f is for friendship ... and foreshadows

He’d taken his time about getting ready. It didn’t take that long to get to Bush Intercontinental Airport from his apartment, and Reese had a habit of overestimating how long it would take to get from here to there. In case traffic sucked. In case they had car trouble.

In case Hell froze over.

This allowing for more time than necessary was, Matt thought, one of Reese’s more annoying qualities.

Just as Reese would, undoubtedly, say Matt’s carelessness was one of his more annoying qualities.

And still, Matt wasn’t in a rush to get into the shower. Chances were really good they’d be looping around the terminals five or six times anyway, what with it being a Wednesday afternoon and all.

He rummaged through his dresser for boxers, a faded blue tee-shirt and a pair of khaki cargo shorts, sauntered into the bathroom, dropped the clothes on the floor just inside the door and turned on the shower. While the water heated up, he brushed his teeth and washed his face.

Matt still couldn’t understand why Kyle was coming ten days before the wedding. If the situation had been reversed ... If Matt had been out of state and called home for this, he would’ve flown in the morning of the day of the rehearsal dinner.

Which would’ve chapped Reese’s ass, he knew.

Ten days early, though ... that was just stupid.

It’s not like Catie’s gonna let you see her more than she has to. And Isa and Gus won’t have much to say to you. And since Isa won’t, and Reese won’t want to get on her bad side, you probably won’t see much of him, either. So it’s just me, really, who’ll be keeping you company. Which is fine, I guess, seeing as they all think I’m slime right now, too.

But ... if I knew I was on as many shit lists as that, I wouldn’t come so close to Dodge so soon and stay for so long.

Kyle’s flight would arrive at two thirty-six p.m. It was ten past one. If Matthew were doing the driving, they’d leave at two. Maybe fifteen after. But they’d decided to use Reese’s car, which meant they’d be leaving at one-thirty.

And circling, Matt was certain, for what would feel like hours.

What do you care? It’s not your gas.

He stripped, stepped under the spray and stood there for a good five minutes.

The first thing he’d changed in the apartment was the shower head. And oh, he was so glad he did.

Here, when it came to shopping, he was quick. It’d taken him about a second to figure out which one he liked best. He’d gone to Home Depot’s website, searched for shower heads and chosen the biggest one available. He couldn’t tell you what it was called. He could, however, tell you he’d spent about a hundred fifty dollars on it.

Stuff like that, that was important. Getting to the airport on time to pick up a friend, not so much.

So when Reese knocked on the door at promptly half past one, Matt was just getting out of the shower. He didn’t rush to the door, with a towel around his waist and his hair dripping, as Reese would’ve done, but dried off, dressed and ran a comb through his hair.

Five minutes had passed before Matt swung the door wide, slipped on his watch and his shoes, stuffed his wallet in his pocket and flashed a grin. “Better than last time.”

Reese had settled on one of the steps near the door. “Yeah.” He rose. “Do me a favor, though. When it comes time for all the wedding crap, be early, okay?”

“I’ll try.”

He pressed a hand on Matt’s shoulder. “No. There is no try. Just do.”

Matt raised both hands. “Okay. Okay. Can we go get Kyle now?”

“Yeah. Already got gas. So we won’t be making any stops. If you need a snack—”

“Be right back.” He hurried into the kitchen, leaving the front door open, to slap a sandwich together and snag a half-eaten bag of Fritos from the pantry and a Coke out of the fridge.

They ended up leaving at a quarter til. Reese eased out of the complex’s lot, onto the frontage road, then the interstate. They rode in silence, save for Reese’s music—Morrissey, today. Matt struggled to keep his mouth shut about that. A challenge, even though he was cramming down the chips and sandwich like he’d not eaten in days. “I don’t understand why he’s coming back so early,” he mumbled.

He glanced at Matt, then turned his attention back on the freeway, on the exit for the Hardy Toll Road that arced over the interstate. “What?”

Matt chewed. Swallowed. “I don’t understand why Kyle’s coming back so early.”

“You’ve talked to him more than me. If either of us were gonna know what’s going on with him, it’d be you.”

“And Cate’s okay with this?”

“With him being here? Of course not. With him being in the wedding? Sure. She figured he would be. Isa’s side, with my sisters and Gus and Catie, is pretty heavy. I need all the help I can get. Cate’s made it clear, though, that we’re to keep Kyle as far away from her as possible. So ... Kyle’s walking with August, and you’re walking with Cate.”

Matt focused on the concrete of the road that stretched before them and the trees that framed it. “Probably better that way.”

“And I think we’ve got two tables for the rehearsal dinner. I was gonna put Kyle with my sisters. You wanna sit with them, too?”

“Not really.” Matt forced a grin. “All Paige talks about is her babies, and all Zoe talks about is boys.” He stared out the passenger window. “But that’s probably the best place. So ... what are we doing tonight? Dinner? Drinks?"

“I don’t know, Matt. You’ve talked to him more than me.”

“You’re mad at him.”

“A little. That was shit what he did to Catie. I should’ve known he’d have it in him to do it, but it surprised me anyway.”

“It was eighteen months ago, Reese!”

“Yeah, well, some things are inexcusable.”

Matt angled his head, stared at Reese. “Like what I did to Gus?”

“That, too.”

“It’s not like you’re perfect, McAllister.”

“Didn’t say I was. Look. I don’t wanna get into this with yall right now. You’re still my friends. And of my friends, I’ve known yall the longest. I like having yall around. But what you did to your women ... well, I just hope yall can do better by them in the future.”

“Gus barely speaks to me.”

“Should she speak to you at all?”

(c) twenty-eleven. jennifer k. griffin, otherwise known as c.c. this publication is the exclusive property of c.c. and is protected under the united states copyright act of nineteen seventy-six and all other applicable international, federal, state and local laws. the contents of this post, and any other c.c.-crafted picky post for that matter, may not be reproduced as a whole or in part, by any means whatsoever, without c.c.'s consent. all rights reserved. in other words, steal this, and i will follow you to the depths of hell and the edge of forever and kick your puny, thieving ass. thanks. :]

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