“The drunken brothers. How are you feeling, fellows?” Jack said merrily when they met up by the minibus in front of the Williams' residence. “Did you know you're famous?”
Sal stuffed his backpack into the bus. “What do you mean?”
“You got drunk and started a fight in an area where such pleasantries are forbidden, and you got away with it.”
“But you know it was us starting that fight?” Carl was confused.
“Guys, it’s me: your pal from when we kicked ass in the woods. Only the Williams brothers could pull off such a stunt.” Jack sounded impressed.
“Yeah, well, it was mostly thanks to Sal’s supernatural boyfriend,” Carl said. Sal gave him an evil glare. “What I mean to say is that Seth got us out of that pickle.”
“Nice,” Jack said. He definitely sounded impressed.
“What happened to you?” Sal asked Jack.
“Well,” Jack said. He put his palms together, looking like a priest about to pray on a Sunday. “I ended up with a damsel in distress.”
“You’re kidding," Carl said, fascinated. "Who?”
“Ah, a gentleman never kisses and tells in such matters," Jack replied cheerfully. “Even though I must confess: it was unexpected.”
The guys laughed and sprayed each other with their water bottles until they were soaked. They stopped when Rosie showed up behind them.
“Don’t stop this Mr. Wet t-shirt competition on my account.”
She went straight for the bus and got in without saying anything further.
Sal stuck his head inside the bus and said, “Hey, good to see you. Are you okay? What happened to you the other night? Sorry I bailed on you. I can’t remember much.” Sal was embarrassed. He hadn’t stopped to think of what had become of Rosie that night.
Rosie smiled. “It's okay," she said. "You didn’t exactly drink alone, remember? I was right there with you. I knew you weren’t used to drinking alcohol, and I don’t blame you for anything.” Her eyes begged: please, don’t look any further into the matter, and he didn’t.
Instead, he glanced over at Jack and Carl who were scrolling through Carl’s phone, trying to figure out who Anita was.
“I get to ride shotgun," Jack said, full of optimism. “Unlike Rosie and Carl, I can actually manage to stay awake for the whole trip, and I have mad DJ skills. I'll even set up the GPS.”
Carl held up his thumb to show his approval. He was still drained.
After his successful performance with Appropriately Wicked, Jack was walking on air. Rosie put her headphones on and peered out the window while Carl napped like a boss beside her.
Jack was talking, but Sal wasn’t listening. His mind was occupied with Seth. He felt like a damn cliché: he was aware he barely knew Seth, but he couldn’t help himself.
The landscape slowly changed from rural to suburban. Everything was neat, even the length of the grass, which was a total rejection of the meadows and all things natural. The neighborhood oozed of indifference at the destruction of the natural world. How disturbingly fitting that Vickie would live there?
Sal and Carl—or their family, for that matter—had never visited Vickie in her home. Ted had probably made sure of that.