great, by the way, how you two have hit it off. Sometimes these things go so badly.”
A piece of chewed food fell out of his mouth and onto his T-shirt. He flicked it off and continued eating.
Zakiyyah started to say something, but Ashton interrupted. “In college, I once went out with a girl who didn’t speak English,” he said, his mouth full of ham and bread.
“Was that before or after drinking?” said Zakiyyah.
“During,” Ashton replied. “Remember her, Jules? Maniki? Correction—Maniki did not speak good English, and that’s much worse than not speaking any English at all. The worst thing a person can be when they’re crap at something is to think they’re good at it.”
“Is that really the worst thing a person can be,” said Zakiyyah.
“Absolutely.” Ashton chewed. “It was one of the longest dates of my life.”
“I wonder how that must have felt,” Zakiyyah said, and Ashton guffawed and turned his attention to Josephine.
“How is Paradise in the Park?” he asked. Josephine smiled, got ready to tell Ashton something about it, but he cut her off with, “I meant, how long’s the play running for?”
“A month. I can get you tickets if you want.”
“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know when, though. Jules and I are supposed to fly down to Cabo for the Fourth. And to be honest, Dante’s not my thing. I prefer more stupid humor.”
“You don’t say,” Zakiyyah said.
“Don’t worry, Ashton, Dante is not that funny,” Josephine said. “Comedy may be a misnomer.”
“Give me a cat tied to a fan or a mediocre fart joke, and I’ll laugh till I cry,” said Ashton. “I’m not proud of it. It’s just how it is.”
Josephine squeezed Julian’s hand under the table. “Cabo?” she asked him quietly.
Julian shook his head, as in don’t worry. Another thing he had completely forgotten.
“So real life hasn’t broken through your little frat party yet?” Zakiyyah asked Ashton, barely turning her head to address him.
“Thank Christ for that.” He barely turned his head when he replied.
“Do you know what Gandhi says?” Zakiyyah said.
Ashton was still chewing. “Are you talking to me?”
“Yes,” Zakiyyah said, her glossy lips tight. “Gandhi says: our thoughts become our words, our words become our actions, our actions become our character, and our character becomes our destiny.”
“Hmm.” Ashton swallowed and loudly slurped his Coke. “Is your intellectual snobbery designed to belittle me? Because thoughts are most certainly not my destiny. I know that for a fact. I’d be in jail for the things I think. But let me tell you what Ashton says. Because you and Julian aren’t the only ones who can rattle off pithy sayings. I have a life hack, too. Want to hear?”
“Do I have a choice?”
“I call it Ashton’s two-minute rule.”
“Ashton, no!” That was Julian.
Unheeded, Ashton continued. “If you see something that needs doing and can be done in under two minutes, do it immediately.” He paused to let the words linger. “I also call it the Ashton Sex Rule.” He threw back his head and laughed.
A baffled Julian rubbed his eyes in the stony silence that followed. What was happening?
When the girls refused to react, Ashton baited them further. “The trouble with Julian and me being friends,” he said, “is that we’re opposites in many ways. Is that the same with you two? I bet it is. For example, Julian thinks he’s all about the funny, while I am way more cool. But to tell you the truth, I’d really like to be both, funny and cool.”
“I teach my kids,” Zakiyyah said, “that it’s always better to be realistic about your limitations.”
“Your poor kids,” said Ashton.
“I, on the other hand, don’t care at all about being cool,” Julian said, springing from the table and gesticulating wildly for the check.
“That’s because Jules can go all day,” Josephine said in a smoky voice. She pulled on his wrist, gazing up at him. “He doesn’t need to be cool.”
“And that’s why,” Ashton said, “Jules is funny.”
“So that was the famous Ashton,” said Zakiyyah, after Ashton—who had insisted on paying—tipped his backwards baseball cap, knocked over a chair, and split.
“He’s all right. No one likes to be put on the spot like that,” Julian said. “We should try again. Do something less stressful.”
“Less stressful than ham sandwiches?”
“We should go to Disneyland,” Julian said. “The four of us.”
Josephine clapped. “Yes, please! That would be fantastic.”
“Never,” said Zakiyyah. “I mean—no, thank you.”
“He wasn’t that bad,” Julian said. “He was trying too hard.”
“That was trying?”
Julian got defensive. “Look, it’s not how he is.”
“We are what we pretend to be,” the grim young woman said, “so we must be careful what we pretend to be.” She glared at Josephine, who took Julian’s hand under the table and did not return Zakiyyah’s scolding gaze.
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