Page 75 of Beneath the Stain
Mackey felt a solid ping of loss in his chest.I do want you to stay. Maybe… maybe the friends thing has to come first. Maybe.
Maybe it does.
But that doesn’t mean you can go out and bang someone and think I don’t care.His breathing had quickened as he typed it. God, he sucked at this.
Backatcha, Mackey.
Great. Friends who are celibate.
Until you find someone your own age, I guess so.
And deluded. Deluded friends. Awesome. Healthiest relationship I’ve ever had.
Mackey’s eyes were closing—he had to type that last word six times.
We’re coming in two days. Anything you want us to bring?
Yeah—furniture catalogs and stuff. Don’t I get my own room?
Yup. We were bringing those anyway. Anything else?
Mackey thought about the dinner he’d just had, and suddenly he had a craving.Chocolate cake. I want some, bad. The kind with pudding in the middle, and fudge frosting.
There was a long pause, and Mackey wondered if someone had just walked in.
Done, Trav said in a minute.Anything else?
Just thank you. Seriously. Thank you.Mackey closed his eyes, thought that Trav and his brothers were waiting for him, and was profoundly grateful.
Thank you.
Night, Mackey.
Night, Trav.
Lights out.
My Baby Sent Me a Letter
THIN,PALE,and tired.
Trav grimaced. Mackey was right—Trav needed to see him not awful sometime. He’d probably be stunning.
But Mackey didn’t seem to care about how sad he looked. His hair was scraped back in its queue (his brown roots were beginning to show—he’d probably need a touch-up when he got out), and he was halfway through the gourmet chocolate cake Trav had ordered the minute Mackey had texted.
“Thmfh iff mrrelly fckkn gdd!” he garbled.
Blake, who was working on the other half from the other side, looked up and nodded.
Both of them swallowed in tandem, and Blake spoke up. “I didn’t know ’til Mackey pointed it out, but coke really fucks up your taste buds. Man, it’s like chocolate cake is seeing infucking color, you know?”
Mackey nodded and made sincere eye contact with Stevie, who was sitting next to him at the little picnic table. “Don’t ever start doing it,” he said. “You know how you love cherry freezies? That shit all goes away.”
Stevie looked appropriately horrified, and Jefferson put a comforting hand on his shoulder. Shelia had been making him cherry freezies since she got the damned blender—it was part of her mission to feed them better through Ninja.
“Yeah, well, we’re not as driven as you,” Stevie said apologetically.
Mackey paused in the middle of a bite. He chewed thoughtfully and swallowed. “Well, that’s not necessarily a bad thing,” he said after a minute. “I mean, you guys got each other, got Shelia—can’t do that shit if all you do is play guitar.” He wiped his mouth then, and Trav noticed his hand was shaking.
