Page 20 of The Hopelessly Bromantic Duet
I shudder. “Then I am going to teach you about music.”
That’ll be the consolation prize.
8
THIS IS THE PERFECT DIVERSION TACTIC
TJ
Maybe I pissed off the Fates or incurred some spectacularly bad Karma because it’s Sunday night, and Jude and I are not dueling with words over drinks and then with tongues over at my place. We’re wandering through the home decor section of TK Maxx, looking for a shower curtain.
“What about this one?” Jude asks, pointing to a curtain printed with rubber ducks.
Is he for real? Oh, wait. This could be good. Maybe I’ll learn Jude and I don’t see eye to eye on anything, and all my red-hot desire for him will drain away in one shopping trip.
Yes! “We’re not getting that,” I say. “We’re not three.”
“It’s ironic,” he explains.
“No, irony is when I sayThat shower curtain is so nice.”
Judewhips out his phone, taps furiously, then reads, “Ahem.Irony:incongruity between the actual result of a sequence of events and the normal or expected result.” He grabs the curtain and holds it out as if I could somehow miss thosebright yellow ducks. “This shower curtain is the opposite of what you’d think two young blokes would have in their flat.”
“Hold on,” I say, then grab my phone, and pretend to read, “Irony: still the most often misused word in the English language.”
Jude rolls his eyes. “Call it kitschy, then. Will you allow kitschy, Mister Word Police?”
“I will definitely allow kitschy.”
“Great. Then let’s get this shower curtain.”
“No.”
“Don’t you like kitsch?”
I shoot Jude a searing stare. “About as much as I like the irony of living with you.”
He chuckles, almost despite himself. “But we’re still getting a new shower curtain. I am not showering in that travesty of a bathroom with that horror of a curtain. It had about twenty layers of mold on it,” he says, shuddering.
“I’m aware. I’m the one who took it down and tossed it in the trash because you refused to even go in there and touch it.”
Jude presses his palms together. “And I am still so very grateful for your chivalry, roomie.”
I point to a white shower curtain. “How about that one?”
Jude stares at me, challenge in his eyes. “TJ, are you secretly boring?”
“No. I’m openly interesting.”
Jude scoffs, muttering out of the corner of his mouth, “Who gets a white shower curtain?”
“Who cares about the color of a shower curtain?” I ask, and yes, it’s working. We’re bickering. This will douse the flames in seconds.
Jude points at his chest. “I do. And I’m putting my foot down. We’re not getting a white shower curtain. It’s boring witha capital B. I refuse to be boring,” he says, and he squares his shoulders like he’s going to battle on this front.
“I don’t understand how the shower curtain says anything about whether you’re interesting or not. Who cares about the color of the shower curtain?”
“Everyone,” he says.