Page 4 of Big Pucking Deal
“I don’t think I caught your name. I’m Joaquín,” I tell her, holding out my hand.
She takes it and says, “Oh, I know who you are.Everyoneknows who you are. I’m Brooke.”
“Nice to meet you, Brooke. And Fred and Roselyn are Jo and Jo’s parents.”
“AKA, my roommates until I find a job,” Jolie adds. “We can go wherever you want, Brooke. Your call.”
The redhead looks from Jolie to me to Jordan, her teeth gnawing on her lip the entire time. With a sigh she says, “Here’s the thing. I’m only twenty, so going to a bar or ordering a drink at a restaurant is out of the question. The other thing is I’m sweaty and dressed in leggings and shorts and a sports bra. I’m not even dressed appropriately for McDonald’s at the moment. I do live close but it’s on campus and I have a roommate. Sooo,” she shrugs and quirks her lips.
“Perfect,” I say, clapping my hands. “We’ll go to our place. Jo and I will grab some food and drinks, and you ladies meet us there. Jolie,” I turn to her. “I’ll give you the code and you two can go in and clean up before we get there.”
I give her a hug and tell her to give me her number so I can text her the code for the house. “It’s still the same number,” she says.
My head pops up and I gawk. “What? You mean it’s still the same from high school?”
She nods and I want to smack my head. Our parting was not a good one the last time I saw her, so texting her never even crossed my mind. Asshole move, I know, but I was a dumb kid who could only see the bright lights of success. After a couple of years, I just assumed Jolie changed her number as she never attempted to contact me.
It hurt but I wrote it off to a friendship that just wasn’t meant to last.
“Yup. Same one.”
I flip through the contacts in my phone and find her name.Dream Girlis what she’s saved under. No one, and I mean no one, knows this. Not even Jordan and he’s my best friend. More than a friend, which is why I can’t tell him about my feelings for Jolie.
“Jo, you guys cool with Chinese?” Jordan asks her, already pulling out his phone to place an order.
“Only if it’s from Ming’s.”
“Ooo. I love Ming’s. I’m down,” Brooke says, making our usual twenty minute debate quick and easy. “I want the Peppered Chicken with white rice. I’ll Venmo you some money. What’s your number?”
“Nah. Don’t worry about it,” Jordan tells her. “It’s on us.”
“And when he says us he means me.” I roll my eyes because it’s true, but I don’t mind.
I’m making more than enough and really don’t need or require much. My parents raised me to live within my means, and who knows how long this hockey gig will last. So I’ve splurged on a couple of things, my Porsche Targa being one the most expensive purchases, and saved the rest. Plus, my success is Jo’s success because I couldn’t have made it through the last few years without his phone calls and texts and visits to keep my spirits up when I thought I might not make it.
“Cool. We’ll see you there. And hey Jo,” I add before walking away. “I’m really glad you’re home. The three amigos wasn’t the same without you.”
She smiles shyly, and dips her chin, and I walk away holding my heart in my hands, ready to toss it over.
Laughter rings out when Brooke twists her arm to place her hand on the green circle, only to miss and slam to the ground.
“Y’all. Drunk Twister is legit the hardest thing I’ve ever done.” Her words are slurred and sloppy and her eyes are glazed.
I’m sure the rest of us look the same as we’ve each been taking shots each time we fall. And we’ve been falling a lot.
“Okay Brooke. You know what that means,” Jolie pauses for a moment then we all chime all. “Drink, drink, drink.”
She sighs and gets to her feet clumsily and wobbles over to where the glasses and alcohol sit on the table. With a shaky hand, she pours herself a shot, picks it up and throws it back. Her body shivers and shakes and she makes a gagging sound.
“That’s it. I’m tapping out. I can’t drink one more or I will totally puke.” She walks over to the couch and plops down, throwing her head back and closing her eyes.
“Yeah, I think I’m done too.” Jordan pushes up from his very uncomfortable position on the gameboard and ends up crawling to lean back against the couch where Brooke sits.
I look at Jolie and give her a waggle of my brow. “Looks like it’s you and me, Jo.”
She does what she thinks is a brow waggle like mine, but it’s really just her forehead scrunching and unscrunching. “So it is…Jo.”
“Spin it, Jordan,” I call out to him and he groans.
