Last Bit of Sky

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Chapter Thirteen

“I’ve never been this effing confused in my life!”

Terrence had to chuckle despite Damon’s obvious frustration. He always found the incomprehensibility of Damon’s standards hilarious. Damon was by all definitions a ‘man-whore’; and he had absolutely no qualms about lying and cheating to get what he wanted. But he absolutely refused to swear. He held his dates to the same standards. Damon would go out with any girl- no matter her reputation; unless she was a potty mouth. He would not date girls that made a habit of swearing.

“Okay, what did our fair Alanna do this time?”

“That girl is all mixed signals! She runs hot and cold like faulty plumbing!”

“Wow, you are putting less and less effort into your metaphors and similes these days.”

“Not the time to poke fun at my current deficiency in wit, Terry. I seriously don’t know what to do about this girl. I have no idea why I’m even interested in her at this point!”

“It’s hard not to be,” said Terrence quietly.

Damon scrutinised him for a moment.

“I know I’ve asked this before, but Terry are you sure you don’t have a thing for Alanna?”

Terrence seriously considered telling Damon the truth but decided against it.

“She’s cute but the old rule applies- you saw her first so you have dibs,” he replied with a smile.

“Well, I give up. You can have at her if you want.”

“‘Have at her’? Did you seriously say that? First of all, you ain’t Thor. Second, she’s not yours to give away like an old pair of shoes. And last, but not least, are you seriously gonna wimp out so soon? I’ve never seen you not get what you want. I seem to remember you enduring an entire weekend away with Luciana and her idiot friends just so you could convince her to finally sleep with you. If Alanna is more than just a regular conquest, you’re gonna have to dig in for the long haul, sport.”

“Sport? You’re only 6 months older than me. Just ’cuz you graduated early you think you’re gonna be the Plato to my Alexander the Great?”

“Do you ever pay attention in class? Aristotle was Alexander’s tutor. And you are really gonna compare yourself to Alexander the Great? Geez, even when you’re depressed you’re still a vain prick.”

“You’re just mad ’cuz you can’t pull off ‘vain prick’ like I can. You’re the consummate good guy. For some reason I will never understand, girls are still attracted to your goody-goody, sensitive ass. Maybe it’s your eyes.”

“Ammmmm, so you’ve given up on Alanna and have decided to just switch teams altogether?”

“What? No,” Damon replied laughing.

“So what’s all this about my sexy eyes?”

“Hey, I’m man enough to admit when a dude’s good-looking or there’s something attractive about him. And trust me, I’ve seen the way girls melt when they get a good look at those preternaturally green eyes of yours.”

“How are you only getting a ‘C’ in your English classes when you can correctly use ‘consummate’ and ‘preternaturally’?”

“You know, Alanna asked me a similar question. And the answer, which I’d never tell her, is ‘how else am I gonna convince the hot girls that I need to be tutored?’”

“You’re despicable,” replied Terrence in a Sylvester voice.

Damon would never admit it but what Terrence thought of him mattered a lot. Terry was his best friend and he loved him like family. If Damon thought that Terry was actually interested in Alanna, he would have stepped aside without hesitation. In all the years they’d known each other, they’d never fought over a girl and he didn’t think they ever would.

“So, seriously, advice?”

“I gave you my advice already and you didn’t listen!”

“Terry, do you know how hard it is to remember that ‘be a friend first’ crap when I’m with her. I have a hard enough time trying not to kiss her. I can’t do that and remember to just be buddy-buddy with her.”

“Then move on, padna’. ’Cuz you’re not gonna get that girl any other way,” replied Terrence as he made himself comfortable on the sofa and switched on his PS3.

Terrence’s Blackberry rang and he swore as he picked up. Damon gave him a disapproving look as he answered the call.

“Hey, Mom. (pause) Yea, I fughet. Sorry. (pause) Everything went good? (pause) Arite, put he on suh I could apologise, nuh.”

“Hey, Dad. (pause) Yea man. I sorry I ain call earlier. I had nuff schoolwork and ting. Is now I ketching a break. (pause) Mommy seh everything looking good and suh? (pause) Good, good. (pause) I arite, man. Dese professors killin’ we wid wuk now tho. Dem ain making joke fa give assignments every week. (pause) (laughs) Yea, man. I gon survive. (pause) Arite, Daddy. Tek care. Love yall both.”

He slid his phone back in his pocket and picked up his controller.

“My dad got his test results back today. Everything looks good. Cancer’s still in remission. I forgot to call him earlier. Mom was not pleased.”

“I’m glad he’s okay. You know your mom’ll forgive you in like two days.”

Terrence laughed.

“Yea, she can’t stay mad at her only son for long.”

“You know, I’ve known you since you were twelve and I’m still amazed at how easily you can switch between your Guyanese accent and your Canadian accent.”

“Funnily enough, I have the opposite problem with your accent. I am so used to it; I don’t even hear it anymore. People are always asking me where you’re from and I’m like, ‘Toronto.’ ‘Then why does he have that accent?’ ‘What accent?’ ‘The British one.’ ’Oh, ‘cuz he’s British.’ ‘You just said he was from Toronto!’ ‘Look do you want me to introduce you or not?’ ‘Yea, of course!’ ‘Well, you know the fee.’”

“I’m sorry, are you confessing to pimping me out?”


“What’s the fee?”

“A bag of Skittles.”

“What the….?! A bag of Skittles?! That’s all I’m worth?”

“What? You know I love me some Skittles. If I’m charging a whole bag for an introduction you should feel honoured. I only ask for a handful to introduce girls to Frankie. Most girls still think that’s too steep a price.”

Damon laughed as he picked up his controller and selected X-23, hoping his beloved Laura Kinney would pull through in the match against Terry’s Chun Li. He was tired of losing to Terry in Marvel vs Capcom 3. And he was even more tired of losing battles against girls.

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