9.11 - 34. Chapter 34

September 4, 2001

“Good morning,” I said to Grand as I walked into the kitchen. I was lying, and he could tell.

“Good morning,” he responded. “You seem a bit apprehensive.”

I shrugged. “John told me that something was up, so I’m a little nervous.”

“Indeed?” he asked. “You said things were alright at school.”

“People have pretty much settled down, unless they have to shake my hand or something, then they act like I have the plague,” I said, making it seem like it bothered me less than it did. The outright snickering had stopped, but there was an undercurrent there, where people looked at me strangely. It was just enough to make me uncomfortable, but not enough to make me hate anyone. Except for maybe Ferris, Marie, and Noah.

“But you suspect trouble today?”

“It’s weird. John said he doesn’t know what’s going on, but something is up, because Marie was really pissed off last night. When she’s pissed off, I’ve learned it’s usually bad news for me,” I said.

“I had a conversation with Claire about your situation,” he told me. Even he seemed nervous about that. I wondered if that was the reason Marie was on the warpath again. I could have gotten mad at him, but I’d told him he could talk to her, so I didn’t.

“She doesn’t hate me?” I asked, kind of joking, kind of not.

He shook his head. “She was very concerned, but confused about what to do, and how to handle things.”

“I think the best thing to do is leave things alone, and see how they pan out,” I told him.

“Have the notes on your locker ceased to appear?”

“Yeah,” I said. “The last one was on Thursday. It was just more of the same.”

“Perhaps things will get back to normal now,” he said, even though neither one of us believed it. “How has Marie behaved toward you?”

“We pretty much ignore each other,” I said. That was true, to a point. Last year, we’d all hung out in the same group. When Marie had gotten back to school on Monday, she’d formed a cadre around her with Noah, Alyssa, Ferris, and that new chick, Phoebe. They’d been on the fringes of the group I hung around with, but not really in it. If anything, that just accentuated why Marie was so pissed at me, since most of our friends were hanging with me, and not her.

“And what about John?”

“John hangs with me and my friends,” I said. John being with me helped keep me popular, because even though he was a freshman, he was über-popular. So people who wanted to be around me for reasons like Erik mentioned, because my family was so rich and powerful, would be more likely to hang with the two of us than with Marie. “When is Stef coming home?” I asked, changing the subject. He’d been gone for almost a week now.

“He is enjoying himself in Malibu,” Grand said, as if he were fine with that.

“I’m sorry,” I told him meaningfully. “I didn’t mean for you to get roped into all of this, and for it to damage your relationship with Stef.”

“It is not your fault,” he said. “He is wrong, he knows he is wrong, but he does not want to admit he is wrong. So he is spending time with your father, so they can both convince themselves they are justified in being idiots.” There was much to digest in that, not the least of which was his anger, which managed to seep through his shields.

“Maybe they should hang out with Marie,” I joked, since she had the same issue. “You know who I really feel sorry for?”

“Whom?” he asked.

“Robbie. He has to put up with them at close range.”

I expected him to laugh, but he didn’t. “He has largely avoided both of them. I understand he is working very late these days.”

“So even Dad and Robbie are fighting,” I noted. Everyone had fucked up relationships, and it was all my fault. “Maybe I should avoid the wedding next week,” I said, referring to my mother’s commitment ceremony to Hank.

“I think it is unreasonable for you to blame yourself when other people do not get along,” he said logically. “And you are most definitely not getting off the hook next week; else I would have no one to talk to at the ceremony.”

“I’ll be your date,” I said, smiling at him. “I have to go.”

“Keep me apprised as to how your day progresses,” he said.

“You keep in touch too,” I said, putting his terms in normal language. I went out to the car and found Pedro waiting, as usual.

“We picking up John?” he asked.

“Not today,” I told him. “So let’s take something more fun. You’ll have to bring something bigger to pick me up though, just in case.” I made him drive me to school in the Ferrari, because it was fun to show up in such a hot car, and because I thought that if I used it like this, it may just piss my father off.

Pedro pulled up and I got out, taking my time, just to remind everyone that they should be my friend because I was so fucking rich, I thought to myself cynically. “Nice car,” Blaine Ledington said as he fell in step, walking next to me.

“It’s sweet,” I agreed. “Too bad I don’t have my license.”

“You’d probably wrap it around a tree,” he joked, in his typical asshole way.

“Probably,” I agreed, not wanting to argue with him. I walked to my locker and was really surprised to see a bunch of people crowded around it.

“What the fuck?” he asked.

“Got me,” I said. “Excuse me!” I said loudly, forcing people to let me through. The crowd parted as if I were Moses, letting me through to my locker, which had something taped on it. I felt my stomach churn with dread at what this latest nightmare would be, but this time it wasn’t a picture, it was a note of sorts, and it was laminated and firmly taped up there. This could only have been done with the approval of the administration.

I expected it to be typed, but it wasn’t. It was handwritten, by someone with nice penmanship, much better than my chicken-scratch.

Will,

I’m sorry I put those pictures up on your locker and spread that rumor about you having HPV. It was wrong of me to make something like that up, and to do that to you.

Ferris.

I read it, and then read it again, keeping my face impassive. I thought about ripping it down, but then I changed my mind. This was Ferris’ walk of shame, and I wasn’t going to do anything to make it easier for him. Not wanting to show any reaction, I opened my locker, got the stuff I needed for class, closed it and locked it, then walked back through the crowd. “So you’re not oozing warts?” Jackie asked me, kind of flirting.

“Clean as a whistle, baby,” I said to her with a smile. I put my arm around her, making her chuckle, and we walked to class.

“I heard they busted Ferris putting those pictures up, and told him that he either posted that apology, or leave,” she said.

“Serves him right, the little douche,” I said, making sure not to sound too bitter.

“Unless he was just doing what someone else was telling him to do,” she said dubiously.

“Marie never apologizes for anything,” I said, getting what she was talking about. “That’s her rule.”

“Don’t I know it,” Jackie said. It had been weird before Ferris left his note, but it was even weirder now, only in a different way. It wasn’t until my break that I ran into John and I was able to talk to him about it.

“Dude, your locker is the talk of the school,” he said.

“Rumor has it Ferris had to do it or he’d get kicked out,” I said.

“Did you leave the note up there?” John asked.

“Fuck yeah. It’s staying up there for a while, to remind everyone what a douche he is,” I said callously, making John chuckle. I saw Noah walking straight toward me, but I looked through him as if he didn’t exist. I hadn’t spoken a single word to him since school started. Today was no different, only he’d gotten too close to me, and our shoulders slammed into each other as we passed.

“Watch where you’re going,” he said.

I pivoted around, looked at him, and shoved him backward right into a bank of lockers. The noise of him slamming into them attracted a bunch of attention. “You watch where you’re going, asshole!” I spat. John grabbed my arm and dragged me away, which had the effect of making me look like a badass.

“Dude, be careful,” John said. “You don’t want to get suspended.”

“You’re right. I’ll wait until Friday and kick his ass, and then they can suspend me for the three days I’m in New York,” I joked. He laughed. I made it through my other classes with nothing eventful happening, other than people talking about the note on my locker. Lunch was pretty much normal, where I was sitting around with my friends, just bullshitting, until Ferris, Marie, and Noah walked up.

“Did you get my note?” Ferris asked. It was probably not possible for him to ask that in a bitchier tone.

“I saw it on my locker,” I said. “Props to you for having the decency to apologize when you fuck up.” I turned and stared straight at Marie as I said that. John was next to me, and he started chuckling, which just made her look like a bigger idiot. Ferris and Marie gave me a snarky look, and made to move off, when Noah decided to open his big mouth.

“Decided that you couldn’t make the team?” he taunted, referring to water polo.

“You and I both know that I could have been on the team, easy. The only reason I didn’t do it is because you’re such a pathetic fucking player, I knew I’d spend all my time being pissed off at you,” I said to him. A couple of the guys who played chuckled, which just validated what I said. “Dude, you totally suck.”

He glared at me, and I was wondering if he was going to come at me, but their little trio decided to storm off, all pissed off. John just shook his head. “Dude, they are the biggest idiots. It’s fucking embarrassing.”

“Is that really why you decided not to play?” Cam asked me. Whenever he talked to me, he’d start out really confidently, but as his sentence went on, he’d get shyer, and end up looking down. He was really cute. John turned away to mack on this smoking hot blonde named Kerry he’d been chasing, so that left me to pretty much talk to Cam, just the two of us.

“Yeah,” I said. “What’s more important? Sports or your friends?”

“You guys don’t seem like you’re friends,” he said.

“Guess we’re not,” I said sadly. I was glad it was just he and I talking, since I’d kind of let my shields down a bit.

“I think it would rock if you played on the team,” he said. He played on the JV team, so that made his statement that much cuter.

“I’ll think about it,” I told him. He looked happy about that, and it was starting to dawn on me, to work its way through my fuddled mind, that he had a crush on me. “You should come over and hang out with me sometime after school.”

“Really?” he asked.

“Yeah. I’m going to be in New York this weekend, and part of next week, but maybe we can do something when I get back, if you’re up for it.”

“That sounds great,” he said.

“You’re just being nice to me now that you found out I’m not infested with warts,” I said, teasing him.

“That didn’t matter to me,” he said, and actually looked me in the eyes for his whole sentence, showing me he was sincere.

“Thanks,” I said.

“Dude, I’m riding home with you today,” John said, breaking into our conversation.

“Sounds good,” I agreed. I forced my mind back into my classes and made it through another day. I walked out of school and found Pedro waiting for me. “Hey,” I said. “We’re taking John with us.”

“No problem,” he said. “You can wait inside the car if you want, and I’ll keep an eye out for him.”

“Thanks,” I said. I’d just relaxed into the soft leather seats when my cell phone rang. I was surprised to see that it was Stef calling me. “Hello,” I said, in a relatively friendly way. “When are you coming home?”

“Hello,” he responded. “I am thinking of coming back this evening.” His tone was guarded.

“It will be good to see you,” I said. I was determined to do my best to be positive with him, if only for Grand’s sake.

“I am wondering if it would be possible for us to have a conversation about some of these issues and concerns your father raised at dinner?” he asked.

“By ‘us’, do you mean you and me?”

“It would probably be helpful if your father was there as well,” he said.

“If you want to talk to me, I’m open to that. I’m not talking to my father until he’s met my minimum conditions.”

“The ones you explained to Robbie?” Stef asked. “You require an apology, a sincere one.”

“I do,” I said. “And based on the fact that’s not likely to happen, I think that it’s probably going to be you and me having a conversation.”

“One never knows,” he said mysteriously.

“If you want to talk to me about rescinding my emancipation, it’s going to be a very bad conversation,” I said. “I am really disappointed with you, and how you’ve treated me with this thing, and how you’ve acted over the past week. I’ll be honest with you. I’ve pretty much written my father off. I don’t see he and I having a relationship anymore, I really don’t. I don’t want you and me to end up like that.”

“It is difficult for me to imagine that you can just write people you love off like that,” he said, with a relatively unpleasant tone.

“If the people that I love are obnoxious, I think I have that right. Dad is being obnoxious. And if you go down this road with him, so are you. So that’s where we are.” He said nothing. “I would like you to answer one question.”

“What?”

“What’s your end game here?”

“What do you mean?” he asked.

“What do you hope to accomplish, you and Dad, with all this crap you’re doing to me?” He said nothing. “I will not live with him, and I will not submit to having him, or you, as a guardian.”

“You find me objectionable as well?”

“I didn’t before, but I do now. All you’ve done is show me you’re his puppet,” I said, and I was losing it, so I stopped abruptly. “I’m too pissed off to talk about this with you. I’d just say things that make us both mad.”

“I have a mind of my own,” he insisted.

“Then use it!” I snapped. I paused for a minute to get my emotions under control, and to let him do the same thing. “What’s the end game?”

“The end game is to persuade you to act more responsibly, especially regarding sexual activity and drinking,” he said.

“You two are in absolutely no position to talk about either one of those things, as we’ve already discussed,” I said. “I’m not even going to listen to that kind of hypocrisy. No way.”

“I see,” he said.

“Do you really think this is going to have any impact on me at all, other than to make me want to drink more, or fuck everyone?” I asked. “Do you really think you guys are going to be able to control what I do with my body?”

“We are hoping you will make those choices on your own.”

“If you two will leave me the fuck alone, I just might, but that’s not what this is about. This is about Dad being a control freak, and there’s no way he’s going to control me. No way. If I have to vanish until I’m eighteen, he’s not going to control me.”

“You would run away again?” he asked. “And that is a mature solution?”

“If I’m backed into a corner, with no other way out, I’d call it a strategic retreat. But you guys can sit there in Malibu and figure out how this is going to work out, and have it all laid out, only it’s not happening. Things are the way they are, and they’re not changing.”

“Change is the only constant in the universe,” he said philosophically.

“Alright, well since you’re being all profound; tell me how your brilliant strategies have created such a wonderful environment there in Malibu. Tell me how you’re all one big happy, loving family. Tell me that you two, in your ultimate wisdom, have taken control of everyone’s lives and now they’re perfect,” I said, being nastier with Stef than I’d ever been.

“I do not appreciate your sarcasm,” he said icily.

“Oh, so it’s not true?” I asked. “You mean Darius didn’t move into the dorms as soon as he could to get away from you guys? You mean JJ isn’t spending every waking hour at the rink to avoid you and Dad, and that he doesn’t come home only when you’re not there? You mean that Robbie hasn’t all but moved out to avoid you two? You mean I have that all wrong?” He said nothing. “I’m not letting you two ruin my world like you’ve ruined everyone else’s. If Dad doesn’t like that, he can go fuck himself. And you can tell him I said that.”

“That is not a very good way to solve a problem,” he said, and he was really pissed at me.

“I don’t have a problem. I’m doing just fine. Despite you two cutting me off at the knees when I needed your help the most, I’ve been able to survive the other bullshit people have thrown at me. I have a knife in my back with your name on it, so I think I’m doing a damn good job of treating you civilly,” I said, even though I was yelling.

“That is not fair,” he objected.

“I have a knife in my back that says ‘Stefan Schluter’ on it,” I reiterated. “I really don’t think there’s anything left for us to talk about.” And with that, I ended the call. John must be late, for some reason or other, so I took that opportunity to call Grand and fill him in on my conversation. He didn’t really say anything, but just seemed sad. When I was done, John hopped into the limo, and we took off. I looked over and noticed that he had a bruised lip. “Dude, what happened to you?!?”

“I got into a fight,” he said.

“With who?” John wasn’t a fighter.

“Noah,” he said. “I think I got the worst of it.”

“I’ll kill him,” I swore, and felt the rage flowing through my body.

“No,” he insisted. “It wasn’t a big deal. I took like two punches, and landed one on him, before it was broken up. Pete and Cam were there, and they pulled us apart.”

“Did anyone else see you guys fighting?” I asked.

“Marie was there, the bitch. That’s what started it,” he said. I’d never seen him this mad. “But other than them, no one saw. No teachers or administrators, anyway.”

“What was it about?” I asked.

“She was giving me shit, and he backed her up, and I told him that as soon as she was done pissing you off by going out with him, she’d dump him like a rock,” he said. I laughed at that, at how that must have totally freaked them out.

“Dude, the truth hurts.”

“Tell me about it,” he said, and put his hand up to his swollen lip. “Shit. I won’t be able to kiss anyone until this heals.” We laughed about that for a bit.

“Will you be alright at home?” I asked.

“Yeah. My mom is going to go apeshit, but she won’t be mad at me, since I didn’t start it,” he said.

“If things get bad, come up and stay with me,” I insisted.

“I told you I can’t do anything with my lips,” he flirted, joking with me.

“Yeah, but I can,” I said, and raised my eyebrows suggestively, getting a chuckle from him. He and I were cool now, and even though we flirted with each other once in a while, it was harmless: the sexual tension was gone. That didn’t mean that if he came on to me I wouldn’t go for it, I thought, grinning.

September 8, 2001

“I am glad you were able to come with me,” Grand said as the chartered plane took off.

“No problem,” I told him. “It will be fun to hang out with you in New York.”

“I am looking forward to it as well. How are your brothers getting there?”

“Darius is flying out with Dad, Stef and Robbie, while JJ is at some competition in Europe. I don’t think he gets back until the day before the ceremony,” I said. JJ’s competition had actually ended on the 7^th, but he’d decided to hang out in Europe and do some shopping. I didn’t mention that to Grand, since it seemed to me that JJ was purposely getting here just in time for the ceremony. He was avoiding all of us.

“Is Tiffany with him?”

“Yeah. She left Riley with Wade and flew over with him. They took Dad’s plane, and Dad’s flying out with Stef,” I told him. It was sad that he didn’t know about this, because it told me how estranged he and Stef were. “We’re supposed to have some sort of party with Mom and Hank tomorrow.”

He eyed me carefully. “You seem awfully calm about this.”

“I have nothing to fear,” I said confidently.

“You are not worried that your father, with Stef’s behind-the-scenes help, will attempt to wrangle you back into court?” he asked.

“Nope, not at all,” I said, smiling. “I finally did what I should have done a couple of months ago. I called my lawyer.”

“Indeed? And what did he have to say?” Grand asked.

“He said that the tough part of emancipation is getting it done. Once it’s done, it’s almost never overturned. Maybe if I was mainlining heroin or something like that they’d consider it, but even then it would be a tough battle. The only way they can really overturn it is to prove that the initial petition was fraudulent, or to show that I’m indigent.” I smiled at him. “I’m thinking that I’ll manage to not be that poor.”

“Then what was your father thinking?” Grand asked.

“My lawyer says it was probably a lot of posturing on his part. He says that the only real risk is that my mother would get involved and start making an issue out of my emancipation happening when she had no voice in it. Even then, he thinks its bullshit,” I said. “That does explain, though, why he told her about my secret room, and why he tried to get her all fired up.”

Grand shook his head. “There are some people who just have problems reading each other, or getting along. It appears that you and your father are in such a cycle.”

“You may be right, but I’m pissed at myself for not asking about this all along. I’ve been going along, all paranoid that Dad could come in and grind me under his thumb, when I didn’t have to be. I feel freer, more liberated now than I did when I was emancipated.” I was pretty much on cloud nine now.

“Sometimes it is not a bad idea to have some external controls in place,” he said. He must have seen my brows narrow, as his comment irked me. “I do not mean to imply that you need them, I am just saying that they are sometimes helpful.”

“I talked to my shrink; had a phone appointment with him,” I said. “He told me that I do have external controls, but they’re voluntary.”

“What does that mean?” he asked me curiously.

“It means that I don’t go wild because I don’t want to upset the people I respect,” I said. He knew that I meant primarily him, and that made him smile.

“I think that is healthy.”

“John told me that they’re not coming out for the ceremony,” I said, referring to John, Aunt Claire, Uncle Jack, and Marie.

“They are not,” he said. “I would like to raise a topic with you.”

“Go ahead,” I said.

“Claire said that John had asked her if he could stay at Escorial for a while, until things improve with his sister. After the altercation with Noah, things have been tense and uncomfortable,” he said. As if they weren’t before.

“That would be sweet,” I said. I really enjoyed being around John. He had slotted into his old place as probably my best friend.

“I thought you would think so, but I wanted to mention it.”

“Something to look forward to,” I said. We relaxed for the rest of the flight, with him reading intently, and me trying to get ahead on my schoolwork so I didn’t have to worry about it while I was in New York City. The phone in the plane rang, and Grand raised an eyebrow as he answered it. He didn’t say much, just pretty much answered yes or no, and then hung up.

“It seems that we are to be the only ones at the party tomorrow night,” he informed me. “The rest of the crew has opted to fly out on Monday.”

“Did they say why? I’m wondering if our charming company had something to do with it,” I joked.

He chuckled. “They claim that there are plans that occupy them this weekend, and referred to Darius’ desire to enjoy his weekend pursuing various amorous interests.”

“Darius wants to get laid,” I interpreted, getting a foul look from him, which just made me laugh.

“Perhaps,” he said. “So it seems we are stuck with each other and that we will be the sole representatives at the party your mother and Hank are having tomorrow afternoon.”

“Are you worried that you won’t know anyone,” I teased, since he was a social beast at parties.

“I am confident that I will be just fine,” he said.

“I’m sure you will be,” I said.

September 9, 2001

The car pulled up in front of Mom and Hank’s condo and let us out, pausing only to schedule a time to pick us up and take us back to the hotel. We were staying at the Marriott at the World Trade Center, since it was right next to where Mom and Hank were having their ceremony. Last night and today had been a blast, as he’d shown me around this city he’d spent a reasonable amount of time in, especially in his past. He took me to the art museum and showed me where he’d run into Jackie Kennedy, and then he took me out to Columbia University to show me where he’d been caught up in riots back in 1968. We’d done the normal touristy stuff, and we’d had dinner at Windows on the World in the World Trade Center, at their restaurant that was on the 107^th floor of the North Tower. The food was OK, but it had amazing views of the city.

Mom and Hank had wanted to have their ceremony there, but it was booked, so they’d opted for the observatory area in Tower 2, the South Tower. We’d gone over there too, to check it out. I had tried not to laugh too hard at how corny it was. They had a hot dog restaurant and a pizza place there, and it was made to look like a fancy subway station. But the views were breathtaking, and the weather was supposed to be pleasant, so even though it would be a little tacky, it would be really nice.

Tonight they were hosting a barbecue, probably to let the two families meet before the ceremony. Grand and I made our way up to their condo and rang the bell. No one answered, so I shrugged and opened the door. We barely made it into the entry hall when Mom spotted us and came over to welcome us.

“Thank you both for coming out early,” she said.

“I have been looking forward to it, and am enjoying New York with my grandson,” Grand said.

“And how are you doing?” she asked me in a friendly way.

“Pretty good,” I said. “Just focusing on school.”

“I understand you and your father are having an argument,” she said.

I shrugged. “Nothing new there. And it’s basically the same reason.”

“Well, relax and enjoy yourself,” she said, and smiled at me. I was really stunned by that, and by how much stronger she seemed.

“Thanks, I will,” I said. We followed her up to the deck, and the first person I saw as we emerged was Hank. She rushed over and gave both Grand and me effusive hugs. I’d warned him the hugs were safer than handshakes, so he submitted to her embrace.

“Good to see both of you!” she said. There were probably about thirty people up here, but Mom took us around and introduced us to everyone.

They seemed like very nice people, all very blue-collar, and all a bit unsure as to what to think of the two of us with our fancy clothes (even though we’d both dressed down for the event) and our private jet and limousines. “So are you a professor or a doctor?” one of Hank’s cousins asked Grand.

Grand smiled in his social way. “I am actually both. ‘Doctor’ represents my degree, my PhD, while ‘professor’ is what I do for a living.”

“Oh,” the guy said, as if light bulbs went off in his head. There weren’t many teenagers there, and in fact there was only one other guy who was in high school. Mom led us over and introduced me.

“Will, this is Gary Neuberg,” she said. “He’s Hank’s nephew.” This guy was big in all kinds of ways. He looked like he played football, probably a linebacker or something, because he was really beefy. He was wearing a short-sleeved shirt that was way too tight for him, and barely seemed to be able to keep his muscles and fat contained. He had round features, in that his face was kind of round, but his nose had a rounded look to it, unlike mine, which was pretty pointy. His blond hair reminded me of Robbie’s, because it was darker like his, but unlike Robbie, he had brownish eyes to go with it. He was really attractive, and really masculine.

“Will Schluter,” I said, and shook hands with him. His hands were calloused, and it looked like his nails were dirty, as if they had grease or oil underneath them, and looked like they’d been chewed down to a short length. The contrast with my perfectly manicured nails and smooth hands was pretty stark. Mom and Grand moved on, leaving me to talk to Gary.

“You been here long?” he asked me. He had a really strong accent, kind of like that John Carullo guy that was friends with Matt. Made sense, since he was from Jersey just like Gary.

“Just got in yesterday,” I said. “We spent most of the day seeing shit, like museums, and went up to Columbia University.”

“I changed a set of rings,” he said. I looked at him, totally confused. “On an engine. Rings,” he said, in a patronizing way.

“Whatever,” I said. “I’m not real mechanical.”

“Oh yeah? What are you good at?” He snickered. “I heard about one thing.” I just rolled my eyes at him and walked away. I didn’t have to put up with bullshit from some moronic New Jersey mechanic. “Dude, wait,” he said. “I’m sorry. I was just joking around.”

“So what’s the one thing I’m good at?” I asked.

“I was going to say sucking dick, but now you’re being all sensitive, so I’ll say surfing instead. My aunt was going apeshit, raving about how good you are.” He’d put aside his bullshit bravado posture, and now he was being nice, so I responded in kind.

“See, you know about two things I’m good at,” I flirted.

“Maybe I’ll have to find out about that,” he said, flirting back. I raised an eyebrow and he chuckled. “There’s a beach around here with decent waves.”

I laughed. “Dude, you made the wrong choice.” He laughed with me.

“So what are you doing tomorrow?”

“Probably doing stuff with my grandfather for part of the day,” I said. “Why?”

“Want to hang out?”

I thought about that. Hang out with this hunky guy who seemed kind of dumb but cute, or bother Grand all day long. “Sounds good. Let me check with my grandfather to find out what his plans are. I don’t want to blow him off and have him get all bitchy.”

“He doesn’t seem like a bitchy dude,” Gary said.

“He’s not,” I said. His partner, on the other hand...