Page 79 of Down Bad

I wonder if we should just leave, or if Diego is enjoying some kind of afterglow and actually likes being in the noise.

Maybe Diego wants to pick up where we left off.

In a place we won’t be interrupted. Such as one of our houses, perhaps. A convenient option, considering the proximity.

Or maybe that’s not where his mind is at all. Is this just Diego being Diego, or is there a reason he’s not talking? Is something on his mind that I should bring up? Would he even want to talk about it if there was?

But I guess I’m being kind of quiet, too. In my thoughts.

We could just be feeling the weight of what we did.

Together.

A little secret we’ll hopefully hold forever about our time in the thunderstorm room.

Maybe none of the noise right now can penetrate us. It’s like an armor now, shielding us from the bombs of laughter, chatter, and clanking glasses all around us.

Still. It wouldn’t hurt to say something.

“Um … hey, Diego …” I start.

That’s exactly when Lance appears, planting himself right in front of us.

Flat-faced.

Annoyed to no end.

“I waited,” he states coolly.

Shit. “I’m so sorry, Lance. We just—”

“—got lost on your way to the bathroom? You just missed the whole thing. Jimmy and Bobby’s dance number, too. It was to die for, by the way, Tanner was not exaggerating …”

“Lance …”

“Two seats left empty. Right by the stage. Perfect view.”

“I know.”

“I could’ve let Toby and Vann sit with us so they could be with their sister-from-another-mister Kelsey. But no,” he goes on, hand to his chest, “my considerate self held on to those seats for you and your neighbors’ nephew Derek because I thought maybe one of you got sick and needed longer.”

Not the time to correct the name. “I’m truly sorry. We got caught up, and truly, uh, got lost in that … that enormous—”

“Save it. I’m too mad. If you guys wanted to fuck, you could’ve waited until after the show at the very least.”

That stops me cold.

I can’t even speak.

“Oh, come on,” Lance says with a roll of his eyes. “Like I can’t read the pair of you and the sexual tension dripping off you two. Billy even said something was up during your last movie night, and that’s saying something, because he’s sometimes as dense as the pound cake he made me for my birthday, and—Y’know what? I can’t even.”

“H-Happy belated birthday?” I try.

“And now I’m supposed to go and talk business with Cass and meet this rich producer lady from Brookfield I heard is a piece of work, and I’m not even in the mood anymore.”

Lance walks away after that, leaving me in a total daze, drink almost spilling as my hand goes lopsided.

What was that about Billy? What did he even see? How does it have anything to do with Diego?