“You didn’t say you lived on the beach,” I said, trying to sit up so I could shake him for leaving that part out.
He hummed and paused his scrolling. “I could have sworn I did.”
“No, you left that part out.”
“Oops. Maybe I told Steel.”
“You saidNewport Beach,” Steel said. “You never saidon the beach.”
“Well, it’s not technically on the beach; there’s a slight drop-off at the edge of the yard and some rocks, then you’re on the beach.”
“So, it’s on the beach,” I said, shaking my head at him, since Steel’s hand on my ass, again, meant I wasn’t moving out of his grasp.
“Pretty much.”
“Looks like we’ll be vacationing together,” Steel said. “I’ve decided to take him up on his offer too and see if I can help with the Impala.”
“That doesn’t sound like a spectator sport to me, so I’ll find some other way of amusing myself,” I declared.
“There’s plenty,” Rebel said. “The den has theater seats and a flatscreen, several different game systems, and a fridge stocked with drinks and snacks. There’s a whole wall of games in theretoo, and I don’t just mean video games. And then there’s the pool table.”
“I’ve been dying for a game,” Steel admitted.
“I don’t doubt it, not if Jagger and the boys still play anytime they can,” Rebel said.
“It doesn’t help,” Steel said.
I’d never thought about it that way before and wondered if Rebel had either. I was glad Steel was coming to Rebel’s too. It would have felt odd to not have him with us.
“We can play all you want,” Rebel said. “I’m always up for a game. Sometimes, I’ll play just because I need to have something in my hands while I think.”
“Shocked you don’t pick up your guitar,” I said.
“Sometimes it’s distracting,” Rebel admitted. “You’re lucky to have those drumsticks; you can take ‘em out and spin them whenever you want.”
“Only if I want to be stared at as I walk down the street.”
“Happened a time or two, hasn’t it?” Steel said.
“More than that, but yeah, I get what you’re saying. You’d wind up playing if you picked up your guitar, which wouldn’t get the issue sorted out.”
“Exactly.”
“I’ll start spinning my sticks when I’m trying to remember something,” I said. “I don’t know why, but it helps.”
“Johnny and I would shoot pool and quiz each other on whatever test we had coming up,” Rebel said. “Even when we weren’t in the same class, the material was the same; everyone carried the same book covered in brown paper wrapping.”
“Mine was never brown by the end of the year,” I said. “I’d draw all over it with Sharpies when I got bored in class.”
Rebel chuckled, scrolling slower now. “Mine were covered in stickers from the skate shop. Johnny’s were too. My folks gave me two dollars a day for lunch. I’d spend half on ice cream bars and half on stickers and guitar picks.”
“Man, you only paid two dollars for lunch?” I said. "That's bullshit; it was three by the time I went.”
“Damn, make me feel old.”
“It was a buck when I was in high school,” Steel said. “So, I’ve got both you younglings beat.”
“He called us younglings,” Rebel snickered, losing control of his phone, which landed on his face. “Owe.”