Page 12 of Bad Boy
“Nah. It’s cool. I’m the one who asked you to hang out.”
“Here you go, boys. And please, call me Barb. This little old lady isn’t quite ready to settle down and be ama’am,” she chuckles, even though she definitelyisa ma’am. I don’t think my mother would approve of me calling her anything else. She must have been listening to our whole exchange because she hands each of us a cup of tokens.
“Thanks, Barb.” I guess Remi has no issue calling her by name.
“Thank you, ma’am,” I reply automatically, unable to stop the “Southern gentleman” from pouring out of my mouth unbidden. I roll my lips inward, heat tickling my cheeks.
Remi and Barb laugh, but I know they’re not laughingatme. “I can’t help it. I’m not sure I can call you by your first name, to be honest,” I admit truthfully.
“How about Ms. Barb? Fair compromise?” she asks, and I immediately nod.
“Yes, ma’am. I mean. . . um. . . Ms. Barb. I’m Lincoln, and this is Remi.”
“It’s so good to have you boys here. Now, go have fun.” She shoos us away, and we jog over to our first game. Remi seems pretty competitive. Me, not so much. I’d just prefer to have a friendly, low-key match.
* * *
After Remi wins at air hockey, basketball, racing,Street Fighter, andeverythingelse, I give up. We take a break and get drinks at the counter, then choose a table, pulling out two white plastic chairs you would normally find on an outside patio. We plop down, ready to enjoy our cold beverages.
“So, tell me more about yourself, Lincoln. What do you like besides science, mopeds, and arcade games?” His smile ticks up on one side, crooked and teasing.
“Um. I mainly like to read and play video games. And I guess swimmin’ sometimes, too.” I think about whether I should count piano and student council, but then I tell myself it’s what my parents want, not what I want.
“Let me guess, science fiction?”
I lean forward and take another sip of my sweet iced tea, lowering my gaze. “And some fantasy, too,” I mumble around the straw.
“What about you?” I ask in return.
“Working out, boxing, MMA, racing cars.”
I choke on my tea, the ice-cold liquid going down the wrong pipe. I’m lucky it doesn’t spew out of my mouth and all over Remi’s face. That would be mortifying.
Everything he just listed is so. . .dangerous. So risky.
Remi gets out of his seat and squats next to me, patting my back gently. “You okay, Linc?”
I gain use of my lungs again and clear my throat. “Yes. Sorry. You just caught me off guard. That’s all so reckless. Don’t you have any low-key hobbies?”
He squints his eyes and looks off to the side, thinking hard about it. “I guess probably science for me now, too. And I’d be down to game with you. Or go swimming, as long as the water’s warm.”
“I have a PS5 and a heated pool,” I blurt out. Not thinking about the fact that he may have to meet my parents if he comes over. Now that I’m eighteen, I should be able to hang out with whomever I want. And I really, really want to hang out with Remi more.
“Oh nice, Preppy. You inviting me sometime?”
“Yes?” I’ll figure out my parents later.
“Fuck, yeah.”
I distract him from the conversation when my eyes catch on something. “Oh, look. They have a photo booth.” I point behind Remi. “I’ve always wanted to do one of those,” I whisper longingly, not even considering how pathetic that might sound.
He turns in his seat, peering back at the old machine. “Yeah? Okay. Let’s do it.”
Remi slurps the rest of his soda and tosses it into the trash can. I follow suit with my drink, and then he’s holding his hand out. I automatically place mine in his.
Do guy friends do this? Hold hands? I feel like maybe they don’t.
Remi gently tugs me over to the brightly lit photo booth. He slides the curtain open and lets go of my hand.
