Then, as I draw closer, Marcus turns so that he can lean against a car, moving the girl around with him and leaning down to lay a big kiss on her. Now I can see the silhouette of her ass perfectly, and there’s no mistaking who it belongs to. It’s Cassidy’s big, splendid, beautiful booty. The bolts in my stomach turn into rusty hammers.
A lot of guys might look at Marcus West’s size and turn right around, but not me. “So,” I say, stopping about ten yards away. “I see the spirit of Jesus sure got into you two.”
Cassidy spins around. “What are you doing here?”
“Hey, you got a haircut.”
Her hand flits to her hair for a second. “It seemed like a good time for a change.”
I nod and rub my chin like I’m some kind of connoisseur of style. “It is motherfucking stunning.”
Now Marcus takes a step my way. “Are you drunk or something, Sutter?”
I smile as wide as I can. “If drunk equals A and something equals B, let’s just say the answer absolutely is not B.”
His brow crinkles, not from anger but, surprisingly, from sympathy. “Look, man, I know this isn’t exactly the best time for you. Maybe you ought to let me drive you home.”
“And behold! Marcus West spake even unto the lowly.” I’m trying hard to pronounce all the words without a slur.
Cassidy’s like, “Oh Gawd, Sutter.” But I hold up a finger to let her know I’m not finished.
“And his blessing fell like a curse among the wicked. That, boys and girls, is the way the communion cracker crumbles.”
Marcus walks over and reaches for my arm. “Come on, man, let’s go over to my car.”
I pull away. “Excellency, that will not be necessary. I am a fair-minded individual who thoroughly understands the meaning of the phrase ‘kicked to the curb.’ So now, I bid you a good night.” I bow just far enough so that I don’t lose my balance. “And I wish you a lifetime of marital bliss, for I am now free to begin my epic search for the perfect soul mate.”
As I turn away, Marcus goes, “Sutter, look…” but Cassidy cuts in. “Let him go. He wouldn’t even know how to drive if he wasn’t halfway drunk.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I call to her without turning around. “You are a most understanding woman—in everything but love.” And that would have been a perfect closing line if I hadn’t tripped over a pile of trash bags and spilled my drink down the front of my pants.
Chapter 12
Another spectacular afternoon. This weather is unbelievable. Of course, that probably means summer is going to be vicious again, but I’m not worried about that now. I was never big on the future. I admire people who are, but it just never was my thing.
Me and Ricky are sitting on the hood of my car in a parking lot down by the riverfront in the middle of the city. I offer him a hit off the flask, but he turns me down, says it’s too early in the day. Too early? It’s two o’clock in the afternoon. On a Friday! But I’m not the kind of guy to put the pressure on someone to do anything they don’t want to. Live and let live, I say.
I take a quick shot and go, “Look, you can see the Chase building from here. Right up there at the top…”
“Yeah, I know. Your dad’s office is up there.”
“I wonder what kind of deals he’s making today.”
“You know,” Ricky says, “I’d go with you tonight if I could.”
“I know you would. It’s no big thing. I just can’t stand going over to my sister’s by myself. Her husband and his buddies make me want to puke sometimes. They’re so full of themselves. They think anybody that’s not them is riffraff. Actually, I don’t mind being riffraff. I just get annoyed with people who think that’s a bad thing.”
“I can’t break this date with Bethany. She’s got everything planned.”
“That’s all right.”
“Besides, I thought you were going to ask Whitney Stowe to go with you.”
“I did.”
“You did? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It didn’t go so well. She said she doesn’t go out with shallow party boys.”
“She said that?”
“Yep.”
“That’s messed up.”
“I don’t know.”
“Dude, you are not a shallow party boy. Anybody that’d say that doesn’t know the first thing about you. They never sat in on any of our late-night conversations, that’s for sure.”
“But you know Whitney—she’s an artiste.”
“I don’t know why you don’t ask Tara out. She wants to go out with you. Bethany said she does. Besides, I saw the way she looked at you when we were driving back from Bricktown.”
“Dude, I can’t date Tara.”
“Sure you can. Think about it. She and Bethany are, like, tight. We could go out on double dates. We could have cook-outs by the lake—hamburgers, drinks, a little weed. It’d be splendiferous.”
“I’m sure it would be,” I say, picturing the whole scene. “But it can’t happen. I can never ask Tara out. Ever. If I did, that’d just make Cassidy think she was right. She’d go, ‘Look at that little weasel. After he tried to tell me nothing was going on between him and Tara, now they’re feeding each other French fries under the white oaks.’”
Ricky gets a chuckle out of that. “You know what?” he says. “I still can’t believe she’s already latched on to Marcus West. I mean, I can’t see it. She’s always making fun of jocks.”