Dylan nodded. “Me too. Even Crank. He’s a big shot, but he’s not so different from us really.”
“Except we don’t have paparazzi chasing us.”
“There is that,” he replied.
I looked at Dylan and grinned. “I haven’t said it yet, but thanks for introducing me to Carrie.”
He nodded. “You look like you two are getting serious.”
I snorted. Then I looked at him and said, “You remember all those times we razzed you about how much you talked about Alex? All the names we called you?”
“What,” he said. “You mean, like… *-whipped? Pudmaster? What else? Nothing else is coming to mind.”
I chuckled. “I take it all back. I get it now.”
“Oh shit, you guys are serious.”
I nodded. “Yeah. I’ve got it bad.”
Dylan got a grin on his face. “Well, don’t mess it up. Life’s too short.”
I tossed my cigarette to the ground and stamped it out under my shoe, then clapped my hand on his shoulder. “You’re right about that. Let’s head back in.”
And that’s when my phone rang. I looked down at it and muttered a curse. The caller ID said US ARMY. My heart started thumping wildly, and I answered it with a rude, “What?”
Major Smalls’s voice, calm, came over the phone. “The appropriate way for a Sergeant to answer the phone is not what, Sergeant Sherman.”
“Well, write me up then, Major. It’s New Years Eve and I’m out with my girl and her family. What do you want?”
Dylan stopped, giving me a concerned look. I waved him off.
“Just wanted to make sure we knew your whereabouts. I made it clear you were to keep in touch.”
I lit another cigarette, fiercely took a drag from it, then said, “You know, Carrie was right about that the other day. I don’t know where you get off treating me this way. I reported it, damn it!”
Major small sighed on the other end of the line. “Believe me, Sergeant. I do understand. You’re right, it’s New Years Eve, and I’d really like to get back to my family. So if you’ll just let me know where you’re going to be tonight, then I will leave you alone. Fair enough?”
“Fine,” I said, spitting out the word. “I’m going to be at Madison Square Garden for the Morbid Obesity concert. From there, I’m going to be with my girlfriend. At the Hilton next door. All right? Do you need the fucking room number, Major?”
Dylan stared as I spoke, his face drawn, unhappy.
“No thank you, Sergeant. We’ll be in touch. Happy New Year.”