The Art of Losing(60)

We padded through the dry summer grass, and it stabbed the sensitive arches of my bare feet. When I declined the cigarette Raf held out to me, he raised his eyebrows.

“Trying to quit?” he asked.

“Yeah, I guess so,” I said. “It’s just . . . it’s kind of a gross habit, you know?”

“Oh, I know,” he said. He coughed, as if to demonstrate. “And I was actually pretty surprised the first time I saw you out here. You don’t seem like a smoker.”

I tried not to be offended, but I felt like he was saying he didn’t think I was cool. Maybe it was the discrepancy in how we dressed. I was barefoot, wearing cutoffs and a T-shirt that read Clone Club. Raf was wearing straight jeans, a fitted T-shirt, and canvas sneakers. He looked like he’d actually put a little effort into his outfit. I was feeling proud of myself for at least putting on makeup.

“Are you ever going to quit?” I asked.

“I want to, but Cajun keeps saying you shouldn’t try to quit everything at once. It leads to backslides.”

I snorted. “That sounds like an excuse no one would argue with. I mean, sure I’d rather an alcoholic quit drinking instead of smoking, if they could only manage one, but Cajun is a smoker, too. I don’t think you can trust him to give you advice.”

Raf smirked. “Yeah, I’ve considered that. But I’ll probably smoke less if you’re going to quit, at least.”

“Why? I barely smoke with you.”

He looked at me sheepishly. “Yeah, but I spend a lot of time out here, hoping you’ll come outside.”

“Wait, seriously? Well, now I feel bad…”

He nudged my shoulder with his, smiling that lopsided, mischievous grin. “You should.”

I suddenly wanted to kiss him again, not caring whether he tasted of cigarettes or not, and even though I leaned into him, I knew I wouldn’t. Raf seemed to know what I was thinking, and he stood, putting even more distance between us.

“So what did you really think of Watchmen?” I said. “The casting was pretty spot-on, right?”

He nodded. “Perfect. I was bummed they left out the comic-within-a-comic, but I get why. And I really loved the original ending—it’s just so campy. But a solid adaptation. I give it a B.”

I grinned, happy with his assessment, since it lined up nicely with my own.

“The book is always better,” I said, and he nodded. “So, what are you doing now?” I didn’t want him to leave. Because I didn’t want to go visit Audrey, and Cassidy was working. I hadn’t seen any of my other friends all summer, and I was perfectly happy to make that last for the next few weeks until school started up again. But I also didn’t want to be alone.

“I should go get ready for work,” he said. “I’ll see you later.”

“Yes, you will,” I said.





A Year and a Half Ago



The basement of Mike’s house was neutral territory for me and Ryan. We both owned it equally. Even though he had spent more time down there, I had sex with Mike there. So, like I said, equal footing. But when they played video games, I was the very obvious third wheel. That was about 70 percent of the time they were together.

I usually didn’t let it bother me. I could easily entertain myself because Mike’s comic collection was also housed in the basement. I didn’t complain often.

But one time when I did, a year into Mike’s and my relationship, Ryan tossed the controller to me as if he’d been waiting for it. I wasn’t sure if it was frustration, fear, or generosity that made him do it, but I tried to give it back either way. Ryan wouldn’t take it.

“Give it a shot,” he said, even though Mike groaned. Ryan hit him in the chest. “Dude, give your girlfriend a chance. Knowing her, she’ll probably kick both of our asses.”

I didn’t ask Ryan what he meant by that; I was too busy figuring out which character I was going to be. I decided I liked the female warrior with red skin and snakes for hair, à la Medusa.

“You play with her then,” Mike said, handing Ryan his controller. “I’ve already had my ass kicked by her plenty.”

“His fragile ego can’t take the defeat,” I said as I chose my weapon. “We decided a while back that it was best not to play each other.”

“If you want to get your ass handed to you, go for it,” Mike grumbled. “Let her make you look like an idiot for once.”

“I don’t make you look like an idiot,” I said. “You do that all on your own.”

He climbed over the back of the couch and headed up the stairs with a scowl on his face.

“I love you!” I called after him, feeling guilty. “And also, bring me a Diet Coke!”

Ryan shook his head at me. “You guys are weird.”

I smiled. “Don’t worry, Ry. Someday you’ll find a girl to be weird with, too.”

“I hope we’re nicer to each other than you guys are.” He sighed softly, and I realized he was probably lonelier than I knew.

“Listen, I’m gonna kick your ass here,” I said, “and then I’m going to go home and leave you and Mike to do whatever you guys had planned before I barged in.”

Ryan tried to protest, but I waved him off. “No, it’s for the best,” I said. “Because clearly I’m just embarrassing you.” I swiftly pulled his character’s digital spleen from his gut. “It’s definitely for the best.”