I’m sitting at a table near the back of the clubhouse, watching Poseidon and Hades play a round of pool with each other. They haven’t broken their concentration even once, and it’s fuckin’ fascinating. I can’t tell who’ll win.
Apollo sits across from me, though he’s busy with a clubwhore, Acid, who is spoon-feeding him some mac n’ cheese like a fuckin’ baby. He looks happy as fuck, though. I chuckle to myself and pick up the rest of my burger, savoring each bite.
Pan walks over, his grin so wide it stretches across fuckin’ Alabama, and he throws himself down in the chair next to me. “Hey, you up for going somewhere with me? I need some help.”
I look him up and down. “You drunk? It’s your party. Where the hell do you need to go?”
He sighs. “It’s Gemma, man. Look, I don’t exactly wanna leave either, but you know it’s not so much about me anymore. Besides, I could just order you to come with me.” He wiggles his eyebrows, and I flip him off, pushing my plate away.
“What the fuck, Pan? Has it gone to your head already? You just got patched in, you know,” I grumble at him but know he does have the fucking right to make me do whatever he wants. “What does Gemma need that has to be done right now?”
“My little sis, she lives with three other chicks. They aren’t exactly handy, and the landlord isn’t being a fuckin’ help at all, like always. They have some plumbing issue that keeps happening. I was hopin’ you could come with me to check it out. See if we can fix it for ‘em. Do a good deed and all.”
I do feel bad for four girls having to deal with that kind of thing, and Gemma, well, Pan would do anything for her. I know that but in the middle of a damn party? Something tells me this plumbing problem has to be bigger than the way he’s making it seem, or he wouldn’t insist right this minute.
“You’re shitting me, right? It can’t wait?”
He shakes his head, the long brown tendrils atop his head shaking along with it. “They’ve been dealing with it for a while. Look, I bet some of her roommates are hot as fuck. At least we’ll have somethin’ to look at while we work.”
I narrow my eyes at him but nod. I don’t really have a choice. “Let’s get this over with, so we can get back. I want to see which one of them creams the other.” I nod over to where Poseidon and Hades are still enthralled by their stalemate in the game of pool.
“Oh, you know they’ll be at it for hours. Go get changed into something you don’t give a shit about, and I’ll grab my toolbox and meet you in the lot.”
Before I can even stand up, his phone goes off. “It’s Gemma, isn’t it?”
He grits his teeth and nods with chagrin. “Not very patient.”
I shake my head and go to get an old tee shirt and some torn jeans on. I get the feeling I’m going to be getting dirty in all kinds of not so fucking fun ways. I doubt I’ll be getting any pussy out of it either. Who wants to fuck a man elbow deep in shit water? He’s just desperate to please Gemma again, which I guess is endearing about the fucker.
I meet him out at the bikes, and we ride, me following behind him as he leads me to where Gemma lives. And after all that about getting something on, I didn’t care about, he’s wearing his cut.
It’s not the ghetto but also not the nicest neighborhood, but what in Birmingham is nice these days?
Her fucking house, though, is actually great. All brick exterior and clearly two floors. A wrap-around deck and a fair amount of yard space from the looks of it. These girls had it made. Whatever it is, Gemma does certainly afford them a few luxuries, and I can see how she was able to get another roommate so easily. The space alone would be worth it.
We park our bikes and go to the door, Gemma answering it. Her red curls keep bobbing in front of her eyes, and she’s in nothing but a pair of shorts and a tank top. I can feel Pan’s eyes on me as he looks back to see if I react, not too happy about her choice of attire.
I’m sure to avert my gaze. That’s not a pussy, I’m about to be in trouble for banging. Off-limits, for sure.
“It’s about fucking time,” she says, annoyed and not giving a chance for Pan to actually comment about what she’s wearing.
Coming into the living room, there’s all-white furniture and decor. Clean and sleek. She has good taste. I worry about messing any of it up.
At the back of the room stands another woman, long, dark hair, freckles, legs for days. She’s cute, but I see Pan already looking at her while she blushes at the sight of him.
“That’s Trix,” Gemma says, pointing to her roommate.
Trix smiles but then unceremoniously leaves the room while Pan goes to hang his cut over one of the dining room chairs. I look at it for a moment, trying not to show my envy. I know it shouldn’t burn, but it does. My time will come one day—but it won’t come soon enough.
“So, where’s the issue?” I ask, tucking my hands in my pockets. I want to get in and get out.
“The bathroom.” Gemma rolls her eyes and motions for us to follow her. “The damn toilet won’t flush half the time and overflows a lot. It’s like there’s always water on the floor, too, and it’s starting to rot the wood.”
We walk inside, and she points to some obvious water damage around the toilet. I immediately suspect more than one issue going on. “Please, tell me you can fix it, and I didn’t bring you here for nothing,” she says.
Pan puts his hands up. “Look, we’re not plumbers, but Connor and I are pretty handy, right?”
He turns to me, and I nod. “We’ll do our best. We’ll take a look and let you know what we find.”
She nods and then, satisfied, leaves the room, only to be replaced moments later by Trix leaning against the doorframe. “So, you’re here to fix the toilet, then?” Looking at her, I notice she’s put some makeup on and changed clothes. The way she looks at Pan tells me exactly why too. I get the feeling I’m going to be doing most of this handiwork myself. Fucking typical.
“Yes, I am.” Pan pulls out the snake from his small bag of tools like it makes him a fucking hero. What a douche. I try not to snort. “Why don’t you show me what’s going on?”
“You’re seriously asking this poor girl for a demonstration?” I wonder out loud, grabbing a wad of toilet paper and trying to flush it down myself to see what might happen. Sure enough, the toilet is slow to flush, backing up with extra water. “So, what do you think is wrong, oh plumbing hero.”
I can’t help but take a jab at him, and he gives me a look as the Trix girl begins to smirk while watching us. Pan comes over and tries to flush again, and I back up as the toilet fills to the brim with water, by some miracle not spilling over.
He poses like a damn model and turns around dramatically, telling her, “Looks like there’s a clog somewhere down the line, probably too far down to see it, but too close to not be an issue for this toilet.”
A loud sucking noise emits from the toilet, then it flushes itself all at once. “Yeah, definitely some kind of blockage. We’ll have to see if we can get it out with the snake or move it far enough down that it gets on down the plumbing lines.” I hear a splashing, trickling sound and look down to see a little water splashing up from under where the toilet should be secured to the floor.