Wild Card

by Elsie Silver

“Oh, tonight? Tonight is just our meet-cute. It’s the night we’ll tell our kids about one day. Remember?”

I turn back slowly to face Bash, who clearly just can’t help himself. “Do you want me to come upstairs and get you settled as well? If you keep this attitude up, I can hold a pillow down over your face to make it stop.”

“Or what? You might man up and take something for yourself for once?” I snap. I take something for myself for once. My hands dart out and grip Gwen’s waist. “You know what?” I snarl, yanking her toward me, staring at her plush mouth as her lips softly part—no doubt to say something infuriating. But I don’t let her get a word in edgewise. “Fuck it,” I mutter. Then I kiss her.

“But I’ll tell you what would be good for you,” Clyde starts back in. “Pot.” I go still, head tilting as I stare back at him. “Pot?” He dips his chin. “Yeah. You know…marijuana. Ganja. Dope. Grass. Reefer. Mary Jane. I don’t know what you kids are calling it these days, but it might serve you well. It’s medicinal.”

“Yes. Because raccoons are the official animal of romance. Nothing says I’m into you like sharing rabies over a bowl of Doritos.”