Tommy Sallow is onto better and brighter things. After working a small hometown beat in upstate New York, he's finally in sunny California. As expected, it's the same shit in a different town. Except, you know, now he's near the ocean and miserable...
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I don't even know why I'm here.
Okay, technically, I'm here to return a video game. But as far as my actual plan, I didn't really think much further than getting to Trevor and Lacy's front door. All I know is that Amber tends to spend a lot of time here and that she and Lacy are getting close. So, that's where I'm at.
I'm not sure how to actually go about this though. Am I here to swindle information about her from these two? Invite myself on their next outing? Garner another spot at the table for a family barbeque?
I raise my hand to the front door, giving it a couple of confident knocks. I've got this.
Sallow style, my brain repeats over and over.
The door swings open and Trevor comes into view with a rather large streak of blue paint running down the side of his face and neck. Upon closer inspection, there's a few spots of pink and green on his forehead and nose, too. Another art project with his better half, I assume. And it's not just the paint that gives it away. His big, friendly smile and the happiness oozing off of him is a whole fucking mood.
"Hey, Tommy," he says, opening the door wider and gesturing for me to come in.
"Hey," I greet him with a nod of my head, appreciating that there's no weird look or question from him as to why I'm here, just a grand invitation, one I gratefully accept as I walk inside. "What happened there?" I ask, pointing to his face.
He reaches for his cheek, rubbing it absentmindedly like it didn't occur to him until now that there's basically a rainbow plastered across his skin. "Chalk paint," he mutters with a grin before raising a curious brow. "So, what brings you by?"
"Oh, I was just, uh..." My ears pick up a high pitched laugh coming from outside and my eyes dart around the entryway, not even sure what I'm searching for. "Returning Call of Duty," I finally say, looking back at Trevor.
An expectant look covers his face and we just stare each other down for a second. His eyes flash to my empty hands as I pop my knuckles. "Where is it?"
"Where's what?"
"The game," he laughs.
I look down at my hands now, too. And it's only to confirm that I do not, in fact, have the game with me. "Fuck, I left it in my car," I mutter, feeling like an idiot. Just goes to show my actual intentions for this visit and where my head's really at. I just hope he can't see through me.
Trevor laughs again. "No worries. You can just grab it later if you want to come in and have a drink or something. We're actually just on the patio painting with Mia. Lacy's got this tape laid out..."
I vaguely hear Trevor continue on about the art project happening outside, see his hands moving animatedly through the air in my peripheral vision. Something about painting shapes and mosaics. Washes off easily or some shit. But I'm checked out at this point, craning my head toward the sliding glass door that leads outside so I can see for myself.
