“I’m not gonna farl off mya bar shtool,” I grunt.
She laughs. “You realize you already did, right?”
Panic sets in. “What?”
“Yeah, it was, um…” She leans in and crooks her finger. “Right after you pissed your pants and started yelling about being the King of the World. Tears followed because, you know, Leo’s passing and all.”
“LEONARDO DI CAPRIO DIED!” I wail. “Son of a bitch!” I jump to my very unsteady feet. Huh, did I untie my shoes? Did they untie themselves? I laugh because, for some reason, it’s funny, but then I remember Leo. “Why didn’t he just hold on, Ivy? Why?”
Ivy’s eyes are wide with amusement. “Why indeed?”
“And he couldn’t have just—” Am I crying? No, it’s the dust again, all the dust; my eyes do feel blurry. “It’s almost like I’m on that very ship.” I nod. “Sail away, sail away, sail away…” I can’t stop singing Enya; it just bursts past my lips without my permission as I sway in front of the table. I am seriously wasted, and I’m singing to Ivy.
“You know—” I point at the three of her. “When he’s frozen there, I legit thought he would make it.” I shake my head. “We will not forget your sacrifice! We will not go quietly into the night!” I shout. “Because today is our Independence Day!”
Ivy holds her stomach and laughs so hard that I’m convinced I just nailed happy hour. I mean, she’s happy, I’m happy.
Fuck, Leo’s still dead, but we did win against the aliens. “USA, USA, USA!”
“Alllllright big guy.” Ivy grabs my hand and then wraps an arm around me. “While I do enjoy you quoting random movies and somehow becoming more charming than usual, people are gonna start complaining, so let’s go back to the apartments and sleep this off.”
“I’ll sleep you off,” I snap.
“Good threat.” She pats me on the chest. “Very good threat.”
“It’s a promishhh…” I’m suddenly exhausted. “Hey, do you think we can go to Leo’s funeral? Or light a candle?”
Ivy leads me out of the restaurant. “Yeah, big guy, let’s do that right after we thank Bill Pullman for his epic speech.”
“Fucking love Bill Pullman,” I say. “He’s an American treasure, and nobody can tell me differently. He’s like Keanu, KEANUUUUUUU!”
She claps a hand over my mouth as we leave the bar, and I can barely see when we get into a waiting car.
Cool trick.
We just had a black car waiting.
Oh yeah, because we won.
What did we win again?
My head lolls to the side as the lights pass by in a blur; the last thing I remember is looking up at Ivy and saying, “Bet Keanu can’t do this.”
Chapter Ten
Ivy
I’ve never seen him so drunk in my entire life. It’s like he was just blindly taking tequila like it was water, and then to make matters worse, I had to help him into his apartment, which didn’t really work out as planned since he couldn’t find his damn key fob.
So here we are.
Him snoring on the couch in my apartment.
Me lying in my bed, wishing I could put a pillow over his head just so he stops snoring and a lot of moaning from his end. And not the good moaning, the whole, I’m gonna wake up soon and probably puke all over the carpet moaning.
I finally fall asleep around two in the morning, only to wake up an hour later to the sound of a toilet flushing and more moans.
“Sleeeep!” I yell.
“So sorry, was busy puking out my brains.” Comes right back. “Hey, the couch is super uncomfortable. Can I just crash with you?”
“You have an apartment!” I remind him.
“Too much energy.” And then my door’s getting opened, and Jack’s stumbling into my room and throwing himself onto the king-sized bed. “Hold me. I’m sad.”
“No!” I almost laugh. “You’re not sad; you’re just still drunk!”
“Whose idea was the shots?” he grumbles into his pillow. “Demon woman.”
I jerk the blankets away from him. “Clearly the drunk person’s.”
“I hate drunk persons.” He turns on his side. “I puked once, brushed my teeth, wait, was that your toothbrush—”
“Are you kidding right now?”
He laughs. “There was a spare in the bathroom, most likely from Dustin stockpiling these apartments and getting worried about being fired.”
“I’m sure that’s a daily concern where Max is concerned.” I take a deep breath and exhale. “Now, I need sleep. Which means if you’re going to just lay there breathing heavy, at least make yourself useful and attempt to even out the mattress.”
“I’m sorry, what?”
“You know.” I toss on my side, “Even out the mattress, where equal parties do their part in making sure that nobody just rolls into the middle.”
“The hell kind of mattresses have you been sleeping on?”
Single ones.
Ones without other people.
I stay silent. “Just… stop talking.”
“No, I’m genuinely concerned that you think this is a thing.”