Page 8 of Necessary Roughness
Knox and I glanced at each other, then busted out laughing.
“I don’t know why you’re laughing,” Logan scolded. “That was a warm shot of truth, with no chaser.”
“Okay, I’ve got one,” Knox said.
“I’m not done defending peanuts!” Logan complained.
“This is going to sound silly…” Knox said.
“Yes, good,” I said.
“Five should be an even number.”
I stared up at him. He was being totally serious. Logan was narrowing his eyes in confusion.
“Hear me out,” Knox said, gesturing with his red solo cup. “Five haseven number energy. The multiples of five are nice and orderly. Five, ten, fifteen, twenty, twenty-five, thirty. That’s even number shit.”
“Kind of like how the letter Y is a vowel sometimes?” I said.
Knox jabbed a finger at me. “Yes! Exactly! I’m glad someone understands.”
“She’s just humoring you,” Logan muttered.
Knox put his arm around me and gave me a friendly little sideways hug. “And I appreciate her support.”
I leaned into him, savoring the physical contact. It was innocent. It was friendly.
But it felt like the promise of more. I let my hand slide along his ribs, feeling the bumps of hard muscle underneath his shirt, before he pulled away.
My phone vibrated in my pocket, so I pulled it out.
Gayden: You doing okay, honey? Just checking in.
Me: Totally fine, thanks!
Logan was staring at my phone with alarm, so I quickly said, “Oh, that’s just my friend Jayden. He’s gay. That’s why he calls me honey.”
“I don’t think he cares about who you’re texting,” Knox said. “He’s more concerned about thekindof phone you have.”
I gazed at the flip-phone in my hand. “Oh, yeah. Sometimes I forget people think this is weird.”
“Thinkit’s weird?” Knox said. “Sloane, having a flip-phoneisweird.”
“You’re either a drug dealer, or a time traveler,” Logan said.
Knox gasped. “Or a time-traveling drug dealer!”
“Were the nineties as great as everyone says?” Logan asked. “Is Kurt Cobain still alive in your timeline?”
Their bombardment of teases had me in stitches, and soon they were joining me in laughter.
“I ditched my iPhone for this bad boy last year,” I explained. “I realized a smart phone was bad for me. I got addicted to the dopamine rush of scrolling social media.”
“Uh, yeah,” Logan said. “That dopamine rush is fucking awesome.”
“I totally get your perspective,” Knox said, holding up his own iPhone. “I feel tethered to this thing. And not in a good way.”
“Exactly! Since getting rid of it, I read a lot more. Especially at night before bed. So much better than doomscrolling.”
