No, Bridge.
But within twenty minutes he pulls over, tired of the sound of me sniffling in his ear but also concerned because I haven't stopped crying and if it keeps up I'll start hyperventilating. Eleven-year-olds tend to do that.
You can't eat those!
But I'm huh-huh-hungry. And w-why not? You said they're he- he- he-althy.
Did you see the layer of dust and grease on those bags? They've probably been there since Woodstock. I don't want you to get sick off them but I don't want you crying over gas station sunflower seeds either!
I sniff. I don't know what he wants me to do.
We'll get ice cream sandwiches at the next store, okay?
Promise?
Yes. And maybe some seeds if they look new. If they don't have dust. He leans over with a grimace, wiping his sleeve under my nose. Smile for me. I do as instructed. So pretty when you smile.
What do I look like when I cry?
My broken heart.
That's so romantic!
Not really.
***
Some day you're going to look back on all the terrible things you write about me on the Internet and you're going to regret it.
I hope so.
Someone has to be the bad guy, right?
You should let Caleb have that label.
Trying my best. He grins lopsidedly, lazily and he suddenly looks so sexy I couldn't be mad at him if I tried. Our argument, his action followed by my crushing silence brought the army in as reinforcements, as apparently the plan was for the tickets to be dispensed with this week anyway to friends of Batman, before I got my hopes up to where I...you know, couldn't breathe. Lochlan just chose to do it in a super-punitive fashion because he's an asshole like that.
Heh.
He didn't buy the tickets anyway, he never wanted us to go, honestly. August, Ben and Schuy pooled for them and talked everyone else into it. I don't think August was game but then he wasn't about to let us go without him. Then they all realized what a bad idea it was and had planned to let me down easy but I made one too many offhand remarks about TJ and Lochlan was ready to teach me a life lesson.
(He is full of those, no?)
Most of the many reasons Burning Man is a bad idea mostly stem from the fact that Bridget is a free spirit and prone to bringing home wayward followers, cult leader that she is. The boys were scared. They were scared I would be the pied piper on exodus day, leading a fresh army of people out of Black Rock City in a line straight up the coast to Vancouver.
Which is only partially true.
I would do that, sure. But I'd roll them all for their valuables and leave 'em all stuck in Portland. I'm not a savage. I don't even know them, and the rule is I must have know you for centuries 'tantric-ly' or whatever. Someone made that comment about New Jake once and it still makes me laugh. I think I knew him in a past life. He's one of precious few I haven't known since childhood.
What are the other reasons, Loch?
Huh?
You said 'most'. 'Most' of the many reasons it's a bad idea. What are the others?
Bridget, I'm not a young man anymore. I've learned that my bravado and what I'm capable of are two different things and I'm not comfortable keeping you safe far from home surrounded by people who don't give a shit about anyone's safety. I learned that lesson and it changed everything and I'm not willing to put you or everything we have at risk again. Call me soft or scared or write about me all you want but I made that mistake once already and I will not make it again.
Just admit it. You like the eight-dollar ice-cream sandwiches.
Okay, I do. I really, really do.
Yeah me too. Can we have them for breakfast?
Yes. Because nothing has changed since 1980.
In a perfect world, no. Nothing has.
The smile this time came more slowly, more sweetly.
