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He looked away from the tv, a tiny 12 x 12 inch screen, at the sound of lawn chair metal scraping against front porch timber. It was a few seconds before he was returned a muffled.. "Yeah..." Well, you don't live with a guy for a few years without picking up a couple of things, and that voice was reserved for two events - physical pain . . . and legitimate sorrow. And since Ash wasn't one to get down in the dumps very often, Benny had to assume it was the former. Abandoning "The Fast and the Furious", he made for the front porch, propping open the screen door... "Que paso, hombre..?" Ash just turned his head, a meeting of eyes, and responded - "Dad." The Mexican nodded a bit, mouthing a silent Ohhhh.. and turned back into the house. Gotta fetch the man some ice, y'know. Diamond's upper lip was split, no major travesty, but he sported a bloody nose that would require further attention. Been socked good, he had. When Benny returned, he dropped a homemade icepack into his friend's lap before taking a seat in the chair beside him. "You hit 'im back?" It sounded a bit more like "heet 'eem back", Benito's eyes glancing curiously over at the gringo. "No. Ish her Dad, she'd hate me", his words still a bit muffled behind the press of washcloth. Well, it wasn't as though Ash hadn't known it was going to happen one of these days. And it's not like he hasn't been punched by a surly father, brother, boyfriend, cousin, etc., in the past. But for some reason it was a bigger bummer with Dakota. First of all, it ruined her cute little pretend game of being Miss Mature. And secondly, this wasn't Georgia, where Ash travelled with a literal pack of guys, willing to back him up .. nor was it Tijuana, where he could disappear into a sea of people and basically escape memory. No, this was a tiny little island, and it was more than likely that Mr. Dakota's Dad was going to run into him one of these days. Or, better yet, hunt his ass down and give him some hassle. Which was fine, he could handle some physical disagreement, but if the guy got his name ... well that just wouldn't do. There was still that pesky warrant out for his arrest, and Dakota wasn't worth jailtime. He sighed through sensitive teeth and pulled the cloth away from his nose, leaving it stained a vibrant red. "It broken?" Ash shook his head. He'd had it broken three times in the past ... he knew full well what it felt like. "No, jus' hurts.." By tomorrow, his face would be a little bruised, lip a little swollen, nose probably trickling ... but otherwise he'd be as good as new. The only trouble was - what to do about Dakota? Probably use a payphone to give her a call would be the best bet, rather than risk a trip to her house. But what then? Her father probably clued her into how old he actually looked, and for all Ash knew . . . he'd successfully convinced her that he was a no good sack of shit. In which case he would be right, of course, but that spoiled everyone's fun. Post a comment in response: |
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