Page 125 of Devoured

“Every last one of them. Really think about every situation you were in as you tell me about your night. And when you’re done, we can talk about what went wrong or what could have gone wrong. Or what could have been better.”

“The night was insane. We were lucky we didn’t get arrested.”

“Good start. So what happened next?”

“We wound up naked in front of a bunch of strangers. Or wait. No, I remember more than that…”

Chapter 31

Friday

A million years ago again

“No, we need to climb it,” Mason said as he stared up at the John Harvard statue. “And sit on his little head.”

I couldn’t stop laughing. “So you want to sit on his head like you’re his hat?”

“Exactly. Because he’s not wearing one. Why the fuck isn’t he wearing a hat?”

Matt and Rob started laughing with me. Mason had been sober for over a month. And from how fucked up we usually were before his season started…getting back to that level after being clean had its consequences. The main one being that Mason wanted to sit on the head of the John Harvard statue like a little hat.

“But it’s better than a hat,” Mason said.

“How exactly?” The cool autumn breeze blew and I shivered. Actually, maybe a hat didn’t seem like such a bad idea right now.

“It’ll be like a double decker John Harvard statue. Because I’m going to make the same pose as him. I’ll put my feet on his arms.”

“Why the fuck?” Matt asked.

“Because! You’ll see. Help me up.”

I wasn’t going tonothelp him up. My feet crunched in leaves as I walked over to the base of the statue. I put my hands out for him. Mason slid his foot into my hands and I hoisted him up.

He somehow gracefully got onto the cement block at the statue’s feet. But the gracefulness stopped there. He tried to climb onto John Harvard’s lap but kept sliding back down.

“Why is it so slippy?!” he yelled.

Rob was bent over laughing. “Did he just say slippy instead of slippery?”

Matt tried to say something, but I couldn’t make it out through his laughter.

“Do they wax this thing or something?” Mason asked, as if any of us would randomly know the answer to his question. “So. Slippy.”

“Stop saying slippy!” Rob said.

“NEVER!” Mason tried once more and somehow ended up sliding onto the statue’s lap.

“You look like a little baby,” Rob said through his fit of laughter.

“You look very little from my vantage point, son,” Mason said in a weirdly deep voice in an undiscernible accent.

“Was John Harvard Scottish?” Matt asked.

“That was definitely not a Scottish accent,” I said in a much better Scottish accent. Which just made us all laugh harder.

“I did it!” Mason yelled.

We all looked up. Mason was sitting on the top of John Harvard’s head. I swear he’d just been in the statue’s lap. How did he get up there so fast? Especially when the statue was so fuckingslippy.

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