Chapter 7

Gone.

* * * *

“Fuck you!” I yell at Adam. “Fuck you and your fire-red briefs! Fuck your hairy chest! Fuck your handsome face! Fuck your awesome looking shoulders! Fuck everything about you!” I don’t have too much to drink. The Jack doesn’t speak for me since I’ve only had two shots. I’m ready to bash him in the face or break one of his ribs. I’m ready to throw him into the fire that separates us at his camp next to Ottawa Pond.

“What are you talking about, man?” Adam walks around the fire and faces me, man to man. The look on his face tells me that he’s confused. He probably believes he handles his whiskey better than I do, but I’m not drunk. Honestly, I’m not.