“Dude. I really wish I had the faintest clue what you’re talking about, but I really don’t. There’s nobody here but me.”
“Bullshit. I saw the two of you together.”
“You’re talking about Quincy?”
“Don’t try that crap with me. Who the fuck else would I be talking about?”
“I’m just checking, because you’re so far off base with this, it’s not even funny.”
“The hell I am. You fucking kissed. Then you both disappeared. It doesn’t take a rocket scientist.”
“Well, I think it might, because you couldn’t be more wrong with what you’re thinking right now.”
“I might be many things, but I’m not a fool, so don’t take me for one.” He stormed farther into the room, and flung open the bathroom door.
“Well you’re definitely acting like one right now, that’s for damned sure.” I struggled to keep a straight face as I spoke. “I just told you I’m alone here.”
“The hell you are. You fucking traitor.” Next, he flung open the closet door. It was completely empty except for the standard hotel inclusions.
“What the hell are you talking about?” I watched in amusement as he stalked about the room, looking in increasingly outlandish places like under the bed, then getting more pissed off when he came up empty each time.
“Don’t play dumb with me. This is what you’ve been working toward all along.”
“Hahaha. What? Now I know you’re out of your fucking mind.”
“And I know you’re a fucking liar. You will literally sit there and lie to my face you rat bastard.” I stood up.
Where King’s mean drunk routine had been kind of amusing, kind of bumbling before, it was now straying into ugly territory, and I was straying into twitchy hand territory. I wanted a cigarette. Or a drink. Or both. Or I wanted to hit something or someone. Not wanting to fuck up my rehab over King’s out of control bullshit, I didn’t see the situation ending well for him.
I’d stayed on the bed until that point, figuring that King would wear himself out and run out of steam sooner, rather than later, and then we could both pretend that nothing had ever happened, but he’d pushed me over the edge from mildly amused to deeply pissed off, and my patience was evaporating with every second that passed.
“What am I lying about? Why don’t you enlighten me, since you seem to have all the fucking answers right now?”
“I’ve been biding my time, waiting for the other shoe to drop. I didn’t think it would be at my grandmother’s fucking funeral, though, so kudos to you. That’s low, even by your standards, and definitely lower than I gave you credit for. Or was that even the first time? You guys were pretty cozy at the awards ceremony. Did you go home and screw each other’s brains out, while I was here in mourning?
“Man, do you fucking hear yourself? I’m your best friend, yet you’ve been quietly waiting for me to shit on you from a great height, in your mind, safe in the knowledge that I would.”
“Wait. Was it going on before the awards? Have the two of you been doing the dirty on me from day one? Have I been the side-piece all along? Has she been sneaking into your room, and the two of you have been having a big old laugh at my expense? Fuck you both.”
“You’re on thin fucking ice here now, King. Be very careful what you say next. It’s one thing to trash talk me, and let’s face it, based on my track record, I deserve some of what you’re saying. A lot of it, actually. But you’re way off base talking about Quincy that way. She’s done nothing to warrant that.”
“Hasn’t she? You say that, yet I’m not wrong, am I? I saw you both with my own fucking eyes.”
“What you saw was me living up to the incredibly low expectations you have of me, not her. I was struggling, hard. Coming straight from the awards to another room full of people nearly broke me, and I know it’s wrong, but I grabbed on to Quincy like a lifeline. What you clearly didn’t stick around to see was that she didn’t kiss me back. Almost the instant my lips touched hers, she jumped back as though I was poison, then she slapped me, and pretty much told me to go fuck myself. I haven’t seen her since. I came back here and watched porn until my eyes were square. I was sleeping when you came in, out of sheer boredom, but I figured that anything was better than drinking.
“So you expect me to believe that’s all there was to it? That you didn’t plan this all along? That you weren’t jealous and just—”
“Man, what the fuck is wrong with you? Of course I was jealous. I mean, what is there not to be jealous about? You’re the fucking perfect specimen—straight-A student, ideal family life, smart, popular. Life comes easy to you in every way, and you’re a nice a guy, to boot. You’re not the one stomping around, saying and doing the wrong thing twenty-four seven.” I raked through my hair, trying to get myself under control.
“Nope, that would be me. You never put a foot wrong, never have a hair out of place, and people just fucking like you, no, love you, because you make it easy for them.” I needed to stop talking, but didn’t seem to be able to.
“I accepted years ago that that’s our schtick, and in a weird way, that dynamic worked for us. Damned well, in fact. It’s only when Quincy came along that I started to think that maybe I wanted more, and I possibly even had a chance at getting it. But then I woke up and reality dry fucked me in the ass. She chose you. Of course she did. I mean, the fact is that in the same situation, I’d fucking opt for you too. So all of this”—I gestured into the space between us—“You stomping around like the jealous boyfriend, is just utter bullshit.
“What fucking planet are you living on?” His voice was a rough bark. “You’re the shining light in this partnership, and you know it. Even with all the rudeness, fuck ups, and all of that shit, you’re the one people are drawn to. Sure, maybe they like me better, but they want you. Every-fucking-body wants Rome. Hell, most dudes want to be you, and every woman on the planet wants a piece of you. But Quincy chose me, so for once, I have something and someone you want. I won.
“Exactly. She chose you. She wants you. You’ve got her, and I’ve got nothing. At this rate, not even my best fucking friend.”===
Chapter 11
King
The slow clapping sound from the doorway surprised us both. I couldn’t speak for Rome, but I for one had been so engrossed in our conversation, that I was focused on just that, and had blocked out the rest of the world.
“Bravo. Bravo. Is this a private pity party, or can anyone join?” Quincy’s voice was dripping with sarcasm. “Oh, cat got your tongues all of a sudden? That’s funny, because you were both so chatty before.” She folded her arms. Shit. This wasn’t going to be pretty.
“Quin. This isn’t what it looks like.”
“Don’t fucking ‘Quin’ me, King, we’re way beyond terms of endearment right now.”
“How long have you been standing there?” As ever, Rome seemed entirely unphazed by the situation.
“You mean how much of that bullshit did I hear? I was there long enough to witness you fighting over me like two schoolboys squabbling over Legos. Long enough to be pretty sure that this is exactly what it looks like—a fucking shitshow.”