger curling around her belt loop. “It’s a little hard to describe. Want me to just show you?”

With her eyes locked on Xander’s again, it was obvious that question was directed at him. I adjusted my arms against my chest and swallowed, awaiting Xander’s answer, hoping he’d throw me a bone and say something to redirect her attention toward me.

“Hell yeah,” he said, dropping his eyes to Beth’s hands, now hovering over the button of her shorts. And the second Xander gave her that enthusiastic answer, the shorts began to come down. But she didn’t stop there. I sucked on my bottom lip whenshe tugged at the side of her blue panties, too, angling her hip toward Xander so he could get a better view of the floral tattoo.

I was standing too far away to get a decent view myself, but to move closer would make me feel like a pervert. My feet remained firmly planted where they were as Beth’s shorts and underwear dipped dangerously low on her hip. And then, to my astonishment, Xander’s hand lurched forward to hold up her shirt so he could see the full tattoo, which extended from her waist to her thigh.

He wastouchingher.

“Wow,” he said, raising both eyebrows. “You fell asleep during that? That’s badass.”

“It barely hurt at all.”

I glanced over at Abigail, who was already staring at me with wide eyes, like she expected me to do something about this.

“Hey,” I blurted, wrapping my fingers around the neck of the Jack Daniels bottle. “Should we take some pre-party shots?” If I gave Xander something to hold, he couldn’t touch Beth anymore.

There was a chorus of yesses around me, so I reached for the red cups. I doubted Xander’s grandparents had shot glasses anywhere, so these cups would have to suffice. “We could just drink out of the bottle?” Beth suggested, buttoning her shorts. Both of Xander’s hands were resting on his lap now.

“That works,” I said, turning back around to twist the cap off the bottle. I slid it down the counter toward Beth. “You brought it, so you get the first sip.”

She picked up the bottle and take a long swig, shivering after she swallowed. I watched her wipe her mouth as she handed the Jack Daniels to Xander. Their fingers grazed as the bottle passed between them, and she watched him drink. He offered the bottle to Abigail, but she declined, saying, “It’s too early. I don’t want to be hugging a toilet by ten.”

No one argued with her. Xander then passed the bottle to me, and I took a deep breath, remembering I didn’t handle myself very well when drinking whiskey straight. Whiskey and Coke? Fine. But from the bottle, like this?God help me.

I did my best to keep a straight face as the liquor burned my esophagus on the way down, but a wince still worked its way through my attempt to act tough. Xander grinned. “Would you have rather had one of those fruity Smirnoffs?”

Maybe it was just an innocent joke, but his words felt like a slight dig at my masculinity. Ignoring Beth’s giggles, I stared at Xander and said, “No, but I’ll take the rest of my beer next to you there.” I nodded toward my cup, and Xander handed it to me. It was seconds before his eyes shot back to Beth, though, and she was looking right back at him.

Neither of them were being subtle.

But I had to keep my eyes on the prize. “Hey, Beth,” I said, lowering my cup from my lips. “There’s some cute baby chicks outside. Do you want to hold one?”

I didn’t know a whole lot about girls, but I understood they loved baby animals. As predicted, Beth’s face lit up, and she was fully focused on me now. “Aww! Yes, show me!”

I led her to the front door and opened it, allowing her to step onto the porch first so I could pause to give my friends a wide-eyed look. Though Xander merely stared down at the counter, Abigail lightly clapped, making me feel like I’d just pulled the most genius move of my life.

And maybe it was? I was glad I’d heard the chicks cheeping on my way up to the house earlier that evening, because as it turned out, they were the perfect icebreaker. I opened the wooden latch to the enclosed part of the coop, just like Xander showed me a few years ago when I visited him here, and led Beth inside, where a couple dozen yellow chicks were cowering beneath a heat lamp in the corner.

“Oh. My. God.” Beth clapped her hands against her cheeks and squealed. “They’re so cute. They look a little afraid of us, though, don’t they? We’re like giants to them.”

I bent down and scooped one up, holding it out toward her. “Here you go,” I said, and she carefully took the chick from my hands. She held it close to her chest, and it cheeped softly, nestling against her. “Look, she likes you,” I said before bending over to pick up another one. As I straightened back up, I subtly moved closer to her, praying this thing wouldn’t poop on me. For a few moments, I watched her pet the chick’s head and talk to in a sweet, soothing voice.

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