CHAPTER FOURTEEN
From the Texts of Shane Willoughby and Jake “the Dragon” Falcone
Shane: Are you still awake?
Jake: Yeah. Can’t sleep. My mind keeps racing.
I was hoping we’d have more time to plan before I had to field questions from reporters about my “mysterious” new girlfriend.
Shane: So you’ve seen the shots.
Jake: Yep.
Congratulations on your first appearance on Celebitchly.
Shane: Ugh. I know! And the Hollywood Clam blog, too!
And no part of my— *shudder*
Seriously, I can’t even type it.
I can’t use THAT word in THAT context. It’s too gross. But suffice it to say no private parts of my body were showing.
The Hollywood Clam was reaching, and I really hope they fail to identify me based on that zoomed in shot of my panty line showing through my dress.
I also don’t care if that’s a fashion faux pas.
I can’t deal with dental floss underwear and if that makes me a “Clam-zaster” then I’ll wear that badge with pride.
Jake: You are not a disaster in any sense of the word.
Shane: I’m just saying, my girlfriend in undergrad did a biology experiment testing the amount of fecal matter found on recently worn normal panties vs. recently worn thong panties, and the results were disturbing.
I will never look at a thong again without thinking of trace amounts of poo.
Jake: And now neither will I…
Thank you, Shane. You’re changing my life one text at a time.
Shane: I’m not trying to change your life. I’m trying to protect you from coming into accidental contact with fecal matter.
I share because I care, dragon.
Jake: I appreciate that.
And you looked beautiful tonight. No one should have slammed your panty line or anything else.
I’m sorry things ended the way they did.
Shane: No, I’m sorry! I thought we’d be safe on the roof. I forgot about telephoto lenses and clearly underestimated the insanity of the paparazzi.
Jake: No, It’s my fault. I should have made sure I wasn’t followed when I left my apartment. I usually switch cabs at least once, but I was running late and dropped my guard.
But on the bright side, at least we look hot for each other.
It’s not true love, but it’s a start…
Shane: Right. There are some pretty racy shots in there, huh?
I have to confess, um…
Well, I had no idea that you had your hand…where you had your hand.
Jake: On your incredible ass?
I realized. I tried to resist, but temptation won out.
Sorry I’m not sorry about that.
Shane: You’re trouble, Falcone…
Jake: Takes trouble to know trouble, Willoughby.
So where do we go from here?
Do I ignore the reporters lurking outside my building when I leave for practice tomorrow morning, or do I give a statement?
Shane: Ignore them for now. Let me see what Bash thinks is the best way to move forward, and I’ll meet you after practice for a debriefing.
You’ll be done by noon?
Jake: Eleven thirty, if I’m lucky. I can definitely meet at noon. Why don’t you wait for me in the stands with the wives and girlfriends? I can put your name on the list to watch practice. That way we’ll know we aren’t being photographed or watched. Security is tight inside the garden.
Shane: Perfect.
I have a few strategy ideas—one in particular that I think could be great for your Keri problem, and your image overall—but I want to check with Bash to make sure I’m not going too far.
Jake: Now I’m intrigued. Tell me more.
Shane: Not until I clear it with the boss.
Jake: Oh come on. Tell me.
Where Keri is concerned there’s no such thing as going too far. That’s why I mentioned the fake pregnancy thing to Bash during our first meeting.
Shane: What?! I thought he was joking about that!
Jake: He might have been joking, but I wasn’t.
I told you Keri had it rough growing up. Her dad left her mom for another woman when she was five.
Keri spent the rest of her childhood hearing how only a monster would leave the mother of his children to fuck a hot piece of ass.
Shane: Ugh. Poor kid.
Jake: Yeah, her mom isn’t winning any medals, but she did make sure that Keri takes parenthood seriously. Very seriously.
If Keri believes I’m with someone I care about and we’re expecting a baby, I think she would back off. Honestly, it might be the only thing that can get her to admit defeat. As long as she thinks she has a shot in hell of getting back on my good side, she won’t give up.
She’s already left five messages on my voicemail tonight, and I just changed my number two days ago.
Shane: Jesus. How did she get the new number?
Jake: I have no idea. I only gave it to my coach and a few people I know I can trust.
Shane: Aw, thanks.
I’m glad you know you can trust me.
And I promise I’ll do everything possible to help you get your life back, but faking a pregnancy doesn’t feel right. At least, not yet.
I think it’s too early in our “relationship” for something like that to be believable and it just…makes my guts squirm.
I’m superstitious.
Jake: Superstitious…?
Shane: I’d like to have kids someday. Hopefully some day not too far from this day, since I’m not getting any younger.
This little voice in my head says I’ll jinx my chances if I lie about being pregnant. I know that’s crazy, but I can’t help it.
Jake: No, I get it. That’s not crazy.
Shane: Yes, it is. It makes no logical sense and is grounded in nothing resembling a fact. That’s the definition of crazy.
Jake: Okay, it’s a little crazy, but I still get it. I take my lucky skates off and put them back on again three times before every game, and in college I went five months without shaving because I was convinced my scraggly beard gave me superpowers.
Shane: I love that!
When you finally shaved did you save some of the beard hair to put in a good luck amulet? Or in a locket for your first born son so you can pass the beard mojo on to the next generation?
Jake: All right. You win.
You can be the crazy one in our “relationship.”
Shane: Awesome!
But seriously, I had a pair of lucky underwear I wore to every test in college. By the time I graduated the elastic was shot and the back was full of holes, but I still keep it around in case of emergencies.
Jake: Sounds hot…
Shane: It is the opposite of hot. It looks like homeless-person underwear.
Jake: I bet you still look damned good in it.
Shane: If I didn’t know better, I would think you were flirting with me, Mr. Falcone.
Jake: Just practicing so I’ll be convincing next time we’re pretending to be in love, kitten.
What do you think about that? Does kitten work for you?
I was trying to think of something more special than baby or sweetheart.
Shane: I don’t know. Kitten is kind of cutesy. I feel like I’m too grown up for a pet name like that.
How about hell cat?
Or razor claw?
Jake: You’re going too far in the other direction. No one is going to believe we’re crazy in love if I call you my little razor claw.
Shane: Hmmm…you’re probably right.
Jake: How about ‘princess’?
You’re NYC royalty, and a princess and a dragon do go well together.
Shane: They do, don’t they?
Okay, dragon, I’ll be your princess.
That takes care of number twenty on the questionnaire, too.
Should we work through the rest of the questions? Since it looks like we’ll be jumping into this thing with both feet tomorrow?
Jake: Why don’t you just tell me something about yourself? Something you would tell someone you were dating. And then I’ll do the same.
Seems like that’s a more natural way to go about getting to know each other than giving you a list of my favorite foods and movies.
Shane: Or we could play truth or dare. I haven’t played that in years!
Jake: All right. But I’m not leaving my apartment. There are already guys with cameras prowling the block.
Shane: Got it. So what’s your pleasure? Truth or dare?
Jake: Truth. Even though you already know most of my secrets.
Shane: Right. So what’s a secret you haven’t told me?
That you haven’t told anyone?
Jake: Shit. I walked into that one.
Shane: You really did, and I’m so happy about it. I’m going to rub my hands together in evil glee as soon as I finish texting this.
Jake: I bet you are.
Okay…something I’ve never told anyone…
Shit…
When I was in high school I used to steal razors and shaving cream and stuff like that from the local drug store. No matter how careful I was with money, I always seemed to run out by the end of the month and I couldn’t stand to ask my mom for a loan. She was usually as tapped out as I was, or worse.
I never got caught, but I felt like shit about it.
As soon as I had enough saved up that I could stop living hand to mouth, I went back and wrote the guy who owns the store a check.
Shane: Wow. How did he take that?
Jake: He cried a little.
Turns out he knew I was stealing the whole time. He turned a blind eye because he knew my family had it rough and that Mom could barely pay for my kid brother’s asthma meds.
He actually tried to refuse the check, but I slipped it into his wallet while we were out grabbing beer and pizza, along with a note that said it would mean a lot to me if he would cash it.
He did and sent me a thank you letter and a picture of me on Santa’s lap when I was a little kid. Mr. Greer plays Santa every year. Turns out his wife saves all the shots.
Shane: Aw, that’s a beautiful story, Jake. What a sweet man.
Jake: He’s a really good guy. But I’m still ashamed of myself. I should have found a way to pay for the things I needed, or gone without.
Shane: You were a kid doing the best you could in a hard situation. And you made it right as soon as you could. You shouldn’t feel bad. You should feel proud. Most people never would have gone back to the scene of the crime to write a check.
So you have a little brother?
Jake: Three. Jamie, Judd, and Justice. My mom had a thing for the letter J.
Shane: J is a sexy letter. One of my favorites.
So how old are they now? Are you guys close?
Jake: You’re milking this turn for everything you can get, aren’t you?
Shane: I’m an only child. I’m intrigued by people who have lots of siblings.
I always wished I had two, an older brother to teach me how to fight and a little sister I could teach everything else. And who would think I was the coolest person ever and be my very best friend, of course.
Jake: That’s cute. My brothers and I aren’t best friends—I spent too much time when we were growing up riding their asses to make up for not having a dad around—but we’re close. They still live in Pennsylvania, but they come to visit a couple times a year. And I always go home for Christmas and fly fishing in the summer.
Shane: So why wasn’t dad around?
Jake: Unh-unh. Your turn now. Truth or dare?
Shane: Oh truth, I guess. But only because I’m too lazy to get up off the couch.
Jake: Why did you want to learn how to fight when you were a kid? Private school that rough in the city?
Shane: After I moved in with my aunt, I went to private Catholic school instead of my Montessori cuddle fest, so that was a rude awakening.
The kids were mostly nice, but the nuns were monsters. Nothing like Fraulein Maria in the Sound of Music. Lots of smacking our kneecaps for wearing our skirts too short and no twirling in meadows.
It was a huge let down.
Jake: So you were planning to take down some nuns? That’s hardcore.
Shane: No, I didn’t want to take down the nuns! Geez. I knew better than to start something with a woman in a hoodie. The media has taught me that people who wear hoodies are in gangs, Jake, and nuns are members of one of the oldest gangs running.
I was too scared to say boo to Sister Mary Eustice, let alone get violent in her direction.
Jake: Then why? Or who?
If you don’t answer, then I win the game.
And I bet you hate to lose, don’t you, princess?
Shane: I do hate to lose, you bastard…
Fine…I didn’t want to take down anyone in particular.
I was just…angry.
All the time.
Running and soccer helped, but I thought if I could learn how to kick the crap out of someone I would finally be able to get all the anger out and be normal again.
Jake: Why were you angry all the time?
Because of losing your parents?
Shane: Yes.
That was before I learned that stuff like that isn’t personal.
Jake: What isn’t?
Shane: Life.
Life isn’t fair, but it isn’t out to get anyone in particular, either.
I wasn’t singled out for bad shit. Bad shit just happened, and I happened to be in the way when it did.
Jake: I get it. And I’m sorry.
Shane: You already said that. And you don’t have to be sorry. Sounds like you had your share of bad shit, too.
Jake: I did, but I also had a really good mom. She saved my life a hundred times just by being there when I needed someone to listen and love me no matter what stupid thing I’d done.
Shane: Aw. That’s beautiful, too.
Is it okay that I find it completely adorable that “the Dragon” is a mama’s boy?
Jake: Yes. Adorable is the first step on the road.
Shane: The road to where?
Jake: You’ll see when we get there.
Shane: You’re more mysterious than most hockey players I know.
Jake: Judging by the fact that you thought a puck was made of plastic I’m guessing that’s not many.
Shane: None at all. And you’re really not mysterious, just a little…confusing.
Jake: What has you confused, princess?
Shane: So many things. Life is very confusing, don’t you think?
Jake: You’re avoiding the question again.
Shane: That’s because my turn is over. And sadly, I won’t be able to stay for another round of Truth or Truth. I have to get my brain sleep so I can be a high-functioning member of society tomorrow.
Good night, Puff.
Jake: Good night, princess.
And please, call me Dragon, at least until I prove to you that I’m magic.
Shane: *dragon emoji* All right, then…