His words are like a slap. He does seem very generous, always offering to help people. And he’s been so generous with me, helping me get my apartment set up, cooking for me. But I’m not going to flick a switch and suddenly get over my fear of germs from strangers.
“Well, I haven’t had Covid yet and there’s a reason for that. It’s who I am as a person. I’m very picky about what I put in my mouth.”
He smirks.
“I know. That’s what she said.” I laugh, and so does he.
But then his expression shifts again.
“There’s nothing wrong with sharing, Margaux. You need to stop being so selfish. The alcohol kills the germs anyway.”
I quirk a brow. “Does it, though?”
He nods, his eyes narrowing. “Yes. And fuck you for complaining. Because I was just talking to him about spray painting his car up like this truck. He might be paying me three hundred and fifty dollars, all because I was nice enough to chat with him for a bit and give him a sip of our drink. But all you want to do is complain about it. So if you’d like me to go back over there and say that sorry, my fiancée doesn’t want me to have anything to do with you and thinks you’re gross, so you can keep your three hundred and fifty dollars, I will. Is that what you want me to do?”
His words make me feel a bit foolish, and I look down. It’s great if he’s able to get some work out of the guy. Maybe I was a bit quick to judge him, even if he was sitting out at a beach park drinking by himself in the middle of the day. And it would be helpful if Timmy could get more jobs like this.
It’s just different from how I would approach a situation, that’s all. He’s right. I’m just too uptight.
We drive a bit further, and stop at his hometown beach. He hops in the water and floats around for a bit while I watch.
Being in the ocean seems to calm him, and when he gets back, I can tell he’s more settled and chilled out. He pulls up to the side of the road on a random side street, and I take another funny video of him dancing with a hose and pretending to threaten to splash me with a huge grin on his face.
He drives up to a parking area behind a nondescript strip mall. There’s a door covered in bright graffiti.
“I’m banned from that bar,” he says, a hint of pride in his voice.
I quirk a brow. “For what?”
“Oh, it was just a misunderstanding. Not a big deal.”
A guy walks past on his way to the graffitied door, and he glances over at the truck, and then at Timmy. He does a double-take. “O’Malley!” He calls out, grinning from ear to ear.
Timmy’s eyes grow wide and he beams. “Hey man! It’s been forever. How are things!”
He comes up to the car and nods at me and smiles. He’s got long, thick dreadlocks and is missing a few of his front teeth. But he seems friendly enough.
Timmy gestures at me. “This is my missus, Margaux,” he grins. “We just got engaged. Margaux, this is Dogfucker!”
His friends have weird nicknames. I have no intention of asking how this guy acquired his.
“Wow, that’s awesome, you guys! Congratulations.” He shakes my hand through the window. “You coming inside?” He gestures his head toward the door.
“Nah, can’t.” Timmy shakes his head. “Still banned.”
“Oh man, that sucks,” the guy lets out a low whistle. “Well, if you want to do a bump, I can bring some out.”
“Thanks man. I’ll let you know,” says Timmy.
“Okay, sweet,” the guy says, and then heads inside.
Timmy looks at me, his eyes sparkling. “Well, should we go get a bump?”
“Can we just go?” I ask, frowning. A knot is wedging itself within my insides. I just have a really icky feeling. No, I don’t want to go and do drugs outside a bar Timmy’s banned from with a random near-toothless man named Dogfucker. I’m starting to get a bad feeling about Timmy and the people he chooses to acquaint himself with. He seems sketchy, not someone I’d ordinarily hang around with. Not trying to be judgmental, but this isn’t how he presented himself to me up until now. Maybe I was missing some signs, and ignoring others, but I feel really out of my element.
Timmy lets out a massive sigh and rolls his eyes, his frustration exaggerated. “Fine, yes. We’ll fucking go because you want to, Margaux.”
40