I have my nose pressed up against the glass, money in my hand. I didn't want to put wagers on my soul but here we are, PJ, Ben and I, watching Lochlan and Caleb duke it out in the snow in the front yard. Only Caleb isn't fighting back at all. The wind is gone out of his sails, or maybe hurting Ben is what finally changed him. Maybe this is his penance, though I pointed out to Lochlan that none of this was Caleb's fault and he almost believed me until he found the carefully hidden bite mark on the back of my neck, almost in my hair, that wouldn't have broken the skin but it did.
Now it's his fault, apparently, because he can't seem to not mash his teeth all over me, or maybe I'm just that delicious. Either way, there they are. Lochlan's lost all of his steam from shouting and is now swinging for the hills, but Ben remains with one hand on the door, ready to go out and break it up if anyone is about to get seriously hurt. Including Caleb.
PJ just wants to wager, as he knows damn well Caleb wouldn't hurt Lochlan. He wouldn't dare. The fifty bill is just to see who stops first and it's only a valid bet if they aren't stopped by a third party first. I bet Caleb would stop first only because I know Lochlan as well as I do.
And I was right. Now I'm fifty dollars richer, my nose is cold and pink and I told Lochlan to stop hitting people.
I will when you stop fucking them, he said.
NICE. I spat back.
I was out in the cold doing something NICE for YOU, he yells.
I DON'T NEED NICE. I NEED PRESENCE.
Right. PRESENTS.
No, PRESENCE.
What the FUCK, Peanut?
This would be better written down and then you'd see.
Go write it then. Humiliate me some more.
But then he winked and I don't even know which end is up and if you make me a bluff I'm going to call it so here we are. Immature Christmas 2021. Nothing has ever changed and nothing ever will. Also I think I need stitches. Oh and he invited Caleb for Boxing night.