Growing Up and Other Tall Tales

Chapter 88

"She didn't think I could do the pushups with her on my back," Duke explains gleefully, "but I could do them, and I did do like fifty of them, and then we made out, so the joke is on her!"

"You are such a dude sometimes," I say finally and Duke groans in exasperation before beginning to reiterate his entire tale with additional emphasis and exclamation marks

"Capo!" cries a wonderfully familiar voice, and I feel the relief of her impending salvation

"Look," I announce loudly cutting Duke off, "It's Missy,"

"Oh, hey Missy!" Duke greets, unbothered.

Missy gulps in a deep breath, looking at me with panic. My smile drops.

"Ineedyoutodomeafavor," she rushes out

As far I'm concerned, Rowena left twelve hours after we had talked. I had kept an eye out for any flights for any descriptions of someone who look like her. Even without the striking blond hair.

I pull her aside, fearing the worst. "Did something happen? Are you okay?" I survey the area around us before lowering his voice. "Are you pregnant?"

"Whoa, what?" Missy exclaims pushing me. "Why?"

"I want dibs on the name." I shrug

"What makes you think I would name my child Cap—you know what, I don't have time for this," she dismisses. "Look. We're playing a game, it's gonna start in like two minutes, and we need more people."

Oh.

Impending salvation my ass.

"No," I say firmly before turning away only to find her nails digging down into my skin

Missy takes a deep breath. "We need you and Lyra. Both of you."

"Me and Lyra?" I ask surprised and even more when I hear a tiny voice in my head chastise: "It's Lyra and I, you illiterate shit,"

Missy fidgets in that way she does when she doesn't want to say whatever's next. And I'm not sure if I want to know.

"It's...a game about people knowing each other." She looks away. "Just, like, their...uh, awareness." Her eyes dart back to me. "As two people who kind of care about each other."

We hold eye contact. She blinks.

"This sounds a lot like a game for couples," I say slowly. "It sounds like a couples' game."

Missy laughs nervously and squirms,

"Kind of,"

"No, not kind of," I insist, definitely sure now. "It sounds exactly like that."

There's a pause.

"Lyra and I are not a couple," I add

"Ha, right," Missy snorts, "but, you know," she holds up her hands when I'm about to comment on her unnecessary and frankly, rude response, "It doesn't matter. You don't need to be."

"You don't?"

"No, no, no," Missy rushes to say, "It's fine. Don't worry about it."

I squint at her. "Where is this even happening?"

"This room here," she ushers me, pointing to the right, and—hold on, there's a bunch of people setting up chairs in the next room. In the center are two short rows of chairs, facing each other. Is that a microphone plushie?

"This seems shady," I decide. "I don't like it. I'm out."

"Since when do you back out from something shady?"