Page 69 of Cry Baby
Good, Asshole.
I stopped in front of his desk. “What do you remember from last night?”
He looked up slowly, blinking at me like he was trying to put three floating images into one.
“Morning to you, too, Sarge.”
“What do you remember?”
Ryan frowned and leaned back in his chair, hiding behind his coffee. “We went to O’Malley’s?”
“I know where we went, dumbass. What else?”
“You bought the first round.”
“I know that.”
Ryan frowned and stared into his coffee like he was searching for answers in there. “You started talking shit to somebody.”
That caught my attention.
“Who?”
He squinted, thinking harder.
“I don’t know, boss, a scrawny-ish dude.”
My jaw tightened, and realization flashed. “Are you talking about Jailbait?”
His eyebrows pulled together. “The blond guy, you mean?”
“Yeah.”
“I remember seeing him. Yeah. You guys hate each other. I can’t tell if you wanna fight or fuck.”
“You walked off with him,” I said quickly, trying to deter any more of that line of conversation.
Ryan stared at me for a long second and shook his head. “Did I?”
“You don’t remember?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and nursed his coffee. “Nope. It’s all very fuzzy…”
“Try.”
“I am trying!”
His eyes drifted toward the ceiling, and he squinted at the light up there. “I remember going outside for a smoke?”
“You don’t even smoke, Ryan.”
“Right.” He let out a frustrated breath and cursed. “Jesus. That’s weird. I could’ve sworn I was smokin’ with the blond and his creepy gothic cheerleader girlfriend, or whatever she is.”
“Did he give you anything? Why can’t you remember anything?”
Ryan laughed, but it was forced and awkward. “What? Like drugs? Nah, man…”
Even he didn’t sound convinced.
