Page 47 of Bullet
“Yeah. I’ll see you Saturday.”
“Okay. Bye.”
“Bye.”
We hung up the call, and almost immediately, my phone rang again. It was Cameron, and a pang of guilt rushed over me. I’d been selling him excuses about meeting his girlfriend for two months now, but it was probably long overdue that I met up with him and did what I told him I would.
That would have to wait until the morning when I was far less drunk, though, and before I even had the chance to change into anything more comfortable or even pull my phone out of my hand, I passed out.
Chapter Seventeen
Bullet
For a minute, I thought a fire alarm or something was going off, but it was just my phone. It was still fastened in my hand from when I was holding it the night before, and the cats were still curled up on my back like I was some kind of luxury cat bed. I pulled my phone over to my face and saw that it was Cameron again and groaned. I really did have every intention of calling him back, but I was hoping to deal with my hangover first.
With a grunt, I pressed the button to answer the call and then set it on speaker and dropped it next to my head. “Hello?”
“Ohhi,” Cameron started, immediately melodramatic. “It’s me, your loving father. The one who saved you from the very brink of destruction. Who took you into his home and cared for you as if you were borne from mine own loins.”
“Don’t go Shakespeare on me, you weirdo,” I said.
“Your father who only loves you to the depths of his being. Who knows your favorite colors, your favorite foods, and your favorite shows. I even know your favorite brand of pen. Oh, how many pens of that brand I bought you because I love you so.”
In spite of the headache threatening to shatter my skull, I started to laugh. “You are so fucking dramatic.”
“Me,” he sang in a high-pitched voice, “who once dressed up as an actual power ranger because I knew it would make you feel better?”
“It made me feel better because the outfit finally matched the man,” I said.
He gasped and then sighed. “Goddammit, Harry. My soliloquy didn’t call for you to randomly say something so sweet.”
“Sorry,” I replied.
“Are you okay? You don’t sound good.”
“I may be slightly hungover,” I said.
“Hungover? You never drink like that.”
“Yeah, it’s kind of a long story. I’ll explain more next time I see ya.” Shaking my back a little so that the cats knew I was about to move, I slowly started to sit up on my arms, and once I felt both cats hop off my back, I stood up and started by stripping away my t-shirt to get a little cooler and then I picked up my phone and walked into the kitchen.
“When would that be, by the way,” Cameron asked. “Because I’ve been trying to get you over here for like, oh I don’t know, two months. You said you were going to meet Marisha.”
“I am. It’s just been hectic with the—”
“I know, I know, the expansion and the promotion and the new members and you’re dating again, and you know, I’m really happy for you, but I also want you to continue being my kid.”
He sounded so genuinely hurt that I wanted to punch myself in the face. I started a pot of coffee and filled up the cats’ dishes. “I know, Dad, I’m sorry. Really, I didn’t mean to neglect you.”
“I’ve been getting the feeling that you don’t want to meet Marisha. I meant what I said that I have no intention of proposing to her until you’ve met and approved of her. Is it that you know I won’t that you’re staying away? You don’t want me to marry her?” he asked.
“No, Dad, I swear. I wasn’t trying to prevent that at all. In fact, a lot has changed in these past couple of months and I want to meet her more than ever. Let’s do it soon. I’m serious. When do you want to do it? I’ll be there.”
“How about Saturday?” he asked, and I felt stupid.
“Okay, no, sorry. I have a date on Saturday.”
“Oh, that’s okay, son. No, really. That’s fine. I’ll just die an old lonely man. I’ll starve with no spouse to cook for me.”
