Petite Mensonges

Some late night bullshit because I can't sleep, and I fucked up my hands, and all I do is spit up bile.

Enjoy, fellow sinners.

Petite Mensonges

Stephen grabbed two beers from the fridge. “Why didn’t you text me back?” He heard Baz laugh from the couch.

“Look man, I was otherwise occupied.”

“You what?” Stephen was searching the top drawer for his bottle opener. 

“You wot, cunt?”

“Eeesh, sorry. I’m distracted.” The bottle opener continued to evade him. “This is a girl, right?” Stephen looked over the fridge door at his friend.

“The girl.” 

“Right.” Bottle opener retrieved.

On the couch, Baz took the beer and loosened his tie. “You don’t remember her name, do you?”

“I’m not the one who has to remember it.” Stephen sat down next to Baz and put his feet up on the coffee table.

“Hostile.” Baz sipped his beer.

“Untrue.”

“Only my own observation of your comment.”

“Subjective.”

“Err.”

Stephen undid his button-through and relaxed back into the couch. “So, this girl…”

“Is that a question?” Baz tucked one leg under the other.

Stephen turned the ring on his finger. “I don’t know. Is it serious? Maybe that’s what I’m asking.” 

Baz huffed out a small laugh. “I can feel you judging, bro.”

“All I’m saying is, I don’t know, it’s been what? A month?”

“Three weeks.”

Stephen turned the ring on his finger. “I’ve had things in my fridge longer than that.” He watched as Baz put his feet up on the table as well.

Baz pulled out his phone and started tapping. “Perhaps a cue to clean out your fridge.” 

“Working on it.”

“Hardly.”

“Texting her?”

Click click click. “Yeah. She’s downtown at Yellowstone Soda.”

Stephen felt a visceral reaction. “Lovely.”

“Want to go?”

“No. But you’ll make me.” Stephen supposed he had to meet The Girl. Plus, Baz was his best friend. He started doing his shirt back up.

Baz grabbed and pulled so hard that a button flew off. “You’re not wearing that.”

“Dude! It’s just my work shirt.”

“Exactly. You look like a bank manager from the nineties. Not to mention you smell like a council worker.”

“Oh, how kind…”

“Go take a shower.” Baz stood up and ushered him to the bathroom. He pulled Stephen’s shirt off his shoulders and pushed him to the glass door.

“The Soda isn’t even that fancy.”

Baz tongued his cheek. “Still no need to be beige.”

Stephen couldn’t help his smile. “Still no need to burn my confidence, motherfucker.”

~~~

The bathroom was filled with steam by the time he stepped out to see Baz in just a towel. Baz held up a black dress shirt on a hanger with a dark green tie.

Stephen couldn’t help his eyes travel, betraying him, while he grabbed a towel from the rack for himself. “What’s this then?”

Baz cocked his head. “You look good in this.”

“I look good in everything.”

Baz might have smiled. “Hurry up or go kick rocks.” He pushed past Stephen to the shower.

~~~

Yellowstone Soda was not where Stephen wanted to be. The music was too loud. The drinks were overpriced. The floor felt sticky.

Stephen leaned close to Baz’s ear. “Is she still even here? It’s like…half eleven.”

Baz shooed him away. “Jesus dude, what are you? A hundred years old?”

Stephen took a breath and kept his mouth shut. He turned the ring on his finger as they snaked their way through the crowd; through the smoke; through the flashing lights. And there she was. 

Baz grinned at Stephen and pulled him close. 

“You remember Stephen?” Baz asked her. 

She smiled. “I have to go to the bathroom.” Her long blonde hair trailed after her.

Baz guided Stephen to an empty seat away from the mess of people. There wasn’t much room and so they sat close. “What do you want?” Baz asked as he flagged down a waiter.

“Whiskey, neat.”

“Two please.” Baz put a hand on Stephen’s knee. “I like her, okay? Try not to be so cold.”

Stephen nodded. He could smell the soap on Baz’s skin. “I have to hit the head. Save the seat?”

“Yeah.”

~~~

Stephen turned the ring on his finger and pushed open the restroom door. There she was, The Girl, snorting it right off the edge of the basin.

She looked up. “Oh.” Smiling. “You want some?”

Stephen shook his head and couldn’t help but notice the chain around her neck. She noticed him noticing. The ring hanging from the chain was quickly tucked away under her dress.

Stephen started to wash his hands in the basin next to her. “That’s what? Twenty grand on your neck?” 

She wiped at her nose and reapplied her lipstick. “You shouldn’t pay such close attention.”

“I’m not trying that hard.” Stephen dried his hands. Was it time to be brazen? “So…where is your husband tonight?” Yes, it was time.

She leant against the wall behind her. “My husband? He’s probably out in the woods somewhere.” Her laugh was like nails on a board. 

Stephen abandoned the restroom quick as a whip and wound his way back to Baz. He sat down.

Baz passed him a drink and raised a brow. “You’re white as a sheet, fool.”

Stephen scrubbed his mouth and took a breath. “She’s married.”

The music was too loud. Baz shook his head, confused. “What did you say?”

Stephen took the ring from his finger and threw it into the dark crowd. “I said that I love you.” 

Baz still couldn’t hear. He held a hand to his ear, in gesture.

Stephen moved in close. The kiss was like a tiny death.