Page 41 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
Ian raises an eyebrow in his fiancée’s direction. “You didn’t think it weird that Vance just happened to show up at the church in Munich right when we were there and followed us around?”
Trish frowns. “But he said—”
“And then declared he wanted to come with us on a day trip to Neuschwanstein Castle before suddenly leaving while we shopped for souvenirs?”
Trish frowns harder.
Ian looks at me. “It’s because I gave him your contact information. That’s what he really wanted.” He tilts his head, looking very much like a lawyer giving his closing argument to the jury. “That doesn’t sound like a guy who just wants friends with benefits, does it?”
“I agree with Ian,” Jackie adds, turning away from the building and sliding into the conversation as if she was always listening. Which she probably was. “If you think about it logically—”
“As one does,” Jules murmurs.
“From Bodie’s contrary actions, he is either unable to say what he really wants or is oblivious to it,” Jackie continues. “‘Man is a confused creature; he knows not whence he comes or whither he goes, he knows little of the world, and above all, he knows little of himself.’”
Jules nods. “That sounds like one badass feminist quote right there.”
“Who said that, sugar?” Trish smiles at our genius friend.
“Johann Wolfgang von Goethe.” Jackie pushes up her glasses. “A German poet, politician, and scientist.”
“Do tell.” Trish loves when Jackie gets lost in her genius. We all do, really.
But my heart is beating too fast to listen as Jackie ventures on about an eighteenth century man’s accomplishments while we walk down a tree-lined sidewalk.
As I try not to lie to myself, I can’t help but admit that Ilikewhat I just heard. Which my street-smart sixth sense is telling me will only bring trouble my way.
We are just friends. Friends who slap uglies on the regular.
So Ian and Goethe can suck it.
Eleven
#FeministsGivegoodthanks
Rose
This isn’t so bad.
“Dude, how are you so good at this?” Jacob, Vance’s eleven-year-old nephew, tosses his Xbox controller on the orange shag rug.
Turns out Helen’s house is just a few blocks over from Flynn’s in the coveted Clear Lake Forest neighborhood near NASA.
Vance was relegated to plumber, being sent upstairs where Helen ordered him to stop her master bathroom sink from dripping. Shortly after, Helen shooed me out of the kitchen after I cut myself slicing cheese for the charcuterie board I brought. I’ve been in the seventies-style living room since.
Thankfully, Brittany, Vance’s sister, showed up a few minutes later with her boys in tow, dropping them off in front of the TV before scurrying out back with her husband Matt, each rolling a large cooler behind them. I’m not even sure she saw me sitting on the couch in her hurry.
“Dude. What can I say? Fortnite is my jam.” I lean over and nudge him with my shoulder, nearly falling into him. Helen’s couch is tweed and plaid and all things cozy. Which means deep divots in the couch cushions where people have sat over the years. Unlike my penthouse, Vance’s childhood home looks lived in. It looksreal, rather than magazine worthy.
I love it.
Jase, Jacob’s older brother, snickers from the brown leather recliner off to the side of the living room. “Man, you let a girl beat you?” He laughs harder. “And five times, too!”
“Oh Jase, Jase, Jase…” I shake my head at him, all dramatic disappointment. “There’s so much wrong with that misogynistic attitude of yours.”
Both Jacob and Jase, their dark hair, brown eyes, and high cheekbones making them look similar enough to be twins, tilt their heads to the right. Seeing as their dad Matt is blond and blue-eyed, the Bodaway genes are strong with these two.
“What’s miss-ah-ga—” Jacob shakes his head. “What did you say?”
