Tell Me It's Real (35 page)

“Can’t decide if I like it if you’re not going to give it to me,” I told him lightly, like I was talking to a skittish animal. He clutched at the envelope a bit more tightly, scrunching it up against his chest. He looked horrified that it had gotten wrinkled and quickly smoothed it back down again, worrying his bottom lip a bit. “Vince.”

He sighed and crawled into the bed next to me, sitting up against the headboard, his long body stretched out next to mine. It was all I could do to not reach out and rub my hands along his stomach.

He handed over the envelope, still without looking at me. He started gnawing on a fingernail, tapping his other hand nervously against his chest. I was curious as to the contents of the envelope that had gotten him so keyed up. I wondered if I’d open it to find something evil, like he was actually trying to blackmail me, and I would find photographs inside of myself in some kind of compromising position with hookers and a pile of cocaine (never mind the fact that I didn’t know any hookers and did not own a pile of cocaine). Then I realized I didn’t hold any kind of political office, but his
father
did, and then I wondered if it would be photographs of his
father
with hookers and cocaine and that Vince needed my help to bring down the corrupt Tucsonan government because Vince really worked for the FBI and then we’d have to go on the run and there’d be gunfights and explosions and sex on sun-drenched private beaches where we’d be in hiding for the rest of our lives….

I opened the envelope, half expecting the damning photos to fall out. Instead, there was a piece of paper and a photograph printed off the computer of the night sky with a specific star circled. I read through the letter, unable to speak because my breath was caught in my chest.

“I just thought that you’d like it,” Vince said, glancing over at me out of the corner of his eye. “You knew so much about the constellations that I thought it’d be cool if you had a star named after you, so I went online and found out you could do that! It was only twenty-five dollars and I don’t think you actually own the star, but it’s called Paul James Auster now, and it’s the only one in the whole universe with that name. I tried to get one as close to Orion’s Belt as I could. Well, I tried to see if I could get one of the stars in Orion’s Belt, but then I remembered those were already named and somebody probably already owned them. I tried to find online who did so I could see if they wanted to sell them, but even after looking for three hours, I couldn’t find it, so I just got you a different one instead. But if you don’t like it, I’ll just keep it for me and then I’ll have a star named Paul, and I think that’d be okay, too, so don’t—”

“Vince.” My voice was rough.

“Yeah?”

“You did this for me?”

He shrugged. “Guess so. You know, for your birthday. And because I think you’re awesome. So… happy birthday.”

“This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me,” I told him truthfully. “Thank you.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

And then he beamed at me, full force, dimples and all, and I gave a little yelp as I rolled over onto his chest, kissing the ever-fucking life out of him. He gave a startled grunt but opened up quickly enough, and there was nothing more glorious than his mouth on mine right at that moment, frantic and messy. That little light in my chest exploded into a shining array of fireworks across a night sky, blues and greens, reds and yellows, like the grand finale of some spectacular.

And later, as his breathing evened out and he fell asleep against me, his face buried in my neck, I realized it for what it was.

A star?
I thought.
Could there have been anything more ridiculously awesome than that? I mean, who does shit like that? Not to mention he’s apparently three-quarters of the way in love with me after seeing me trip while my junk flopped about. I don’t even want to know what has to happen for him to be all the way in love with me. Not that I want that. At all. In any way, shape, or form. Not even a little bit. Not even the smallest inkling. Not even if I’m already in love with him myself, and—

My eyes widened. No. No
fucking
way.

“Oh sweat
balls,” I whispered as Vince slept on.

And that’s when I made the decision to do a very stupid thing.

Love blows like that, sometimes.

Red Leader, Red Leader: The Whale Has Breached

“
A
RE
you sure you want to do this?” Sandy asked me the next day.

I sighed. “No. But I have to.”

“Actually, you don’t,” he reminded me. “And I still don’t get
why
you’re doing this.”

“Because he named a star after me and I’m pretty sure I love him and I hate everything about that because it makes me feel all sticky and sweet and gross, like I just snorted a line of Pixy Stix powder cut with rainbows and bunnies.” I sounded slightly hysterical, which, to be fair, I probably was. I hadn’t slept at all the night before, and when Vince had woken the next morning, a grin forming on his face as he saw me watching him, my heart started thudding like a bongo drum against my chest, and I was sure, absolutely
sure
, he’d be able to see every single one of my thoughts on my face and he’d
know
.

I had almost convinced myself not to follow through with my plan until after breakfast when he said he wanted to go into work for a couple of hours to catch up so when he returned on Monday, he wouldn’t be buried under e-mails and paperwork. I’d cursed him mentally, only because he’d given me the perfect opportunity to do what I didn’t want to do. I even went so far as to offer to drive him to work, but he’d waved me off, saying he would call me when he was done and would come over.

So I immediately called Sandy when I got home, babbling about how I was in love, constellations, and how I was pretty sure I was about to lie my way into a hospital so that I could go meet his mother behind his back, just so I could tell her how epically amazing her son was. Sandy immediately dropped whatever (or whoever) he was doing and picked me up, stopping to get a garish bouquet of flowers on the way as part of our cover. I’d almost convinced myself that there was a point to doing this, but it still felt a bit off.

“So you gonna to tell me why?” Sandy asked again, looking back at the hospital entrance.

I looked at myself in the rearview mirror, wondering if I should have worn a mustache as part of my disguise. As it was, I was wearing a newsboy cap, mirrored sunglasses that took up half my face, and the collar of my coat was flipped up around my neck. Either it was the greatest disguise in the history of mankind or the police would be called as soon as we walked in the hospital, given how I looked like I was probably going to be doing something lewd in public.

“Because,” I said to Sandy. “I don’t want the moment to go by where I’ll never get to say a thing to her. She needs to hear from someone how badass her son is before she goes. And I think he’s the most badass out of everyone, so why shouldn’t it be me?”

Sandy snorted. “I think this will be the moment we’ll look back on in the future as the time that Paul went batshit insane for love.”

“Gross,” I moaned. “Do not use that word around me.”

“Batshit?”

“No. The other word. But where do you think that term came from? Did someone eat batshit once and go nuts?”

“Insane?”

“No, but that’s kind of how I feel right now. The other word.”

“Love?”

I groaned again. “I think I’m going to be sick. Clichéd emotional vomiting is definitely in my future.”

“It’s like your parents all over again.”

“There’s got to be something wrong with the way children are raised in my family,” I said, shaking my head. “How can shit like this keep happening?”

“What about Nana Gigi?”

“Well, to hear it
her
way, she fell in love seven times and she has seven ex-husbands.”

Sandy looked wistful. “That lady knows how to live. I hope when I’m her age, I’ll still be as vivacious as always and talk about
my
seven ex-husbands.”

“To have seven ex-husbands, you first need to have one,” I reminded him.

He dismissed me with a wave of his hand. “Trust me, no one can handle me
and
Helena.”

I thought about Darren and the way he’d been watching Helena perform, but I pushed it away. Other things to focus on now. If this didn’t blow up in my face like I certainly expected it to, I’d make sure that Helena knew the Homo Jock King wanted to lick her ball sac. Or whatever Darren wanted to do. “Okay, so let’s go over the plan again.”

He looked baffled. “There was a
plan
? First I’m hearing about it. I distinctly remember you shrieking into your phone, telling me I needed to get my ass over to your house because you’d made a big mistake and wanted to marry Vince and have his babies forever and ever, but before you could give him your soul, you needed my help in breaking into the hospital to see the dying first lady of Tucson to receive her blessing so that you could live the rest of your life with your future husband and what will most likely be an ethnically diverse rainbow of children from such far-flung countries as Sudan and Iceland.”

I gaped at him in horror. “I never said
anything
like that!”

“Semantics. And you should really flip down the collar to your coat. It’s not 1987, and even if it
was
, you’d still look ridiculous. No one is going to recognize you by your neck. And where did you get those sunglasses? They look like a pair of mine that I lost under a suspicious set of circumstances last year and, at the time, you said you had no idea where they went.”

“Yeah, I stole them,” I admitted, not feeling bad in the slightest. “I didn’t have the heart to tell you that when you wore them, it looked like you were trying to do a really awful impression of Tom Cruise from
Top Gun.
”

“Gayest movie ever,” Sandy declared rightfully. “Anytime you do any kind of slow-motion scene involving men playing volleyball almost naked automatically puts your film in the pantheon of homoeroticism. And poor Val Kilmer. What happened to him? He used to be so attractive! Now he looks like a live-action version of Gollum.”

“He aged, I guess,” I said, putting down my collar because it was not 1987.

“Yeah, but his version of aging was like he got fast-forwarded sixty years. If that ever happens to me, I expect you to tell me and then drive me home after I get extensive plastic surgery.”

“Ew,” I muttered. “You’re not that vapid. For the most part.”

“Neither was Val Kilmer, and look what happened to him.”

We offered a moment of silence for Val Kilmer because Sandy had a good point.

“So what is the plan?” Sandy demanded. “And the flowers must be part of it. I didn’t spend thirty-five bucks on flowers not to have them in our diabolical scheme.”

“They’re very pretty,” I assured him.

“Thank you. The guy at the flower shop called it a ‘summer bouquet’. He was adorable. I almost asked him what kind of bouquet he’d recommend if I wanted to ask a guy selling flowers what it would take for me to sit on his face, but somehow, I was able to resist the urge. This seemed to be more important.”

I rolled my eyes. “I thank you that you were able to hold yourself back from sitting on the flower guy’s face. I know it must have been so hard for you.”

“No, but it
could
have been hard.”

“Puns? Really? That’s what you’ve settled for? I don’t think the flower guy would’ve gone for that.”

“Oh, so you’ve been in love for twelve hours, and now you’re suddenly the expert?”

“Don’t use that word!”

“Love, love, Paul’s in love!”

“Shut your face, you damaged queen!”

He stuck his tongue out at me. “Make me, lover boy. You better let me perform at the wedding. If you don’t, our friendship is over.”

 I was hurt. “Of
course
you would perform at the wedding. Who else would I get—Oh, for
fuck’s
sake! I’m not getting fucking married! You tricked me, you scandalous bitch!”

He smirked evilly at me. “I guess we know what
you’re
thinking about.”

“Can we talk about this later?”

“You bet your sweet ass we will. I see it more of a fall wedding, with leaves and centerpieces shaped like autumn squash—”

“Sandy!”

“Paul!”

“Focus! How are we going to get in?”

“Okay, okay. Let me think.” He frowned and tapped a finger to the side of his head. “So, we don’t know what room she’s in, only that she’s in hospice care. And since you won’t go the easy route and just
ask
Vince, we need to find her first. We’ll have to ask someone if they know where she’s at.”

“Why would they tell us? Isn’t it supposed to be secret? They won’t let us in to see the First Lady of Tucson if we just ask.”

“Two things: one, I don’t know if ‘First Lady of Tucson’ is a real thing. I just said that because it almost makes her sound like a princess, and that makes me happy because it makes me think that when you get married to Vince, it will almost be like a royal wedding since he would be the son of a princess.”

“And the second thing?” I asked warily.

“Hmmm?”

“The second thing? You said there were two things.”

“I did? Oh. Sorry. I forgot. I got distracted by the idea of a royal wedding. How dashing would Vince be in a uniform?”

“So dashing,” I said dreamily. After a moment, I shook my head, clearing my brain of images of Vince in a blue uniform with a sword and scabbard attached to his hip. “We’re off track again.”

“It was your fault that time,” he said. “Anyway, so since we have to incorporate the flowers somehow—”

“We don’t
have
to incorporate the flowers at
all
—”

“You shut your face! We
do
and we
will
. So, since we
will
be using the flowers, and that is
nonnegotiable
, we can say that we are there to deliver the flowers to the First Lady.”