Page 31 of Stupid Dirty

That was weird.

I don’t know exactly what that just meant, but I feel like the ground isn’t finished shifting underneath me yet.

Chapter Thirteen

Silas is a fucking mess.

I’ve told him a thousand times that this is low-key. We’re at The Feral Possum, a brewery that sits out on Rt 20 about halfway between Possum Hollow and Mission Flats, and is one of the few businesses around here that could pass for cool.

The vibe skews more hipster than honky-tonk. Classic rock soundtrack, trendy local drafts on tap, and inclusive signage like BLM and pride flags scattered around behind the bar. There’s even an honest-to-God gender neutral bathroom.

The sign is a picture of a unicorn farting and the word ‘Whatever’.

But it’s still not too far that I can’t haul ass home if an emergency beckons. Which makes it my preferred hang out on the rare occasions Wish convinces me to lighten up and go out.

It’s super chill. I’ve tried to convince Silas that it’s super chill, but he’s not listening. We’re just here for a drink with Wish and a few of her friends, some of whom may or may not be female and single. There’s no pressure.

This isn’t some test he has to perform on. But that hasn’t stopped him from spending the night alternating between lurking behind me like a nervous toddler, and avoiding me, making awkward conversation with people while throwing me these inscrutable looks whenever he thinks I’m not watching him.

“I swear, if you stare at him any harder, I’ll think you’re trying to make his head burst open like an overripe melon left out in the sun.”

I frown at Wish as she takes the stool next to me at the bar, a few seats down from where Silas is intensely listening to some girl explain something that apparently requires a lot of touching his arm.

“Thank you for that vivid and not at all terrifying image. But I am not staring, I’m observing. There’s a difference.”

“Uh huh. Well, I don’t think he needs your supervision to have a conversation with Cassidy.”

Wish gets in my face, forcing me to lean further over the bar so I can keep watching Silas and Cassidy and make sure she’s not making him too uncomfortable. She shouldn’t be touching him this much. I bet he’s itching out of his skin, but doesn’t know how to say no.

All because I embarrassed him about being a virgin and then pressured him into this, like an asshole. Maybe this was a bad idea.

“Earth to Cade!” Grabbing my jaw less gently than I would have liked, Wish jerks me over until I’m looking at her bright blue eyes instead of at Silas. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What?” My words come out garbled because she’s still holding the bottom half of my face like a disobedient child. “I just want to make sure he’s okay after I dragged him here.”

The eye roll I get in return is so hard I’m sure she sees the back of her skull.

“Dude. He’s your friend. He doesn’t know anyone here, and he hasn’t had time to date until now. You asked me to organize a casual bar thing, so I did, and I brought my absolute nicest, least-intimidating friends, by the way. Cassidy is the sweetest. He’s hot and shy. Nice girls are going to want to talk to him. It’s not fucking rocket science, so you need to cut the damn apron strings.”

Her eyes are wide as she keeps staring at me, and I feel like there’s other information she wants to shove into my head by eye contact alone.

“That was a lot of mixed metaphors, Wish.” My brow furrows as I realize why Cassidy looks so familiar. “Wait, didn’t she used to go out with Mason Boyd after he got expelled for dealing in the tenth grade? That’s one of your nicest friends?”

“Ugh. Who cares who she dated half a decade ago? Now she’s a dental hygienist. It doesn’t get more boring than that. You weren’t exactly a prize yourself back then, I should point out.” Finally letting go of my face, she wipes her hand on her ripped jeans in mock disgust.

A sound catches my attention, and I look up to see Silas laughing at something Cassidy said. Actual human non-robot laughter. It’s a goddamn miracle.

Now her hand is on his arm. Just resting there.

I have no idea why this is making me so uncomfortable. Maybe I’d feel better if I knew he wasn’t forcing himself to do it just to impress me, or something.

That’s it.

My head feels noisy at the best of times, but this is worse than usual. Drumming my fingers on the bar, I look around the room, trying to look at anything other than Silas having a good time or Wish’s weird, judgy face.

Fuck it. I wasn’t planning on drinking tonight, but I need something to take the edge off all of this…something. This fuzzy,anxious feeling that’s creeping in at the edges of my brain. Just far enough to let me know it’s there, but not enough to see the shape of it.

Catching the bartender’s eye, I order a draft and a shot. The bourbon is cheap, but I didn’t buy it for the taste, so I swallow it quickly and chase it with the equally cheap draft. It’s already doing its job of dulling my anxiety until I dare to look back at Wish.

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