The Way You Make Me Feel(31)
*
“So then if you think of it that way, Tom Cruise is basically a wizard, transcending time and space.”
I stared at the guy in front of me, then wrapped my hands tighter around the warm bottle of beer I was holding. Rose and I had been talking to this conspiracy theorist about Tom Cruise at this house party for a solid five minutes.
The guy licked his lips nervously, his fair skin getting paler by the second. “So actually, if Cruise—”
“I have to pee,” I said, handing my drink to him as I grabbed Rose by the arm.
“Wow, I thought people got more stable once they graduated high school,” Rose said as we headed out of the living room toward the kitchen.
“Paranoid people exist at every age,” I shouted to be heard over the live band. Patrick had some sort of sixth sense for parties with a high ratio of hot dudes in bands. It had been hard to persuade Rose to come out, but I promised her cute boys and she had met us fifteen minutes later. Too bad we had been stuck with Tom Cruise Whiz.
It was stuffy in the apartment, so we went searching for some air through the kitchen. It had terrible fluorescent overhead lighting that was a harsh contrast to the cave feeling of the living room. Rose and I skirted by a group of girls in various denim cutoffs and cropped tanks while a tall man in a felted hat lectured them on something or another. They looked bored to tears, some of them even on their phones.
As we walked by the opining guy, I slipped into him, knocking his beer into his pinstripe shirt. “Watch it!” he yelped as he jumped away from me and wiped at his shirt furiously.
“Oh no. So sorry,” I said, holding up my hands apologetically. The group of girls scattered immediately. You’re welcome.
Rose laughed. “That was some good sabotage, Shin.” I resisted the urge to create further disruption, my prank itch temporarily scratched.
“Thanks, Carver.” I found a sliding door that led us out onto the balcony, which was miraculously empty. Taking a deep breath of fresh air, I asked, “Are we a buddy-cop movie now?”
Rose took a sip of her Diet Coke, which I had managed to find for her deep in the recesses of the refrigerator. “Carver and Shin. We need to have like, moments of culture clash.”
“I’ll teach you how to use chopsticks while you fumble and curse the entire time,” I said as I leaned against the railing.
The sliding door opened then. Felix.
“Hey. You guys hiding out here?”
I shrugged. “This party is full of the most unbearable dudes.”
Felix plopped down into a dirty plastic chair. “I know. Found out it’s some band’s apartment.”
“Figures.”
“But Patrick’s interested in some guy, so I think we’re stuck for a while.” He clinked his bottle on Rose’s can. Patrick and Felix had been surprised when I told them Rose was coming, especially because they had always been integral to Project Make Rose’s Life a Living Hell. But despite the initial awkwardness, everyone was being civil.
I leaned against the balcony railing and looked over at the CVS parking lot that was adjacent to us. “Isn’t Patrick’s new boyfriend going to have a problem with that?”
Felix laughed. “Define ‘boyfriend.’”
I took a sip of beer. “Speaking of significant others, where’s Cynthia?”
“She had to work tonight.”
My stomach rumbled. “Let’s go visit her!”
Felix rolled his eyes. “She can’t give us free food.”
“Where does she work?” Rose asked.
I interrupted Felix before he could answer. “Why not?!” Cynthia worked as a server at a burger place whose theme was literally “island stuff.” And getting us the occasional free meal was one of her finer qualities.
“Her new boss is a total dick.” He glanced at Rose. “She works at Island’s.”
“Well, I’m starving and this party sucks. You guys want to go find some food?”
Felix shrugged. “Sure.”
I looked over at Rose, who downed the rest of her drink. “Okay,” she said as she wiped off her mouth. I liked Game Rose.
A few minutes later, we left Patrick at the party with the dudes and headed out toward Sunset, where I could practically smell the tacos. My favorite truck, Cielo Tacos, was only a few blocks away. On the way over, Felix spent the entire time talking about Cynthia and the fight they’d just had. I tried my best to be attentive, but honestly it took every ounce of willpower not to just say, “Dump her already.” They had the same fight every week: Felix wasn’t spending enough time with her. When in reality, his life pretty much revolved around her every move. It was tedious. If this was what being in a serious relationship was like, count me the eff out. Rose was being nice and making the occasional sympathetic comment so that I didn’t have to.
A line had already formed at the truck. As I pulled out my wallet to see if I had enough cash, a guy approached me with a flyer in hand. “Food truck competition this summer!” he said cheerfully.
“No thanks, man,” Felix said with a wave.
But I grabbed it. “Thanks.”
The glossy card read AUGUST 11—ANNUAL LA FOOD TRUCK COMPETITION in hot-pink scrawl, the text laid over a photo of swaying palm trees. Under it:
The biggest competition in town! Winner takes home $100K. ALL trucks eligible, sign up on our website. Or just show up and enjoy some choice foods and local music.