“Two!”
“A bird in the hand is worth two in the bush,” Neil stated, his gaze on Sophia.
“One! Ha, you didn’t— Wait, what?” Mimi asked, looking at Neil, then Sophia. Simon and Ryan looked hopeful.
Silence.
“That’s right.” Sophia scowled, wincing when Simon and Ryan erupted into cheers.
“No way, no way! No fair, I had almost said one! I had almost said one!” Mimi cried, jumping across the room and landing on Ryan’s back, pummeling him with her fists. Zach burped again. Missy took her hair out of her ponytail, and everyone with a penis stopped to watch.
“That’s it,” Sophia snapped, and stormed into the kitchen.
“I’m calling time-out!” I yelled as I left the room to follow her.
“Time-out from what?” Zach asked, and I just shook my head.
Sophia was angrily taking things out of the fridge, then putting them back again. “I can’t believe he got that!”
“I can’t believe we didn’t. How embarrassing!” I answered, holding the fridge door open for her as a rotisserie chicken made its way out.
“No kidding! I mean, come on, how are we losing to these guys?” she asked, rifling through the condiment door and coming up with a bottle of Sriracha.
“We’re losing because we’re not concentrating. We need to get our heads in the game.” I watched as she put away a jar of pickles and grabbed a jug of milk.
“Pfft, maybe you’re not concentrating because you’re drooling over my b’ball player.” She smirked, removing a plastic container of leftover peas.
“I’m sure that’s it,” I remarked, trying to keep the incredulous out of my voice. Without question, Tall Zach was great looking, but what a drip.
“What am I looking for?” she asked, holding a container of sour cream in one hand and a cucumber in the other.
“You got me,” I answered, spying Neil coming around the corner. “But thanks for cleaning out the fridge.”
As Sophia stuck her head back in, Neil came into the kitchen.
“Funny how I knew exactly what you were trying to draw, huh, Soph?” he started, and she froze. I knew she froze because the sour cream dropped to the floor. I sidestepped away as she shut the door, pointing her cucumber at him.
“Don’t give me you knew exactly what I was trying to draw. You must have seen the card.”
“How could I have seen the card? You were holding it the entire time.”
“Well, maybe you turned away from Titty McBoobs over there to look.”
“Oh please, you think that—”
I walked away just as Simon came around the corner, and I quickly turned him back from where he came.
“I wouldn’t go in there right now. Sophia’s got a cucumber and she knows how to use it.”
He snorted.
“Wait, that came out wrong. They’re in there talking,” I said, tugging him along.
We both winced as their voices rose.
“Well, they’re talking loudly—but they’re talking.” I sighed.
? ? ?
In the end, Game Night totally sucked. Mimi almost passed out, still grumbling about being cheated out of SpongeBob HandBird. Ryan spent the rest of the night memorizing the Pictionary rulebook for next time, while Simon and I cleaned sour cream off the kitchen floor and picked cucumber seeds out from between the tiles.
“She squeezed the seeds right out, with her hand! It wasn’t even peeled!” he kept saying, amazed and more than a little scared.
And Frick and Frack? Made out with Tall and Tits. Actually made out with their dates in front of each other. I’ve never seen anything like it. I wanted to look away, I felt like I should look away, but I couldn’t. Simon and I stood there, covered in seeds, watching the make-out contest. Sophia was pushed up against the wall, so then Tits got pushed up against a wall. Neil got an impromptu lap dance; so did Tall.
“It’s like we’re at some kind of swingers’ party,” Simon whispered when a shoe flew by, kicked off by a Playboy bunny.
“Or WrestleMania,” I whispered back when another shoe flew the other way. Don’t think Sophia didn’t notice Shoeless Tits.
When the groaning finally drowned out Mimi’s muttering, it was time to stick a fork in the entire evening. And then never speak of that fork again.
Glaring at each other, Neil and Sophia walked out together, hot dates in tow. Ryan carried Mimi out to the hillevator, telling us he’d come back the next day to pick up their things. “I’ve got to get her home before she pukes,” he said, shaking his head. “No more drink stations.”
As they rode up the hill, I could hear snippets floating back from Neil and Sophia, arguing all the way to the cars.
We headed back inside, looking at the drawing board. Which was now decorated with phallic imagery, courtesy of Tall Zach.
Simon began, “I love our friends, but—”
“How the hell are they our friends?” I finished, and he nodded.