Backward Compatible: A Geek Love Story Page 21

  “So, um…” he says.

  “I’d invite you in, but-”

  He stops me. “I understand. It’s the lure of the pancake puppies, isn’t it?”

  I smile. “Something like that.”

  He closes the door and leaves me to it. I have to admit I’m relieved that Lanyon and Heather hit it off because, maybe, just maybe, George and I will have one date to ourselves during this entire break. As I stand in the shower and try to wash off days of not sleeping, eating like shit, and worrying about nothing, I realize that I really, really like this guy. In a way I don’t think I’ve liked a guy before. I don’t know what it is exactly, since we didn’t start out on the best of terms, but I definitely like him. And, for the first time, I feel okay with that – and with me. Because I think he might actually like me, too. Despite people like Stacy and Vicky. Despite my constant self-doubt. Despite even my utter lack of girlyness.

  I catch myself humming as I dry off, although it’s just the theme music from FDX. I get dressed and put on George’s shirt. It looks cute on me. It’s a little tight since he’s a kind of scrawny guy, but it kind of looks sexy. Well, sexy for me.

  They’re just wrapping up Call of Duty when I get back to the bedroom. “Ready to go?” I ask.

  George stares at me, then stumbles over to his dresser and grabs his keys. “Lanyon, you and Chad go warm up the car.”

  “That’s code for a quickie,” Lanyon tells Chad as they walk out the door. George blushes, which is cute, but he doesn’t come up with a witty retort for once.

  “I’d be okay with that,” I say, which makes him blush more. “Sorry, was that too forward?”

  He shakes his head. “No. Um.” He pauses, looks across the room at me, then turns off his TV and sighs. “Fucking Denny’s.”

  I nod. “Yeah. Fucking Denny’s.”

  So, with potential action on hiatus yet again, we climb into the car where Lanyon and Chad are arguing about The Avengers. They both love the movie and the comics, making the argument more of a loud agreement, but nonetheless, they sound angry about their mutual passion for Hawkeye.

  “Anna and Heather are already there,” Chad breaks in after getting a text.

  “Great. I should probably pay, huh?” Lanyon asks. “Since now I’m a boyfriend and all that?”

  “Do you have money?” George says.

  “No, but my mom does. Can we swing by my house?”

  We take a detour to Lanyon’s house and, while the rest of us stand in the living room, Lanyon goes to beg his mom for money. An incredibly uncomfortable looking teenager pokes his head into the room.

  “Wo ho, a hot bitch in the house,” the awkward thing says.

  “Trevor, you are a steaming wad of fuck,” George replies.

  “Hi, Trevor. Where’s Clovis?” I ask.

  On cue, an even more uncomfortable looking teenager enters the room. While Trevor is tall and skinny, with arms that seem out of place on his body, Clovis looks a lot like a ball. A greasy, zitty ball. I stifle a laugh. Hymens everywhere rejoice.

  “You guys coming to Denny’s?” Chad asks.

  “Naw, dawg. My ma be all up in my grill about gaming until dawn,” Trevor replies.

  “So, you’re grounded?” George confirms.

  “I’m not,” Clovis says. “You guys should bring me. That paladin wants me. I can tell.”

  Lanyon comes back with money, grabs Trevor by the face, and shoves him to the ground. “To Denny’s!” he announces and we’re off, Clovis looking after us with longing.

  George

  “Is Clovis running after us?” I ask, as a small flailing figure slowly evaporates in my rearview.

  Lanyon turns around. “Ha ha. Yup. And it looks like he’s yelling something. Maybe wheeze drop or he’s a mop.”

  “Should we stop and let him come? It’s pretty sad,” Heather says.

  “He’s five years old and sort of a tool. His tag is Hymen Shatterer, for God’s sake,” Katie says.

  “Gross. Still.”

  “He runs well for a fat man. I’ll give him that,” Lanyon says.

  “I have an idea.” I pull the car to the side of the road and wait. Emboldened by the car stopping, Clovis goes into turbo mode and gives it his all to run up next to us. He gets to passenger side window and Katie unrolls it. Yeah, she has to unroll it; no electric fancy man stuff in Crimson Lightning.

  Clovis is doubled over and wheezing; big bubbles of snot inflate and pop at his nostrils. “Jesus. Didn’t you see me running after you, you cock bag?”

  “Oh sorry,” I tell him. “Do you want a ride?”

  “Yes.”

  “Thought so,” I say and drive off. He looks bewildered as we chug away from him, before he falls back and collapses into the snow on the side of the road.

  “Wherever he dies, there shall he be buried,” Lanyon says.

  “Ah, Denny’s,” Katie says as we pull into the parking lot of the restaurant a few minutes later.

  “Like a tractor beam on my heart, it keeps pulling me back,” I reply.

  “I hardly ever come here,” Heather tells us.

  “What?” Lanyon asks as he gets out of the car. “Haven’t you had the pancake puppies?”

  “What are they?”

  “Jesus’s taint on an afghan! This will not pass. Come with me, child, and let me open your eyes. Come and see. Oh, brave new world with such tasty fried pastry in it.” He leads her into the restaurant.

  “You guys sure do quote Shakespeare a lot,” Katie says to me.

  “Lanyon’s a lonely guy. I once caught him jerking off while reading Othello.”

  “I need to delete the search history in my brain.” She shakes her head and we find ourselves, once more, in Denny’s. This time, since it’s actually dinner time, the restaurant isn’t that crowded. In the corner, seated at one of the giant bended tables, waits our entire FDX team, minus Clovis and Trevor. Seynar and Danger are pushed into the middle and seem to be being ignored.

  Lanyon makes room as we approach. “Here, then, are the final survivors. Those who cast that goatish douchewad into Hades and set us all on the path to victory and unheralded stardom.”

  “There will be no stardom. We were like the eight hundredth group,” Chad says.

  “I said unheralded. Save, of course, for our own joy, the knowledge of the accomplishment we achieved as a team, and the ridiculous amount of pancake puppies we are about to consume.” He turns to the waitress. “Barkeep, let us have pancake puppies until the gods themselves say enow.”

  “Six or twelve?” she asks.

  “A plethora, good lady. We doth require a plethora,” Lanyon says.

  “Twelve then,” she says as she writes something on her pad and leaves.

  “Lanyon, you’ve gotten awfully grandiose lately,” I note.

  “My life is a pixy stick of cocaine, my friend. Victory on the Xbox, triumph in love. What have I to be sad about?”

  “It’s Christmas and you haven’t bought anyone presents,” I point out.

  “Oh, shit. Man, I need to pay more attention to the calendar.”

  In the corner of the booth, still dressed mostly as a dwarf and sporting a badass red beard, Balin is putting the moves on Ally. “So, do you want to get a look at my mines?” he asks her.

  “I’d love for you to show me Mor-ia,” she replies.

  “Ah, young nerdy love. It sets the heart to wing,” I say.

  “How is he going to eat her out with that beard?” Chad asks. Anna spits her Oreo shake across the table and we all laugh to avoid the horrific awkward grenade that Chad just dropped.

  “Jesus, we’re all in couples now,” I say. “This is stupid. I feel like we walked into an episode of Friends.”

  “Hasn’t that show been cancelled since the first Battlestar was on?” Chad asks.

  “Not quite,” Anna says.

  “How do you know about Battlestar?” Katie asks her.

  “I love TV. I know it all.”

  “N
ot all of us are in couples,” Heather says. “Seynar and Danger do look like they’re plotting something, though.”

  “Hey, Danger,” Lanyon shouts across the table. “What’s your real name?”

  “Danger is my real name,” he sneers.

  The waitress returns. “What should I buy my girlfriend for Christmas?” Lanyon asks her.

  “What do you want to drink?” she replies.

  “You’re a real social butterfly, you know that?”

  “I’ll just bring water,” she says and leaves.

  “You guys want to play WoW?” asks the dwarf.

  “I’m not really into PC gaming,” Ally says.

  “Me, either,” I admit.

  “You know what we really need?” Katie asks. “We need the next Fatal Destiny game to come out.”

  Katie

  Pancake puppies notwithstanding, sitting around at Denny’s at a reasonable hour for dining is really boring. Even with people I have grown to like, for the most part. As if he can read my thoughts, Seynar speaks up. “You guys read my blog post?”

  “About how you didn’t bother to do enough research to discover that more than half a million teams had already defeated Apocmandur?” George asks.

  “No,” he whines. “Well, kind of. It’s about how we defeated that goat and how we came together as a team, a committee of friends, a league of-”

  “Justice?” Lanyon suggests.

  “You guys suck,” Seynar says and he goes back to eating. Danger just smiles creepily. He looks like his name should be Danger. Or Random Creepy Dude. Either or.

  “I’m bored,” Chad complains.

  “We didn’t technically beat FDX, you know,” I remind everyone.

  “I know, and I’ll still beat it, but I feel like my entire life’s mission is gone,” Chad adds.

  “It was your life mission for, like, two days,” Anna reminds him. “Also, we can just leave and go have sex. If you’re that bored.”

  “Gross,” says Heather.

  Lanyon raises an eyebrow. “Gross?”

  “That’s my brother. Don’t worry. You can still tap this,” she says and kisses him.

  George leans close to me and whispers, “When did we get teleported to the Island of Horny Toys?”

  I laugh. “When we beat the boss and realized there is nothing else to do in this town?”

  “Touche.”

  “Didn’t someone say something about a murder mystery dinner?” Lanyon reminds us.

  “Oh, yeah. What’s the status on that, George?” I ask.

  He shrugs. “They don’t have them around here. Unless we want to enact our own. Seynar can play the victim.”

  “Fuck off,” Seynar replies.

  “So, what’s everyone doing for Christmas?” Ally asks. “We should totally do something, at least after the holiday.”

  “Like?”

  “Bowling?” Chad suggests.

  With no other suggestions in our arsenal, the entire group gives a collective shrug and agrees to go bowling the day after Christmas. That’s when I remember George’s mom’s offer.

  “Hey, your mom mentioned something about a tradition? Christmas night? If I can leave my grandparents’ house early enough, I can-”

  “Please, no,” he says. “I like that you like me.”

  “It can’t be that bad,” I argue.

  Lanyon pops a pancake puppy into his mouth and rubs his fingers together like an old-school cartoon villain. After he swallows, he chortles. Seriously. A chortle. “Oh, young one. To live in a world of such blissful ignorance. To exist in a place of light where darkness has yet to settle. To know only the joy of-”

  “We get it,” George says. “Katie, you really don’t want to come over. If there is any chance we last into the new year, please, I beg of you, stay away on Christmas.”

  “Balderdash,” I say.

  “We’re playing board games?” interjects Danger.

  I shake my head. “You know, I’m just more curious now.”

  “You know what they say about curiosity, don’t you?” Anna asks.

  “It killed the cat?” I reply.

  “Curiosity is a heartless bitch. What the fuck did the cat do?” Lanyon exclaims.

  “Anyway,” I continue. “I don’t care. I’m sure it’s cute. Like you,” I say to George.

  This is, naturally, the moment when Denny’s is hit with a Cone of Silence. Except for the words coming out of my mouth. Those reverberate over the pancake puppies, through the restaurant, across the old school counter, and then bounce off the claw machine, landing with a massive echo in the middle of our table, ensuring everyone hears them. The Cone of Silence is immediately dispelled once the words are out and our table breaks into a barrage of comments.

  “She just called this hideous bastard cute.”

  “I thought she liked me.”

  “Oh, that’s sweet.”

  “Holy shit. Katie is finally gonna get some.”

  This last one was, of course, from Anna, whose crudeness seems contrary to the fact that she’s mostly a normal girl otherwise.

  George turns about the same color as the red velvet pancake ball hovering on his fork. He drops it, but recovers quickly and flashes me a geeky and adorable smile. “I think you’re cute, too.”

  “That’s it,” Chad decrees, as he spikes a wad of cash on the table. “We need to get out of here and blow some shit up. There is way too much Nicholas Sparks nonsense happening at this table.”

  Heather chuckles. “Nicholas Sparks?”

  Chad coughs. “What? Anna reads him.”

  Anna shakes her head. “No. No, Chad, I don’t.”

  He gets up, taking her by the hand, and waves. “We’re out. See you guys online.”

  Balin and Ally follow quickly after them, making excuses but not hiding the fact that they’re touching each other quite a bit. As soon as they walk away, Seynar sighs loudly and puts his head down on the table. “I’m going home with Danger, aren’t I?”

  “It’s okay,” Lanyon says, patting Seynar on the back. “The virgin always lasts the longest in horror movies. So, if we are all teleported into a cheesy 80’s slasher flick, you’ll be the last one standing.”

  George

  We drop off Lanyon and Heather after the Denny’s event fizzles to a close. On the way back to my place, Katie gets a steady barrage of texts and calls from her parents. “Oh yeah,” she says. “I haven’t been home in days. They’re going to be mad.”

  “I guess I should drop you at home?” I don’t want to, but I also don’t want to be the asshole boyfriend her parents hate before I even get to meet them.

  She sighs. “I have to. At least for a bit.”

  I head toward her house and stop in front. We enjoy some of Lanyon’s so-called pre-coital activities before we say goodbye. “So you want to come over for Christmas?” I ask her.

  “Sure. After all, if you’re going to be the love of my life, I need to know all of your family’s dirtiest secrets.” She gets out and bolts up the walk into her house.

  “Love of her life? Things are going according to plan. Wah ha ha.” I look around. “Jesus, I talk like this even when I’m alone. I have problems.” I look at the Link heart in my backseat. “Problems indeed.”

  ***

  Katie and I hang out on Live and through other magical technological connection devices, but I don’t see her for a couple of days. Not until Christmas. She’s agreed to battle the horde of family chaos to become a part of my life. Damn it; I shall make this work. I prepare her gift. I’m poor so it’s cheap but, I think, maybe clever as well. If not, I’m screwed.

  The doorbell rings. “George, your girl is here,” my dad shouts from his home base, the chair. “We have plenty of bread in the house, so no worries.”

  “Was that a joke? Did you try to make a joke?” I ask him.

  “Of course. I’m a regular Laurel and Hardy.”

  “They’re dead, Dad.”

  “But their spirits
live on.” He smiles, leans back in his chair, and drops into an instant nap.

  I get the door. Katie’s standing there, wearing stuff; it looks cute. I don’t know what the stuff is called, but it seems to work. “Come upstairs,” I tell her. “The great Christmas torture does not begin for a little while.”

  “I’m excited. What is it?” she asks, her cheeks still red from the cold.

  “You’re freezing. Did you walk here?”

  “No, but my mom likes to leave the window open a crack to keep the air fresh. Whatever the hell that means. Now stop changing the subject. What’s this tradition of yours?”

  I sigh. “All right, listen. Since the dawn of time, there have been holiday films made in all genres and to varying degrees of success. In some cases, great movies, I’m talking the very best even, have been tainted by mysterious and little known films that the internet speaks of in hushed and fearful finger clacks. Our tradition is based on one of these hellacious monstrosities.”

  “No way. It can’t be.” She claps her hands together.

  “Yes, I’m afraid it is.” I cover my eyes. How can I reveal the dark secrets of my family? But… I must. Love must light even the blackest of skeleton-infested closets. “Every year on Christmas,” I take a deep breath, “my family watches the Star Wars holiday special.”

  “Squeeee,” she says, pronouncing squeeee. “That is awesome. Your family is awesome.”

  “Ah,” I say. “I see you haven’t seen it before.”

  “I haven’t. I could not be more excited. This isn’t bad; this is amazing.”

  “Dear lady. You have never seen such hell. Your memories of Han and Boba Fett and dear God, the Wookies, the damnable Wookies, they will never be the same. But that hell shall rain soon enough. Now, to my room for your gift!”

  She follows me up the stairs as I jump them three at a time. I turn around once we get to my room and she tackles me onto the bed. “Ready for your gift?” she says.

  “Ravish me, sultry maiden,” I say.

  “Not that slick, are you?” She leans back, but I can tell she’s just screwing with me. “Let’s see this gift of yours.”

  I get up and head over to my desk. “Okay, so I have no job. I’m poor as a level one merc. I had to get the most for my money, you know.”