Page 59 of Tyler
I’ll see him soon. Eight days. That’s all that’s left of our nine-week stretch apart since I visited him. Eight measly days feel like nothing compared to the eight months that have passed since he started touring.
Eight. Fucking. Months.
Shit, don’t we have our first anniversary coming up or something? I don’t even know what date we first kissed or started dating, or when it was official. Am I being a terrible partner now? Isn’t this something I’m supposed to know?
Fuck me, I know all the dates from that stupidHistory of Modern Economicscourse, but I can’t remember when we got together last year?
I grab my phone out of my armband, kicking my sneakers out and lounging back as I fire off a message, hoping he’s done with interviews.
Me:Quick, when is our one-year anniversary?
The typing bubble pops up right away, and the corners of my mouth pull up.
Jace:Did you seriously forget?
The smile vanishes in an instant.
Me: Fuck, I’m so sorry. I just can’t remember when exactly it was. Thanksgiving? Or before that?
Jace:I can’t believe you forgot our anniversary…
Shit. I cringe. I thought he’d be cool about it, but…
Me:I swear I remember thevibe, just not the date.
Jace:I’m messing with you. I have no fucking clue, babe.
Me:Dude. Fuck you.
There’s a pause before his next message lands.
Jace:I’d love to. Eight more days, babe, before I’ve got you back inside me. Or me inside you. Or we could just use the clones again. Properly, this time.
I bite my bottom lip, grinning like a fool, cheeks heating as I glance around the quiet beach. Not that anyone’s here to see me blush like some lovesick teenager, but still…
Me:Eight more days. Can’t wait either…
Me:Are we being terrible gays right now btw? Forgetting our anniversary? Or is that stereotyping?
Three messages come in back-to-back:
Jace:I think we’re more like stereotypedudes, dude.
Jace:I don’t care about a date. I only care about you.
Jace: Missy says it’s October 20th btw. That was when we performed at Tight Spot…
Oh, we’resodoomed.
Me:Jesus. That was more than a week ago.
Jace: Yup. Happy belated, babe. We suck at anniversaries but excel at sucking other things, so I think it evens out.
I snort, the corners of my mouth pulling up in an amused grin.
Before I can type anything back, his face pops up on my screen as he calls me, and my heart lifts instantly, the sour mood I’d been dragging around evaporating just like that, like fucking magic.
Because that’s what Jace is.
