Page 59 of Joey

And he’s kinda angry when he says this. Which just adds to my confusion.

“Are you… embarrassed?”

“Of what? Brooke. What are you fucking asking me? Am I bi? Obviously, I am.”

“OK. But do you love them?”

“Of course I love them.”

“I mean, romantically?”

He shrugs. “Sure. A little, I suppose.”

“So where do I fit in?” I ask.

“The middle?”

I laugh. Can’t help it. “OK. And I know you said you’re not jealous of Wald, but—”

“No. Look. Let me be clear. I don’t have room for a real girlfriend. OK? So if Huck and Wald want to fight it out and see who gets you all to themselves, I won’t interfere. But I don’t think that’s how it’s gonna go.”

“Good,” I say. And I sigh. I don’t mean to sigh. And I certainly don’t mean for that sigh to come out… sad.

But this is not good. It’s not good at all. Because I kinda like this Joey Boston. I like his friends too, but he’s something wholly different than them. Everything he said today filled up this little-girl need inside me. The whole thing with his daughter. That house. The comment about how he wants to have a family and give her the perfect life.

My heart aches for that. I want it too. And I know that I’m not a part of his vision. He’s not promising me the perfect life, he’s promising that to Maisy. And before Wald started taking control, it was fine. But now I see very clearly how I’m different.

He is promising that perfect life to them too.

When he thinks of his future there is no question in my mind that Huck and Wald are there for the duration.

Is that… jealousy? Am I jealous of his best friends?

Is that why I asked for friendship as payment?

Well, of course it was, Brooke. And I thought I articulated it very concisely. Very accurately when I told them that.

But I didn’t.

I was lying to myself. Because somewhere deep inside me I understood what they were to each other and that’s what I was after.

And that’s not what I said.

I said friendship, but what I really meant was their kind of friendship.

“I’m starting to get a bad feeling here, Brooke. Can you say something please? Because there’s a lot of shit happening in my life right now and I need to know I can count on you.”

And the mother of his child is missing or dead?

Yeah. And then there’s that.

My practical voice inside my head butts in here and says, Yeah. Did you see how many fucks he gave about that woman? And she’s the mother of his child? He gives even less about you, Brooke.

And my practical voice is right. But Joey Boston’s weird, non-traditional, complicated life is like a mystery begging to be solved. And I’ve only known this guy one day. What new thing will I learn about him tomorrow?

I don’t know. But I can’t wait. I want to be involved. That, I realize, is my problem here. I want to be involved. Not just a lie being told. I’m tired of that. I’ve had enough of that.

“Brooke,” he says. And his voice is lower now. Deeper and a maybe just a little bit angry. “Will you fucking talk to me, please? If you’re going to ruin this, I need to know now so I can find someone else.”