Page 100 of The Friend Scheme
And he passes with flying colors.
I sigh. “No, I can talk about it. He told me I frustrate him sometimes. I know that’s not much, but like… I don’t want to frustrate him. He’s my dad, you know?”
“I completely get it. I’m sorry. But I’d bet he’d be really upset if he found out he’d hurt your feelings. I know my dad says hurtful stuff all the time, and I don’t think he has any idea he’s doing it. I think it’s just a dad thing, you shouldn’t take it personally.”
I like the thought of that.
“That was the perfect thing to make me feel better,” I say. “And you just, like, knew it.”
He grins. “I’m glad. It gets better, too. I actually have something in mind for right now. I’ve always had this idea of what I’d do if I got you in my bedroom.”
UM.
“Oh God, not that!” he says. “I mean, that could be fun, too. But that’s not what I’m talking about. Just, come with me.”
He leads me to his bedroom and closes the door behind him. Then he locks it.
“So what’s the plan?” I ask.
He turns his TV on.
“I was thinking we could watchMulholland Drive? I’ve been meaning to ever since you recommended it, but I haven’t gotten around to it yet.”
Oh my God.
My favorite movie.
He needs to be less cute. I can’t handle this.
“You remembered,” I say.
“Of course,” he says, shrugging. “Like I remember you loveDonnie Darko, and how you had a crush on Jake Gyllenhaal when you were a kid, and how you can name every single Pokémon.”
“And here I was thinking guys were supposed to be bad listeners.”
“Normally I am. Just not with you.”
I’m floored.
“I remember everything you’ve told me, by the way,” I say. “Like how your favorite Pokémon is Arcanine, and how you lovethe Bartimaeus trilogy, and your big crush as a kid was on Sam Winchester. It’s easy with you, for some reason.”
“I feel the same about you.”
“Cool. Anyway. Um, should we watch the movie?”
“Yeah, I guess.”
He sits down on his bed, propped up against the headrest. I think he’d be cool with me joining him on the bed, but I don’t want to assume anything, so I wheel his desk chair over to the side of the bed.
I don’t know exactly what we’re doing.
I sit down on the chair.
He watches me. I think he’s going to say something, but then he turns away, and scrolls through the apps on the TV. He loads Netflix, then searches forMulholland Driveand finds it.
“Do you like horror, by the way?” I ask.
“Yeah. They freak me out, though. I think it’s because, like, I sort of believe in that stuff. Like, I totally think ghosts and stuff could be real. That might be dumb.”
