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Notes: The time has come, the walrus said. Can’t remember the whole poem. Think the walrus eats someone’s babies? Idk, but I’m not being eaten
Water: GF’s Pussy: Tasted her last night *chef’s kiss* Will prob touch her again today. Gotta quench the gf’s thirst. Doing the Lord’s work.
Question of the Day: How many times can I make Luna come in an hour? Does a fairy die when you go on Lily Calloway’s shit list? Am I that fairy?
“You wanna play some music?” “Yeah,” she says really, really quietly. Yeah, I hear her. I’ve always been able to hear her.
“I didn’t like what she said after she realized I could hear you,” I tell her, my voice nearly hollowed out. Why is this so hard for me to discuss? I feel like it gives it permanence, and I just want it to fade away.
“I could hear you and understand you because you were sitting right next to me. There wasn’t some deeper meaning to it, and I didn’t like that she was trying to pull one out.” Luna rotates more towards me. “Can I hold your hand?”
“I know you might think you’re not unique, but you do catch what I say better than most people. There’ve been plenty of times just in the past couple of months that I thought there’s no way you could hear me, but you did.”
“Normally, I would love it. I’d love knowing I won’t miss a thing you’re saying. I’d love knowing I can hear you better than anyone else can. But what she said back there—she ruined it. ‘Cause now when I hear your whispered words—I just hear her. Saying the only reason I hear you is because of my childhood trauma. What’d she call it?” “Hyper-independence. That you likely grew up in a state of extreme self-reliance and your unstable environment caused you to be on alert for threats…which is why you have super bionic ears.” It bothers me about a hundred times less when Luna says it.
“Is it so bad?” she whispers. I hear her really clearly. “Is what?” “Knowing the origin of how you can hear me so well.” She tries to turn more toward me but the seatbelt yanks at her body. “Lots of superheroes have powers from their environment, from trauma, from catastrophes. Spider-Man getting bit by a radioactive arachnid wasn’t exactly a sweet moment. It was painful, and it’s sad that it happened but it doesn’t make his powers any less amazing. Good came out of bad. Light out of dark.”
It feels like she’s reaching straight into my heart and cradling it with force—like she sees it’s in one piece and won’t bleed out.
I glance from the road, to her, the road, her, road, Luna. “Girl, you keep doing this to me,” I say in one breath. “What?” “Making me fall in love with you.” I’m still choked. Don’t know how I managed to say it at all, but I clear the ball out of my throat. “Don’t stop.” Very softly, she says, “I never will.”
I never will. She’s said that to me before. It’s a common phrase, I know, but the first time she said it, we were in New York, too. Sometimes I feel like her memories are right there. Simmering. Slowly seeping out.
This is really the first thing we’ve done together since our big falling out. And it’s being derailed by a busted elevator and O’McFugly.
And there is no ache. Not even the slightest burn from a cut. It feels easy, as easy as this used to be with him. Maybe it’s ‘cause he’s not butchering me to open up about O’Malley or my parents. He’s leaving that conversation outside the doors. It’s the type of friendship I love. It never asks too much of me. It never rips me open. It just sews me back together. Beckett catches my eyes and says, “Race you?” Like old times.
I could sit here and never bring up the past with Beckett again. Run forward. Don’t look back. Never look back. But I dunno—I’m not sure that’ll create anything lasting. I’m not sure I ever built anything that could last with him. He gave me so much of his life, and I never let him see all of mine.
Beckett blinks a few times, pain cinching his reddened eyes. “I wouldn’t have listened.” His voice shakes, but he clears his throat. “And I’m sorry. I’m sorry I thought you didn’t care what I did, when you’re someone who cares about people—more than I think humanly possible, sometimes. I’m sorry I didn’t care about you as much as you did me—”
Beckett smiles a little, staring out at New York. “You don’t even know how good you are.” His eyes, full of emotion, meet mine again. “I was lucky to have you as a friend. Every day. And I took it for granted. Because when I lost it, it felt like my world went dark.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re too limber to wear shackles, you know. No one should be chained down like that.”
“I do like him, Donnelly, but I hate what he said in the elevator. I don’t think he really even knows you.” “Why do you say that?” “Because if he did, he’d never question how you’d treat Luna. Or your motives behind getting with her.”
He lets out a laugh in thought. “I can name over a dozen situations where girls, too drunk to consent, tried getting in your pants. You gave them water. You tried calling them a cab. Sometimes they were so relentless, you were struggling to even stay at the bar without being groped, and you just took it.”
“Nah, you usually got us out of there.” Beckett did care about me. Maybe he’s right. Maybe it wasn’t to the same degree, but he noticed me. He saw, and he had the power to leave, since I only had the power to follow as his bodyguard. He left for me. Time and time again. He made sure I was good. I made sure he was good. It was Beckett and D...
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“I wish I’d known earlier about you liking her.” “I didn’t tell anyone for the longest time. It took me a while to process it, honestly. Think it was supposed to happen slowly.” “Still,” he says, “I doubt there’s a more perfect match, for either of you. It makes so much sense in hindsight, Charlie was shocked we didn’t see it sooner.”
“You, giving Leo a back massage.” “I’d rather cut off my hands.” He lies back on the bench. “He’d probably give me the saw.” “Match made,” I tease. “In hell.” He wraps his hands around the barbell, about to lift it, but the door opens. Our heads swing over to Joana Oliveira.
Beckett lets go of the bar. Sitting up, he fixates on her face. “What the fuck happened to you?” Jo has two black eyes. A nastier bruise blemishes the golden-brown skin of her cheek, and her lip is split. I’m less concerned than Beckett ‘cause I’ve seen her look worse.
“I would’ve thought that’d be the highlight of your year. Joana’s face meets the floor.” “I’d enjoy throwing you on a bed more.” It falters her stride. “Or I’d push you against the wall—I think you’d like the wall,” Beckett says, his voice so sensual and smooth, if I were blindfolded I’d believe he was fucking her out in the open. Jo has lost her bearings. Their eyes are locked.
My guy has a way with the ladies. Seen it time and time again. But this one is supposed to be off-limits. Oscar’s sister and all. Still, I’d ship it. Mostly since I’ve been sensing how much he likes her.
Jo recovers fast. “Or maybe the only thing I’d enjoy,” she says slowly, “is my knee in your groin.” “So you’re the sadist then.” “No.” “No?” “How’s that mattress on your back? Still heavy?” Beckett gives me a brief look like, see, she’s a borderline brat. Then says to her, “Why? You want to test it out.” “That lumpy overused thing?” I ...
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But if I had a crystal ball at eighteen, I would’ve thought it’d say I’d be with an older woman. Definitely not anyone this much younger. Now, I can’t even imagine being with anyone but Luna. It feels like we were made only for each other.
We’re all pulled under anger and either drowning or fighting to reach brighter emotions. Joy. Hope. Love. Can you imagine it? Being beneath a sentiment as strong as love?” — Beneath a Strong Sentiment
Today’s Focus: mingle with the famous fams as Luna’s boyfriend + survive the Super Bowl with all limbs intact. (Not sure who wants to sever my dick. Hope it’s not Lily. Money’s on Rose ‘cause she’s the dick-severing queen. Avoid her?)
Other news: my elf is a Procrastination King. Guy has been learning ASL for fun instead of working on his Fizzle presentation.
Question of the Day: What position is the best position for a pseudo-virgin? Will Luna be able to handle me taking her multiple times in a row? How aggressive can I really be? Where in the world is Charlie Keating Cobalt’s clothing iron?
Rose keeps frisbeeing coasters as soon as a drink touches wood. Best Coaster Police in town.
She’s too cute. Her little grunts in frustration shouldn’t be turning me on. No, sir. No, Bob. (Don’t know who Bob is, but I’m picturing a wrinkled geriatric to keep me soft.)
Luna is hiding in her Eagles jersey. She only hides in her shirt when she’s extremely upset, and my stomach knots. “Where’d my sad alien go?”
“Mom, I’m really, really sorry.” “It’s okay.” Lily sounds out of breath like she ran a marathon. “It’s okay. Luna?” Luna wipes at the sudden tears streaming down her face. It’s crushing me. Seeing her cry. “No, don’t cry,” Lily rushes out to her daughter, and they immediately embrace in a tight hug. “It’s not your fault. It’snotyourfault.”
Lo’s glower softens on them. “We didn’t know you were dating the goddamn Hulk.” “Me neither.” Luna sniffs, rubbing at her eyes. Her voice sounds a little brighter. “I’ll still love him when he turns green.”
“Luna said you went to therapy with her. How’d that go?” “It went fine. As much as I don’t get along with her, I think Dr. Raven is good for Luna.” “How’d it go for you?” he clarifies, almost pissy about it. I start to smile. “Why so interested in me, Luna’s dad?” “You’re dating my daughter, Paul. Sue me for asking. Or don’t. Because I’d bankrupt you.” He flashes a half-smile. I laugh. “You can have my pennies. I’m rich without ‘em.” Lo smiles a bit softer at this, like he understands what real wealth is, too.
“Was that your first time in therapy?” He reopens the grill lid, checking the burgers. “I’ve been before. Never liked it. I still don’t.” “It took me a while to get into it,” he admits. “Once you get over the sharing part, it’s easier.” “That’s the whole part.” “Exactly.” He gives me another dry smile.
“My brother is pushy, but he’s been the best thing that’s ever happened to me. Time and time again. Most days, I don’t feel like I deserve him, but that’s my own shit I have to work through.”
I could make a joke. Tell him I’m just better than him, but that lie sinks heavy in my stomach like a thirty-ton weight. Dig deep enough, I know I’m not any stronger than Lo. I’m just used to running away from my demons. Lo meets most of his like they have tee times every Monday. Whereas I try not to shake hands with any of mine.
Lo keeps staring. Keeps excavating. Then he says, “I care about you.” Those four words plunge inside me, and I shake my head, on automatic. “It bothers you that fucking much,” he says sharply. “To have someone care about you?”
“I was there, Paul,” he reminds me. “I. Was. There.” I see his breath. “You don’t have to tell me what you felt or what you went through. I was there.” “I wish you weren’t,” I whisper, my voice low.
“Why?” Lo is earnest, a genuine need to get to know me. But not just what kind of socks I like or how I take my eggs in the morning. He wants to know how I’m feeling. How I’m coping. How I’m going to wake up tomorrow and be okay. He cares about me. I’ve never really had that from…from…
“You’re still gonna be worried about your daughter being associated with me—” “I’m not worried about that anymore, Paul. Look at where we are.” “Out in the cold,” I say, still seeing my breath. “Freezing our asses off for some wieners.” He makes an unamused face. “You’re so funny, I think I heard the dead bodies I buried laughing back here.” I grin. “Good ears. Been told I have better ones though, and your dead friends aren’t chuckling hard enough.” “I don’t have friends to bury.” “How’d you know I want to be cremated?” Lo smiles at that. “You think we’re friends?” “Getting there.” My
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“Do you think about your future with Luna?” Do I think about our future? “No,” I tell him. “I don’t need to think about it. She is my future.” It’s so clear. It’s so bright. “It’s all I know.”
I don’t care if there’s a white picket fence. I don’t care if there’s a four-poster bed. I don’t even care if we only have a hundred bucks to our name. She’s all I really need.
But I’m not completely sure what she needs from me. I’m scared I won’t be able to give it to her. These talks of our future haven’t come up much. She’s likely not thinking too far ahead anyway. She’s been concentrated on finding her footing in the present, and I’m just glad we have now, today, wi...
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“I hate your father.” “I wanna say ditto,” I tell him. “But there are times I think maybe I still love him. And it’s a fucked-up kind of love ‘cause I thought about murder when he told me that shit.” Lo comes unglued, his shoulders relaxing. “You can love him,” he says. “Just don’t let that love give him the power to influence you.”
“Luna’s a good cookie, you know,” I say. “We’re both doing this whole relationship thing for the first time together. I’d say she’s excelling.” “You make it easy for her,” Lo says, and it sounds like genuine praise. My lips lift. “Thanks for the compliment. Should I be expecting the fruit basket soon?” “What’d you say you like? Dried prunes?” Is he trying to give me the runs? “Granny smiths and green grapes, but I could down some prunes. They’ve never done me dirty.”
