“How does it go?”
“Let me think.” He hummed a few bars, then sang.
“Sunlight, no shadows. It’s all new again. It’s all right again. And I’m right where I’m supposed to be.”
“Hmm. You said ‘right’ twice. Otherwise, it’s not a bad start,” I teased.
Dec chuckled. “Fuck off. It’s been a while. I need a piano for that one.”
“You can play on my mom’s. Give her a mini concert. She’ll love it. She’s a big fan of yours.”
“Really?”
I did a double take. “Yeah. That’s why we’re doing this, dummy. My mom loves you.”
“She hasn’t seen me in years. I thought she might have forgotten about me.”
“Nope. And since we’re boyfriends now, I should admit that I might have accidentally sold her on you.”
He let out an amused half laugh. “Oh?”
“Yeah, my parents worry about my career choice. They support my music, but they don’t love that I live in the same shithole I have for years.”
“It’s pretty awful,” he commented.
“Yeah, well, when we agreed to start Scratch Records with Charlie, they were skeptical. But when I told them we signed your band, they loved the idea. My mom especially. She googled you and found you on the YouTube last year when you were going to do your solo gig for a hot second. She thinks you’re very talented…and cute.”
“Wow. That’s so…cool.” Dec’s voice sounded faraway and wistful. Then he whipped off his sunglasses and shifted in his seat. “She googled me? Am I googleable? Please tell me she didn’t see any Gypsy Coma bullshit. I thought that stuff was buried.”
I scoffed. “It is. You have to know what you’re looking for to find that crap. Google yourself and see what pops up.”
He pulled his phone out and tapped the screen. “Hmm. Just the videos. Phew.”
I snickered. “I can’t believe you haven’t checked before now. I thought you wanted to be famous.”
“For my music, yes. I don’t have time to worry about the social media angle. That’s one of the reasons I signed on with Charlie. He’s good at it. Did you realize that no one was talking about any old scandals when Zero toured last summer? I saw more pics of Justin’s dog and random pool-party selfies than anything. And I heard the music.”
“Huh. The ‘fake boyfriend’ thing seems risky.”
“Not if it’s just innuendo. Let people think what they want, you know?”
“I guess. Heads up, I have to tell my mom.”
“What? Why? I’m already nervous to see her. Don’t make this weird.”
“I’m not lying to her. She’s always asking if I found anyone special. If she thinks you and I are real, she’ll plan a fucking wedding. Just follow my lead on this,” I said as I veered my SUV toward the 710 exit.
“Fine. Are you hungry?” Dec reached into his bag.
“I swear to God, I will pull over if you open that onion crap.”
“That’s kinda hot,” he purred. “Are you gonna spank me too?”
I furrowed my brow when he cackled like a loon. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
“Not a thing. Don’t tell me you never had that daddy fantasy. It’s one of my favorites.”
“It’s definitely not mine. Probably because my dad actually did pull the car over when we were too rowdy in the back seat. Ruined any chance of fantasy material.”
“Your dad? He’s the most mild-mannered guy ever.”
I gave a half laugh. “Yeah. True story…my sisters and I got in a fight on the way home from our grandparents’ house. Our parents took turns telling us to behave. Then Dad lost his cool and told us he was gonna pull the car over if we didn’t quiet down immediately. It worked for a few miles, but Maggie did something to piss me off or vice versa, and the show was on again. So, Dad pulled over.”
“And then what?”
“Nothing. He sat there with his arms crossed, staring out the windshield till Mom asked what he was doing. He looked over at her and said, ‘I have no idea. I guess we’ll just sit here.’ He punished us with boredom. We laughed at the time, but it became his thing.”
“Hmm. Kind of genius, but not the fantasy material I had in mind. Put your hand out.”
“No, thanks.”
“No onions, I promise.” Dec smacked my hand when I stuck it out with my palm down. “Don’t look. Just pop it in your mouth.”
I obeyed and winced the second the licorice hit my tongue. I pulled to a stop at a red light off the freeway, then spat the candy out onto my palm and examined it while the dork beside me chortled good-naturedly.
“Is this a black jellybean?”
“Sure looks like one.”
“I hate black jellybeans.”
“Now I know we definitely can’t be real boyfriends. Give it to me.” He motioned for me to hand it over and popped it into his mouth.
“Yuck, dude. That was in my mouth.”