Page 98 of Hot Mess Express
Pete freezes with his burger halfway to his lips. Bridger brings his napkin to his face to hide his laughter. Cody and Trey look at each other, blinking.
Mrs. Tucker, who reflects absolutely nothing on her face for a while, calmly replies: “Well if that ain’t true love, I can’t say what is. Can I top off anyone’s Cherry Coke?”
I’m not sure if it was the mention of renewing wedding vows at Biggie’s, but back at the house when everyone’s about to part ways, a weird-ass tension builds between Trey, Cody, andtheir respective parents. It has something to do with Trey’s dad wanting to walk Bethie home, insisting on enjoying the evening air. “What is going on with you?” asks Trey’s father privately to his son—I’m getting something out of the fridge and overhear it—but Trey doesn’t come up with an answer before Bethie appears, and then the two are off, telling us to have a great night and not to have too much fun without them. I think that last part is directed at Juni, who is dancing in front of the TV like she’s still riding her buzz that started Friday night and never let her go.
Once they’re gone, Trey goes straight to his bedroom, leaving us all be, and after a short attempt to have fun with us, Cody asks us to excuse him before going to check on his husband. We don’t hear from them for the rest of the night.
The remaining four of us lounge around the TV, Pete and Juni cuddled up making faces at each other, and Bridger and I on the floor. Bridger’s back is against the couch. I’m sprawled out like a ragdoll with my head resting on his lap. He keeps gazing down at me and stroking my hair, making me feel pampered.
“Y’all,” says Juni, sitting on Pete’s lap, “like, I was thinking, we could just do this every weekend.”
“Could we now?” laughs Pete.
“Yes, every single weekend. Why not?” She looks at me on the floor, then at Pete. “I don’t see why we couldn’t.”
It’s me, of all people, who rolls my eyes. “Alright, let me know how that goes for you, Dream World Barbie.”
She frowns. “I’m being serious.”
Now my eye roll turns into a laugh. “Some of us havelives.”
“I have a life, too.”
“Yeah, but yours never involves looking for a job, or making money, or handling real world issues like paying rent and worryin’ about your dad’s stupid pest control business.” Whenshe doesn’t respond, I lift my head and look at her. “What?”
Her whole face has collapsed. “I don’t like how you’re talking to me, Anthony. It isn’t nice.”
“Isn’t nice? I’m just bein’ real. Shit. Is that such an innovation for us? Bein’ real with each other?”
“I was just saying it’d be fun.”
“To have no responsibilities? Go clubbing every weekend? Of course it’d be fun. But it ain’t realistic.”
“I-Itcouldbe,” she stammers, annoyed.
“You’re livin’ in a dream world, Juni. Real people don’t get to have dreams. We gottagrindevery day for scraps of pleasure. You gotta wake up and see how life’s like for the rest of us sometimes.”
“Iamawake!” she cries.
“Hey,” interjects Pete, voice firm. “There’s no need for talking like that to her. She was just saying she had fun this weekend. I’d love to do this every weekend, wouldn’t you? Sounds like a blast.”
“And you’ve known her for all of three days,” I throw back at Pete. “I wouldn’t call you an expert in Dream World Barbie’s free way of thinking.”
“Stop with the Barbie jokes,” says Juni.
“What?Nowyou have a problem with them? You love them.”
“When you say it in a certain way, I don’t like it.” She rises off of Pete’s lap. “You never had a problem with me before.”
I sit up. “I don’t have a problem with you now. I’m just statin’ the obvious. Everyone in this room except you needs to work for a living. We don’t have a lottery ticket nest egg to live on.”
“Lottery—What?” Pete turns to Juni questioningly. “You won a lottery or something?”
Juni looks at him, blinking, then at me, appearingbewildered.
It hits me a second too late that maybe she was enjoying Pete not looking at her the way everyone else in this town does: a rich girl who doesn’t deserve her overnight riches, who wastes it away, who has no responsibilities or worries in the world, who can do whatever she pleases without any concern for the consequences.
I guess I’m an idiot yet again, because the apology won’t leave my lips, and Juni looks like she’s trying not to cry. “I need a little air. It’s like I’m gagging on my own tongue or … something.” She stumbles as she turns away, tripping over her own heels, then sees herself out the front door.
