SoWhatIf by S E David

Author:S E David [David, S E]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Wrate's Publishing
Published: 2023-10-17T00:00:00+00:00

EIGHTEEN

BILL FUCKING MURRAY

I unlocked my motel room door, walked in and clicked on the lights. Slowly, at a distance, Lyle followed.

That was when the irony of the situation struck me. This wasn’t so much La Grande Séduction, this was Groundhog Day – Part Two, and I was Bill fucking Murray.

I glanced over at the latest incarnation of Punxsutawney Phil and laughed.

“What’s so funny?” said Lyle scowling.

Rescuing his baseball cap from the savage mangling it was receiving at his hands, I dumped it crumpled on his head.

“Nothing, except the whole damn world and everything in it.”

Irritated, he snatched the cap off again, spending an inordinate amount of time fixing his hair how he wanted, before hooking it back on.

“Nervous?”

He blew out his cheeks and made goldfish eyes.

“Whoa – well, hell, yeah. Getting my cherry popped, man. Ain’ every day a plain ol’ fella like me gets to cash in his V-Card a second time. Not with another guy. Maybe, when ya get down to it, it is a bigger deal than I made it out a be.” He ran a hand along his greasy jaw and screwed up his eyes. “Is it goddamn hot in here all a sudden, Reece? Look at m’shirt, man, I’m sweatin’ like some freakin’ hog at a bacon convention.”

I threw him a reassuring smile as I moved to draw the curtains on the walkway window, using what coins I found in my pockets to feed the AC. It managed a friendly buzz of gratitude if nothing else. Drifting into the bathroom, I closed the open windows, ensuring the air con at least had a fighting chance until the money ran out. In the doorway, I paused before the scene now set, wondering if I should warn Lyle it got no better.

Driving over, a heat haze snaking off the baked road and an angry red sun descending in the sky, we had stopped for a couple of frosted beers and shots. Couldn’t exactly tell you now what we knocked back, but Lyle was in desperate need of it, so fizzing was he with fidgety energy. Sitting on the stool next to me, he unconsciously began tapping his knees with his hands until it drove me half crazy, and when I grabbed his wrist to make him stop, he proceeded to bongo the bar top instead. And then, just when I thought I’d cured him of that, he was at our beer bottles, obsessively picking at the labels, or peeling apart the coasters. After drinking up but still not feeling done with alcohol, I’d insisted on pulling in at a minimart, where we stood in line behind a blue-haired girl in pyjamas to buy the world’s cheapest bottle of tequila. “Think we need a get rubbers?” Lyle had asked, as crazy-eyed as a fourteen-year-old off to his first wild party. But then he seemed to go cold on the idea and used the money to buy a box of Twinkies instead, heavily discounted because they were up to their eat-by date.

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