“Because it’s the truth. Everything you do, you do for yourself. The rest of us are merely players in the all-consuming story that is your life. But I’m done being in your story, Max. It’s about time I started starring in my own.” With that, I pushed his arm out of my way and walked around to the driver’s side. Just as I was about to get into my car, I hazarded a look at him. He had backed away from my car, his head bowed, his hands fisted in his pockets. “Goodbye, Max.”
I jumped in my car, turned the ignition, and sped away from his house. And even though I was determined not to look back, that was one battle I was never going to win. My eyes darted up to my rearview mirror before his house was out of sight. And there he was, still standing in his driveway just as I had left him.
And I realized why I needed this clean break from him. He was too busy standing still, while I was desperate to move on.
Chapter 20: Max
I reached up to adjust my tie one last time before entering the reception. A few more hours and I can get out of this thing, I thought. I liked being in a suit about as much as my dog liked it when I’d get drunk and put him in one of my old hockey jerseys. As I strolled toward the open bar, I took in my surroundings. The ballroom was expansive with floor to ceiling arched windows along one wall. And the decor matched the feel of the historic hotel: deep gold striped wallpaper wrapped around the room, and dark wood trim accented each doorway. On the round tables sat centerpieces of red and white roses, and tasteful white Christmas lights created a soft glow in the otherwise dim room. “Who the hell has a wedding on New Year’s Eve, anyway? That dumbass ruined an awesome holiday for the rest of his life by agreeing to make it his anniversary.”
“No shit,” Brian laughed, before turning away for a moment to order two beers for us. “But Greg’s been a dumbass since elementary school, and Yasmine has him completely *-whipped." Brian paused to take a drink. "At least the worst part’s behind us though. I hate ceremonies. And the fact that it was a Catholic one didn’t help. They’re so fuckin’ long, and since I’m Jewish, I have no idea what the fuck’s even happening.”
“Well, I’m Catholic,” I said, “and I didn’t know what the fuck was happening either, so don’t feel too bad. Of course that could've been because I was paying more attention to the bridal party than to anything the priest was saying. I mean, did you see the tits on the maid of honor?"
“Did I see the tits on the maid of honor?” Brian raised an eyebrow in disbelief and stretched his arms out confidently as he leaned against the dark wooden bar. “Come on, Samson. This is me you’re talkin’ to. That’s why I love winter weddings: cold air and low cut dresses. It’s like a Christmas miracle in my pants.” A devious smile came across his face, and I braced myself for what might come out of his mouth next. I knew that look well. “Hey, you think if I tell her I still breastfeed she’ll let me suck on those fuckin’ things?”
Somehow Brian always managed to cross the line I didn’t even know existed until he sprinted over it. “That’s sick. Even for you.” But I couldn’t help but laugh.
“What?” he shrugged. “You act like I’m the only one who says shit like that. Remember that time you asked Trevor’s older sister if you could feel her satin pajama bottoms to see how soft they were?”
I smiled at the memory. My first pick-up line. “Yeah, I fuckin’ remember. Because she let me do it. That was the highlight of my seventh grade year.”
“Well, tonight we’re gonna relive those days, my friend. Good call on the no date thing, by the way. It’s way easier to pick up chicks if you don’t bring one with you.”
“Can’t argue with sound logic,” I said. Even if I’d wanted to bring a date when I’d mailed in the response card over a month ago, I wouldn’t have known who to take, so I’d opted to pass on the “plus one.” My first instinct would have been to ask Lily—as friends, of course—but now I was definitely thankful I’d gone solo. Fuck. Come to think of it, I’ve “gone solo” a lot lately. “I definitely need to bag someone. I haven't gotten my dick sucked in over a month, and it’s killing me,” I said. “The only action I’ve gotten in a while is from Jill.”
“Jill? Who’s Jill?” Brian asked intrigued.
“You know Jill,” I said, holding up my left fist. “J.” I raised my index finger and stuck out my thumb to form the shape of the letter J. “I, L, L,” I added as I raised my three other fingers one by one.
Brian nearly spit his beer out as the meaning of my joke sunk in. “That’s good. Never heard that one before.” Then I could practically see the light bulb go on over Brian’s head. “You’re right handed though. What the hell are you doing that with your left hand for?”
I shook my head and let out a subtle laugh. “I don’t know. I do all the shit I’m not supposed to do with my left hand: drink, smoke, jerk off . . . the list is endless.”
“Interesting,” Brian replied. “I didn’t know you still smoked.”
I rolled my eyes. “I don’t, asshole.”