I’m going to tell you a secret.

Granted, I’m not exactly sure that something qualifies as a secret when 99 percent of the earths population already knows it, but whatever. Let’s just pretend for my sake, ok? Anyway…

Justin Timberlake is stupid. Very, very stupid.

I was perfectly fine with his idea to go fishing at Runners lake. Totally fine with driving because he wanted to drink. Didn’t mind taking off work and losing much needed money, just to spend time with a friend I never get to see. Wasn’t remotely phased by having to bait his hook because he’s secretly a ten year old girl and didn’t want to touch the worms.

However, I am so not ok with the prom queen tagging along, and Justin trying to go all survivor man and shit because of her. Number one, as I said before, Justin is secretly a girl. Bugs and all outdoor creatures turn him into the worlds biggest pussy. But, Barbie shows up, and suddenly he’s fucking captain wilderness. Showing her how to throw the line out, helping her hold the pole. Which is odd really, because I assumed a girl like Lyla would know a thing or two about working a pole.

Ok, yeah… really bad stripper joke, I know. Let’s just forget that happened.

Anyway, the point is, he’s acting like a god damn retard just to impress this chick and it’s pathetic. Even more so, because she’s buying every last bit of it. There’s been a lot of giggling, and hair flipping and all that other stupid shit girls do when they’re trying to flirt.

Part of me almost feels bad that Justin thinks he needs to act like this, and I kind of feel bad that Lyla is stupid enough to think he’s really like this. But mostly, I feel sorry for myself because I’m a witness to this ridiculous bullshit.

And I haven’t even caught one damn fish. I’d say it’s time to call it a fucking day, go home and hang out with my dad, and my dog. Because frankly… they’re way cooler than anybody else I know. I begin loading my gear in the truck and it isn’t until I shut the tailgate that either of them notices I’ve moved from my spot at the edge of the dock.

“B! What are you doing?” Justin yells, a slight slur to his words.

Awesome.

Drunk Justin, contrary to popular opinion, is actually a giant pain in the ass. He’s one of those people who wants to get all philosophical when he’s been drinking, talk about the meaning of life and shit. And he always, always manages to make me feel guilty about something I’ve said or done at some point in my life.

“Going home.” I shrug. I’m hoping that since he’s got Barbie here to keep him company, I can escape pretty easily. Cause lets face it, me here while they’re trying to flirt and shit is way awkward for everyone.

“What? Burke… you can’t leave! I won’t have a ride home!”

“Figured Lyla could take you?”

“I would….but I’ve actually gotta take off myself. I have a job interview.” She smiles proudly and it takes all I have not to roll my eyes.

“See Burke… you have to stay. You wouldn’t make me walk home, would you? Remember that time Kyle pushed you in that nasty ass pond behind the high school? Who drove you home, huh? Who had no problem with your dirty, stinkin ass on their leather seats?”

God damnit. The asshole is good. If ever there were an award for the planets best guilt tripper…

“Alright, well… I’ll see you guys later then.” Lyla rises to her feet and heads for her rental car, smiling brightly at me as she passes.

“C’mon B… let’s catch some damn fish!” Justin grins and pats the now empty space beside himself.

Sometimes, I really do hate this bastard. Almost more than I hate Trace, and believe me… that’s saying something.

I plop down next to him and he quickly downs the rest of his beer. “So… what’d ya think?”

“About?”

“The weather.” He laughs and shoves me. “I meant Lyla, ya dumbass. I think I like her.”

Well… there’s the surprise of a lifetime. Please Justin, tell me more about things I never could have figured out for myself.

“Trust me… you don’t want to hear what I think of her.”

“You sayin you don’t like her or something?”

“Excellent deduction, dipshit.”

“Aww… come on B! You don’t even know her… how can you decide you don’t like her?”

“Let me get this straight… we’ve known this broad the same exact length of time. You know her well enough to decide you like her. Yet, I don’t know her well enough to decide that I don’t like her? You and logic aren’t very good friends, are you?”

“All I’m sayin is… give her a chance. If… ya know, if I decide I really do like her, she’ll be around awhile.”

“Umm… aren’t you leaving in a month?”

“Well… yeah. But that’s not a big thing. Just, be nice Burke.”

As much as I hate admitting it, I am a bit of a sucker for my friends. And, ok fine… there’s a very slight possibility I could be wrong about Lyla, but how the fuck would Justin know that? Then again, Justin is a man. That automatically makes him a god damn idiot. None the less, I will be nice, for his sake.

Unless Memphis Barbie gives me a legitimate reason to want to rip her hair out. Then it’s game over, whether Justin’s banging her or not.

**************************

“You know what would be cool… having some Freaky Friday shit happen.” Justin nods seriously and takes a sip of his beer. “I would totally wanna switch places with Kyle for like… a week.”

“Kyle? What the fuck?”

“Yeah man! Cause like… we’re a lot alike, but you know… he gets to do all this cool shit that I don’t… work on cars… hang out with you… stay here.” He shrugs. “It’d be awesome.”

It’s official.

Justin is fucking hammered. If he starts talking about a car that runs on water, I’m making him leave.

“Who would you switch with?”

“Dunno. I kinda like being me.”

“Well, yeah… you’re awesome B… but, there’s gotta be somebody you’d want to switch places with.”

“Umm… not really. Most people suck, and I don’t, so yeah… I’d stay myself.”

“What about like… Lyla? You could switch with her, and then you’d realize that she’s awesome!”

Not really sure how I didn’t see that coming.

I mean, ok fine… he’s drunk, has no idea what he’s talking about, but still… that was not fucking cool.

Him saying that shit is the same as him saying he wants me to be like Lyla, and why the hell would I want that? From what I’ve seen of her, she’s everything I’ve refused to let myself become, and fuck him if he thinks I’d ever want to be like that.

Or, it’s three in the morning and I’m reading way too much into the ramblings of a drunken idiot.

Gonna go with the latter on this, I think.

“I really, really like her, Burke.” He giggles and shakes his head slowly.

Great.

Apparently today is the day to put on my best friend suit and tell Justin he’s being a moron. I’ve had to do it a handful of times, and it’s never fun for anyone. But, you know… I feel like somebody needs to set his ass straight sometimes.

Trace is a yes man. No matter what Justin says or thinks, Trace agrees with it, and nine times out of ten, it does more harm than good. Kyle is always kind of non-committal when he gives advice, tells you to do what you think is best, and honestly… how the fuck does that help?

So yeah… that leaves me to be the asshole.

“Don’t you think you should get to know her first? I mean, fuck, Justin… you’ve known her for three damn days.”

“B… have you ever actually liked anybody?”

Of course he’d turn this around on me. Of fucking course.

In all honesty, I don’t think I can say I’ve liked someone, or had a crush, or whatever the fuck you want to call it. I was always more interested in working on cars, or hanging out with my dad. The only use I had for boys was to prove I could do whatever they could, and do it better than they’d ever be able to. I never really went into that boy crazy phase most girls go through.

“No.”

“See… you just don’t get it. Sometimes… you just know, and I just… know. I mean… I’m not gonna propose to the chick or anything, I’m not fuckin crazy. I just want to hang out with her and see where it goes. And ok fine… yeah, I don’t really know her, but so what? Why do I have to know all these stupid fucking details? Why can’t I just like being around her? Cause like… that’s what matters, you know? Who gives a fuck if you both like peanuts or some shit? Isn’t enjoying their company more important?”

“Yeah… guess so.”

“I mean… yeah… at some point, you gotta know that stupid shit too, but at first, you have to like being around them, or you’ll never even want to know the other dumb shit.”

“Right. Makes sense.” I shrug and glance at the clock. Fuck… it’s almost four and I have to be up in three hours. His ass needs to go. Now. “You want me to take you home?”

“Yeah… might be a good idea.” He stands up, laughing when he wobbles slightly. “B… you’re good people.” He nods and throws an arm around my shoulders as we head for my truck.

I wish I knew why I’m the one who always gets stuck taking his drunk ass home.

As soon as I pull out of the driveway, he flips on the radio and searches through the stations until he lands on the oldies station. Pretty sure that’s where I’d left it before, but whatever.

“B! This is my favorite fucking song ever!” He damn near squeals and starts belting out the words.

“I’m aware of that." For some stupid reason, that's a fact I've known for years.

“Come on… you gotta sing with me!”

So, here’s a thought. According to Justin, a major part of liking someone is enjoying their company. Another, smaller part of liking someone, is knowing small details about them, followed by having things in common.

There have been several people in my life who fit into those categories, but I never wanted to like…date them. God… I sound like a fucking idiot. I seriously need to stop listening to drunk assholes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I can see Justin bobbing his head to the beat, and singing like there’s no tomorrow.

You know… Justin may be the only person I know who fits all three of those categories.

And if those really are the requirements for liking somebody, I am in a load of fucking trouble.

"(Sittin On) The Dock Of The Bay"- Otis Redding