Blizzard Ch. 25

How much of that fight was left inside her? Should I call it a night? I know Alex wouldn't like it if I tapped out and gave Team Girlfriend the reflexive win. If she knew it stopped Sam from taking all of this on, Alex would be hugging, happy, and healing in a heartbeat.

"You're first, Gene," Sam declared. She was determined. I nodded.

"Three, railroad," I said. The goal of the game is to have your team identify which of the strange amalgamated pictures matched your colors on a grid only the clue-givers see. One of those pictures leads to your team losing the round. Mine were obvious. I slapped our blue tiles.

"And now Team Girlfriend crushes Team Penis!"

"Please don't," Doug smiled.

"Take that, Penis!" Alex giggled, and threw aggressive gang gestures across her chest and across the table.

"We didn't even get a tile yet, Alex. Maybe taunt when we're winning?" Sam frowned. She took a deep breath. "OK, um, two, navy."

There was an anchor and a sailor on the board. I smiled. Obvious.

"It's the sweater and the anchor." Alex swayed into Max. "You know that awesome navy sweater she has?"

"Of course I do," Max smiled. "I borrowed it on New Year's, remember? But she said navy."

"Right, the anchor and the sweater. The army and the color." Alex beamed.

"The army and navy are branches of the armed forces. The navy isn't an army," Sam said.

"No extra hints now," Doug smiled. Sam took a deep breath.

"Yeah, quiet down," Kent smirked. Sam glared at him. I bumped her near hip and reached across her back to rub her far one. She leaned her head on my shoulder.

"I'm saying anchor," Max tried to reach and point for the sailor.

"Anchor! Final answer!" Alex shouted. Max nodded.

"One, red," Sam's excitement sounded relieved. I dropped their tile on the board.

"And the sweater," Alex was about to point.

"That one is striped," Max tried to say, "but Sam's isn't."

"They both have those same v-necks," Alex argued.

"They do," Max looked down at her boobs. Her sweater didn't have that cut. She looked at me. She wished it did. I smiled.

"Sweater! Final answer!" Alex erupted in glee.

"Max-"

Doug caught my eye and shook his head. "This is a Team Girlfriend thing."

Sam's shoulders were trembling and her jaw was crooked. Her eyes were wide. She was an easy read. Max was looking at Alex.

"You're sure?" Max pushed.

"That's our guess!" Alex smirked and knitted her fingers behind her head as she reclined.

"The sweater," Max looked up, "final answer."

"There's a sailor! Right there!" Sam barked as I laid down the black Team Girlfriend Loses token.

"And Team Penis is king!" Kent laughed at the three girls. It was mean-spirited. Doug winced, and touched Kent's shoulder, then made a "stop that shit, you dumbass" gesture.

I rubbed Sam's shoulders. I was about to call it a night. She was steadying herself.

"Christ, Alex. Did you see the sailor or did you want to lose?" Max's face twisted from serenity to wrath.

"But you backed me up?" Alex frowned.

"And you? 'Navy'? You're always pulling our words apart and telling us what we meant to say. Boats? Ships? Anything Alex wouldn't go off the deep end with?"

"It was a good clue," Sam insisted, and shrank in on herself a little. "Right, Gene?"

"Yeah, ask the guy with the answer key, Sam." The window rattled. Max draped her arm over her chair and leaned back, thrusting her tits upward and out. She lidded her eyes as sexily as she possibly could. Her voice turned low and eager. "Not like you'd ever have anything you wanted without his permission."

Sam inhaled sharply through her nose, and dug her fingernails into the couch cushions. Her face grew redder as she held her breath. We made eye contact, and she slowly exhaled.

"Excuse me," I told Kent and Doug. Max frowned but she let me take her hand.

"Shit it's cold!" Sam squealed. I pushed her and Max out onto my brother's apartment balcony. I had on a sweater and pants. I was still cold. Max was worse and Sam was unprotected. The wind was whipping wildly and that ran down my temper.

"I can't have this," I said. I was looking at Max. When it had been me or Alex on the chair, everything seemed to wear off in the middle of the day, probably noon. Real noon, not 12:00 Atlantic Standard Time.

"You can have whatever you ask for from me," Max promised. Her face was turning red in the wind.

"I know. What I want is an end to the mean words and sniping," I said. "All you have to do is put on the boots and you'll feel right about Sam again. We'll have to go home now."

"We brought them. They're rolled up in Alex's bag."

"I put them there!" Sam interjected.

"It was my idea, you -" and Max's eyes went wide. "Oh my god! I'm being terrible! I'm being such a bitch! Oh my god. Oh my god..."

I was relieved that they'd planned for this eventuality. We could reset Max's mood 15 feet from here, not 15 blocks. I grabbed Max's wrist. "Take the bag to the washroom. I don't want you tracking everything-"

"I know not to wear boots on the carpet," she huffed at me. I smiled, shook my head, I kissed her.

"Jesus it's cold! Don't get your tongue stuck to her braces." Sam wiped away tears so her eyelashes didn't freeze.

"I had my braces taken off in October! Long before we met Gene, skan-I'm sorry. I'll go put on the boots."

Max dashed back inside. I pulled shivering Sam against me. I rubbed her arms and tightened the embrace to ease the shiver in her bones and the chatter in her teeth. "It's not as easy for you, is it?"

"No," she said. "I felt better to get those mean things out."

"Yeah, and punching and kicking feels better when you're angry. But just letting your feelings fly out and hurt people comes back on you when you cool down."

"And the next time you're angry, your brain expects to let those punches and kicks fly," Sam nodded. "I'll apologize to Alex."

"You know," I said, "I think she's been taking it better."

"'Better' doesn't have to mean 'good'," Sam pointed out.

"No, no it doesn't," I said. "Maybe stop with the wine?"

"I only had the one glass," she said. "I'm surprised Max is still standing, though."

The wind curled up our legs and over our arms. We shivered together and rushed inside.

"He-ey!" Kent smirked at us and waved. "Come have another drink! The cause of, and solution to, all of life's problems."

"That's from the Simpsons!" Alex tittered. She was easily half in the bag, maybe four fifths.

"Things better?" Doug asked me.

"I think, maybe," I said.

"I'm just a little off." Sam frowned. "Gay guys are lucky. No periods."

"Yeah, that's why God made me in his image," Doug said. "I'm going to steal my brother."

"OK," she said. "I'm going to eat a bunch of sweet things and drink more wine."

"Or God made you in her image." Doug grinned. "Try not to let Kent kill your livers."

Sam squeezed my hand and my brother thrust my coat into my chest. We went out onto the balcony. He lit up a cigarette.

"Still smoking?"

"Only a pack a month," he said. "You want to start? Helps calm the nerves, and I'm guessing three girls are a handful."

"An Andre the Giant handful." I nodded. "It's awesome."

"Yeah, they're pretty, affectionate, and volatile," he said. "You don't think it's going to work?"

"It's not going to fail because I didn't do everything I could to make it work," I declared.

He looked me over as he rapidly finished the cigarette. He shot an arm out. I flinched, even though the last time we actually fought was when we were 11 and 13. Too much alcohol. Too much drama. He grabbed my shoulders and hugged me.

"Listen, that kind of fighting. That's sisterly."

"Oh, well, that's good, right? You and me, we'd fight until we were bloody and bruised, and then four hours later we'd be looking for each other to play Mario Kart." I grinned.

"Brotherly isn't the same as sisterly," he countered. "Boys fight to win the fight. Girls fight to salt the Earth so nothing ever grows again. That kind of wasteland is not a place you can live. But sisters do have to live with each other even after the fight."

"I don't follow," I said.

"They need to learn how to fight," he said. "And not like us. And not like you and one of them will."

"Everyone needs to learn that," I said. I was thinking. The wind came but I had already had my sights on Winter.

"Kent wants you guys to take the spare room tonight," my brother said. "He doesn't think you'll all go to bed together. He doesn't believe this foursome thing. That's why he's been digging at Sam all night. He was so surprised it was Max who went off first. He's an idiot. I know you all are together. The girls will pile into that bed with all the excitement and thrill you ask of them. They'll bury their fight until they come out tomorrow."

"Waiting a couple of hours helps burn down the anger."

"Not if you stoke it all night by looking into the face of the girl who made you angry," he said. "Alex has been good all night. Reward her by taking her home and sending the other girls off to cool down."

"Yeah, except Sam and Max are dorm mates."

"Well then, if you're fucked, have a foursome," he laughed. "There's nothing else you can do."

"There might be," I said. I could salt the Earth so nothing grows again.