“DO YOU WANT A BEER?”
How the hell did Spotted John Nygaard keep a steady supply of beer inside the boys’ dorm at Pine Mountain?
Oh yeah, he was a ninja.
I wondered if he’d ever assassinated anyone.
We sat down on the awkwardly close-quartered love seat. Spotted John kicked off his sneakers and turned on a video game called Battle Quest: Take No Prisoners, which was an absolutely inane contest involving murder, ninjas, a World War Five battle in future Stalingrad, and women whose clothes were apparently not as professionally stitched together at the seams as what the male characters wore.
“I better not,” I said. “Wouldn’t want to get crazy with Mabel again.”
“Oh. No worries. Besides, Balls took her home with him for the weekend.”
So totally gross.
“Do you ever play this game?” Spotted John asked.
Let me be clear: I never play video games, but I know a bit about diplomacy.
“I’m terrible at it. I’ll just watch you play.”
“I’m the bisexual ninja with the flame gun,” Spotted John said.
That confession was definitely five out of five rogue asteroids on the Ryan Dean West Things-I-Never-Saw-Coming Scale. “Uh. You actually smuggled a flame gun into Pine Mountain?”
“In the game,” Spotted John said.
“Oh. Yeah. I knew that’s what you meant. In the game.”
I figured we were going to make small talk before Spotted John broke down and did what he agreed to do. Maybe he was lonely without Cotton Balls around on the weekend. I got that. Being alone at Pine Mountain was rough sometimes. Weekends could be insufferably long.
“Since you’re a ninja and all, I was wondering, have you ever killed anyone?”
“Not in this country,” Spotted John answered. He bit the edge of his lip and flipped buttons on his game controller. “Do you ever smoke weed?”
I shook my head. “Nah. Not in Oregon.”
He said, “How are your ribs?”
I shrugged. “I think you were right. Just bruised. They’re a lot better now. Thanks for the pain pills, though.”
“Anytime, dude.”
Spotted John touched my side where JP Tureau had splattered my ribs. I kind of did what any guy would do and leaned away from him. Then he let his hand rest on my thigh.
What?
No no no no no.
I tried to make a joke of it. “Um, Spotted John, you are never going to get to checkpoint one on Mrs. Blyleven’s roadmap to consent, dude. So forget about it.”
“Ha ha,” he laughed.
“Heh.” I laughed back at him.
So fucking awkward.
And he left his hand there on my thigh for just a little bit too long for it to have been a Danish mistake, or a rogue five-fingered asteroid for that matter.
It was way too weird. What did I get myself into this time?
Spotted John paused his game. He pressed his hands into his knees and stood up. He cleared his throat and said, “Well, I’m going to have a beer, then. I’ll get the phone for you.”
“Okay. Thanks.”
Spotted John sat beside me and drank his Danish beer. He watched to be certain I didn’t get into the personal stuff he was concealing on his phone, and he listened, at least to the Ryan Dean West lines in the conversation I had with Nico Cosentino.
And I’ll admit my voice was a little shaky, because what the holy crap was Spotted John thinking?
NICO COSENTINO: Hello?
RYAN DEAN WEST: Hi. Nico? This is Ryan Dean West, Joey’s . . . uh . . . friend. Is this Nico?
NICO COSENTINO: Yeah. Hi.
NICO COSENTINO: Is that all we’re going to do? Just keep greeting each other, back and forth?
Side note: To be honest, it was a fair question, and one I was asking myself, which made me realize that I liked Nico Cosentino for thinking the same way I did, at least about stuff like saying “hi” and stuff.
RYAN DEAN WEST: I hope not, because this is a borrowed cell phone and I probably don’t have all night.
NICO COSENTINO: Yeah. I didn’t think you guys were allowed to have shit like cell phones at Pine Mountain.
RYAN DEAN WEST: We’re not. The dude I got it from’s a ninja.
NICO COSENTINO: That must explain it, then. Did he kill anyone for it?
RYAN DEAN WEST: Not in America. But who knows?
NICO COSENTINO: (He laughs. I made him laugh.) Look, Ryan Dean, I just wanted to say that I’ve been thinking about my brother a lot since yesterday. And, well, he’d probably be mad at me about the way I acted. So, I know you were his friend, and you meant a lot to him, and I’m sorry I was such a dick.
RYAN DEAN WEST: It’s no big deal. I guess I was pretty annoying. I should have left you and your family alone. I’m sorry.
NICO COSENTINO: So now we’re just going to apologize back and forth all night?
RYAN DEAN WEST: No. No.
(There is a really awkward five seconds of silence, during which time I avoided looking at Spotted John, who was really, really close to me on his couch.)
NICO COSENTINO: So, anyway, I talked to my mom and dad about it, and I asked them if they’d let me come up to Pine Mountain next week to watch your friendly. My team hasn’t even started practicing yet, and I thought I’d like to see how you guys play.
RYAN DEAN WEST: You play too? I knew you did as soon as I saw you! What position do you play?
NICO COSENTINO: Winger.
RYAN DEAN WEST: I did that for a couple years.
NICO COSENTINO: I know. Joey talked about you and your team all the time. In fact, he almost never shut up about you. The game’s on Thursday, right?
RYAN DEAN WEST: (Side note: I’m a little choked up thinking about Joey never shutting up about me. It was probably really embarrassing stuff Nico knew about me too.) After school, at four.
NICO COSENTINO: Maybe we could hang out and talk after the game.
RYAN DEAN WEST: I’d really like that. That would be fucking awesome.
Side note: Okay. You know. I didn’t really say “fucking,” but I did feel like kicking my feet in the air and doing one of those little Sam-Abernathy-quick-tug-TSEs on myself.
NICO COSENTINO: Okay. My parents really want me to talk to you for some reason. You know. Well, I’m taking a bus up from Portland. If I needed to spend the night, could I crash on your floor?
Side note: Things like visitors sleeping over were entirely against the rules at PM. And then there was the issue of the size of our dorm room. Not to mention the Abernathy and open windows and shit. But Mr. Bream was kind of clueless, as my beer-drinking, pot-smoking, ninja love-seat-mate proved on an ongoing basis.
RYAN DEAN WEST: Dude. Yes. You can. That would be great.
NICO COSENTINO: Okay, then. Sorry I was such a douche to you, and I’ll see you Thursday.
RYAN DEAN WEST: Hey, if you need to call or text me, just use this number and the ninja will get the message to me.
NICO COSENTINO: Okay, bro. See you, Ryan Dean.
RYAN DEAN WEST: See you Thursday, Nico.
And, yeah, he broed me.
Again.
I thanked Spotted John for the phone and didn’t wait for him to say anything else before I got the hell out of there.