Violet Queen: Anyway, let’s not have this conversation and say we did.
Cap’N Crunch: What conversation?
Violet Queen: The one about my brother.
Cap’N Crunch: I’m sorry. I don’t know what you’re referring to.
Violet Queen: I see what you did there.
Cap’N Crunch: So you want to meet? Like a date?
I chew the inside of my cheek some more. Settle on flippant. I’m not sure how we ended up back at the original topic. Has he changed his mind, or is he trying to feel out what I’m thinking?
Violet Queen: Well, it is a dating app.
Which is the whole point really. Meet someone to date. Forget about Vale. With Cap’N Crunch I could see myself possibly enjoying the process. We get along like we’re old friends.
Cap’N Crunch: I feel like I need to be upfront with you.
Uh-oh. That can’t be good. I’m on the edge of the sofa as I type out my response.
Violet Queen: Go on.
Cap’N Crunch: I’m not the kind of guy you want to date.
What is with everyone saying that? First Vale says he’s not the kind of man I should be into. And then this guy. But whatever, it’s not like I am into him. We connect in a totally chill, totally fun way. Like Vale and I used to before…
Violet Queen: Out of curiosity. What makes you say that?
Cap’N Crunch: Too many reasons.
Violet Queen: Sounds ominous. Perhaps you should list them? Should I even be talking to you at all? Are you a serial killer, per chance, good sir? A pervert? A dictator? A dick pic smuggling pirate of ye olde booty? Or should it be bounty?
Cap’N Crunch: A perverted pirate?
Violet Queen: Aye matey, are you in search of a queenly wench to plunder?
Ohmygawd, this is stupid. What are these random words flowing from the tips of my fingers? “When did I start speaking pirate?”
Cap’N Crunch: No, I’m not a pirate.
Cap’N Crunch: Or a serial killer.
Violet Queen: So you’re a pervert?
Cap’N Crunch: We all can’t be perfect.
Violet Queen: Right, some of us have to be perverts.
Cap’N Crunch: Seems that way.
It’s like every message takes me further into the abyss of awkward and embarrassing thoughts I can’t help but share. My face is burning and yet I type out another message. If Hud was here, he’d probably tell me to think before I tap. Too late.
Violet Queen: So what’s your fetish?
Oh shit. I really should have thought that one through. Did I really ask the guy what his fetish is? What if it’s feet? What if he asks me to send him a picture of my toes? I haven’t had a pedicure in weeks. The sky blue paint on my big toe is chipped.
What if it’s sticking Crunch Berries in places breakfast cereal has no business being? I side eye the box beside me; a few pieces of cereal having escaped onto the sofa when it tipped over. I pick one up and shove it in my mouth. Chew nervously while I wait for his reply to pop onto my device.
Cap’N Crunch: Unattainable women.
Oh, well, that’s a relief. I knew I felt a connection with him. Just not the kind where you date. Because he and I are in the same boat. On a river no one wants to be on. Going in the wrong direction. Without a paddle.
Violet Queen: Oh, you’re one of us.
Chapter Twelve
Vale
“You’re one of us.” What does that mean?
Cap’N Crunch: I’m going to need you to explain your last comment.
“Everything all right?” Hud thumps his thumb against one of the buttons on his controller and his character kicks a soccer ball across the screen. It’s a rare night that we both have off from Line ‘Em Up and we’re hanging out before I leave for L.A. in the morning.
I swear he believes I’m having a breakdown. I probably am. That’s the only thing that makes sense given my behavior recently. I’ve sent a ridiculous number of text messages to a girl I don’t want to want.
I’m knocking back a girl who I could like if I wanted to. I wouldn’t even have to try. But all I can think is she’s a lot like Lily. Which is why I like her. And she’s not Lily. And that’s enough for me to know I’m in deep trouble.
Jessa’s marrying my brother and that’s the least of my problems. I never thought there would be a day where I said that, but there it is. It’s all Lily. All the time. It’s gotta stop.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Hud asks.
Not on my life. Which he’d want to take if we did talk about it. And while he’s a giant pussy cat who would do anything for the people he loves, he’s also partial to crazy, half-cocked plans. I have no doubt that could easily include burying my live body somewhere in the dessert. And Jane is as incorrigible. She’d be the one who covers my head with a bucket to make sure the ants got to me before the buzzards picked out my eyes.
It sounds like I’m scared of my best friend, and I am, a smidge, in this particular matter. Really, though, other than the possibility of a harsh death under the dessert sun, I can handle Hud. What I can’t handle is the idea of fucking him over. It’s the fact that he welcomed me into his life and his family when my own was such a fucking Shakespearean tragedy and all he asked was I don’t touch Lily. And I’m repaying him by wanting to stick my dick in his sister. I’m not saying that’s how I look at her. Although I can’t pretend that I don’t want to do that too. I’m saying that’s all Hud would hear if I dared to broach the subject with him. Me dirty caveman. Want to steal sister and bang with big meat club. Yeah, no thank you. I’m not having a conversation about it. “Nothing to talk about.”
“Well someone wants to talk to you,” he says when my phone whistles again.
It really is the most annoying sound, but I haven’t worked out what I want to replace it with yet. I click into the message.
Violet Queen: You’re hung up on someone, right?
So that’s what she meant. She doesn’t want to date me. She wants a reprieve from the gnawing ache of wanting someone else. And I can’t blame her for seeking out a distraction. I’ve been doing it as long as I can remember. Only our situations are very different.
Cap’N Crunch: No. I mean yes. Maybe. It’s more complicated than that.
Violet Queen: Isn’t it always?
Cap’N Crunch: I suppose it probably is. But in this case I would say it’s more like an episode of Maury.
Violet Queen: You’re in love with your sister?? Or is it your brother? And your mom is worried that your babies will have ten toes on each foot?
A laugh bursts out of me that is so unexpected I choke on it. My eyes water. She has no idea.
“You sure you’re all right?” Hud glances at me from under a heavy and lopsided brow.
I thump my chest. Cough. Tears fill my eyes, so I take my glasses off and wipe them. “I’m good.”