
And okay, she's never been the shiniest fork in the drawer.
But following her on this date with the dude she's hooked up with? That just seemed like a bigger waste of time than-well, that two thousand-word, double-spaced essay I've got due in Mrs. Gregory's U.S. History class on Monday.
Then Ted had to go and suggest I bring the Beretta 9mm.
The thing is, even though it's just a water pistol, toy guns that look as real as that are illegal in Manhattan.
So I haven't really had an opportunity to use mine much. Which Ted knows.
And is probably why he kept going on about how freaking hilarious it would be if we soaked the guy. Because he knew I wouldn't be able to resist.
The ketchup was my idea.
And, yeah, it is pretty juvenile.
But what the hell else am I going to do on a Friday night? It beats a U.S. History paper.
Anyway, I told the T Man I guessed I'd be down with his plan. So long as I was the one who got to do the shooting. Which was fine with Ted.
"I just gotta know, man," he'd said, shaking his head.
"Know what?"
"What this Sebastian dude's got," he said, "that I don't."
I could've told him, of course. I mean, it's pretty obvious to anyone who freaking looks at Drake what he's got that Ted doesn't. Ted's a decent-looking guy and all, but Abercrombie material he is not.
Still, I didn't say anything. Because the T Man was really hurtin' over this one. And I could sort of understand why. Lila's just one of those girls, you know? All big brown eyes and big, well, other parts, too.
But I won't go there on account of my sister, Veronica, who says I need to stop thinking of women as sex objects and start thinking of them as future partners in the inevitable struggle to survive in postapocalyptic America (which Veronica's writing her senior thesis on because she feels the apocalypse is going to occur sometime in the next decade, due to the country's current state of religious fanaticism and environmental recklessness, both of which were present at the fall of Rome and various other societies that no longer exist).
