Ned Gets Stood Up

Chapter Fifteen

GRIFFIN

This holiday season, Griffin had managed to stay out of the hellscape suburban moms roamed: the mall. Griffin already did Christmas with his parents. They handed him an envelope with one hundred dollars and then, left for an Alaskan cruise. Griffin hated only one thing more than boats: being trapped on one with thousands of people he'd probably hate. Nothing worse than strangers that gathered for a common stupid interest.

His dad made some offhanded comment, "Well, if you don't like it, we'll just leave you here."

It was meant to be a joke.

But Griffin's reply flew out of his mouth before he could catch it. "Yeah? Well, that's fine by me."

It didn't feel serious until he woke up the next morning and the house was quiet. He hadn't been back home since.

"Are you a psychopath?" Griffin asked Indie as he stared out into the hustle and bustle of people who wanted to get through the crowd but were also contributing to the crowd. It was tail eats snake of dumbasses annoying other dumbasses.

Griffin hated Christmas.

"Are you my therapist?" Indie asked back. "Don't diagnose me."

When they cracked a smile, Griffin finally realized Indie was joking.

Sighing, Griffin pushed up with glasses and crossed his arms. Even talking to Indie was exhausting. He couldn't figure this person out. Griffin was good at reading people, talking them up, and calculating all the ways to make someone really like him or really hate him, but all on Griffin's terms.

Indie however was a different story.

It was like figuring out the rules to a game as he was playing it. Like first he thought Indie was a game of Sorry, but then Indie revealed a new game piece and Griffin thought maybe this was Twister. By Christmas Eve, Griffin might learn this was all just cat and mouse and he was just the cheese.

"What are we doing in my worst nightmare?" Griffin asked.

"I have a task for you," Indie said, reminding Griffin the rules of this dumpster fire of an agreement meant he couldn't argue with anything Indie requested. The regret pressed Griffin like wet hair in a straightener and he was steaming.

"Anything else?"

"Finally, a good question. Yes," Indie said and reached for their small red sequin change purse hanging off their and pulled out some money. "Your budget is twenty-five dollars."

"Ridiculous," Griffin huffed under his breath, but he snatched the bills and stalked off to the first store he saw. Some little boutique and went to the first obvious spot: the jewelry. He picked the first blue shiny thing he saw, a butterfly necklace and whipped around, nearly crashing into an older woman.

"Oh, wow!" she gushed, smiling so much she looked she wrinkled more than a raisin. "You have good taste. My granddaughter would love that."

Griffin's stomach dropped alongside his jaw. His face immediately flushed like Indie doused him in gasoline and this lady struck the match. There was no way this was actually happening. It couldn't have gone better even if Indie had planned it.

"You can have it," Griffin grounded out before offering up his loot. "I wasn't sure about it."

"Really? Oh, well thank you," she said and held the necklace to her chest. "That is very kind of you."

"Uh, yeah," Griffin's whole body was covered in the same sticky uncomfortable warmth. Her focus on him was too sincere and it gave him an icky feeling in his stomach. Griffin's own grandmother never looked at him like this. Still, he grumbled, "You're welcome."