The Get-Go [Ashton Irwin]

21: Get An Answer (Part B)

    "Wynny the Pooh!" He whines irritably.

    I laugh quietly, not wanting to wake up the boys, if they're still trying to sleep. It's been a while since I've been called by that nickname, mostly because it belongs to him and only him. "Brenny the boob!"

    "That's not right." I can almost picture the pathetic puppy pout on his face, and it makes me miss him even more. In all seriousness, I don't know what I'm going to do without him next year. Since that first day that I saw him sitting alone on the playground in grade one, there hasn't ever been a time where we haven't seen each other for more than a couple weeks. But next year, he's going to university, like all my other friends, and going... wherever, with Ashton. "Wynny, get it right."

    My head shakes at his childishness, but I oblige anyway. "What up, Brent Toast?"

    "I don't know. The temperature, probably. It was at least thirty today, even without the humidity. It was beautiful."

    "I call you from damn Australia, and you decide to talk about the freaking weather?"

    "I was just trying to make conversation!" He replied defensively. "I don't know why you called! What do you want to talk about?"

    Still as snippy as ever. It's very comforting, in an annoying, Brent-ish kind of way. I can only imagine what he'll say when I ask him what I have to ask him next. "Would you propose to Sam? Like, really soon?"

    "What? Wait, is this a hypothetical, or are you actually asking me to ask Sam to marry me?"

Unsurprisingly, he sounds frantic. And a little confused. And probably annoyed. Did I call him in the middle of the night back home, or something?

    "Hypothetically! Jesus, why would I ask you to ask Sam to marry you?"

    He lets out a relieved sigh. "I don't know! You do weird things, sometimes, Wyn. I kind of just stopped asking why a while ago."

    "Makes sense. So would you?" There's a good reason I'm calling Brent, and not Zoë; he and Sam first started dating about a month after Ash and I became official. If Brent says 'yes', then I might have to re-think thinking that Ash is just crazy and afraid of losing me. If he says 'no', then I'll probably stop second-guessing myself and just say whatever comes to mind.

    Brent is silent for a few beats, like he's thinking over his answer, which is fairly out of character for him. Usually, he has a quick, sometimes witty, response almost instantaneously. The thought that he's actually thinking about this leaves a heavy feeling in my chest. I was right; this is serious. "Why?"

    "Why what? Why would you ask her to marry you?"

    "No. Why are you asking? What's going on?" Brent's tone switches from 'confused' to 'pissed and overprotective' as the light bulb clicks on in that head of his. Yet again, I can easily imagine his expression; jaw tense, eyes narrowing as images of God knows what flash through them. "Don't tell me you're married; I'll kill him."

    I almost laugh at the thought of Brent, a string bean about three inches shorter and thirty pounds less muscled, trying to fight with Ash, but now's not the time. Also, there isn't a doubt in my mind that he'd try, if he thought Ash had either hurt or married me.

    A strange combination, but Brent's a strange guy. That's why, instead of laughing, I let out a short chuckle, and shake my head as though he can see me. "No, no! God, no!"

    "Then why are you asking?"

    "You and Sam have been dating since, like, September, right?"