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“Nuts are super fatty, bro.” I picked up a cashew that had fallen onto my shirt and stuffed it into my mouth. “And do you know how much sugar is in dried fruit? A fuck load, that’s how much.”
Greid just snorted into his soda can, bleary eyes glued to the wrestling on the TV. Then he winced. “Daaamn.”
“What?” I looked over at the TV.
“The Urg just pulled his classic move on Big Demi.”
“The Family Jewels Destroyer?” I twisted around eagerly to face the TV better and saw Big Demi curled into a ball on the floor of the ring, clutching his junk while The Urg stood over him and showboated for the crowd. “Shit, man, The Urg is a beast. Wish I looked like that.”
Greid wrinkled his nose. “He’s probably ’roided up.”
“True.” I reached for my water without taking my eyes off the TV, almost knocking the glass over. “I’m not putting that shit in my body. He is the best though.”
“Yeah.”
Snickering, I began, “Hey, do you remember—”
I stopped abruptly. No. No more teasing Greid. He finally likes you. He hugged you. Don’t fuck it up.
Greid rolled his eyes and nudged me with his elbow. “You can say it. I believed they were really fighting for years like a chump.”
I fiddled with the bag of trail mix. “I mean, it was kinda funny, bro. We did all try and tell you.”
He huffed, but he was smiling. “Yeah, I know.”
“You had that poster of The Urg up on your wall.”
“Yeah.” He glanced over with a wry smile. “And then you drew a big cock and balls on his forehead.”
“What?” I sat up straighter, a shower of trail mix falling into my lap. “That wasn’t me. That was Kiti. Did she blame me for that? She’s such a little shit.”
“Yeah, well, that doesn’t surprise me. The first time she met Beryl, she told her I’d been the one to poop in the bath when we were little. When it was definitely you.”
“What?” I repeated, more outraged this time. “That was not me. I would never poop in a bath. Gross, dude.”
Greid rolled his eyes. “We were tiny, Nuni. And anyway, Mom’s the only one who’ll be able to actually remember who did it, but she claims she’s forgotten.”
“Why don’t we just say it was Tuvin or Sorin?”
He laughed. “Okay, sure.”
Staring at the TV with glazed eyes, I found myself asking, “Is that why Beryl doesn’t like me then? Because she thinks I pooped in the bath when we were kids?”
Greid snorted. “Why would she care about that? And she doesn’t dislike you, Nuni.”
I squirmed. “Then why’d she get all weird when I met her at Christmas?”
“Because she’s just kind of… protective.” He shrugged and ducked his head, face spikes flexing with pleasure as a tiny fond smile tilted his mouth.
I stared at him, then gave his leg a weak tap with my foot. “You’re gonna mate her, huh?”
His ears fluttered. “I mean, yeah, of course I want to.”
“So why haven’t you proposed yet, bro?”
“Well, I think we’re both kind of… waiting to see if the other one does,” he said sheepishly.
“So get there first! Make it a super big surprise. Oh!” I nudged him again. “You should do it at my firm’s anniversary thing. Lots of champagne, good food, you’ll be dressed up all nice…”