Page 41 of King of Pain
I glance up, a little wary of whatever she’s scheming now. “What’s up?”
Jen leans on the counter with her usual mischievous grin. “So, Anthony’s next home game is next Saturday. Halloween.”
I nod slowly, unsure where this is going.
“And,” she continues, her tone dripping with mock drama, “I got you two tickets.”
“Wait, what?”
Jen slides an envelope across the counter, sly and smooth. “You’re going. No arguments. And you can’t tell Anthony you’re coming.”
“I don’t—”
“Nope,” she interrupts, holding up a hand. “You don’t get a say. You’re going, and that’s final. Also…” She ducks below thecounter and pops back up with a large box. “This is for you. But you can’t open it until right before you leave for the game.”
I eye the box suspiciously. “Jen, what are you up to?”
“Nothing,” she says, feigning innocence. “Just being a supportive coworker. Now take it before I make a scene.”
With a sigh, I grab the box and the tickets. “You’re impossible, you know that?”
“Yep,” she says with a wink. “Get back to work, slacker.”
“I will, but for the record, I want to go. I was just trying to say I could have gotten my own tickets, but you wouldn’t let me get a word in,” I tell her as I get back to stocking the spooky vinyl.
“Just buy me a beer at the stadium, Sullivan.”
The afternoon drifts by with sprinklings of lighthearted banter. Jen reminds me nine more times that I am not to open the box until game day. Each time, I tease her by saying I’m opening it as soon as I get home, and she responds by threatening me with various methods of torture.
Her prodding does remind me I need to find someone for the other ticket. I pull out my phone and text Lexi.
Me:Don’t make plans for next Saturday. Got a surprise for you.
Lexi:Ooh, what kind of surprise?
Me:You’ll find out. Just clear your schedule.
Lexi:Wait, that’s Halloween. I’m not bartending, but who says I don’t have sexy plans?
Me:Do you?
Lexi:Fine, whatever. No, I don’t.
Lexi:This better be good or you have to blow me.
Me:Ha! Morph yourself into a college football player that loves ‘80s music… and I will.
Lexi:Boy, you got it bad.
Me:You have no idea.
I tuck my phone away, shaking my head at her predictable snark.
Over the past couple of months, Lexi and I have grown quite close. She has this way of drawing people in with her humor and unapologetic honesty, making it easy for me to let my guard down in a way I wouldn’t with anyone back in Boston.
A few weeks ago, not long after she spotted Ant leaving my apartment, we were hanging out at her place. One or two too many margaritas later, she gracefully approached the sexuality conversation.
“Okay, let’s play Truth or Dare, except truth is the only option,” she announced suddenly, taking another sip of her margarita.
