Why We Fight (At First Sight 4)

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I looked away from the speaker we’d

brought to talk to the kids. His name was Will, a trans man who worked with the Southern Arizona Gender Alliance. He was winding down on his presentation and was taking questions from people when I pulled out my phone to look at it. It was a text from Charlie.

We need to talk.

I frowned. What the hell was going on now? What’s up? Are you okay?

I gnawed on my lip while waiting for a reply. My mind was racing with a billion different things, running a spectrum from amazing to terrible. Charlie was getting married! He lost his leg in a fight with a pirate! Nana had gotten arrested for drug trafficking!

I really hated my brain sometimes. I blamed Paul and Sandy. And Ty too.

My phone buzzed again. Nothing bad. I’ll come by the house tonight. That okay?

I couldn’t see why not. Paul and Vince were coming over to watch bad horror movies with us and drink fruity cocktails. Darren said he wasn’t coming because he had better things to do, but he was a liar and a fat mouth, and I expected him to be there too. Sandy was very persuasive.

Sure. All of your kids will be there. That okay?

Yeah. Makes thing easier. I’ll text when I’m on my way.

Kk.

“Everything okay?” I heard Jeremy whisper.

I looked over. We were standing in the back of the main room while the speaker gave his presentation. “Yeah, sorry,” I whispered back. “Charlie needed to ask me something.”

Jeremy nodded before looking back toward the group in front of us.

It was probably nothing. Everything would be fine.

“WHAT IF he’s dying?” Sandy wailed. He’d been going on for at least ten minutes, his cries of anguish briefly cut off as he sipped a cocktail with a bright umbrella sticking out of it. We were sitting in the living room in our pajamas. Paul and Vince were on one couch, Vince lying back with his legs in Paul’s lap. Wheels was at his feet, gnawing on a bone that was bigger than he was. Sandy and Darren were on the other couch. I’d told Darren when he arrived that I knew he was going to show, that he might as well stop acting like a little bitch who thought he was better than us. The Homo Jock King had given me a look that I was sure had slain many a twink, but since I’d seen him tackle Sandy and profess his love, I was immune to his glares.

I was sitting back against his legs on the floor. He’d tried to shove me off for at least thirty seconds but had eventually given up when I reminded him that I’d brought Vince and him their beers and that he needed to be nice to me. He bent forward and kissed the top of my head, much to Sandy’s delight.

“He’s not dying,” Paul said, rolling his eyes. “I’ve told you this before. Charlie and Nana are going to outlive us all and ascend to rule over mankind before destroying it in a wave of fire.” He frowned as he peered down at his own drink. “This is a lot stronger than I thought it would be. It’s also gross. What the hell is in this?”

“It’s jungle juice,” Sandy said. “I thought it would be fun. I may have made a mistake.”

“Jungle juice?” Paul said with a grimace. “We aren’t sixteen and raiding my parents’ liquor cabinet. Jesus Christ.”

“Ah, those were the days,” Sandy said, tilting his head back on the couch. “Remember that time we got caught by Nana and she threatened to tell your parents unless we allowed her to join us?”

“I try not to think about that,” Paul muttered. He nudged Wheels away when the dog decided Paul’s sock was better to chew on than the bone. “It led to the first time she told us the story about how she murdered a guy who was trying to mug her in St. Louis.”

“She didn’t actually murder anyone, did she?” Vince asked. “Because that’s sad, you know? What if she gets arrested and has to go on trial? I would testify on her behalf as a character witness.”

We all stared at him.

Paul sighed. “Vince discovered British crime procedurals on Netflix. It’s this whole… thing.”

“They call attorneys solicitors,” Vince said. “And they wear white wigs in court. It’s awesome. Did you know British cops don’t usually carry guns? And it’s always raining and everyone looks sad when they drink their tea.”

“I have other things I could be doing,” Darren grumbled.

“No, you don’t,” Sandy told him. “No one else likes you as much as we do.”

“Charlie said that it wasn’t bad,” I reminded them for the fifth time.

“Isn’t that what people say when it’s really bad?” Vince asked.