Page 36 of The Golden Boy's Guide to Bipolar
“Hey, you,” I say back, the sight of him pulling my lips into a grin of my own. It’s not like I was in a particularly good mood before he got here, but something about him just makes me feel lighter.
“Hey,Yami,” Yami says, inserting herself into whatever moment Jamal and I definitely were not just having. She walks out the door and hugs Jamal, which kind of gives me permission to hug him too. It’s a quick hug. Something that says ‘We’re friends,’ I think. Still, I can’t help but notice he’s wearing the “I’m single” cologne we bought together. And, really, is it still singles cologne if we’re wearing it together? Fuck, my head hurts.
Yami practically pushes past Jamal and me on her way out the door when she hears Bo’s car pull up next.
Jamal and I turn around to see Yami run into a hug, and Bo picks her up, squeezing her tight. Jamal clears his throat awkwardly.
“Should we give them a minute?” he asks.
“Nah, let’s go bug ’em,” I say mischievously, and run past Jamal to hug Bo.
I’m sure it’s not lost on Jamal that I hug Bo tighter than I hugged him, but he doesn’t show it. What he does show is a whole lifetime’s worth of awkwardness on the ride to the party. He’s keeping both hands on the wheel instead of resting one on the center console like he did when we were together. That was always his way of inviting me to hold his hand, but obviously that’s off the table right now. Which shouldn’t bother me because this is whatIwanted.
Ugh. I need a drink.
Luckily, there are plenty of those where we’re headed. There’s asign on the door that says to go through the backyard gate, so we go that way. The music shakes the blood in my veins like I’ve had too much caffeine.
Once we’re in the gate but before we get to the crowd, Yami takes out her phone and pulls us all in for a selfie. I throw one arm around her and one around Jamal, and Bo kisses Yami’s cheek as the flash goes off. Then Yami and Bo slip away, and a few seconds later, I get a notification that I’m tagged in her story.
I share it absent-mindedly, and I swear it’s not even a full five seconds before I get a like from Bianca, of all people. I’m glad Yami’s already ahead of us, because I don’t hide my reactions that well. Pretty sure Bianca has her notifications turned on for me since she likes basically anything I post involving Yami. Not sure if that’s her way of trying to be nice or passive-aggressive or what, but I’m staying out of it.
I pocket my phone and follow Jamal toward everyone else, but we don’t get far before he suddenly stops. “Shit, I didn’t realize...” He turns to me. “Do you want to leave?”
I look behind his shoulder to see that while Nick isn’t here, Avery and two of their other friends are. I don’t blame Jamal for assuming they wouldn’t be here without Nick, since I’ve barely ever seen them without their ringleader. I accidentally catch Avery’s eyes, but he just goes back to his conversation like he didn’t notice me at all.
“Nah, we’re already here,” I finally answer. Without Nick or even the whole group, I doubt Avery’s stupid enough to go starting shit. “Let’s do some shots.” I nod toward the sliding door, and Jamal follows me inside to the kitchen.
I pour one out for me, then one for Jamal.
“I’ll stick with water since I’m driving,” he says, and I shrug and take both shots in my hands.
“Cheers to me, then,” I say, clinking the two shot glasses together and downing them one after the other. It’s crowded enough that the kitchen is pretty much the only place to hang out without having strangers breathing on your neck, so I lean against the fridge while Jamal hops back to sit on the counter behind him.
I catch a glimpse of Yami and Bo from the living room. They’re dancing together, but Yami is looking around the room instead of at Bo. Her eyes find mine, and she holds a thumb up at me. Then Bo puts a gentle hand on Yami’s cheek to coax her to look back at her girlfriend. I roll my eyes. We’re at a damn party, and Yami still can’t stop worrying about me.
I pour another shot for myself and down it.
“Question,” Jamal says, leaning toward me with a curious look in his eye.
“What’s up?” I can’t help but smile. I love his random questions.
“If you had to battle any cryptid, assuming the terrain isn’t deadly for either of you, which cryptid would you pick?”
“Can it be a battle of wits?” I ask. “Because in the ring is one thing, but put me in a battle of wits against Bigfoot, I got that in the bag.”
Jamal’s eyes widen. “Trust me, you donotwant to challenge a sasquatch to a battle of wits. I don’t care if you’re Albert Einstein, those things are scary smart.”
Part of me wants to ask about it, because I’m sure Jamal has a wealth of Bigfoot knowledgeaboutBigfoot knowledge ready to go.I keep my question to myself, though, since his hypothetical came first. I take another shot before giving my answer another go.
“Okay, then I’ll go with a regular battle against a jackalope. They’re a little too cute to hurt, but I feel like I could scare it away before it came to that.”
Jamal nods his approval. “I’d pick the Loveland frogman. It’d probably take one good punch to his soft belly for him to throw up.”
I’m about to ask what the hell the Loveland frogman is when the door to the yard opens, and I feel likeI’mgonna throw up.
I figured Bianca knew whose party we were at since she liked my story, but I didn’t think she was obsessed enough to leave her date and bring Nick here.
He stumbles in with one hand around Bianca’s waist until he gets to Avery and them, who’ve made their way inside by now. He practically pushes Bianca away to say hi way too loudly and give them all handshake hugs. I don’t know what the nature of their date was, but they’re both clearly already drunk.
