Page 79 of Mr. Frosty Pants
He left it at that and got out of his car to pace the length of the Christmas tree lot while he waited. The scent of the trees filled his nose, and the cold air made his eyes burn, but it was only two trips down and back before his phone buzzed with RJ’s response.
He gave the number first and then said,Hope things are going well for you and Joel. Will be in NYC in March with Pearl Necklace if you want to hang.
He didn’t bother replying right away, clicking the number RJ had sent and going straight to a voice call. He hoped Joel was with Becca or, if not, that she might have some idea of where he might be. She was obviously his closest friend and Casey’s only shot.
“This must be Casey,” Becca said in lieu of a normal greeting. “RJ texted to ask if it was okay to give you my number,” she explained when he confirmed his identity. “But, sweet cheeks, you just missed him if it’s Joel you’re looking for.”
“Crap.” He climbed back into his SUV, turning on the heat to warm his cold fingers and nose. He’d left in such a hurry he hadn’t bothered looking for his coat or gloves. “How was he? Is he okay?”
“Believe it or not, Joel’s not so fragile that your daddy’s assholery is gonna break him completely. But I’m glad you’re looking for him all the same. I wasn’t sure about you.”
“Do you know where he was going?”
“Why? What do you plan to say or do to make up for what he heard?”
“He heard my father making my life all about him. That’s all he heard. I don’t know what Joel needs, but I’ll say anything, do anything, so long as we’re okay.”
“Wow. Is it his cranky-ass attitude you love best or his weird, crooked smile?”
“All of it.”
“Aw, such a sweetheart, aren’t you?” Becca laughed.
“Has he gone back home or…?”
“Home. He’s not actually avoiding you so much as doing that thing he does. You remember that thing he does, don’t you?”
“The big shove?”
“The big shove,” she agreed. A woman’s voice sounded in the background, and Becca sighed. “Coming, dear.” Sarcasm rolled through her tone. “Gotta go. I’m being summoned.”
“Thanks, Becca. I’ll head over to Joel’s now.”
“Listen, if it’s not going to work out because of the things your dad said, just be honest with yourself and with him now. Don’t drag it out, okay? Make it quick and complete. He’ll live. And you’ll live too. But if you’re going to do this thing? Do it all the way. Because he deserves someone who’ll go all in for him. Who’ll give up everything and everyone to be with him. He’s that good of a guy. Understand?”
“I do.”
“God, Andie, I’m saying bye now. Chill. Bye, Casey. Let’s talk again sometime when life isn’t a drama-rama, and we both don’t have places to go.”
On the drive back to Joel’s, Casey took his time, lining up his words carefully, trying to guess what Joel would do or say when he got there.
Stepping up to the front porch of the trailer, Casey heard the Gaslight Anthem’s signature grunge guitar and Brian Fallon’s gravelly-voiced lead vocals vibrating against the door. The lyrics to “Get Hurt,” a song represented on Joel’s forearm with an upside-down red heart like the album cover, came through loud and clear. Casey rested his forehead on the door for a second, listening and wondering what Joel was doing, thinking,feelingin there.
Finally, he raised his hand to knock, but before he could, the door jerked open and Joel stood there with his eyes narrowed, dark hair hanging in his face, and a cigarette between his lips. “Hey,” he said, sucking deeply and exhaling a stream of smoke up between them.
“Can I come in?”
Joel stepped back and motioned for Casey to enter. Bruno greeted Casey with his usual enthusiasm, but Joel just turned and walked into the kitchen, where he’d apparently baked more chocolate chip cookies from his frozen stash. Casey followed and sat at the table, where there was a pack of cigarettes, a tube of lube, and a box of condoms.
He swallowed hard. “I see you’ve been shopping.”
The music pounded around them, coming from the speakers in the living room.
“I didn’t know if you’d come tonight,” Joel said, raising a brow challengingly and taking a drag on his cigarette. “But I figured if you did, no matter how things go from here, we’d want these.”
Casey’s heart pounded as he stood, took a step closer to Joel, and stole the mostly-smoked cigarette from his mouth. He felt the damp paper against his own lips and shivered. Taking a drag, he then put it out in the sink and tossed the stub into the trash.
“I thought you were going to quit.”
