by TJ Klune
Serge and Xander exchanged a look before Serge said, “That’s… Josy, that’s not how things work. At all.”
Josy scowled at them. “You don’t know that! Serge, did I try and crap all over your dream when you decided you wanted to open a yoga studio after you randomly went to India?”
“No,” Serge said slowly. “But you initially thought yoga was a type of Chinese food.”
“And when I found out it wasn’t?”
Serge sighed. “You did the splits and asked if that was yoga. And then screamed that you’d broken your balls.”
“Exactly. And Xander, when you wanted to open your tattoo parlor, did I tell you it was a bad idea?”
Xander sat back in his chair, crossing his arms. “You said that if it was my dream to give sorority girls tramp stamps, then you would support me. But that’s not what I—”
“Damn right,” Josy crowed. “So yes. Whatever you guys do, I’m there for you. And now all I’m asking for is for one of you to go to a poetry slam with me so I don’t lose my streak of good luck that will one day land me a pilot on the CW where I will play a sixteen-year-old, even though I’ll be, like, thirty.”
Xander looked at Serge. “I went with him to the monster truck rally when he won tickets. That should count for at least six times.”
“You also ended up fucking the man who drove the monster truck that looked like a llama,” Serge reminded him. “I had to go to the wrestling match where the drunk guy sitting next to us told me he wasn’t into that queer shit, but that my mouth was wide and to meet him in the bathroom.”
Xander sniffed. “It’s not my fault you didn’t go.”
“He was there with his wife and fifteen children! He had a Confederate flag on his shirt! And who the hell hits on someone by telling them they have a wide mouth?”
“You would think for as little you get laid, you wouldn’t be fighting opportunities to—”
“That’s disgusting!”
“It was a joke. I don’t have to—who are you calling?”
Josy glared at both of them as he held the phone up to his ear. “My best friend, seeing as how my other best friends are being stupid and I don’t want to talk to them right now.”
Xander groaned. “Jesus. I can’t believe you think he’s your best friend. He’s fucking weird.”
“Don’t be mean,” Serge chided him. “Josy is allowed to—”
“Thank you for calling Pastor Tommy’s Video Rental Emporium, where we offer recommendations based on your every need. This is Casey. How can I help you?”
“Casey,” Josy moaned into the phone. “I need him.”
“Oh man,” Casey said. “I was wondering what took so long. You’ve been at brunch for fifteen minutes already. You normally call before then. Gus was getting worried. Hold on.”
“You’ve done it now,” Serge muttered.
“It’s not my fault Josy has this dumb thing with—”
Josy ignored them, instead focusing on what sounded like a scuffle coming on the other end of the phone. He heard Casey say, “Just take it. You know you want to,” and a grumpy voice replied, “You have to know how that sounds. You’re doing this against my will, and that’s illegal.”
Josy already felt better.
There was an aggrieved sigh, and the grumpy voice spoke into the phone. “Gustavo Tiberius speaking.”
“Gustavo!” Josy cried. “I need you.”
“No,” Gustavo said. “No, no, no. Casey said it was a customer with a question. My trust has been betrayed. Do you have any idea what day it is?”
“Tuesday,” Josy said. “The same day I always call you.”
“It’s ninety-nine cent rental day. I’m busy.”
“But I need your advice. You know that you’re the only person in the world who I trust to give me advice. It’s why you’re my best friend.”
“I am no such thing! I barely even know you!”
“Don’t lie, man. We talk every Tuesday, and you always pretend that you don’t like it. Casey told me you were worried.”
“I wasn’t worried. I merely wondered why you hadn’t bothered me yet. For all you know, I have a line of customers out the door and don’t have time for your inane prattling.”
“Do you have a line of customers out the door?”
Silence. Then, “No.”
“Good,” Josy said, relieved. “Because this is important.”
Gustavo made a strangled noise. “Fine. But make it quick. The We Three Queens will be here shortly, and I’ll need to reshelve the movie they return before they select the next one. I need to focus.”
“What are they up to now?”
“A German film called Mein Bruder, Der Vampir, or literally translated, My Brother, the Vampire, even though for some reason, it was released in the United States under the title Getting My Brother Laid. Apparently Americans won’t go see an obscure foreign film about a mentally disabled man falling in love with his brother’s girlfriend unless there is the promise of sex. I don’t understand people.”
“Right? That’s exactly my problem!”
“Your problem is Mein Bruder, Der Vampir?”
“No,” Josy said. “My problem is that Xander and Serge won’t tell me which one of them will go with me to the poetry slam I won tickets for by getting the right answer on the radio.”
“What.”
“You don’t understand German vampires have sex, and I don’t get why people won’t go with me to a poetry slam.”
“I don’t like you.”
“Yes, you do. Casey said—”
“Casey is stoned right now. Anything he says can’t be trusted.”
“Huh. I’m also stoned, though it was shitty ragweed—”
“You’re so—ugh. Fine. If I tell you what to do, do you promise never to call me again?”
“You know I can’t do that, Gustavo. You’re one of my best friends. What would I do without you?”
“Fall into a river of lava and die?” Gustavo asked hopefully.
“Probably, which is why I need you.”
Gustavo groaned. “Fine. Xander has to go with you because of how he ditched you at the monster truck rally to go have sex with the llama monster truck driver, and if you ever make me repeat a sentence like that again, I will cancel your video membership to the Emporium that you made me give you under duress, and you will never be allowed to rent a movie from my store again. Do you understand me?”
“Oh no,” Josy said. “Wherever else would I go to watch movies? If only there was some newfangled technology where I could download anything I wanted online.”
“The Internet is a fad that is full of Tumbling and children who write explicit fan fiction pornography based upon my boyfriend’s books. They should be outside playing with pinecones or hula hoops or whatever it is children do these days, not talking about a fictional threesome that will never happen.”
“Did you read the one I emailed Casey where Desmondo and Martindale had tentacles for hands and stuck them up Catarina’s—”
“Never call here again!”
The phone beeped in his ear as Gustavo disconnected the call.
Josy immediately felt better. Gustavo did that for him. Ever since he’d run his lines for his audition for Campbell’s Chunky Classic Chicken Noodle Soup with Gustavo that had somehow turned into a harrowing tale of familial strife and patricide, they had had a close bond. Granted, Gustavo hadn’t seen it that way for a very long time, but Gustavo was a whale and Josy was his barnacle. It was just meant to be.
“Gustavo said Xander has to go with me because of the llama monster truck guy,” Josy announced, setting his phone down on the table.
“And why, exactly, do I need to do anything he says?” Xander asked.
“Because you ditched me,” Josy said slowly, “to screw a guy who drove a monster truck shaped like a llama.”
Xander blinked. “That’s—okay. I’ve got nothing to say to that. I’ll go to your poetry slam thing.”
>
“Good. Now that that’s settled, someone better bring me some eggs and hash browns. Is this brunch or is it communist China? Also, what’s communism?”
LATER, AS he smoked another bowl while getting ready for work, he sent a quick text.
Xander sez he goin. Thks.
He got a response less than a minute later. I don’t know what any of that says. Use full words like a normal person. You have somewhat of a grasp of the English language. Use it.
It was followed by a second text.
You’re welcome.
“I CAN’T believe this is how I’m spending my Friday night,” Xander muttered as they walked toward the building lit up in front of them. “I at least thought this was going to be at a coffee shop. You didn’t say anything about a library. Who the hell goes to a library?”
“Librarians,” Josy said. He straightened his suspenders over the gnarly Hypercolor shirt Serge had given him as a birthday present. Serge had found it on eBay, and though it didn’t change colors anymore, just the fact that he had one was enough for Josy. Well, mostly. Yes, he had spent a good hour and a half blowing on it to see if it would work, even going as far as to consider shoving it in the microwave, but he didn’t know if the Hypercolor technology would start a fire, so he just accepted it for what it was: a piece of history that he could wear whenever he wanted. “People who like books. Older men who can’t look up porn online at home.”
“I’m so mad at you right now.”
“That indica tablet kicking in yet?”
Xander rolled his eyes. “Mellow, right?”
“Supposed to be.”
“Yeah. It’s working. I like it.”
“Casey sent it to me. And this topical lotion infused with THC. I rub it on my feet.”
“I didn’t need to know that.”
“My feet feel good.”
“Don’t talk about your feet.”
“My socks have cows on them. I don’t know where I got them.”
Xander sighed. “I bought them for you.”
“Oh. Right. Sorry, man. I’m like, really mellow right now.”
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Xander muttered. Then, “Why are there so many people here?”
And there were a lot more than Josy expected. Granted, he wasn’t an expert when it came to library-based poetry slams, but even he was surprised how many people were already lining up outside. And none of them were wearing berets, which he thought was practically a requirement. He was thankful he’d decided to leave his own beret at home. It hadn’t matched his outfit.
“People must really like poetry,” Josy said as they reached the end of the line, others already starting to gather behind them. “Culture or whatever.”
“We could be having culture in a bar right now.”
“Yeah, but this is free. And maybe for once, I don’t have to sit next to you as your wingman while you and Serge try to find your next conquest.”
That wiped the scowl from Xander’s face. He almost looked uncharacteristically concerned. It was probably just the tablet, but still. “You don’t like going out with us?”
Josy shrugged and looked away. He hadn’t meant to bring this up. “I mean… I don’t know. I love you guys, but it gets kind of old after a little while. I don’t like the same things you guys do. It was better when Casey was here. You know, Aces Unite! Or whatever. But now that he’s in Oregon with Gustavo, it’s just… different.”
“I didn’t even think about that,” Xander admitted, and Josy felt a little bad. “I’m not trying to make you feel left out. And I know Serge isn’t either.”
Josy didn’t want to talk about this right now. His tablet was kicking in pretty good, and he didn’t like feeling down when he was stoned. It made things worse. “I know you don’t. Let’s just—”
“You want like… a boyfriend? Or something?”
Well, yes. Of course he did. Didn’t everyone? Someone who could laugh with him and go to poetry slams without being guilted into it by a video store owner in Oregon. Someone who wasn’t necessarily preoccupied with getting laid all the time. It wasn’t that Josy didn’t like sex. It just took him a long time to ever get to the point where he thought sex was something he wanted with a person. And usually the guy was long gone by then. Josy had learned rather quickly that people didn’t put time into things without a payoff. And it sucked, because he couldn’t ever guarantee there’d be one. It wasn’t how he was wired.
But a boyfriend who liked to get stoned and maybe lay on top of each other on a couch while they called in to radio stations to win tickets for things? Josy could be okay with that.
He shrugged. “I dunno, man. I mean, it’s like—okay. You and Serge like sticking your dicks in things, right?”
The woman in front of them turned slowly to stare at them.
“He means people,” Xander said quickly. “Not things. I like sticking my dick in people.”
“Well, you’d be in the right place,” she said before turning back around, whatever that meant.
Xander punched Josy on the arm. “Maybe think before you speak?”
Josy shrugged. “I’m stoned, man. You know how I get when I’m stoned. Like, words. All the words.”
“You really miss Casey, huh?”
“Yeah. I mean, of course I do. I know he’s all small-town hipster lumberjack now. And he’s happy, which is awesome. He gets to write his books, he gets to be around Gustavo all the time—”
“Oh, because that’s such a great thing,” Xander muttered.
Josy ignored him. “And he even got to open his 420-friendly bed-and-breakfast in Abby. That’s living the life, man. Go for the strawberry festivals, stay for the edibles at Baked-Inn & Eggs.”
Xander stared at him strangely. “Is that what you want?”
“To run a bed-and-breakfast called Baked-Inn & Eggs? Nah. I mean, I wouldn’t say no. Did you see the new updated menu? He made pot peanut butter! The chunky kind. You can put it on toast and everything.” He frowned. “Now I’m hungry. Did you bring snacks?”
“No, I didn’t bring—I’m not talking about the bed-and-breakfast. I’m talking about the whole… life that’s he’s living. If you could even call it that.”
Josy squinted at him. “That’s not nice. I don’t get why you can’t be happy for him. I know you don’t like Gustavo for reasons that make absolutely no sense, but they’re good for each other. Casey is happier than he’s ever been. And Gustavo even smiles once a week now by himself.”
“I’m not talking about Gus,” Xander said as he rolled his eyes. “I’m talking about you.”
The line slowly began to move forward. “Oh. What was the question again? I’m pretty high right now and I totally forgot what we’re talking about. Did you say you brought snacks?”
Xander rubbed a hand over his face. “Do you want a boyfriend?”
“Oh yeah! I mean, sure. I wouldn’t say no to a boyfriend. But you know how people get when I tell them I’m demi. I had one guy say it wasn’t a thing because there’s a lot of people who don’t want to have sex until there’s a more meaningful connection. I mean, yeah, but it’s not the same thing.”
Xander scowled. “People like him aren’t worth your time. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“Because then you’d get that pissed-off look you have on your face right now when you’re trying to figure out how to murder someone and get away with it.”
“I don’t like it when people make you feel like shit. It’s not fair.”
Josy linked his arm through Xander’s and tugged him close. “I know. It’s why I love you.”
“You get so sappy when you’re stoned.”
“You like it.”
“No one will ever believe you.”
They reached the stairs and slowly began to climb them. “It’d be easier if I could love you like that. Or Serge.”
Xander choked. “Oh dear god.”
“Hey! We’d be good together!”
“Josy, don’t ta
ke this the wrong way, but I would never, ever want to have sex with you.”
“Oh no,” Josy breathed. “I’m taking it the wrong way. I don’t like being high and sad.”
“I told you not to,” Xander said. “You’re like my very annoying little brother. Sure, I thought you were hot when we first met—”
“Was that when I was dancing and you stuck your hands down the back of my pants?”
“—but then you started talking and talking and talking, and I realized I liked you too much to throw it all away for a quick fuck.”
Josy was absurdly touched. “I wouldn’t have had sex with you anyway.”
Xander sighed. “I know, Josy. I know. But the fact remains I would rather have what we have now than anything else. You know that, right?”
Josy did. Xander was a dick and had a reputation as a muscle ice queen, but if he loved you, it was for life. There weren’t many people in the world Xander felt that way about, and Josy considered himself one of the lucky few. “I know. I just get…. I dunno, man. It gets a little lonely, sometimes.”
Xander kissed the side of his head. “You’ll find someone. I promise. And they’ll like you for you. The demi thing, the sock thing, the fact that you like radio trivia and make us go to poetry slams in libraries even though we could be literally anywhere else in the world. What about that ace dating app I made you download? What was it called?”
“Nuzzlr.”
“Yeah, that. Anything come from that?”
“Definitely. Some guy wanted to tie me to my bed and tickle me.”
“Yikes.”
“Yeah, I think the app still has a few kinks it needs to work out.” He laughed. “Literally. Get it? Kinks to work out? Because the guy wanted to tickle me—”
“I get it, Josy.”
They were nearly at the top of the stairs. “There wasn’t a lot of people on it, even for LA. And it just feels weird, you know? I’m not made for that kind of thing. I need to be friends with someone first.”