Page 62 of Badd Ass
“Suggestion?” Bast said.
“What?”
He pointed at the window, indicating the docks, where the sound of an airplane’s propeller could be heard coughing into life. “Go catch Brock. He’s headed to Seattle to see that mystery girl of his. He’d probably take you to San Francisco if you asked him really nicely.”
Barefoot, shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of gym shorts, I jogged outside into a cold early fall rain. Brock was in the pilot’s seat of a single engine seaplane, flicking switches and glancing at a clipboard, a headset over his ears. I jumped onto the float and threw myself into the passenger seat.
Brock didn’t look up, didn’t miss a beat. “Need a ride to Frisco?”
I nodded. “I can chip in on the gas.”
He flipped another switch. “Might I suggest a shirt and shoes, at least?” He shot a grin at me. “I promise I won’t leave without you.”
I ran back home, changed into jeans, a T-shirt, hoodie, and combat boots, and stuffed a few things into a backpack and then ran back to the seaplane. When I was seated, Brock indicated to the second headset and then backed the aircraft away from the dock.
When we were airborne, I glanced at Brock. “So…your girl lives in Seattle, huh?”
He nodded. “Still not talking about her. I don’t want to jinx it. This is my first visit to her. Maybe if this goes well, I’ll share. Until then, I’m keeping her to myself.”
I shrugged. “I get that. You been talking to her?
He nodded. “We FaceTime every night.”
“So would you call that…sex-timing?” I said, smirking.
He rolled his eyes at me. “It’s not like that.”
“Isn’t this the girl you fucked six times in one night?”
“Yeah,” he said, grinning, but then quickly sobered. “But we decided that if we were doing a long distance relationship, sexting or whatever, even via FaceTime, would be cheapening what we had, so we’re waiting until we see each other. We’re trying to do this right, since it’s new for both of us.”
I made a surprised face. “Wow. That’s…impressive, actually. Respect, brother.” I held out my fist, and he tapped his knuckles to mine.
He shot a look at me. “So, what are you gonna say to Mara when you see her?”
I sighed. “I’ve been scripting it out in my head, and I can’t come with anything good.”
Brock snorted. “How about the truth? ‘Hi, Mara. I was a dumbass for letting you leave. Will you please move to Ketchikan to be with me?’”
“But how can I ask that of her? We barely know each other.”
Brock shrugged. “Yeah, well, sometimes you don’t need to know each other to know each other, know what I mean?”
“As stupid as that sounds, it does make sense.”
“Just play it as it comes, dude. Don’t over think it, and don’t let your head get in the way. Sometimes what we think we know is true or right or possible has little or no relevance to what reallyistrue or right or possible.” He adjusted one of the dials, and then glanced at me again. “Arthur C. Clarke stipulated that the only way to discover the limits of what is possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.”
“And there’s the pithy quote I’ve been waiting for,” I joked.
“Hey, don’t knock my storehouse of pithy quotes,” Brock said. “If you think about it, it makes a lot of sense.”
“Sure, but how does that help me know what to say to Mara?”
“It doesn’t. It just means you never know what she’ll say unless you ask.”
“Oh.” I frowned. “And if she says no?”
“Then you get shitfaced in Frisco and I’ll pick you up before I go back to Ketchikan.”