“And that’s the universe telling you to respect your elders,” Steel declared.
“Why’s the universe gotta be on your side?”
“Because I have wisdom in my favor,” Steel said, rocking me with every chuckle he let out. “And you should put that thing away before you hurt yourself.”
“Was just about to check out,” Rebel said as he rubbed his forehead.
“Sounds like code forfifteen more minutes of shoppingto me,” I said. “What do you think, Steel? Do you think he’s really checking out, or is he planning on adding a few more things to his basket first?”
“Definitely adding more,” Steel said.
Rebel grumbled, but seconds later, a whisperedohhhclued us in to the fact that he was still shopping. “I just got a badass bunny dressed like a steampunk mad hatter and the matching t-shirt.”
“Fifteen more minutes for the win!” I declared.
Rebel flipped me off and went right back to what he was doing, while I stared at the show on the screen, shocked when he announced he was finished less than two minutes later, before blowing a raspberry at me.
“That’s what I think about your fifteen minutes,” he said and laid the phone on the coffee table.
“Admit it, you’d have used the full fifteen minutes if I hadn’t given you shit about it,” I said.
Another middle finger in my direction and silence from Rebel, which was as telling as if he’d just owned up to it.
“He’d probably have gone twenty-five and dropped the phone on his face again,” Steel said, needling him enough to get flipped off too.
He was getting tired, though. His eyes started drooping and might have closed altogether if his phone didn’t blip.
Grumbling, he picked it up, grimaced, then took a picture of his middle fingers. I guess everyone was getting flipped off tonight.
Bloop.
Bloop.
"Fuckkk," Rebel groaned, phone halfway back to the coffee table. “Come on.”
“Who is it?” I asked.
“The first one, Knightly, which is what the middle finger was for,” he said. “Those last two times were Dash; he’s got something that he wants us to listen to.”
Now it was my turn to groan, because I’d grown quite comfortable on Steel’s lap and was no longer in a hurry to move.
“Tell him to come here; I’m not getting up,” I declared.
“He recorded it.”
“Even better,” I said and waited for Rebel to hit play.
Basslines filled the room, but my mind kept drifting away from the music instead of dialing in and being inspired.
“What were we supposed to be looking for?” I asked when it finished playing.
Silence.
I glanced from the phone to his face to see him blinking at it sleepy-eyed.
“Fucked if I know,” he said at last. “Want me to play it again?”
“No,” Steel said, pressing on my shoulder until I sat up. “I want you to tell him you’re going to bed and will listen to it in the morning.”