Page 41 of Composed at Randy's
They’re all so kind and understanding and change the subject as quickly as possible anytime I try and bring it up. I don't think they're being assholes about it, either. No, I think they all genuinely believe that they’re helping me and just trying to spare my dignity or something.
This really sucks, because if I really was homeless, I couldn't imagine a better group to have fallen in with.
But I have responsibilities, and I'm terrible at advocating for myself, so I'm gonna have to go with my Grand Plan.
And look at that, the main part of the plan just went into the back of the restaurant.
Damn it. Now I have to actually do it.
“I have to go to the bathroom, sweetie,” I whisper into Bael’s ear. “I'll be right back.”
He gives me a sad little frown and moves his hand from my leg reluctantly. “I can go with you if you want.”
I promise myself that I will contact him as soon as I’m able, and that this is not goodbye forever, just goodbye for an hour or two. Once everything is cleared up, Bael and I can sail off into the sunset together, leaving a trail of video games and condoms in our wake.
This gives me the courage to laugh and say, “I think I'll be okay on my own for five minutes.”
He stands up and lets me scoot out of the booth, and I give him a kiss on the cheek. I want to give him a long, lingering goodbye kiss, but it's impossible to give somebody one of those without them getting suspicious. So instead, I grab his butt to tide me over until I see him again.
I skip off happily to the bathroom area and freeze when I realize it's just doors to single-person gender-neutral bathrooms. I mean, hooray for accessibility, but am I just going to have to stand out here like a creep until my target shows up?
That is exactly what I have to do, and I don't even have a phone to hide behind to ease the awkwardness. Perfect.
At least I'm not standing where the band can see me. I sure hope Archie isn't one of those people who spends five hours in the bathroom.
It feels like nine years, but it's probably only about a minute and a half before Archie is done. As soon as he leaves the bathroom, I grab him by a red plaid flannel sleeve, put my finger over my lips, and drag him through the back exit.
Archie is exactly as cool as I thought he would be, because he doesn't say a thing until the door closes behind us and we're alone in the alley. There’s a sticker of Dwayne ‘The Rock’ Johnson right beside the door for some reason, but I don’t get a chance to ponder its existence because Archie jumps right to the point.
“So you did need help?”
I nod violently.
“Don't worry, kid, I got you. I'll get you out of here first, and then we'll call the cops.”
“No!” I shout, and then realize I'm being all covert and stuff, so I change to whisper-shouting. “Don't call the cops! They haven't done anything wrong. I'm just terrible at explaining myself, and they don't understand. I need you to help me figure out a way to contact my people so I can go home. They think I'm homeless and I'm really, really not.”
“Aw, kid…” Archie rubs the back of his neck and gives me aoh, you're one of those smooth brained people, aren't you?look, and I feel my face go hot. “What do you need me to do?”
As I sort it all out in my mind, I realize there were a lot of things I could have done differently at the beginning of this adventure if I'd been more clear-headed, but I wasn't, and I’ve reached the point with the band that this is really the best way to get what I need. Otherwise, I'm going to let Bael puppy eye me right onto that tour bus, and then gods know how long it'll be before I get back home.
I know that sounds crazy and pathetic, but he's so kind and so freaking sweet. Also, that dick of his is pure magic. Saying no to any of that is far beyond anything I'm capable of.
“I need you to find a way to contact my agent,” I say finally. Archie is super chill to be giving me space to work out what I want to do, and I appreciate that in a person. It’s a basic necessity in dealing with me. “But can we get out of here first?”
Archie gives me a wry smile, nods toward a fire-engine red motorcycle, and says, “Hop on.”
A very thrilling fifteen minutes later and we are at a posh little coffee shop.
I am a shaky, wobbly little thing, and I cling to Archie as I get off his bike. That was insanely fun, and I want my own bike now,but if Kai values his life, he will never allow me to buy one. Marty would just straight up fucking kill him.
And then probably me too for tricking Kai into letting me get one in the first place.
But I digress. Archie lets me hang on to him until I get my footing and then does me the favor of pretending like I wasn’t treating him, a perfect stranger, like my personal servant.
“We don't have to do this here if you don't want to,” I say. “I don't have the money to treat you to coffee right now, so we can do this at your place if it's easier.”
Archie sighs like one of my old art history teachers used to sigh when he realized I’d accidentally destroyed yet another of my textbooks by drawing all over the pages instead of taking notes.
