Page 8 of Crybaby
“Ah, good old American cuisine,” Jason said before digging in.
“This Chinese.”
“No, it’s not. You fucking go to China with that food and they’ll laugh in your face.”
Sasha shrugged. “Is good. Not as good as Russian food, of course, but good.”
“Russian food is made of potatoes and mayonnaise. And beets. It’s made so you can survive through winter and then promptly die of scurvy come summertime.”
Sasha shook his head. “I cannot believe I am friend with such a weak American man.”
“Okay, beet-lover. Eat your fake Chinese food.”
“And Pizza not American. Is Italian.”
“Actually—”
Thatparticular fight carried them through their meal, after which they decided that they were done with the mall and all its bountiful offerings, and it was time to head back to Jason’s to play video games.
“You know,” Jason mused, buckling into the passenger seat of Sasha’s car as it rumbled to life, “we didn’t even end up getting Mitchy anything.”
Sasha closed his eyes and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. “I hate you.”
*****
“NoMario Kart. I’m fucking sick of that stupid game,” Jason said as he grabbed them a couple of beers from the fridge.
“You just bad at game.”
“You know what? Yes, I’ll admit it—Iambad, and I hate that stupid Bowser fuck, and you suck, so, there.” Jason yanked the caps off the bottles before settling onto the couch as Sasha laughed at his outburst.
“Thanks.” Sasha took the drink from him, taking a long pull before setting it on the coffee table.
“Let’s just playHalo. I know that—”
“Wait. I…um, actually, I wanted to, uh, talk.”
Jason placed his own beer down and turned slowly towards Sasha, taking in the uncharacteristic blush on his face. “Sure, buddy.”
And because Jason’s life was shit, Sasha looked up with his big dark eyes and said—
“You know…when I tell you I, um, like men.”
Jason tensed up and then made an effort to relax, to look open and non-judgmental.
“You say that maybe you help? Like, take to bar?”
For some ridiculous reason, Jason’s heart was pounding. He pushed out any thought that wanted to crawl in, that wanted to take over this moment that was just about Sasha.
“Yeah, man, of course. I can take you to a gay bar.”
Sasha twitched a little at the word ‘gay’ but nodded.
“You want, like…more of a clubby vibe? Like dancing and stuff?”
“You can dance?” Sasha teased, some of the shyness disappearing from his expression.
“I’ll have you know that I’m, like…a perfectly passable dancer.”
