Page 14 of Oh Boy!
Nathan
“Put it on that wall. Over there.” My thumb flies in the direction of the wall opposite to the one where I’ve just asked the gallery assistant to display my biggest canvas.
“You think?” My tall friend stands a few feet away, awkwardly holding one of the pieces that he produced with the help of Veronica Parker. Those two are inseparable these days—except today because she plays shy around me. I’ve gotten into the habit of calling this chick his “mini-me,” although everyone else uses her fitting nickname, Tiny. They’ve gotten into the habit of working together, with him completing the calligraphy and painting and her complementing with collage and knot work. Apparently, they’re both too busy to devote enough time to finish their own shit, which doesn't make sense to me. But then again, opening up about his personal life isn’t Virgil’s preferred pastime. Hearing Sally call herself an introvert back in Colorado made me chuckle because that’s a concept that Virgil Blake takes to a whole other level. As if he has a secret life to protect or something! Still, calligraphy’s brought us closer over the years; he’s become what can be labeled as my best friend.
“I don’tthink, Virgil. Iknow.” My assertiveness has a way of getting under his skin, just like his tardiness does me. My dark eyes look up and bore into his pale blue ones for effect before I flash him the most conceited smile that I can muster, ignoring his frown. “By the way, man, what was your excuse for being late today? Again.” My icy tone is a break from my earlier playfulness, when we were discussing if Patrick Bateman from Bret Easton Ellis’sAmerican Psychowas a genuine psycho or just a delusional freak. Yeah, yeah, Virgil and I have fun talks sometimes.
He carefully places the canvas on the floor before swiveling to return my stare. “Look, Mr. I’ve-Always-Got-My-Shit-Together, I’ve had it with your snide comments every single time I’m late, which isn’t all the time, mind you.” He grumbles something I can’t hear while the color of his cheeks betrays how worked up he’s getting. “If you must know,” he grinds out between gritted teeth asCome Out and Playstarts playing in the background. Why is fate constantly fucking with me lately? “What’s that quote again?” The way his eyes zoom in on me feels like he’s searching my soul, which makes my skin crawl. An odd grin takes residence on his freckled face as his fingers mess up his already wayward strawberry blond hair. He exhales. “Oh, yeah! It goes like this: ‘Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle.’ This is the first and last time that I’ll say this, so listen up!” His voice is even, but his eyes tell a different story. Urgency. Chaos. Madness. “It might come as a shock, but my tardiness has nothing to do with negligence or carelessness. Quite the opposite. I’d have hoped that, by now, you’d know me better than that.” He grunts, making the most of his gruff voice, and shoots me a death stare.
From a distance, I can feel the weight of the gallery assistant’s stare on my back.Never seen friends argue?Mind your fucking business, whatever your name is!My head swivels Regan MacNeil style. Yes, I’m flexible in more ways than one; I admit, thinking ofThe Exorcistand focusing my ire on the useless guy grants me a reprieve from Virgil’s icy retort. I never would have suspected that my younger sidekick had it in him.
Once again, his fingers add to his bedhead, but his earlier blush is nowhere to be found. “Stop pissing me off already and get back to work on your setup, Price.” Without further ado, he ditches me and saunters off to place the canvas where I instructed.
WTF? Since when does he call me Price? Since never!
I’ve known the guy for five years. He’s often late and apologizes without any bullshit excuses, which I appreciate. But as far as I can remember, he’s never lost his cool or given me hell for fucking with him.
“What’s gotten into you?” My loud voice must express concern rather than anger because his shoulders hunch and he offers an apologetic smile.
I walk up to him. Ignoring me, he finishes hanging the canvas. At last, he stills and stares, his arms crossed over his chest. That’s when I notice a thumb-shaped red mark on his neck. I’m not about to joke by asking if being choked is one of his kinks, especially since the fingerprint is large… man-sized. Again, WTF? Virgil’s the most laid-back, peaceful guy I’ve ever met. Unlike me, I don’t see him getting into a bar fight… but then again, his impressive height prevents strangers from hassling him.
With his eyes trained on the art, he heaves a sigh. “I haven’t slept much. I had to drive up to Maine to take care of some business, and we only have a few hours to arrange our pieces before tonight’s show, so I didn’t have much of a choice.” He shrugs. “And you know the early Labor Day Weekend traffic didn’t help. I didn’t do it on purpose; I’m not that kind of guy.”
“I know, man. I can’t believe you drove over seven hours. We could have postponed this.” I shake my head in disbelief. What the hell is going on in my friend’s life that’s so urgent and important and yet can’t be revealed? It pains me, but that might be my own fault. I’ve never been a very attentive friend. I make a mental note to inquire more later; this is not the place or time.
I narrow my gaze and lighten the mood. “Just shoot me a text next time, okay? That way, if I’m scoring easy and willing pussy, I can stay buried in it until the last minute.” I wink, then chuckle at the realization that I’m being honest. “Actually, the girl I left behind wasn’t the hookup of the year, month, or week even.”
“You’re incorrigible.” His voice sounds amused. It’s about time! “Are you trying to break the Guinness World Record or something? Every time we talk, there’s a new girl in your bed…” Clearing his throat, he glances my way, a half-mocking, half-playful grin forming on his face. “I’m sooo impressed! And to think that on top of that you’re able to recall their names… most of the time.” His tone turns worried again. “Is this still because of the Fanny debacle?”
My brows raise as I shake my head, irked that he dared to broach the painful and forbidden subject. Virgil and I seem to have several grey areas that are better left unspoken. Like the details about how things went downhill with the woman that I wrongly believed to be my soul mate, crushing me. “Listen, it was great while it lasted.” When we briefly met as kids, Fanny and I felt an amazing connection that grew organically. When we met up again fifteen years later, we mistook our pent-up desire for undying love. All in all, oceans apart, I forged an idea of her and she did the same with me. I blindly threw myself into a relationship that I hoped would be our second chance at love. Truth is, I didn’t know her, carelessly imposed my beliefs on her, and in turn, we discovered that we weren’t meant to be. “I honestly thought she was my soulmate.” Scratching the back of my neck, I shrug. “I’m fine,” I insist, my voice full of resolve.
“Keep telling yourself that, Nathan. You’re such a stubborn ass.”
“Look who’s talking!”
Laughing now, we high-five. His mood swings give me whiplash. Still, we get one another as if our souls recognized one another; mention the word “bromance,” and I’d punch you in the face, though.
“Your coping mechanism is so typical for a guy. Thing is, you’re not just any guy, Nathan. That makes it borderline pathetic.”
“Fuck you, Virgil.” Of course, he catches the playfulness in my tone. “I’m perfectly happy. What I see, like, and desire, I chase, catch, and enjoy. End of story,” I conclude, about to go back to my side of the gallery.
I’m caught off guard when he says, “I know you want more, Nathan.”
“You think, huh?”
“I don’tthink, Nathan. Iknow,” he replies in an even voice, mimicking my earlier remark.
“If you stop being a PITA, I might tell you about this girl I met in Colorado over coffee. She’s… different, to say the least.”
“By different, you mean ugly?”
“Asshole,” I mutter, feeling protective of a woman I hardly know.
Am I trying to recreate what I thought I had with Fanny?
“I heard that.” The corner of his mouth quirks up.
“Good! Anyway, what I meant to say is that… Well, we became fast friends. She’s easy to talk to, calls me out on my bullshit, and helps me be a better listener.” My shoulders relax at this admission.
