Page 81 of Backslide
But how do you move on from something that’s been haunting you since some night under strobe lights when you were seventeen?
“How are things withyou?” Ben asks, now, like he’s read my mind. And maybe he has. We’ve been friends for that long. “How’s seeing Nellie?”
I rub at my shoulder absently. Adjust in my chair. Open my mouth to speak and then close it.
Ben’s eyes go wide. “That bad, huh?”
“It’s just—” I start.
“Yo! Whattup, losers?” Damien booms, collapsing into a chair beside us, condensation dripping from his pint of beer.
And that’s enough for me to clam up.
I realize looking at him now that I haven’t had as much fun hanging out with him on this trip as I expected. He’s always had a shitty side, but he also had this endearing, thoughtful core.
A crunchy outer shell, but a chewy center.
But it’s been all crunch and no give on this trip. It’s a lot. I wonder now if growing up for him has meant releasing that chiller side of himself instead of expanding it. Hardening against any vulnerability.
“Man, this is a crew of lightweights,” he says. “Am I right?”
Ben nods, agreeably. “We’re old, dude.”
“You’re old,” Damien says, leaning back in his chair like he owns the place. “I’m just getting started. I’m gonna be like Al Pacino, having babies with babies even when my balls are as wrinkled as your face.”
“That’s a visual I didn’t need,” I say.
Damien turns on me, his ice-blue eyes narrowing. He gestures toward me with his chin. “Where were you today? Speaking of lightweights. How come you bailed?”
“I just had shit to do,” I shrug. “Emails to catch up on, patient notes. That kind of thing.”
“Gotta pay the bills,” he nods, taking off his baseball cap, then settling it back on his head. “For a minute, I thought maybe you stayed back with Nellie.”
Whatever disparaging things you might say about Damien, and there are a lot, his EQ is scary high. He is not to be underestimated. Not much gets past him. Now, his assessing gaze is homed in on me.
I’m careful not to shift in my seat or avoid his eyes as I say, as casually as I can, “Nah. I didn’t even know she was staying back too.”
“Yeah?” he says, his head tilted. “So, you didn’t hang out?”
I shake my head. “I ran into her at one point for a sec, but that’s it.”
He nods, studying me.Why do I feel like I’m being interrogated?
The air has thickened with caveman tension, and I honestly don’t know why. It’s like I’m being sized up by one of my oldest friends.
I don’t care what he thinks, but no way I’m betraying Nell by revealing what happened. Damien has never been the most trustworthy and my antenna is definitely up now.
“I had a good talk with heralonein town yesterday,” he says, taking a swig of his beer as if it’s no big thing. Like they hang out all the time. “She was saying she felt like we always connected.”
Now it’s my turn to narrow my eyes. “Connected?”
“Yeah, that we always got each other. She was asking if we could hang out more in New York.” He shrugs like it’s whatever—like he could take it or leave it. “I guess I could give that a shot. Give her what she wants.”
The idea of Damien and Nell hanging out in New York and what that implies—the idea of her saying she’d want to spend time with him—makes me want to break something massive over his head. But I just let the corner of my mouth tug upward in a half-smile.
“That’s cool,” I say, gritting my teeth. “I never remember you guys hanging out back in the day.”
“Well, that was then,” he says. “Now is now.”
