Misdirection (Borealis: Without a Compass, #2)

by Gregory Ashe

Eyebrows drawing together, Mrs. Chittenden bent over the accent table next to her, picking up a figurine of dried pasta to examine it. “That’s elbow-macaroni Emery Hazard,” Shaw said. “He’s my best friend.”

Oh Shaw. 😂

“I mean the real Emery Hazard. He’s basically my best friend in the whole universe. He’s got a boyfriend who’s really sweet, and his name is John-Henry, and I was going to make an oatmeal-cream-pie John-Henry because, well, Emery is so stiff and prickly, and John-Henry is so sweet and gooey, but North told me I couldn’t.

This has me 💀🤣

As North dropped back into the seat, he decided it was time for the magic words. Pulling Shaw’s hands away from puffy eyes, wet cheeks, and a snotty nose, he began to clean him up with the tissues. “I just need time to process what I’m feeling.”

North kissed his cheek, wrapped one of Shaw’s hands in his own, and then settled back for fifteen seconds of blessed silence. He had no idea what Shaw thought processing meant, but it worked better than abracadabra.

“I’m going to write you an acrostic poem. North Magnanimous McKinney. ‘N is for navel piercing, which I wish he would get. O is for orgasm, the best I’ve had yet. R is for—’”

“He’s a complicated man,” Shaw told her. “Sometimes he’s really sweet and he’s telling you he can’t wait to listen to the forty-six-minute vocal fugue that you composed in your head based on ‘Greensleeves’—”

“Just keep walking,” North told Countee. “You’ve got to maintain escape velocity with Shaw. I didn’t, and look what happened.”

“Do you think we’ll see Emery?” Shaw asked as they sped west on I-70. “God, I hope not.” “Do you think we’ll see John-Henry?” “I doubt it. We’re not going to Wahredua. We’re not even going to Dore County. And please don’t tell Hazard and Somerset we want to have lunch or check each other for lice or wash our hair and watch Golden Girls while we all wear towels or whatever you’re about to do.”

“Well, I hope you learned your lesson: in the future, don’t put on rings that don’t belong to you. You need to ask before you borrow my cock rings. And I was thinking more of, you know, his thug chains—” North groaned. “I had one chain. One.” “—and his ironic bowling shirt—” “That was a potential Halloween costume.” “—and, of course, posters.” “Don’t you fucking dare. We agreed you were going to stop bringing this up.” “Cats!” Shaw traced a marquee with his hands. “America’s favorite musical!”

“I really doubted myself, but then I remembered that you and I are the best detectives in the entire world except maybe for Emery, my best friend, and then I realized that the power to be the best detective in the entire world was inside me all along.” “For the record, this is why I’m mean to you.” “You probably didn’t notice all these important things were missing because you were still thinking about your Cats poster.”

“It’s amazing how your powers of observation are sharpened when you’re not high as a kite.”

“Shaw, if your parents are disappointed in you, they are out of their fucking minds. You’re incredible. Whatever you think they wanted out of you, you became something better. I don’t even have the words for it. Brighter. Purer. God, I can’t even imagine someone being disappointed in you.”

“You gentlemen need to leave right now.” “My name’s North McKinney—” “I know who you are, and I want you off this campus right now.” “And who are you?” “I’m Shaw.” “Not you,” North muttered.

But after that he was mostly focused on the Coke, and North was focused on limiting Shaw to three refills. Their food came. North sighed again when he saw that Shaw had ordered a salad with no dressing and no cheese and no meat, which meant he had ordered a paper tray full of iceberg lettuce.

“Why me? You should be the distraction this time. Last time I ended up with custard all over me.” “That’s because you insisted on impersonating a custard delivery driver, which is a thing that has never existed since the beginning of time.”

Oh, except forward isn’t always good, like that one time you tried to joyride in one of those motorized shopping carts but you got stuck in that tampon display and I told you to back up but you just kept going forward and you got buried in tampons and all those tampon ladies had to help you because I was laughing so hard.” “There’s no such thing as a tampon lady,” North snapped. “They were just ladies who were shopping there. And you told me the wrong way to back up and—”

“You can think of a prize. Something you want me to do.” Shaw hemmed. “I do find you very sexually attractive.” “Fantastic.” “And I want you to do all sorts of dirty things to me.” “Make a list. Happy to oblige.”

“I’m sorry that I didn’t want you to install what you kept calling a ‘sex spiderweb’ in my living room. Forgive me for being worried the landlord might not like it.”

“Maybe I should have a windbreaker too,” Shaw whispered. “Be quiet.” “I’d go shirtless though. I think people like my nips.” “Dear baby Jesus, in your infinite manger, please deliver me to a shrimping boat.” “Wait, what?”

For example, I never thought I could cook, but then just the other day, I told myself, ‘Shaw, the power to cook has been inside you all along,’ and then I made North tuna surprise casserole, and I totally nailed it.” Kishor turned to North. “Is he being serious right now?” “You’d be surprised too,” North said, “if you took a bite of the driest, nastiest, burnt-and-raw-at-the-same-time tuna surprise casserole forced on you and bit down on a toy soldier.” “That was the surprise,” Shaw shouted with excitement. “Like king cake!”

“Sometimes it helps to talk about things. I tell North everything. Well, pretty much everything.” “He tells me too much,” North said. “He told me about a dream he had where he was playing parcheesi with Rasputin, and then they both had to go vote in the municipal election, and there was something about Dracula eating cereal.” “Count Chocula,” Shaw said. “And that part was a sex dream.”

When he came down, North was kissing his neck softly, whispering to him: “I love you, you’re so beautiful, you’re the best thing in my entire life.” A string of sweet things tying them together.