by D. Kelly
Pulling a pack of AA batteries from his box, I hand it back. “I can take care of myself, Dec, I have been for a long time now. See you tomorrow.”
two
Declan
Some people call me an asshole. Others, a scrumptious piece of ass. Without a doubt, I’m both of those, but I’m also an idiot. Two years ago, I lost the love of my life, and tonight I’m going to explain to my followers how I got myself into this ridiculousness in the first place. Call it step five thousand and fifty of my “Get Holly Back” campaign.
“Welcome to another edition of The Funhouse. Today is Tequila Tuesday, and our topic of the night, ladies and gents, is passion and women. Not just women, but the woman, my woman. That’s right, you heard correctly. Before we get started, it’s time for you to catch up because this is shot number six right here,” I say, tossing back the prelude to my seventh shot of Patrón. I’m pretty sure from some of their comments already, they’ve been hitting the bottle longer than I have today. Either that, or I’m drunker than I thought.
“The worst part about the process of dating anyone are the mistakes we make along the way. That’s what dating is, right? Trial and error until we either fuck up too much, get fed up with someone else’s shit, or if we’re lucky, we find the person who adores us in spite of our idiocy. I had one of those once … a girl who loved me despite my stupidity.
“Until I made that one relationship-altering mistake. It was a fuckup of epic proportions. I cannonballed into the conclusion pool like a MoFo. Instead of listening to reason, I swam in the deep end for a while. By the time I realized what an idiot I was, the love of my life had already slipped through my fingers.”
Pausing momentarily, my eyes flick down to watch all the comments pouring onto my live feed. I guess you could say I’m a bit of an internet celebrity. Back in college, I started talking to the world about my thoughts and opinions, and people started listening. The next thing I knew, I had millions of followers, advertisers, and groupies. The whole thing is very strange, but the money and perks have by far exceeded any job I could ever land. In fact, if I live modestly and invest wisely, I’m completely set for life at the ripe age of twenty-five. Now that live-streaming with comments on social media is the new trend, I give my fans at least one live feed a week. If they want anything else, they need to hit up my channel because that is my bread and butter.
“‘You’re one of L.A.’s most eligible bachelors under thirty. How drunk are you tonight? Did you hit your head?’ Good observation, Wet4Dec. I’m quite drunk tonight, which is why I’m being truthful. I’m a bachelor for a reason. I haven’t had feelings for any of the women I’ve fucked in the past two years.”
As they process that, I read some of the earlier replies.
“Seems like some of you know where I’m coming from, so I’ll elaborate. The night of the big mistake was one much like tonight. Fun time with a friend, too much alcohol, and then instead of getting the sex I was hoping for, I overheard a conversation I wasn’t supposed to. I took it to extremes instead of, you know … talking it out, and I suddenly found myself single. It took me about six months, but I eventually owned up to my mistake, did everything I could to make it right, but nothing worked. I’d already blown it. It’s been two years now, to the day, in fact.”
Lifting my shot to my watchers, I toss back number seven. It goes down smoother than the six before it, and I push the bottle away, hoping to avoid spending the night with the porcelain god. Or even worse, drunk texting Holly. Hot Holly. Smoking Hot Holly. Love of my life Holly. Fuck … which is what I want to do to Holly.
“Holly, if you’re watching, you know I’ve been trying to make amends. I’ve apologized relentlessly for my mistakes. It’s time to forgive me.” My bleary eyes scan the comments and settle on one that makes me laugh. “Hm, DeezNutz says ‘only pussies admit mistakes.’ Everyone makes mistakes, asshat, and calling yourself DeezNutz probably isn’t your first.”
The anniversary of our breakup is hitting me harder this year than last. I’m realizing going live while drunk and talking about Holly isn’t one of my finest moments. I’m drowning without her and hoping somehow this will encourage her to throw me a lifeline.
“The question of the hour seems to be, why am I pouring my drunken soul out to you guys at nearly midnight? It’s a valid question. Ladies and gentlemen, you might want to sit down for this. I’m in love. Have been since I was a teenager. Yes, Baxter Ross, I’m still single for now, don’t have a coronary. And Baxter, despite your many messages professing your undying love, I’m still straight, too. Sorry, buddy, but I understand your pain. See, I fell in love with my best friend, the girl next door, my prom date, the girl who popped my cherry, you get where I’m going with this.”
I quickly glance at the comments until I find a good one. “Yes, Shari Pryor, I did fuck it up and I’m an idiot. I thought time apart was what we needed to find ourselves and experience the world. Like I said before, it was an epically stupid mistake.”
They’re getting heated, and it excites me. This is why I started doing videos in the first place. I tend to get overly passionate about things and I wanted to interact with others who do, too. I don’t care if it’s because you’re passionate over what toppings go on your hot dog, just find some fucking passion and show it. Granted, my usual focus is more in line with politics and social injustices, but considering passion, or lack of it, is partially what got me in this mess in the first place. It’s also the topic of the day. Holly and I had become complacent, and that’s never a good thing, especially at twenty-three.
“What the fuck does this have to do with you? Good question, Paulie Green. The answer is nothing, but this is my fucking livestream, so I’m piss-ass drunk and pouring my heart out to the world tonight. You’re free to go watch something else, but I’m pretty sure you get off on watching me make a fool out of myself or you wouldn’t be here.”
Some nights I like to get on here and talk shit. You’d think my viewership would drop when I’m being an asshole. It’s the opposite—when I really fuck up, my audience grows. Go figure; the world loves watching people self-destruct.
“‘Does she know?’ That’s the best question I’ve seen yet. Yes, Debbie Briggs, she knows and she acts like she doesn’t care, but I know better. She knew I was an idiot when she fell in love with me, so she must know I’m still going to have my moments. I’ve pushed myself into her life every way I can, done things I don’t even want to admit. Women who don’t know me might call it stalking, but Holly knows I can be excessive at times.”
This is where I’m going to take a chance, but it’s worth it if it works. “If I know Holly as well as I think I do, I’m sure she’s watching tonight. Listen up, Holls, this is important. I miss the fuck out of you, and I’m upping my game from here on out. You guys are my witnesses and I expect you to hold me accountable. Start an internet campaign DecNHolls4ever and yeah, I already see you smartasses making Christmas jokes in the comments. Trust me, it’s nothing we haven’t heard before.”
I rapidly scan the comments for some that will help me in my plight. “‘Is she worth it?’ Why yes, Raising2babiesonmyown, she’s the only woman I’ve ever met who is. Keep your fingers crossed for me. This is a game I’ll never get tired of playing. My girl is smart, but if I can find her weakness, the tiniest of wormholes, I’ll work my way in and never let her go again.”
“‘If you love her so much why are you calling it a game?’ Amy Rhodes, you look like a sweetheart so I’m going to give you the real answer. I hurt Holly, more than I ever thought possible, and I hurt myself in the process. Strategizing this like a game is the only way I feel I’ve got a shot. Games are winnable and fun. I won’t accept defeat because if I do, I’ll die old and alone.”
The next comment I see makes me laugh. Fucking Baxter. He’s not only my number-one follower but he’s also my best friend. “Baxter, I see you, and it doesn’t matter how big of a stick you’re swinging, I’m not switching teams. On that not
e, where are all my single, gay, male followers? Do I have any other than Baxter? If so, and you’re in the Southern California area, send me a headshot and tell me why you should get a date with Baxter Ross. If I’m going to play a game with my love life, I think I should play one with his as well. Until next time … Declan out.”
My phone rings immediately after the feed goes dead. “Yes, Bax, what can I do for you?”
“You’re such a fucker, Declan, but you’re going to send me those headshots, right?”
I’m laughing; Baxter knows the kind of headshots I’m going to get from this. “You know that was all for you. Make sure you check those messages diligently for the next month. I don’t want any dick pics getting through.”
“Yes, boss.” Baxter is my personal assistant. He has a real job, but the twenty bucks an hour I pay him to help keep up with my email and social media pages is worth every penny. In exchange for the help, he swoops in on the perks and either takes them for himself when offered or has first dibs on being my plus one. “Do you really think Holly was watching? Tonight of all nights?”
“Especially tonight of all nights. She misses me as much as I do her. I see it in her eyes every time she looks at me.”
“Are you sure you don’t need your eyes examined? I’m pretty sure that’s disgust, Dec.”
“Nah, she hates me for sure, but I can still tell she loves me more than the hate. Love always wins in the end, right?”
Baxter sighs at the unsureness of my tone. “Man, I don’t know. I’ve loved you since seventh grade and you still won’t give up the D for me.” Only he could make me laugh like this. Baxter does love me and has had a crush on me for years, but he knows I could never go for the D, just like he’ll never sink into a hot, wet pussy.
“God put us on opposite teams for a reason. We’re much better friends than lovers, even if you are a sexy piece of man meat.”
He cracks up on the other end of the line. “That was such a fun night. Memories like that almost make me regret getting you in the split instead of Sage and Holly.”
“You like your employee perks too much to regret ending up on my team, which is where you’ve always wanted to be anyway.”
“True. All right, I’ve got to be up early for my real job, but do me a favor and don’t go knock on her door or drunk text her, okay?”
“No promises.”
“Declan …”
“All right, I won’t go to her door.”
With an exaggerated sigh, he replies, “You’ll regret it in the morning. You always do.”
“Warning noted. Night, Bax.”
“Night, Dec.”
As soon as he hangs up, I text Holly.
Can I come over?
Holly: Sleep it off, Declan
I miss you.
Holly: Should have thought about that before fucking anything with two legs.
I haven’t fucked sexy piece of man meat yet.
Holly: The operative word in that sentence is yet.
Be fair, Holls …
Holly: Why? You never are. Let me go, Declan … it’s time.
Never.
Holly: Then at least let me go to sleep. Some of us have to work in the morning.
Come work for me.
Holly: Not if I were starving and you held the key to all the food in the kingdom.
Sleep well, love
Holly: I’m not your love.
Bullshit—always and forever—that’s what we promised.
Holly: We also promised to only be with each other.
I never cheated.
Holly: You might as well have.
Happy Anniversary
And that’s where I lost her. I’m surprised it took so long; she usually cuts me off sooner. I’m wearing her down, I can feel it.
three
Declan
“Holy shit, Baxter!” I exclaim the second we’re in my room. There are boxes everywhere from our move, but the first thing my mom did was make the bed, so that’s where we sit.
“Your mom is going to be pissed if she hears you cussing,” he points out with a know-it-all grin.
“Yeah, I know, but dude … Holly Ryan lives next door to me!”
“Um, actually, I think you live next door to her. She’s been here longer.”
Shaking my head at his ridiculous correction, I jump up from the bed and peek out my window, which has the perfect view into Holly’s bedroom.
“What is it about her you like so much anyway? I mean, she’s got braces and acne like every other girl in our grade.”
Sometimes I don’t understand him; he never gets excited about girls the way I do. He’s right about Holly, too. She’s sort of in this ugly duckling phase right now, but that just means she’ll turn into a swan later. Right?
“She’s nice, Bax.” Shrugging, the heat creeps into my cheeks.
“So is your mom, but I’m not all out of breath and blushing over her.”
“Totally not the same, and why did you have to take it to my mom?”
He laughs. “Aside from the fact your mom is the town MILF and completely single?” In less than three seconds, I’ve got Baxter pressed up against the wall by the throat. “Uncle,” he gasps, and I ease off a bit.
“Don’t ever talk about my mom like that again. I’m not playing, Bax, I will hurt you.” Baxter is small for our age. He’s a preppy dresser and hates playing sports but kicks ass on video games. There’s just something different about him, but like Holly, he’s nice and has been my best friend since third grade. We moved to California to be closer to my mom’s family after my dad left us. Meeting Baxter was one of the only good things to happen that year.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, and I release him. “I know you’re protective of your mom, and besides, she’s not my type.”
Finally. Now we can talk about girls. “What is your type? If it’s not my mom, and it’s not Holly, what the hell do you go for?”
“Um … dark hair and light eyes?”
“Like Sage …”
“No, not like Sage.” His eyes dart around my room, looking anywhere but at me. Eventually, he sighs and looks me in the eye. “I’m gay, Declan.”
Holy shit!
I’ll never forget the fearful look in his eyes as long as I live. I mean, I get how telling someone something like that could be scary, and I did just have him pressed up against the wall, but …
“Okay … so definitely not like Sage,” I reply, taking a seat next to him.
His mouth opens and closes like a guppy until he finally finds his words. “You’re not angry with me?”
“Why should I be? Are you angry with me for liking Holly?”
“Maybe, but I know I shouldn’t be,” he whispers, sadness filling his eyes.
Leaning against the wall, we’re quiet for a bit, and I know whatever I say next is going to be something Baxter will never forget. I’m guessing the night you come out to your best friend is something that would be unforgettable, so I decide to take a line from my mom’s playbook.
“Dude, I’m proud of you. We’ve been best friends for six years and I’m sure that wasn’t easy to say. Do your parents know?”
He nods. “Yeah, my mom said she’s known since I was three, but she was just waiting for me to feel comfortable enough to acknowledge it myself. I told them last year.”
“Well, think of it this way … we’ll never fight over girls.”
He laughs until he’s almost crying. “Definitely not.”
“Here’s the thing … I know I’m hot, and you can totally crush on me if you want to, but it would be a waste of time. I’m not gay.”
“I know, and what sucks is I am sort of crushing on you. I’m sorry if that’s TMI.”
“You’re my best friend, Bax, and always will be. Once we find you a boyfriend you won’t even remember why you ever crushed on me in the first place.”
Turning to me, Baxter holds my gaze. “You’re really not pissed? You’re still going to be my frien
d?”
“Why the fuck wouldn’t I be? Who you like has nothing to do with what kind of friend you are. Is that why you didn’t tell me last year?”
“No, I didn’t tell you because I was still kind of letting it all settle. Now that we’re going into high school and I’m not worried about my family freaking out anymore, I wanted you to be the first to know. Keeping secrets from my best friend sucks, and I didn’t want that barrier between us anymore. But I’ve read horror stories online about kids who lost their friends because they’re gay. People they never thought wouldn’t have their back. I guess I was afraid things would change between us.”
Poor Baxter.
“Sorry, but you’re stuck with me and all of my hotness.”
“Fuck you, dude. Don’t let it go to your head or anything. You’re not the only hot guy on my list, just the one I have the most access to.”
“Who else is on your list?”
“Uh, isn’t this weird for you? You don’t need to feel like you have to talk to me about this kind of stuff.”
“You going to stop letting me talk to you about girls? Especially about Holly?”
“No, but this is different. It’s not—”
“Don’t you dare fucking say normal,” I snap at him, and he blushes.
“I was going to say it’s not common.”
“It’s not uncommon, either, Bax. What kind of gay are you? You have just as much right to love who you want as I do. I just don’t want you wasting your time loving someone who can’t love you back the way you want them to. Do you understand?”
He nods. “When did you become such a gay advocate?”
I shrug. “My dad’s brother is gay. I haven’t seen him since my dad split, but you know how my mom is. She’s all about equality and treating people right.”
My mom sticks her head in my door at that exact moment. “That’s right, and what else do I always tell you two? Looks aren’t as important as how someone treats you. Inner beauty is much more attractive than outer beauty.”
“Yes, Mom.”
“Yes, Mrs. James,” Bax echoes.