by TJ Klune
“I can’t believe you’re making sense. That’s absolutely right, Mr. Tiberius. Let us begin. Connectivity issues. Is your desktop or laptop turned on?”
“Oh gee. Would you look at that. It wasn’t. That solved everything!”
“Really?”
“No. I’m not stupid, Mitzi. Of course my laptop is turned on!”
“….”
“Mitzi!”
“Sorry about that moment of silence, Mr. Tiberius. I had to mute you to… clear my throat.”
“Well. Thank you for not making me hear that. I don’t need to listen as you evacuate your phlegm.”
“Of course, Mr. Tiberius. And your Wi-Fi router is turned on?”
“I… think so? It’s blinking.”
“So you see the little symbol that looks like a globe with lines through it?”
“I do.”
“Is the light on?”
“It is. It’s orange.”
“It should be green. Let me run a test to see if I can get the router to respond.”
“You can do that from where you are?”
“Yes, Mr. Tiberius.”
“So you admit to stalking me!”
“That’s not stalking, Mr. Tiberius. It’s a simple test to—”
“Oh, that’s what you’d like me to believe, isn’t it, Mitzi? That’s what a spy would say. Well, the joke’s on you! I’ve got nothing for you to spy on! I’m an open book!”
“I highly doubt that, Mr. Tiberius. The test is running.”
“I’m taping a piece of paper over the webcam hole on the laptop. That way you won’t be able to see me.”
“That’s not something I can do.”
“Like I believe that. A few months ago I looked up a product on the Internet, and for the next three weeks, all I saw were ads for that same product whenever I got online. I know what it is you people are up to. I’ve read the blogs. It’s called spyware for a reason.”
“It’s actually called adware, Mr. Tiberius.”
“I knew it! You are spying on me! That was a trap, and you walked right into it—oh. The little light turned green. That’s good, right?”
“It is, Mr. Tiberius. I am showing you should be able to connect now. If this problem happens again in the future, you can switch off the router and then turn it back on.”
“Why didn’t you tell me that in the first place? I only have so many minutes per month on my cell phone, and now I’ve wasted at least six on you. What happens if there’s a real emergency and I run the risk of going over my minutes and getting charged an exorbitant amount? Is that something you revel in? Is that what you—I’m online now, Mitzi. I no longer have connectivity issues. You have performed your job as deftly as I’m sure you know how. Rest easy tonight in the knowledge that you’re adequate in this profession you have chosen.”
“I shall sleep deeply at the thought. Is there anything else I can help you with, Mr. Tiberius?”
“No. That will be—wait. Hypothetically, what if there was a demisexual hipster who—”
*Call dropped*
Supervisor note: I followed up with Mitzi to ask why the call was disconnected on our end, given that it’s a Pacific Northwest Cable practice to never hang up on a customer. She said it was accidental, that her finger slipped. I asked why she didn’t call the customer back if that was the case. She laughed and said, “Oh, he’ll call back if he needs something else. He’ll find me. He always does.”
I attempted to call back the customer to apologize and to make sure nothing further was needed, but when I identified myself, the man who answered the phone told me quite vehemently to, and I quote, “Stop stalking me, oh my god, what the hell,” before disconnecting.
Mitzi asked for time off.
I approved it.
Chapter 16
AT 12:57 p.m. on Friday, November 20, 2015, Gustavo Tiberius and Josiah Erickson connected to the Internet after having brief technical issues.
Several tabs were open on Gustavo’s ancient laptop. He attempted to go through and delete each one. He made a strangled noise when a specific tab opened, showing a screen filled with jewelry. Specifically rings, silver and gold and platinum.
“What’s that for?” Josy asked.
“Nothing!” Gustavo said, sounding strangely frantic. He smashed the keys on the keyboard until the tab disappeared. “Research!”
“For what?”
“A—a play I’m writing. Yes, a play that involves a ring of thieves and a heist. Nothing more!”
“Wow. I didn’t know you wrote plays. Can I read it? Can I audition for it? Dude, you have to let me be in your play. That would just be wicked awesome.”
“It’s not—it’s still in its infancy. Hence the research. I might not even write it. In fact, I probably won’t and we should forget about it altogether. It’s for the best.”
“You can’t! You have to write it. I’ve never heard of a play about thieves who steal wedding rings before. Especially wedding rings for men!”
“That’s not what those were! They were just regular rings that anyone can wear for any reason. And you can’t tell anyone you saw it.”
Josy frowned. “Why not?”
Gustavo’s face looked pinched. “Because. Because I don’t want anyone to know that I am potentially considering writing a play about thieves who steal wedding rings—”
“So they are wedding rings—”
“A slip of the tongue! Regular rings! But you can’t tell anyone, because then I won’t write it, and you won’t get to audition for it, and then where would we be?”
“In a bad place.”
“Exactly. So forget you ever saw it and don’t speak a word of it to anyone.”
“Sure, man. If that’s what you want. I got your back, Gustavo.”
“I know. It vexes me. Moving on. This is… delicate. I know it’s going to be difficult to hear, but you can’t believe everything you read on the Internet.”
“You can’t?”
Gustavo shook his head. “No. Imagine my surprise when I figured that out. Apparently people can lie about anything they want and post it online. It’s not regulated.”
“Why would you do something like that?”
“I have no idea. It’s confounding. But thankfully, I found a place that doesn’t lie to you. All it does is give advice. Sometimes the advice isn’t good, but at least it’s honest.”
“Whoa,” Josy said. “That’s crazy.”
“Yes. I know.” He typed into the search bar. A moment later, a website that Josy had never seen before came up. It was bright and colorful and filled with different illustrated links that could be clicked on. One said HOW TO START A BARBER SHOP. Another read HOW TO REMOVE SAP FROM CLOTHES. Still another proclaimed it could teach you HOW TO RELAX BY PLAYING AIR GUITAR.
“What is this place?” Josy whispered.
“It can be overwhelming at first,” Gustavo said almost reverently. “And most of it is pure and utter crap that no one should ever be asking about. Like this one. HOW TO TAME A FULLY GROWN QUAIL. Why on earth would you need to know that?”
Josy shrugged. “Maybe you hit a quail with your car and hurt it and then have to nurse it back to health on your own. And then you name it Dan Quail and you can’t help but care for it, even though you try and fight it. Then you get news from the vet that Dan Quail can never be released back in the wild because it now has a developmental disability due to its injuries. The vet says it would be best to put it down. But then Dan Quail looks at you and you just know you can’t do that. So you keep it, but it’s still wild, so you have to learn how to tame it.”
Silence. Then, “My question was rhetorical.”
“Oh. My bad, man.”
“Yes. I’m positive it was your bad. As I was saying, a lot of this is unnecessary, but some of it can be helpful if you know what you’re looking for. You just have to ask the right question.”
“Really? That’s badass. It’s like one of those Magic 8 Balls. What shoul
d we ask it?”
“What do you want to know?”
Josy thought hard. It only took a moment for him to think of the question he needed to ask. He leaned forward until his face was inches from the screen. “How do I know if I’m already dating someone?”
He waited.
Nothing happened.
Gustavo shoved his head away. “You have to type it.”
“Oh. Sorry.”
Gustavo muttered something about useless people under his breath as he typed on the keyboard. He hit Enter with a flourish.
The top of the screen said HOW TO KNOW IF I’M ALREADY DATING SOMEONE.
And underneath: 0 RESULTS.
Josy’s shoulders slumped. “Aw, man. That sucks.”
Gustavo looked surprised. “That’s never happened before.”
“It’s okay. I guess there’s not an answer for everything, you know? Thanks for trying, though.”
Gustavo glared at the laptop. “You can’t give up! Not yet. We just didn’t phrase the question right. You like him, right?”
“Yeah, dude. Like, so much. I didn’t even know how much until the website told me it couldn’t help me. Now it’s all I think about.”
“That was ten seconds ago.”
“I know, right?” Josy groaned. “I don’t even know if he likes me back. I mean, I could ask him, but what if he says no? I’m fragile, Gustavo.”
“You’re not fragile. You would survive. Even if he said no, you would still be his friend because you’re a good person.”
“Thanks, dude.”
“I told you not to call me that. Didn’t he ask you on a date?”
Josy shrugged. “That was before we even knew each other. Maybe he doesn’t like me that way now that he knows me.”
“That’s certainly possible.” Gustavo perked up. “That’s it!” He typed on the keyboard and hit Enter.
“Oh man,” Josy breathed once he saw what was on the screen. “Jackpot.”
HOW TO TELL IF A GUY LIKES YOU BACK
Isn’t this a pickle to be in, right, ladies and gentlemen? There’s this guy, and he makes your stomach feel all swooshy and you get sweaty in the backs of your knees at the very sight of him. Congratulations! You have a crush. Or maybe it’s past that and you’re into the land of Full-Blown Feelings. It’s a great place to be, but does he like you back?
Here are some surefire ways to find out if he shares the same feelings for you. Remember, if he doesn’t, that’s okay! There is someone out there who will like you for everything you are. But if you find out that he does, make sure you read the companion guide HOW TO TELL SOMEONE YOU HAVE FEELINGS FOR THEM for examples on how to nab yourself the person of your dreams!
BODY LANGUAGE
Men can be mysterious and fickle creatures. Fortunately, they can also be rather obvious in their desires. Sometimes it’s as simple as noticing an erection. Other times it might be subtler, in that they won’t stop staring at you and licking their lips.
Body language is important to finding out if he likes you back. Interestingly enough, body language experts believe that women have over fifty body language tells to indicate interest, while men have only ten. While this might not be backed by a factual scientific study, it’s still something to consider. If this is something you believe, it’ll make things easier.
However, if someone does appear interested based upon the suggestion below, it doesn’t mean they are actually interested. This is but one part of a whole. If someone tells you no, then you must accept that. If you think you might have a problem with that, there is a guide for you called HOW TO NOT BE CREEPY that should be able to help.
Now, for some examples of body language that could indicate interest, consider the following:
—Where does he look when you’re together? Do you find him watching you? When you glance at him and catch him, does he raise his eyebrows slightly? If so, this is known as “the eyebrow flash.” He might not even be aware that he’s doing it. It’s a body’s natural reaction to show interest. It lasts only a fifth of a second, so you have to know what to look for.
—Does he make a lot of eye contact? And if he does, does he also lean toward you when doing so? Maintaining eye contact and leaning into your personal space could be a sign of feelings involved. Be careful, though, because it could also be a sign of failing vision and hearing, and he’s leaning toward you in order to see and hear you better.
—Check to see how he’s sitting. Does he sit with his legs spread? Does he stand with his hands on his hips? These are considered to be “manly gestures” and indicate he is trying to impress you. If he points his pelvis toward you, he’s definitely probably potentially interested.
“WHY ARE you staring at my grandson?” Roger whispered. They were filming a scene that happened toward the end of the movie, with Dante returning to the Eagleton house unbeknownst to Liam. John Eagleton was about to pass, and Liam had found peace with it. His father’s stories were true, and Liam had helped to save Boris and Dill and Mr. Zucko and put Grady back in his rightful place as the ruler of the forest. It was slightly bittersweet because Liam knew where he belonged, and it wasn’t with Grady. It was with Dante.
Josy wasn’t quite sure he understood what was happening in the movie, but he trusted his director.
Whom he had been staring at for the past hour as Quincy worked with Mason Grazer outside the B and B, filming his arrival back at the house.
“I’m trying to see if he angles his pelvis toward me,” Josy told Roger. “And flashes me with his eyebrows.”
Roger coughed. “Come again?”
“I’m working on it,” Josy muttered. It wasn’t going so well today. He’d been given the tools, but he wasn’t sure quite how to use them. Quincy had been focused on the scene at hand and hadn’t really even so much as glanced at Josy for at least four minutes. Josy didn’t know what that meant.
“You know he’s special,” Roger said quietly.
Josy finally tore his gaze away from Quincy to look at the man beside him. Roger had a fond expression on his face as he watched his grandson. His lipstick today was bright green. It was rather lovely, in an assault-on-the-senses kind of way. “I know.”
Roger nodded. “I’ve always thought so. He was…. It was difficult raising him. I wasn’t prepared. His mother was always so independent. And then I had this child who was like painted glass. Beautiful but fragile, even more than I expected. I didn’t know if I could do right by him.”
“But you did,” Josy pointed out.
“That’s because you fight with everything you have for those you love. I saw I was losing him and—has he told you? I don’t want to speak of things that aren’t mine to tell.”
Josy swallowed thickly. “About the guitar.”
Roger sighed. “Yes. That damnable guitar. It hurt when he told me. It hurt me down to my very soul. Here was this… this child, this little boy having thoughts no little boy should ever have. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it sooner. I shudder to think if I hadn’t seen it at all.”
“But you did. And he knew enough about himself to tell you.”
Roger patted Josy’s hand. “That’s true. And I knew then I’d been given a precious gift. I promised myself that I would treasure it forever. Oh, would you look at that. We seem to have captured some attention.”
Josy looked back out at the front of the house.
Quincy was heading toward them.
“He’s pointing his pelvis at me,” Josy whispered excitedly.
“Well, yes. That’s what happens when people walk toward you. Funny how that works.”
Before Josy could reply, Quincy climbed the steps to where they sat on the porch. He grabbed an empty chair and pulled it until it was in front of them. He sat down, his knees bumping against Josy’s. He didn’t try to move away. He ran a hand through his hair and looked at Josy, making eye contact.
His eyebrows rose slightly.
Josy could barely breathe.
The e
yebrow flash.
“What are you guys talking about?” he asked. “You look serious.”
Josy couldn’t speak. Quincy sat back in his chair, legs spreading slightly so that Josy’s own legs were trapped between his. And then, just as soon as his back hit the wood of the chair, he sat forward again, leaning toward Josy, hands dangling between his legs.
“Whoa,” Josy breathed.
Quincy squinted at him. “What?”
Josy shook his head. “Um. Hi?”
“Oh boy,” Roger said.
“Okay?” Quincy asked.
“Sure,” Josy managed to say. If he was being honest, he had somehow managed to convince a small part of himself that the Internet was a liar. But here, right in front of him, was potential evidence that it could quite possibly be right.
Eye contact? Check.
Invasion of personal space? Check.
Eyebrow flash? Check that shit.
Directional pelvic interest? Check to the motherfucking check.
“Why are you staring at my pants?” Quincy asked. “Do I have something on them?”
Oops. Josy looked up sharply. “I wasn’t staring at your pelvis!”
Roger coughed roughly.
Quincy’s eyebrows rose again. For almost three full seconds. “You weren’t staring at my pelvis.”
“Nope! That would just be weird! Ha ha, why would anyone do something like that?”
“Right,” Quincy said slowly. “Are you okay?”
“Mostly,” Josy said. “My armpits are suddenly sweaty and my mouth is dry, but other than that? Super good.”
“Uh-huh. Well, if it’s okay with you, I’d like to borrow my grandad for a moment. I need help setting up this shot. I can’t get it like I want it.”
“And as acting director of photography, I should love to do nothing more,” Roger said. “I’ll meet you out front shortly. Why don’t you keep Josy here company while I fetch my scarf?” He hummed under his breath as he turned his wheelchair around and went inside. “Oh, and Josy!” he called back over his shoulder. “Remember what I said. You fight. You never stop, because it’s always worth it.”
