The Same Place (The Lamb and the Lion #2) - Gregory Ashe Page 0,21
I can dress myself, and—”
“Ok, fine, a polo. And you’re determined to wear that pair of jeans?”
“I like these jeans. They were three dollars and fifty-seven cents, and I’ve had them for ten years, and they don’t even look like they’re wearing out.”
Jem buried his face in the hanging clothes and screamed.
“And they’ve got these nifty copper rivets.”
Dragging a polo off a hanger, Jem said, “Don’t say nifty.”
When Tean caught the polo, he held it up and made a face.
“Put it on,” Jem said. “No arguing.”
“It’s pink.”
“I said no arguing.”
“It’s too bright. I look flashy.”
“Well, if you weren’t so fucking cheap, we could buy you some clothes that you like and get you a pair of glasses that aren’t always falling off your face. And you could live in a way nicer apartment. With two bedrooms. And we could go out to eat more. And you could have furniture that you haven’t had since college.”
Tean stood there, still holding up the shirt, locked in place.
“Wow,” Jem said. “That was really shitty. I’m sorry.”
Scipio stumbled into Tean, and Tean petted the dog mechanically.
“Look, I didn’t sleep well last night.”
“In your new place.”
Jem just wiped his mouth.
“Will you get out of my room so I can change?” Tean said.
“Yeah. Right.”
In the front room, Jem dug through the duffel he had left there the night before. He found his Super Mario tee, black jeans, and a denim jacket, and he took it all into the bathroom and changed. When he came out of the bathroom, Tean was still in the bedroom, so Jem put his dirty clothes in the duffel and sat on the couch. Within about five seconds, Scipio had climbed up and stretched out across Jem’s lap: eighty pounds of Lab, rolling onto his back and kicking his legs like a puppy, giving Jem a what-are-you-waiting-for look. Jem scratched the dog’s belly.
When Tean came out of the bedroom, he was wearing the pink polo. Scipio thrashed around, threw himself off Jem’s lap, and charged toward his bowl. Once Tean had scooped out some kibble, he said, “Let’s go,” and stepped into the hall. He hadn’t looked at Jem once. Scipio on the other hand, stopped devouring his breakfast long enough to stare at Jem.
“Don’t you start,” Jem muttered as he headed out of the apartment.
Instead of heading for Tean’s DWR truck, Tean led Jem to a brown Mercedes parked in one of the visitor stalls. The car had to be thirty years old, minimum: it was boxy and small, and the upholstery looked shiny from wear. But the tags were current, and when Tean turned the key, it started right up.
“It’s my grandpa’s,” Tean said as he started toward Hannah’s house. “But he doesn’t drive anymore, so it mostly sits in my parents’ driveway.”
Jem ran a hand over the dash, which was slightly warped and cracking in places. “It’s kind of bitchin’ actually.”
“Great. I’ll tell him.”
“Come on, I said I was sorry. Don’t be mean to me all day.”
Tean just shook his head.
“Ok, you can be mean to me for one hour,” Jem said.
“I don’t want to be mean to you. Just stop talking for a while, please.”
As they drove past McDonald’s, Jem opened his mouth. Tean shot him a glare so quickly that Jem shut his mouth, but at the smell of frying hash browns, his stomach rumbled. Tean shot him another look. Jem put a hand over his stomach and tried to look contrite; he still wasn’t very good at that one.
“You can’t be quiet for five minutes?”
“It was my stomach! And it was McDonald’s. I can’t be held responsible. Listen, I’m going to up my deal: I will personally buy you breakfast, and you can be mean to me for one hour, and you can cut up my purple t-shirt with the old lady hats on it.”
The tires thrummed. “What?”
“It’s my favorite shirt. Well, one of my favorites.”
“I don’t want to be mean to you. And I don’t want to cut up your shirt. I just want to be angry at you and feel all my feelings and then be done with it, ok?”
Jem’s stomach grumbled again. “I’m not trying to rush you, but is there any chance you’ll finish feeling all your feelings before they stop serving—”
At the next intersection, Tean turned right so hard that Jem forgot what he was saying. They went around the block, and on the next pass, Tean turned into McDonald’s. At the drive-through, they ordered—well, Jem ordered, and he got doubles