T minus three months, three weeks, six days

Hey, Jim.
Lucy.
You don’t look too happy.
I was last night.
What changed? Oh.
Yeah.
Well, I’ll see you later?
Yeah.

T minus three months, three weeks, one day

From: D. Lau
To: J. Zeer
Don’t patronise me, man.
And what, you think my life is going to be full of exciting incidents?
I’ll write when something comes through from your brother.
Dan

From: S. Tellegrin
To: J. Zeer
Re: Mrs R.A. Keller
The assistant entrusted with your letter reported the following responses:
At the second paragraph: “beetles”
At the third paragraph: rapidly tapping foot
At the fifth paragraph: “not”
At the sixth paragraph: “do”
At the eighth paragraph: smiling
S.W.T.

From: S. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
Fan-fucking-tastic, bro.
I can do the arranging, but are you sure you want to be that passive? Never really took you for a sub.
Wah… Casey stressed. Not allowing me to relieve him. Bastard. Why am I marrying him again? He’s a manipulative cunt.
Oh yeah. I’m a devious bastard. And I love him.
God, I love him. And he loves me. God… so amazing…
Sam

From: J. Zeer
To: S. Zeer
You really are disgustingly happy, aren’t you? When you can forgive him for denying you ‘rights’, it must be love.
Lucy was being nice to me again. I don’t understand that woman…
I’ve decided I’m currently sufficiently enamoured of surprises that I would like you to continue on the organisational front. If you don’t mind.
Oh boy… the wedding. Not going to make me use that nancy-boy hair-gel you like so much, are you? You better not, bro.
And I’m not a sub. Except when I want to be.
Jim

T minus three months, two weeks, five days

From: A. Jeffers
To: J. Zeer
You absolute bastard.
I’ve started questioning our entire relationship.
How could you do that to me?
I’ve started wondering what you’ve been hiding, when you’ve been hiding, what exactly was going on with you when we were playing one-liners…
I hate you right now, you bitch.
I wrote to Sam to find out when you’re getting here. April, at least, seems excited by the prospect, since she can’t believe she’s never met my oldest friend. But I’m starting to think maybe I don’t know you at all.
Oh well. It’s not like you’re going to be around much longer.
Alan

From: J. Zeer
To: A. Jeffers
Immediate response here, Alan.
Fuck you.
If you were more perceptive you would have gotten it a long time ago so don’t blame me for pointing it out.
More measured response is that I was only messing with your head and anything I haven’t told you doesn’t matter, and there’s lots of stuff about you that I don’t know, but… really, Alan. Grow up.
Jim

Hey, Jim.
Maggie.
What’s up?
You know how I have the letters back? I managed to piss off my best friend from home in one of them.
Well done.
Not like it matters any more. Like he said, not like I’m going to be around much longer. We can pretend for the few days we’ll have together.
This guy an ex of yours?
What?!
Oh, come on, you’re not repressed or something, are you? I’ve seen your eyes drifting more than once.
Don’t you have other customers to hassle?

T minus three months, two weeks, two days

Jim!
What’s up, Lucy?
You done now?
Huh?
Exams…
Oh. Yeah. All done.
Me too.
Great.
So…
So…
Fucking hell. I’m hyper. I need booze. Wanna come watch me drink then drag me back home?
Lucy…
What? C’mon… You need to lighten up. You’re done.
I have work in the morning.
I don’t. So you can be designated driver. Please… I need this, and nobody else that I’ve met is done yet, and I need to get a fucking drink, all right? So would you just quit the stalling and come with me?
I don’t know…
I said quit the fucking stalling. I need to drink. I will not drink alone. You will come with me and if you don’t do something to get my high back right now I will do something highly unpleasant.
Whoa… Lucy… Booze. OK.
All right! Thank you, already, you bastard.

T minus three months, two weeks

From: D. Lau
To: J. Zeer
Sam wrote. I wrote back.
Looks like you’re coming to me for a day then we’re doing a week or so touring. Should be fun. I’m looking into routes, costs, sights etc – anything in particular you want to do?
Dan

From: J. Zeer
To: D. Lau
You take care of it. I trust you.
Jim

T minus three months, one week, five days

Hey, Lucy.
Hey.
You know how we’re meant to be doing Thailand together?
Oh, yeah, got a letter from Sam about that. We’re sorting it.
You know, I’m really not a sub.
I believe you. I have to go see someone, though, so I’ll catch up with you later? Bye.
OK…

T minus three months, one week, four days

From: J. Zeer
To: Mrs R.A. Keller
You want to go somewhere? I mean, I’m going to Iceland with Sam and Thailand with Lucy and the States with Dan… you up for something?
I’m getting pretty antsy about it, actually, because I let them arrange it and now it’s getting closer and I don’t even know what’s going to happen. I don’t like being out of control.
I’m sure you don’t either.
I think I would go for suicide rather than a home. Just saying, that would be my choice, I think. I would have thought you would do that, especially having read your old diary entries, but…
I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m thinking any more. And I don’t have any more class work, so I have all this spare time that I don’t know what to do with, and I end up wandering around and babysitting Lucy while she gets roaring drunk in a really pissy mood which was somehow my fault because she was happy when she started talking to me… I would blame it on PMS if I didn’t know you would both kick my ass for being a sexist pig.
Anyway. Are these inconsequential things good for you? I mean, are these good letters to be writing to you? Just… stuff. Chatter. Babble. Ooh, let’s find synonyms for things… or not. I don’t know.
I can write to your preferences, if you tell me them. Really, I can.
Love you,
Jim

T minus three months, one week, two days

From: Mrs M. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
Son,
Sam told me you’d be coming to visit. He gave me a fairly detailed timetable. There isn’t much time for us. But I suppose that’s all right. We barely saw each other even when you still lived here.
I hope you’re doing all right.
Would you consider, possibly, not swearing while writing to your mother?
You’ll be all right. Just wait. You’ll be fine.
Mary K. Zeer

From: A. Jeffers
To: J. Zeer
All right. Let’s not kill this thing at the very end, all right? Let’s just stay friends, and we can have a good time when you get here, and then once you’re off we can write to each other once in a while, keep updated on the major events if nothing else… let’s not send this down the toilet with one more visit left.
Really, man. You’ve been my best friend since I can’t remember when. And you’re off on this fantastic adventure, and I’m resigned to losing you to it, but I don’t want to find out that you were never really here. Not at this stage in the game.
Alan

Shit. Shit. How do I do this? How do I affect people like this?
Talking to yourself again?
Letters. Joyous.
What’s up?
Mom’s reassuring me and Alan’s… being serious.
Wow.
Yeah.

From: J. Zeer
To: A. Jeffers
We’re friends. We always will be, if I have anything to do about it.
I was there. I really was, man. I was there. I’m here.
Jim

T minus three months, one week

From: S. Zeer
To: J. Zeer
Hey, man
Just to check… you do realise that best man’s duties include not only porn, but also a speech at the reception?
And you know which flight to get. So that’s all right.
See you soon, love.
Sam

One week to go, Jim.
Yeah.
One week till home.
Yeah.
You’re not happy.
Yeah.
You’re not paying attention.
Yeah. Uh…
‘s OK. What’s on your mind?
Um, the wedding. I have to do some kind of speech. But I really don’t want to.
Don’t like public speaking?
Don’t like writing speeches.
Can’t you just do a reading, or something?
No, that’s for the ceremony. This is for the reception. Supposed to be a bawdy speech about the groom’s history, or some such. Slightly harder, since they’re both grooms and since I don’t really have any stories about Sam that he can’t counter with worse ones about me. And he would. Trust me.
So do something heartfelt. May not be traditional but I’m sure it would be appreciated.
Yeah, but you’re a girl.
And you’re a sexist pig, but you don’t see me complaining.
Oh shit. You’re writing to Gran’s new nurse, aren’t you?
What?
Oh, that was only… never mind.
No, tell me, Jim.
I may have made a comment about something I’d written leading you and Gran to think I was…
A sexist pig. It’s a common enough expression.
Yeah.
Would you quit that?
What?
The whole “yeah, yeah” thing. Sounds like distracted… Sounds like you’re totally on autopilot and paying no attention to me whatsoever.
Yeah.
You did that on purpose.
Yeah.
Fuck you.
Yeah.
Yeah?
Yeah.
Some other time.

Oh God. She had said… Jim hastily cut off his train of thought, pacing up and down his room as he tried to get a handle on his thoughts. He had sat staring after her, agape for a few long moments after she delivered that perfect exit line and sashayed out of the bar – sashayed, for fuck sake, she didn’t do that! She walked like a normal person! But no, not this time, ‘cause it’s time for yet another person to start fucking with the mind of James Allen Zeer. He couldn’t decide whether to be turned on, or pissed off, or both. Both sounded easier, but both lead to sore hands, so that might not be the best of plans. Oh shit! That probably counted as self-harm… goddamn. And no way he can say he’s not a sub if he turns out to be a masochist.
She had sounded a little off, though, at the end, as though perhaps she was a little turned-on herself. But then, it was possible to have a totally random sexy thought – it was probably nothing to do with him at all. Though what had she said… “the “yeah, yeah” thing”… oh hell. He knew now what she had been going to say. Distracted porn. He couldn’t help but laugh at himself, despite the way his endorphins were starting to pay serious attention. Perhaps he should just deal with the problem, then think about the speech. Yeah. That sounded like a plan. Yeah.

T minus three months, six days

From: J. Zeer
To: S. Zeer
You have no idea what you did with that last letter… I hate you.
I’m writing a speech, but it probably won’t be what you want – most likely a little too serious. I just… I don’t think I can do your stereotypical thing.
Sorry.
Still, if you want that you can write it yourself and give it to me. All right?
Jim

From: J. Zeer
To: D. Lau
What do you want when you tease someone a little? You want them to react, or… shit. I don’t even know… right, the dialogue went something like “Fuck you” “Some other time” which is just… is it provocative or just a stupid little comment? Shit, can be either, can’t it?
Never mind.
I don’t know what I’m doing here, apart from panicking at the suddenly expanding horizons. So, business as usual then.
Jim

T minus three months, five days

Knock knock.
Oh, hey Jim. What’s up?
You’re packing.
Well, yeah. Not that long to go now.
But… you’re being organised.
I have been known to do that. And I’m on one of the first flights out.
Still. That’s a lot more than I’ve done. Haven’t even tidied properly.
Right. Was there a reason you came, or was it just to distract me?
The second.
Right. Want to help? I’ll reciprocate.
You believe in reciprocity, then. That’s good to know.
I’m just going to ignore that comment in favour of telling you here’s a box, there are some books; take a wild guess.

T minus three months, four days

From: A. Jeffers
To: J. Zeer
We’re OK, man. I’m sorry I freaked out at you. I do that sometimes, you know. I’ll see you when you get here. We’ll be fine. We are fine, as far as I’m concerned. Just need to see you in person to convince us both of that.
There is, for some reason, great anticipation on this side. I don’t understand it myself, but oh well. Be good to see you, boy.
Alan

T minus three months, three days

You really haven’t done anything, have you?
Jesus, Lucy! You scared me! And no, you’re right, I haven’t.
Well, since I came round to help, don’t you think you should?
Well, yeah, but… I don’t really want to.
Too big a job?
Too depressing. It’s yet another place that’ll never be home again.
You can’t stay. You need to do this. Come on. I’ll help.
You will, won’t you?
Yeah. Always.

When Jim decided they were finished for the day, he took Lucy out for a meal to thank her for her assistance – despite the fact that he had given her some unwarranted and unrewarded help previously. He believed in paying debts of this nature before he acquired them. After they ate, he took her to his favourite bar and sat in his usual seat. “This is another place I’ll miss,” he told her as he waited for Maggie to notice him. She nodded from down the bar, and sauntered up, wiping the bar as she came. Jim’s gaze flicked to Lucy’s face, and he was amused to see a calculating expression, somewhat friendly but generally cool and a little disapproving. He should have realised, he thought, that the pair of them wouldn’t get on, but he was committed to this course of action and he could hardly back out now.
Maggie set down their drinks with a smile that was a few points less friendly than the grin she usually gave Jim, but still hung around that end of the bar to chat with him. “Weird, isn’t it?” she said, and he shook his head. “Fuckin’ ridiculous,” he replied. Lucy took a swallow of her vodka and coke, and smiled. “This is fuckin’ perfect,” she told the others, gaining her a genuinely grateful smile from Maggie. “It’s a question of proper mixing,” the bartender told her, “and a drop of lemon juice.” Lucy cocked her entire torso, drawing Jim’s rapt attention, and sniffed at the glass. “I didn’t taste it at all,” she said in a voice of wonderment. “You don’t. It just… does something,” Maggie told her, then snorted slightly at her own eloquence. Lucy leaned onto the bar, smiling broadly. “So, I guess you have lots of barmaid tricks like that,” she commented in a tone that was mostly curious. Maggie placed her elbows squarely on the bar, leaning close to the other woman’s face. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she purred in reply. She glanced at the man still sitting next to them withan incredulously aroused expression on his face, and Lucy followed her gaze then looked back into her eyes, sharing the humour before they both burst into laughter.
Maggie turned to another customer, and Lucy leaned briefly against Jim in apology. He wanted to be annoyed, but he couldn’t quite manage it. And it had given him fantasy material – not that he would tell either of the girls that.

T minus three months, two days

From: S. Tellegrin
To: J. Zeer
Re: Mrs R.A. Keller
The assistant entrusted with your letter reported the following responses:
At the first paragraph: head-shake
At the second paragraph: “anorexia”
At the fourth paragraph: “for you”
At the fifth paragraph: smile
At the sixth paragraph: nod
S.W.T.

T minus three months, one day

Jim!
Hey, uh, haven’t seen you in ages.
Different places, I guess. You ever end up with a decent mailbox?
Had Morale this year – restricted communication.
Oh, God, yeah. I heard about that.
So, what you been up to, Carl?
Oh, this and that, this and that. Going home tomorrow!
Yeah, weird isn’t it? I’m going to my brother’s first, he’s getting married, but…
Yeah. So. We’ll have to meet up when we all come back, yeah?
Sure.

It’s like the summer holidays at school, he thought. Everyone’s packing up to go home but right now they don’t really want to, because all their friends are here, all their routines are geared to this place, and they’re just plain used to it. His own life here was so much more comfortable, so much easier emotionally than life at home, avoiding his mother and old friends and even visiting his grandmother – sitting in the home for an hour or two every week, talking about anything that came into his head, expounding on the virtues of one particular vid as opposed to another, one book, one character, one song, one anything… All the inconsequential chatter and gossip that he had unconsciously collated since his previous visit, spilling out in an attempt to gain some kind of reaction. He was the best at it, of course, but it was still frustrating for him to wonder what exactly Gran thought of him and his life, his opinions, his everything. It seemed, though, that Lucy was good at interpreting as well… There was a thought.

Lucy?
Jim, hey.
You know how we’re doing the Thailand thing?
Yeah.
Well, I… huh. Never mind.
What?
No, it’s…
Tell.
Want to come home with me for a bit? Visit…oh, fuck, I’m stupid.
I live near there anyway.
You live near there anyway. Don’t mind me.
I never do.
That’s… nice. Still, want to do a joint Gran-visit?
I’m going to visit her anyway, Jim.
So am I. So am I, I just thought it might be nice to do a joint one too.
Right.
Really. What, you think I’m… well, I guess that’s fair, given how often I was writing, but I love her and I miss her and I want to see her.
I believe you.
Good. Oh, also, want to see Sam again?
I… wouldn’t mind…
I need a date for his wedding.
Uh-huh.
What, you don’t want to spend a few days on the beautiful beaches of my brother’s home?
It would just be a bit… weird.
Come on, Lucy-loo…
What?!
Sam’s fault. Listen, think about it, OK?
‘Cause I have so much time for that.
You really do.