Page 49 of Shutout
This is why I didn’t want to talk with him after the incident. I knew he’d make me come around and I wanted to hold onto my anger longer. Except I hurt him too—bad enough that he got a tattoo about it.
My eyes focus on the ink as he picks up a second slice of his gluten bomb of a pizza. My eyes fall to his side, encased in a perfectly tailored button shirt. The other time at the library, when he flashed his abs and nearly made me die of anosebleed, I caught glimpse of another tattoo against his ribs. It was a bunch of numbers. I wonder if he’d been about to tell me about it before Mina interrupted us.
“Anyway,” Mina continues, “I’ll be pleasant for tonight since you’re feeding me. But from tomorrow you should start watching your back.”
“You’re on,” he says as if this was a normal conversation that he feels the need to keep entertaining.
I shake my head. “You guys are weird.”
“Speaking of,” Mina says, brushing flour off her hands. “I have to go work a late shift at the school library now, where I’m sure to see weird things like the guy who always sits alone in the history hallway to pick his nose for an hour, or the couple who are technically banned because we keep finding them getting it on in random corners.”
Slowly, Brooklyn turns his head to me and I think he’s going to remark on how particular my friend is, except that he says, “Tell me you’re not hanging out at the library on your own where any of these weirdoes could do something to you, right?”
I snort. “Of course not, big brother.”
“Ew, I’m not your brother,” he says in a deadpanned voice. “I’m also far more handsome than him. And talented. And popular. And frankly, my communication skills are so much better than all his grunts and glowers.”
Next to him, Mina gives me a look that is supposed to convey a lot of meaning, except I don’t get it. Finally, she mouths, “We’ll talk.”
Well, that doesn’t sound good.
Aloud, she says something even worse. “Anyway, I’ll leave you two alone until Dee arrives.”
“Enjoy your exhibitionists,” Brooke returns offhand as he chews.
Mina makes a rude gesture that only makes him grin. Oneday they’re going to be the best of friends and that day I’ll start living in fear of the terror they’ll inflict upon me. Terror that I’m already feeling the first tendrils of as I watch Mina wash her hands and collect her purse. She twirls her fingers in farewell before leaving.
The sound of the front door closing echoes around the quiet.
I am not going to look at Brooklyn now.
“I’m full,” I say too loudly, hoping he takes that as a hint to start packing up. “Thanks for the pizza.” I start closing the box with three fourths of the pizza still in it.
“I can help you pick up.”
“No, take your time eating. You’re probably still hungry.”
I could kick myself. Brooke himself gave me the perfect out and I didn’t take it. Almost like I don’t actually want him to leave.
Who am I trying to fool? I wish he could stay all night, not necessarily for nefarious purposes, but just to chat. We used to stay up super late talking about any and everything before I went and gave him a reason for a tattoo. Not that I’m the sole person responsible for it. I’m only a fraction of its meaning.
My head’s a mess already and it’s only been five minutes since Mina left. I need an outlet for all this nervous energy that won’t make me screw things up.
“I, um, I’m gonna get started on the dishes.” I can feel him watching me while I stand up.
“Okay.”
I can breathe easier in the kitchen, with a whole island and barstools in between. After rolling the sleeves of my sweatshirt, I squirt a big dollop of soap on the sponge and get to work.
“So, you wanted to talk about the game?” I ask, picking up on a thread of conversation from before Hurricane Mina.
“I did.”
I jump in my skin, because Brooke’s right behind me.
Glancing over my shoulder, I find him on this side of the kitchen island. How did he even get all the way here without me noticing?
Right, he’s not wearing shoes either.
