"I said I didn't think you two would be messing around or I would have..."

"Why?" He sounded totally offended, like I'd just called him poor or ordinary or something.

"Why what?"

"Why the fuck didn't you think we'd be fucking around? What the hell else would we be doing?"

I shrugged at him. "How would I know? Anything?"

"Usually we just hold hands and make kissy faces at each other," Justin assured me from the pool. "And that only, like, once a week at most. Shit, your dad's usually in bed asleep by 9:30 anyway, so how could I even..."

"Shut the fuck up," my dad said. "I'm glaring at you, Asshole, and I look fuckin' menacing."

"Really?" Justin said, as if Dad had just passed on some interesting bit of trivia. "I probably look worried, like I'm afraid you might really, really be mad at me. You know how I hate that so very much."

"Hey guys," Justin said, "How'd it go?"

"Shitty," my dad said. "I hope you have a good pair of shoes, Sonny Boy, because you're not getting behind the wheel of one of my cars ever again. You are a terrible driver."

"That shows what you know! Justin thinks I'm a great driver!"

"Justin is blind!" my dad shouted. "He can't see the semi you're careening towards!"

"Oh ha ha," I said.

"Okay, just tell me this, would you?" my dad said, tossing the cap of his water bottle on the counter. "What the fuck is going through your brain while the rest of us are thinking, 'There's a stop sign. There's a stop sign. THERE'S A FUCKING STOP SIGN!'?"