Page 71 of F*ckboys

Fallon: Roxy! Of course I remember you! How have you been? What's up?

Roxy: Okay, so I know this is a bit out of the blue, but, Fallon, would you like to have lunch with me?!

This is definitely unexpected. But, given I'm trying to get all the tea on Aksel and figure out what to do with him, this might be useful. And Roxy has always been super nice to me, so I figure there's no harm. Food with a fun person. I'm in.

Fallon: It's a bit of a surprise but it's great to hear from you! Sure, I'd love to catch up.

The moment I hit send, I realize I'm a little disarmed by Roxy's genuine warmth. It's a stark contrast to her rebellious nature, but I know she means it. I'm sure the connection between Aksel and me, a smoldering ember that refuses to be extinguished, has not gone unnoticed by his perceptive younger sister. And so she's reached out, offering an olive branch. Maybe she's being nosy, or perhaps protective of her brother. Or maybe he's using her as a messenger and she has something important to tell me. I just don't know. But I guess I'm about to find out.

Roxy: I haven't been to Rubio's for a while. You in?

I laugh when I read her text. Rubio's is an old school hangout from way back. A classic joint with an extensive comfort food menu and a chill vibe. It sounds like the perfect location for diffusing the tension that's building inside me at the thought of interacting with another member of the King family. Especially while everything's all up in the air with Aksel.

We figure out a time to meet that gives me just enough time to get across town.

The warmth of the restaurant embraces me, a stark contrast to the chill outside, its atmosphere pulsing with life. I take in the mingling scents of exotic spices and fresh herbs, my stomachgrowling in anticipation. Roxy's eyes dance with excitement as we slide into the cozy booth, our knees brushing against each other. The hum of conversation and clinking cutlery adds to my nerves, driving me into slight sensory overload.

"I thought this might be a blast from the past!" Roxy grins, her eyes twinkling. "Have you been here since you were in college?"

I shake my head, my fingers absently tracing the edge of the plastic-covered menu. "No, but it still looks amazing. Like it's finally entered the current decade but with the same nostalgic feel, if that makes sense." I laugh. "Gosh, more than half the menu is the same as it was back then. The prices have just tripled."

"Trust me, it's just the same," she assures me with a grin. "I don't know about you, but I'm starving."

As we peruse the menu, a subtle energy crackles between us, a pulsating anticipation that speaks of rekindled camaraderie. Our shared connection to Aksel serving as a foundation upon which something real can grow.

But I still don't know why she invited me here, and Aksel is still her brother. Beneath the surface, shadows linger. Memories of Aksel's past betrayals simmer within me, threatening to boil over at the slightest provocation. They're not Roxy's fault, so I push those thoughts away, determined to embrace this opportunity, hoping to find solace in the company of someone who understands the complexities of loving Aksel.

"Have you ever tried Moroccan food before?" she asks, her voice tinged with genuine curiosity. A small smile plays on her lips, making me wonder if she's already pictured my reaction to the unfamiliar cuisine. "They've added it to the menu fairly recently. They really do have everything here now."

I laugh. Rubio's is known for adding additional cuisines at an exponential rate, every time the owner takes a vacationsomewhere, really, and I'm sure the food is not at all authentic, but nearly everything has always hit the spot.

"Can't say that I have," I admit, feeling the initial awkwardness begin to dissipate. "But I've been wanting to."

"Then you're in for a treat," Roxy grins, her eyes sparkling with mischief. She leans forward, her elbows resting on the table as we peruse the menu together. "Let's see... How about we start with some b'stilla and share a tagine?"

"Sounds delicious," I agree, following her lead as we place our order.

As we wait for our meal, the conversation flows easily between us. Roxy shares stories of her rebellious youth—sneaking out of the house, skipping school, and wild parties that would give any parent nightmares. I can't help but laugh at her antics, finding myself drawn in by her magnetic energy. A couple of her stories have me laughing so hard I feel happy tears forming in the corners of my eyes for the first time in a long time. It's a welcome reprieve from the darkness that has become all too familiar in recent times.

"Your turn," she says, her eyes twinkling with genuine interest. "Tell me something about yourself that no one else knows."

I hesitate for a moment, unsure of what to reveal. But then I remember her vulnerability, her willingness to share her own experiences, and decide to reciprocate with one of the more outlandish experiences I can think of. At least, one that doesn't involve her brother.

"Well, while I was in college, I accidentally became a phone sex worker. For like five minutes."

"Wait, you what?!" She cracks up laughing. "Tell me more, I need to know!"

"Well, I applied for a job and I expected it to be one of those standard telemarketing type things. It said I needed customer service skills and to be over 18 with a pleasant and professionalphone manner. So I applied and got the job, and then they said 'just follow the script'. So I got on the phone and answered my first call. Sure enough, the script popped up and then I realized what I'd gotten myself into. I couldn't get through the call without blushing and laughing so hard I almost peed my pants!"

Roxy is laughing so hard she almost spits out her drink. "Oh my god. The great Fallon Dempsey, accidental teenage phone sex worker."

I laugh as well. "Right? Like nothing wrong with that profession at all. In fact, I think it could be quite fun. I just had no idea that's what I'd been hired to do. Could have used a warning. I thought I'd be asking people survey questions about cheeseburgers or appliances or something."

The conversation continues to flow easily. But as the lunch progresses, something shifts, and I feel familiar shadows clawing at the corners of my mind. I try to hide my concern, but Roxy, ever observant, seems to catch glimpses of the unsettling undercurrent that flows just beneath the surface of our conversation. When she innocently mentions a recent bad date, it strikes a chord within me and I find it hard to conceal my emotions. Yet another tale of a predatory, narcissistic man taking advantage of a woman who doesn't deserve it.

As we part ways, Roxy appears somewhat confused, her brows furrowed in concern. "Hey, sorry if I overstepped by reaching out. I just missed you and Aksel mentioned your name and I...".

As soon as she says the words, her hand flies across her mouth.

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