Page 28 of Strange Lad

I went down the rabbit hole on Amazon looking for a birthday gift for Michael. We’re having a good-sized party for him this coming Saturday, and I have been a terrible friend, not securing his present ahead of time. Four days to get one seems too last minute. After knowing Michael for nearly fourteen years, you'd think I’d have a good idea of what to get him, but he’s impossible to shop for. He’s going to be upset about presents even if they’re all rocks.

I flick my gaze over at Oli, who is still wearing my too-small clothes. His are currently in my dryer. "I'm trying to figure out what to buy Michael,” I sigh.

His relaxed position changes at the mention of my friend and guitarist. All the color in his face floods down below the collar of his shirt. “Oh,” he says softly, reaching for his phone now.

“It’s his birthday.” I watch him closely, trying to figure out what’s got him all cagey.

“I know.”

“You do?” I wouldn’t have thought he’d remember it.

My mind races back in time to Michael and his twin, Morgan's, eighteenth birthday party. It wascrazy. So many people showed up, we were all hammered as shit—except Phoenix—and I’m fairly certain I ended up half-naked asleep on top of a washing machine. I can’t recall if Oli was there, though. I think he was invited.

Maybe.

I keep my eyes on him while he looks up motorcycle parts online.

He’s fucking panting. The wide barrel of his chest expands, damn near ripping my shirt in two with the strength of it.

Sometimes, the tiniest of things will trigger Oli's addiction. Maybe mentioning a birthday makes him think of parties. And parties often have more than just alcohol floating around; I know Michael’s did.

I wet my lips, grasping at random shit to say to shift his thoughts, to pull him out of this funk. Hustling to my knees, I inch as close as I can without him running from me, and I just blurt out the first thing that comes to my brain.

“I swallowed a marble once.”

He blinks, the color in his cheeks returning quickly, and lowers his phone to his lap. His pretty green eyes find mine, a thick blond eyebrow arching. “What?”

“Yup. I was thirteen.”

“Thirteen?!” Now he’s invested.

Laughing, I rub the back of my neck bashfully and nod. “Wasn’t the brightest kid ever. But I liked how smooth it felt in my mouth.”

He gulps. “And you swallowed it.”

“Down the hatch.”

“Did you go to the hospital?”

My cheeks burn as I admit this. “No. Came out all on its own.”

Oliver’s eyes bug out of his head, realization hitting him, and he tosses his head back and laughs. He laughs so loud that I join in. It’s a wonderful sound, full of heart and bass. It makes my chest pitter-patter. Deciding right then and there that I want to keep him smiling and light, I continue.

“The worst part was that it was disguised by poop. The only reason I knew it came out was because of the louddingat the bottom of the toilet.”

“Oh. My. God.” He wheezes, holding his stomach, feet kicking. “That isterrible, Jorge. Your poor hole.”

“It wasn’t a big marble. Barely even pushed.”

Laughing more, he rolls his head to face me, cheeks pink, a brilliant smile on his face. “Thank you for telling me. Now I know to hide my marbles.”

“I don’tstillsuck on marbles. God, Oli.” I huff in faux annoyance.

And then…somethinghappens.

It’s so fast that I can barely register it as fact instead of a hallucination.

Oli taps the tip of my nose with his finger.With his finger!

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