Page 40 of The Broken Hearts Club

“I’m fine for now. Thank you, though.”

“You must really be pissed off at me.”

“What makes you say that?”

“You’re being exceedingly polite,” he said. “I think that’s your tell, like in poker. The angrier you are, the more you mask it with manners.”

“That’s a wacky theory.”

He took off his sunglasses and glanced at me. “So, you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be?”

“Because you think I’m being ridiculous and childish and making a huge mistake.”

“It’s your life. What you choose to do with it is your business.”

Collie stared at my profile for a long moment before saying, “You’re being nice about it. But I feel like, if I go home with you, you’re going to go Jekyll and Hyde on me and try to pressure me into having the operation.”

“How would I possibly pressure you?”

“I don’t know. Guilt? Logic? The offer of sexual favors?”

“Would any of that work?”

“The last one might.”

I grinned at that and kept my eyes on the horizon.

A minute or two ticked by. Finally, he blurted, “Fine, I’ll come home with you. On two conditions.”

“Let’s hear them.”

“The operation is like Fight Club.”

“We don’t talk about it?”

“Exactly.”

“Okay. What’s your second condition?”

“I haven’t thought of it yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll let you know.”

“Alright.”

We sat there until the sun turned orange and dipped below the horizon. It wasn’t the most dramatic sunset ever, but Collie seemed delighted. Afterwards, I helped him collect his things and carry them to the parking lot.

The surfboard was leaning against the driver’s side door, and the wetsuit hung off the roof so it could drip-dry. The side panel door was open, and inside the van, Billy was fast asleep on the beanbag. He’d changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, and he was surrounded by at least twenty empty snack-sized chip bags.

Collie muttered, “Aw, he ate all the Doritos.”

“Actually, they’re off-brand. Those packages say ‘Dodidos.’ And I can see why he ate so many. There are probably only three chips in each of those tiny bags.”

“It was still a good deal.” He shook Billy’s knee and said, “Rise and shine, buddy. It’s time to go home.”

Billy hopped out and loaded his surfboard and wetsuit in the back before sliding behind the wheel. Collie climbed into the van’s passenger seat, and I got in my car and followed them out of the parking lot.

It occurred to me that Collie might decide to make a break for it. If so, what could I do? He thought I was going to try to convince him to have the surgery once we got home, and he wasn’t wrong about that. Not that I had any idea what I could possibly say to get him to change his mind. All I knew was that he needed that operation, because without it, he was putting himself in jeopardy.