Save My Day (boyxboy)

9 Mine is Yours

Getting back in the car, I notice my cellphone blinking from the center console. When I pick it up, it shows that I have 6 missed calls from the same person.

“Holy shit,” I turn to show my best friend as he starts the car. “Did she call you? Maybe, she IS dying.”

He pulls his phone from his back pocket and hands it to me to look at. Three missed calls shows on his screen as well.

“You didn’t answer either?” I ask him as I turn my phone off and he pulls away from the curb.

He shrugs, but doesn’t take his eyes off the road, “My phone was on silent. I’ll call her back later.”

The ride back to his place takes a good 40 minutes, but we fill the time with easy conversation. Stuff like; he’s never been to the part of England I’m from. He offers to come help me look for a place to stay in Los Angeles. We talk about having to help paint the bar. Nothing too heavy, just friendly conversation that always comes so natural for Topher and me.

“You think they’ll get pissed if I decide to use my Stitch voice the entire time we record for the video game?” he asks me; laughing as we make our way up to his condo door.

“As in Lilo and Stitch?” I ask shifting the pizza box from one hand to the other.

He starts to walk backwards effortlessly down his hallway so he can look at me as we talk, “Yea, I have it mastered.”

“Oh please do say something,” I almost beg.

And, he does. He starts reciting his most famous lines from ‘Save the Day’ in the little blue creature’s voice. I can’t help the hysterics that follow.

By the time he pushes open his front door, we’re both almost on the floor going mad.

“I’m glad you’re in such a great fucking mood!” shouts the last voice in the world that I want to hear. “Now can someone please fucking explain this to me!?”

“Shit,” Topher whispers next to me, jokes forgotten.

Looking up, I see Rebecca Rattan holding our marriage license in her fisted hand, “Someone, please, fucking tell me this is some kind of goddamn joke!” He face is red with rage and it looks like she’s been crying. Mascara has made two watery trails down her cheeks, “I’ve been trying to call both of you since I got home from my interview today and nobody is fucking answering me!” She throws the papers on the ground and takes a few threatening steps toward us.

Neither Topher nor I have moved from the spot we stopped in right inside the doorway.

“Answer me!” she screams and throws her fist down by her sides.

I look over to Topher to see him trying to hold back a smile. He looks over at me, “Is that who you sent yours to?”

“Oh my God,” realization rains down on me like a thunderstorm. Turning back to Becca, I ask, “Where did you get that?”

“It was with my doorman when I got home this evening with a note saying ‘I win’,” her swollen eyes narrow at me.

This is when Topher can’t hold himself together anymore. His laughter comes out in loud spurts making me smile guiltily.

“I’m so sorry,” I tell her with a bit of humor in my voice. “I honestly didn’t know I sent that to you.”

She takes another intimidating step toward me, “You’re telling me this isn’t fake?”

“That’s exactly what I’m telling you,” I nod. “How did you get in?”

She waves her hand toward the door, “I don’t have to answer to you. This isn’t your house.”