Page 115 of So This Is War
“Are you going to ignore us?” Pacey asks as he picks up a plate as well and follows me down the line of food.
“What makes you think I’m ignoring you?” I ask as I plop some eggs and a pile of bacon on my plate. One time, ournutritionist, Tony, had some cooked bologna as a treat for me . . . God, that was my best day. I haven’t seen it since, which makes me want to ask him about it and see if he’ll make me some more.
“Uh, you ditched us last night.”
“So,” I say as I grab a protein smoothie at the end of the buffet and sit at the table where Silas, Eli, and Halsey are already sitting. “You guys ditch me every night.”
“I don’t,” OC says as he picks up a plate and follows Pacey. “I’m there for you, man.”
“You ditched me the other night.”
“For a friend I haven’t seen in a while,” he defends. “Normally, I’m there for you, stroking your ego, telling you what a beautifully strong man you are.”
“Jesus Christ, this guy,” Silas says. “Sucking up to Posey because you think he’s going to help you with your love problems?”
“No,” OC says and then winces at me. “Maybe a little.”
“I told you,” I say. “All in good time.”
“Is that because you’re trying to figure out your own love life?” Eli asks as he takes a bite of a floppy piece of bacon.
There are two types of people in the world. People who let a piece of bacon slap their chin after biting into it, and people who like their bacon to turn into dust in their mouth after one bite.
The floppy-bacon chin-slappers, those are the people you need to look out for. They’re the freaks. The wild ones. The type of person who thinks it’s funny to say things like . . . “Oh, long time no see” even though they saw you five minutes ago. I’d suggest detaching yourself from that type of person. They’re unsavory, untrustworthy, and loose cannons.
Unfortunately for me, it’s too late to detach from Hornsby.
But save yourselves!
“I don’t have a love life,” I say while I pick up my piece of crispy and erect bacon. No flaccid meat on my plate, that’s for damn sure.
“I don’t believe it,” Pacey says as he takes a seat next to me. “You’re hiding something. It’s obvious.”
“Maybe it has something to do with his new assistant,” Silas says with a conspiratory glance in my direction. A glance slightly incriminating. Like he knows something. I’m going to have to check in with the Quibbling Queens—name not finalized—to see if they’ve been speaking to their men.
“Nothing is going on there, and also, keep your fucking voice down because everyone knows who my new assistant is, and the last fucking thing I need is gossip to be spread about Coach Wood’s daughter. He’d have my dick in a vise so fast, I wouldn’t even know he tore my pants down.”
“The imagery on that,” Eli says while shaking his head. “Fuck.”
“Yeah, not sure Coach Wood is the one to pull pants down,” Pacey says. “I think it would be more of a stare that would scare your pants right off your body. Like a Darth Vader, Kylo Ren-type move. One lift of his hands and blamo, pants are off.”
Silas nods. “Yeah, that feels right. Can’t see him taking the time to unbutton your pants only to yank them to your ankles.”
“I’ve seen him fumble with his pen before,” OC says. “Not sure the dexterity is there to make a smooth transition on the pants.”
“You saw him fumble his pen?” Eli asks, horror on his face. “Did he know you saw that?”
“No.” OC shakes his head. “Fuck, imagine if he did? I wouldn’t have eyes. He would have popped them out with an old one-two jab-jab to the eye sockets. I’d be eyeless.”
“It would be unfortunate,” Pacey says. “But it would serve you right for catching him in such a vulnerable state.”
“You’re all idiots,” Halsey says while shaking his head. “You’ve let Posey fuck with your heads.”
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” I ask, offended because frankly, this conversation is right up my alley.
Dexterous fingers.
Pulling pants down.
