Bad Ideas (First & Forever 4)

At first, I selected a tiny six-pack, but come on—I should aim higher than that. I put it back and dropped three twenty-packs into the basket. Next, I perused the lube and grabbed a few different kinds, including one that came in individual packets, like fast food ketchup.

Because I was too embarrassed to march up to the register with nothing but lube and rubbers, I did a quick lap around the store and ended up adding a bag of chips, some toilet paper, a replacement for my taped together universal remote, and a six-pack of beer to the cart.

I didn’t realize I’d actually made it much worse until I got to the register and the cashier smirked at me. I’d accidentally painted a picture of a sex orgy with a ton of condoms and lube, followed by beer and chips in front of the TV before ending the night on the crapper. Awesome.

I returned to my car, put the grocery bag on the passenger seat, and stocked my wallet with a few rubbers and lube packets. That felt like a commitment to follow through on the whole dating app thing.

After a couple more errands, my final stop was the hospital. Oscar’s face lit up when he saw me, and he murmured, “You actually did it, you came in on your day off.”

“I always keep my promises,” I told him, as I took a seat and picked up the book.

We spent the next ninety minutes in a make-believe world, until his eyelids started to get heavy. I was surprised he lasted that long, since the pain meds made him drowsy.

I marked the page with the flap of the dust jacket and said, “This is a good stopping point, since we just finished another chapter.”

His look of disappointment broke my heart. “Do you have to go?”

“I do, because you need a nap. I’m working tomorrow starting at four. If you want me to, I’ll come in early so we can read before my shift starts.”

“Yes, please.”

I put the book on his bedside table and smiled at him. “Thanks for letting me hang out with you.”

He shook his head. “I’m supposed to be the one saying thank you.”

“But it was fun for me, too.” That brought out a little smile, and I grinned at him and said, “Take care, Oz. I’ll see you soon.”

Like always, leaving him there all alone made me feel awful. It’d be different if he had anyone else who could come and visit him. But the best I could do was think about ways to make tomorrow better for him, and then the day after that—as many days as it took until his mom woke up.

Chapter 3

When I got home and went into the kitchen, I exclaimed, “Oh wow, this has never happened before—all six of us in one place at the same time!” Lark was sitting on the counter as usual, and Kel and Yolanda were sipping coffee at the kitchen table. Meanwhile, JoJo and Eliot were sitting knee-to-knee on two of the kitchen chairs while he did her makeup.

Eliot Gutierrez was Yolanda’s cousin and our version of Clark Kent—a mild-mannered librarian by day, and a glamorous drag queen at night. The shy thirty-year-old had aspirations of performing someday, but for now he called himself a “bedroom queen,” which meant he only got dressed up at home.

His brows were knit with concentration above his glasses as he leaned in and painted a black line along JoJo’s lashes. Meanwhile, she sat perfectly still with her eyes shut. JoJo was dressed in a pink cotton bathrobe and had curlers in her hair. Some kind of foam separator things held her toes apart, presumably because the red polish on her toenails was still wet. Her fingernails had been painted in the same color.

It was only about four p.m., so I asked, “What time are we planning to leave, since you’re already primping?”

“I think we should call for a cab at five-fifteen,” Yolanda said, as she tucked her long, dark hair behind her ear. We’d decided against driving ourselves, so no one had to be the designated driver.

“That early?”

She shrugged. “It might take them a while to get here on a Saturday night. Cocktails are at six and dinner is at seven, so we might actually be cutting it close.”

“I bet it’s going to be so fun,” Lark murmured wistfully.

I put my shopping bag on the counter next to him and grimaced internally before asking, “Want to come along as my plus-one, Lark? Not as a date, just as friends.”

His high-pitched shriek made me flinch. It was so loud that dogs in a mile radius probably all whipped their heads around to see what that was. Then he exclaimed, “I’d love to go along! Thanks, Casey!”

I was probably going to regret that on multiple levels, but I said, “Yeah, no problem.”