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Coming off the airport’s moving sidewalk, Grayson knew the bastard immediately.
“GRAYBEARD – FOR HIS BFF” Kyle’s sign read. Grayson gave his best friend a back-beating, one-sided hug on account of the humongous duffel bag he had on one shoulder. Then, he thumbed the sign. “How many weird old dudes did you have approaching you?”
Kyle shrugged. “You know, three or four.”
As they made their way to the exit, Grayson shook his head at his friend. “You are one loony son-of-a-bitch, you know what?”
Trust Kyle to remember the nickname he’d dubbed Grayson that one time that Grayson had – for three weeks in uni – grown a beard that had been dark, like his hair. Thus, the joke.
Kyle cracked a lopsided smile. “How’d you figure?”
“First this sign,” Grayson gave the Bristol board a good whack, “Then this whole five-minute engagement of yours.”
“We’ve been together a year,” Kyle reminded him.
“A year,” Grayson scoffed. “Last time I saw you, you were single and happy to remain so.”
Kyle nodded, as if he understood. Although his answer clearly indicated that he didn’t. “Things change.”
“Things change,” Grayson repeated again and then sighed. “Ah, if only Kyle of yesteryear could hear you now...”
“Kyle of yesteryear hadn’t met Kyla yet,” Kyle asserted, stubbornly.
“Exactly.”
Grayson let it drop for a few minutes, indulging in talk of his duties as best man as well as general chitchat and updates. Turning off airplane mode also made his phone chirp with incoming texts; one from Kyle (“At the airport, waiting for my beloved graybeard xo”), another from a co-worker (“You bastard, you won’t believe what Keller’s going on about this time”), and one from Jenny (“Hi! Let me know if you want to grab a drink <3). The third text had probably heard he was back from mutual friends. He stared at her text for several seconds before tucking his phone in his pocket. Was he going to go back down that road again this visit?
Then, once they were in Kyle’s Lexus and heading for dinner, Grayson couldn’t resist.
“So what, is this fiancée of yours some Victoria’s Secret model? Like, 100 pounds, D-cups and hair to her ass?”
“You’ve seen her on Facebook.”
Grayson shrugged. “I don’t know; this whole engagement thing happened so fast, maybe that was your old girlfriend.”
Kyle did his fluttery blond eyelash-wiggling thing, the same one that, back in the day, when done at the right time, used to send the two of them into hysterics.
Right now, though, it just made Grayson want to take his friend out clubbing, just like in the good old days.
“Can you save the bro judgement until you’ve met her at least?” Kyle asked him.
“That would be reasonable,” Grayson agreed. “But impractical, considering I can’t express just how horrifically bad of an idea this is when the perpetrator herself is in the same restaurant booth.”
“‘The perpetrator’? You sound like a conspiracy theorist,” Kyle commented.
“Frankly, I am right now. Wondering what kind of roofie the woman slipped you.”
Kyle gave him a loopy smile. “The great sex, kind heart, killer-sense-of-humor kind.”
Grayson raked some fingers through his styled hair. “Yeah, yeah, we’ll see.”
He let the silence hang for another couple minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore.
“Hate to do this, man, but I’m gonna have to play the Lily card. You do remember what happened, right?”
Kyle’s face slackened, and immediately Grayson felt like slamming his head onto the dashboard in front of him. A ridiculous, stupid reaction – he hadn’t done it since he was twelve. But, it was still his go-to instinct whenever he fucked up as royally as he just had.
“Forget it,” he said quickly, although it was already too late.
Kyle’s whole face was a testament to the teenage pain-fest that had lasted almost a whole year after that Super Bitch had dumped him.
Grayson should’ve known better than to bring it up. Hell, he’d been there.
He’d been there the night Kyle had walked in on Lily and their former friend, Trey, all curled up together, naked in Kyle’s own dorm bed, no less.
He’d been there in the months after, when Kyle failed out of every class he was taking, smoked weed until he passed out, and basically pushed away every caring person in his life.
All except Grayson.
Maybe it was because they’d been best friends for so long. Ever since kindergarten, when Grayson had stolen Kyle’s dinosaur toy at recess, just how he did with everyone, Kyle had calmly told him he was a menace to society, but that, nonetheless, they could play with the dinosaur together if he so wished it. It was something nobody else did.
Or, maybe it was because Grayson’s older brother had been a dick, the kind who microwaved his pet hamster Hammy. So, he’d been in need of a brother and taken Kyle on.
Whatever the reason, for that year, Grayson had basically been Kyle’s walking, talking, annoying psychiatrist/stalker.
He could still remember it; that odor when he’d first walked into Kyle’s room, all smoky and pungent and foul, like Kyle had hosted a pot-smoking party with a few cats and some of them had died during it. He remembered that singular waft of fresh air when Grayson picked his way across the wasteland of chip bags, beer cans, and dirty clothes to crank open the window.
While almost everyone abandoned Kyle and termed him as a lost cause, Grayson had stuck it out, barrelling in with blockbuster movies, Playboys, and three full-size Doritos bags. He’d knock –sometimes for several minutes – until, dozy and grumbling Kyle would finally stumble over and open the door. The odd time, he’d even succeeded in annoying his friend out of his room for a trip to the on-campus McDonalds. The few times Kyle did talk was to bitch about Lily, and how her admittedly hot, dark-haired, thin but evil whore ass had been his ‘one,’ and how she wouldn’t even answer his calls anymore.
“So, I’m assuming this means no Two Musketeers, now that I’m here?” Grayson said.
Kyle didn’t even look at him. “What do you think?”
Grayson let out a lugubrious sigh. “My, how times have changed in only a few short years.”
“Sure have,” Kyle said amiably, as he pulled into a parking spot.
“You know,” Grayson said, glaring at the exuberant sun outside. “This time, two years ago, during my annual visit, we were watching ‘Don't Be a Menace to South Central While Drinking Your Juice in the Hood’, and then going out to Absinthe and getting laid.”
“You coming, or you going to stage a car protest?” Kyle had Grayson’s car door open and was eyeing him with an expectant smirk.
“Don’t tempt me,” Grayson said, dryly, as he came out.
He took in his friend’s cheery moon face like the rosy-cheeked, squiggle-eyed emoticon that was way too happy for its own good. He was like a cute bunny about to hop into the patient jaws of an alley cat.
“Seriously, though, how much do you know about this girl?”
“Hmm, let’s see.” Kyle tapped the side of his head, screwing up his face like he was deep in thought. “I do know that her favorite color is purple.”
“Hilarious. But really, what’s the big rush anyway? Pretty sure you have a 50/50 chance of making it, and even then, most married people secretly hate their spouse anyway.”
“Don’t use your parents to stereotype for the greater population,” Kyle said, flatly.
Grayson frowned. Although his parents were notorious for their sporadic World War Three bouts (his mom had once smashed all the plates in their house during one such fight), it still didn’t mean he was wrong.
“Just remember me when you’re in your room, pissing in an old Ben and Jerry’s Cookies and Cream container because you can’t even bring yourself, in your sorrow, to drag yourself to the bathroom.”
“Dude,” Kyle was actually starting to look pissed now. “That was...”
“One time, I know. But still, mark my words, you’re making a mistake.”
Just then, a woman shoved by him.
Grayson glared at her ugly, grey sweatpants back. He wanted them to go to Hooters not only to give Kyle one last final reminder of all that he was, very soon, going to miss out on, but to avoid her type – the lazy, conservative bitches.
As they neared the place, Kyle squinted. “So, do they have them inside?”
Grayson grinned. Maybe they were getting somewhere. “Oh, you bet they do.”
Excitement shone in Kyle’s eyes. “It’s really all owl-themed? Damn, Kyla’s gonna love this. I bought her a pendant and everything.”
Grayson stopped in his tracks. He rotated on his heels to gape at his friend incredulously. “You’re shitting me, right?”
