Now now now now now now now now now now now now

"What time is it? Did Scott already go to bed?" you ask Dex after taking a moment to mull over what he said.

He shakes his head. "It's only like ten. He's in the other room probably drinking some water. I admit we're both pretty buzzed on those mojitos by now. Why?"

"Did you really mean I can choose? Can you guys just tell me now?" you ask hopefully.

Dex looks so far past dispirited at this request that you almost walk it back entirely, except for the fact that you've been waiting for so many months to know the story behind their whole stupid deal lately. "I guess we figured you'd want to wait till tomorrow at least," he says, in a sort of small voice that barely even sounds like him.

You reach for his hand, and he lets you take it, but he seems so down about the whole thing that you're a little taken aback. After you give him a squeeze he lets go of your hand and gets up. "Do you want to go in there? Or us come in here?"

You look at the bed and decide it's not big enough for all three of you if anybody's not in a cuddling mood. "I can go in there."

Dex nods and offers you a hand up, then lets you steady yourself before going into the other room. You consider putting on real clothes, decide not to because of the sunburn, and grab a blanket, since the aloe is mostly dry now. Then you follow Dex into the front room where Scott is sprawled on one end of the couch with his feet propped on the table. "Hey, Bridgy."

You give him a little wave and curl up on the other end of the couch with your knees tucked up to your chest and the blanket pulled around you.

"She wants us to tell her the thing now," Dex says in a flat tone.

Scott looks as unpleasantly surprised as Dex did. "Oh. Uh. The fun thing?" he asks. "Or... the other one?"

"What do you think?" Dex says, then immediately catches himself. "Sorry. That came out shitty. I didn't mean that. The other one. Not the fun thing."

"Oh." Scott looks a bit glum too.

You can tell both of them are hoping you'll change your mind... but you steel your resolve because you just want to know so you can all get started putting whatever the fuck it is right behind you. You have no idea whether spilling about their big secret doomy-doom thing will make anything better, but you'll cross that bridge when you get there.

"Want another drink?" Scott asks Dex. "I'm going to have one."

"Yeah. I do. Thanks." Dex sits in the chair next to the couch and stares at the floor while Scott goes into the kitchen.

"Come on, Teddy," you try to coax him. "You'll feel better. Don't they always say, 'the truth will set you free?'"

"Set you free from your only real friend, maybe," he mutters darkly.

It's impossible even trying to picture something that would make you be done with him forever in this way he's alluding to. "Whatever it is can't be that bad, right?" you try again.

He doesn't answer, and you give up, hoping you aren't doing the wrong thing to demand they do this right now.

But. They did offer. And you've been accommodating them a long time with this bullshit. It's time. It's been time.

When Scott comes back with the drinks he sits back down on the couch opposite you, more upright this time than when you came in, and exhales big, puffing his cheeks out with a sort of, oof, expression. "Did you warn her she's going to be probably upset?" he asks Dex.

"Yep."

"And you told her we wanted to stay the rest of the trip so maybe it's better to have a nice time like she wanted and save the crappy part for the very end?" Scott asks hopefully.

"Yep." Dex takes a long drink, then stares into the glass.

"Whose part first?" Scott asks.

"Let her flip for it, I guess," Dex says, with nothing but disconsolation in his voice. He gets into his pocket and tosses you a quarter, which you barely manage to catch in midair, then pulls his feet up into the chair with him, making himself physically smaller to go along with his general despondence. "I was gonna give you that one anyway."

"You want yours to be heads, or tails?" Scott asks him, seeming to understand exactly why Dex would feel so terrible about whatever it is, and making no effort to talk him down or reassure him that it won't be as bad as he thinks.

"Tails," Dex says without looking up at either of you. "Let it fit what an ass I am."

For the first time you're starting to feel a little nervous about this. What could possibly be so bad? But no matter what, you're still better off knowing. Right?

You look down at the quarter in your hand. It's a Kansas quarter. You like the bison on these, which is why Dex picks them out for you when he sees them. Now or never, you guess. You flip the quarter in the air with your thumb, catch it, and smack it down on the back of your wrist before taking a peek.

Tails.