Page 117 of Faking Forever 1
I nod, yearning for him to swipe the card already, and finally, he takes it, along with the ring. Beau is steadily appalled by the entire transaction.
“Look, Beau, I understand why you think this is ridiculous.
You’re on the outside looking in—if you’re my brother, you’ll back me on this. We… hooked up.” I give him a genuine look, hoping to gain his support.
“So all of this is because you’re pussy whipped?” he taps his fingers on the glass case, looking at his shoes.
“Are you kidding me?” I squint my eyes, “I wouldn’t have sex with her if I didn’t feel this strongly, Beau. It’s not like when we were younger, and I just got withanygirl. She’s different—she’s special.” I say, trying to keep my voice down.
He stares at me, then at the rings.
“You’re so serious about this. It’s creeping me out.”
I sigh, “You don’t think it’ll last, do you?” I squeeze my lips together, watching him.
His hesitation to respond answered my question, but my uncle had returned to save us from the tension.
“Okay, it’s all bagged up, and I charged you three hundred,”
he says with a grin.
“You didn’t have to do that, Uncle Tom. Thanks—thanks a lot.” I senselessly respond, still pondering over Beau’s opinion.
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What could be the reason he would think that we wouldn’t last?
I thought he would be the first to think we’d be forever. Call it vain of me, but it’s unexpected unless he knows something I don’t, which is highly unlikely. He’s plotted our relationship for years and, worse, rubbed it in our faces. If anything, I would’ve expected an “I told you so!”over anything. It’s better than theiced cold shoulder I’m receiving now. It has to be more than him thinking we’re moving too fast with that attitude. The entire day with him was off.Hewas off.
It also makes me wonder what exactly he thinks moving fast is. He’s one to talk.
We set up the boat in a continued tension but an unspoken one. We quietly handed each other things with the smallest of dialogue. I made some quick attempts at jokes, but he barely budged. I got crickets in return, and I wasluckyif he smiled.
At times, he didn’t even seem mentally present. Stumbling and disassociating. If it were something I‘d done, we’d never been afraid to speak our minds, but I fear I’ll have to speak up first this time. I don’t want him to be drinking again. And if Iamleaving Jersey, Idon’twant to go on bad terms with anyone. We’re too old to run around avoiding conflicts.
The boat wasn’t huge, but it was enough to hold everything I wanted. I wanted lanterns, roses, music, and everything else that I know makes girls go nuts. I even had special wine, thanks to Beau. He was a lot of help, whether he realized it or not. I know he wasn’t happy with my idea, but the fact that he was staying around to help me plan for this long says he has to care even a bit. I wasn’t going to complain, but itwasn’thelping the way he was disappearing. Every ten minutes or less, I had to frantically turn my head, only to find him crouched down or ignoring me and facing away.
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“Hey, Beau. Hand me more string, would you? I got one last lamp here.” I talk out loud, assuming he would hear me.
Crickets.
“B?” I turn around, dropping my arm and the lamp to my side.
He was sitting on the couch at the back of the boat, coughing up a storm, not catching a word I said. I let him ignore me, tiptoeing to his area. The closer I got, the more I could make out. He had a metal, shiny flask with a leather casing around it. It was fancy, nonetheless, but it was a flask, which was the problem. He spins the lid on the top of it, tightens it closed, and sticks it in his pocket. When his hand reappears near his face, the flask is replaced with a piece of gum that he tossed straight into his mouth.
Stunned by all of it, I almost couldn’t speak, but I forced myself to, “Beau, please tell me that was just some kind of way to comfort yourself and cope with sobriety—tell me it’s just water, buddy.”
He jolts at my voice, chewing down on the gum.
After a pause of contemplation, he answers me, “Look, it’s simply a way to take the edge off. Things have been sort of stressful at work, and with bills… it’s just a few sips.” he says, almost running his sentences together.
“Enough to carry a flask around, Beau? How long has this been a thing?” I pry, making my way to sit beside him, but he stands before I can.
