The Art of Breathing (The Seafare Chronicles 3) - Page 140

“Come to mingle with the slovenly today, have we, your majesty?” Sandy asks sweetly. “What a joyous occasion this is! It’s akin to the time that drunk guy threw up on me at the bar.”

“It’s the same for me,” Darren says. His gaze lands on me. He flashes a predatory smile that makes my knees just a tad bit weak. “Hi there. I’m Darren. Vince’s brother.”

Dominic moves until he’s standing in front of me just a little bit. Weird.

“Then why are you here?” Sandy asks.

“Because I know it pisses you off,” Darren says, sounding bored. “And I didn’t have anything better to do.”

“No little twinkie bartenders in the storeroom this morning to fuck where just anyone can stumble across you two?”

“That was last night.” He winks at me.

“You whore!” Paul says, sounding scandalized.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Vince groans.

“Brunch is served!” Sandy says with false cheer.

Jesus fucking Christ.

21. Where Tyson Receives Advice from the Six Sages

SAGE THE First:

“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this,” I mutter to Kori as I follow the group up the sidewalk on Fourth Avenue to a bar called Jack It. “Nobody in the world should ever wear skinny jeans. I look ridiculous.” And I do. In addition to the bright blue skinny jeans, I’m wearing a tight white shirt that barely covers my stomach, and my hair is flipped up and messy, held in place by some aptly named product called Cement. I look like a hipster douchebag.

She glances over at me with a wry grin, her hair freshly curled around her face. “Oh please,” she says. “You look fucking hot. Well, you would if you’d stop walking like you have a butt plug up your ass.”

“I have to,” I argue. “It’s the only way people won’t be able to tell that I’m circumcised. Why do you even own pants like this? They’re a torture device!”

“It’s all to show off the goods.”

“I don’t want to show off my goods. Besides, whatever happened to inner beauty shining through for all the world to see? We’re not shallow people.”

“Inner beauty doesn’t catch your eye from across the room,” she says. “Your ass in those pants does, though.”

“I don’t need to attract attention. As a matter of fact, the less attention I, an underage patron in a bar, can attract, the better.”

“It’s already a little late for that,” she says, sounding amused. “Someone can’t keep their eyes off you.”

“Who?” I ask, looking around. Dom glances back at me and smiles, then continues his conversation with Vince. My heart does a weird little flip in my chest.

“God,” Kori says. “How can someone so smart be so completely stupid?”

“It’s just a phase,” I say. This is where I’ve decided I’m at now. I tried to love him, and it didn’t work. I tried ignoring him, and it didn’t work. I tried blocking my feelings, and it didn’t work. I tried accepting them and moving on, and it didn’t work. Now, being the fickle twenty-year-old that I am and making flip choices at the drop of a hat, I’ve decided it’s just a combination of hero worship, brotherly affection, and dirty thoughts combining into adolescent fantasy. Which, in the end, is just a phase I’m going through.

And have been for four years, it reminds me. But sure! It’s just a phase.

Just a couple more months, I tell it. Then I’m gone, back to New Hampshire, where I will focus on my life and make sure I get done what needs to be done.

That’s cool. I’m sure the first step toward responsible adulthood is those jeans you’re wearing. At least now we know what it feels like to have a rescinded testicle.

Shut up, I tell my crazy.

“We can’t stay that late,” I remind Kori. “Dom and I have to start driving back to Tucson in the morning.”

“Live a little,” Kori says. “Think of tonight as the first night of the rest of your life. Or the last night of carefree youth before you become a boring college student again. Lord knows you’re not going to have any fun back in Seafare the

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