Page 17 of Bean
We were supposed to do a game night tonight, as it was Tameron’s turn to pick an activity, and he loved board games. But during dinner, we’d had a conversation—obviously, I couldn’t remember about what—and Tameron had quoted something from this movie. Something about being stuck in a corner?
I’d had no clue what he was referring to, as usual, courtesy of my upbringing, and Tameron had insisted we watch the movie instead. So here we were, watching the movie—with the captions Tameron needed—and I took notes of scenes I liked. I had a specific notebook for pop culture stuff, where I wrote down summaries of books I’d read, movies I’d seen, or music I’d listened to. Things that were completely normal for anyone else, but were still special to me.
Heck, I hadn’t even listened to anything other than worship music before I joined the Army. That had been an education, let me tell ya. Some of the guys had made fun of me, but others had taken pity on me and helped me discover all the different kinds of music. And over time, I developed a taste. I liked rock and blues, but pop, not so much. I loved U2 and Coldplay but wasn’t a fan of Michael Jackson, Madonna, or Lady Gaga. Whitney had the best voice of all time, though I loved Aretha Franklin too.
Most of that knowledge had stuck after my brain injury, but I hadn’t had a lot of opportunities to watch movies and TV series while on active duty, so I still had a lot of catching up to do there. I had a whole list of what the other guys had dubbedCulturally Relevant Movies and TV Series, and I was working my way through it one by one.
I probably wouldn’t be anywhere near done by the time I was old and gray, but whatever. It was fun, and it gave me something to do and a sense of accomplishment, which was a reward all in itself. Feeling accomplished wasn’t easy with a brain like mine, so I would take my dopamine hits where I could get them.
Funny enough, I seemed to remember movies and books better than events that happened in real life. Like, I could probably tell you two days from now whatDirty Dancinghad been about, but I wouldn’t be able to tell you what I had for dinner. It made little sense to me. But then again, my brain had stopped making sense a long time ago.
“Pay attention, Bean,” Tameron said. “The scene everyone always mentions is coming up.”
I leaned forward, my eyes glued to the massive TV screen. Baby was sitting with her parents while her sister and some others sang some awfully cheesy song. Oh wait, there was Johnny. He was so hot in his leather jacket…
“Nobody puts Baby in a corner,” he said, and off they went onto the stage. What a perfect line.
Shucky darn, they were going to dance, weren’t they? Yup, cue the music. I watched, mesmerized, as they performed their dance routine. They looked amazing together. Oh, and now she didn’t giggle when he trailed his hand along the side of her breast. Progress. But would she be able to do the lift?
One slightly awkward group dance later, with Patrick leading the pack, and I had my answer. “Aw…” I sighed out loud as he lifted her high above his head. “That was perfect.”
As the credits started rolling, Tameron turned off the TV. “An absolute classic.”
“So the line about Baby in a corner, that’s the one, right?” Tameron nodded, and I made a note of that in my book. “Any other lines that are often quoted?”
Nash chuckled. “Personally, I like the ‘I carried a watermelon’ line because it’s so adorably awkward.”
“You mean like something I would say,” I joked.
Nash’s smile widened. “If the shoe fits…”
I shrugged. “Adorably awkward isn’t that bad of a label, so I’m good with that.”
“Dude, you don’t want girls to call you adorably awkward.” Tameron shuddered overdramatically. “That’s not gonna get you any.”
“Get me any what?”
“Sex. Girls don’t have sex with guys who are adorably awkward.”
“I don’t think that’s true.” Nash looked pensive. “They may not be the first obvious choice, but girls do like to date them. I mean, Hugh Grant’s whole movie career is based upon the archetype of the adorably awkward guy.”
“A what guy?” Tameron asked.
Nash turned his face so Tameron could see his lips better and repeated himself.
“Yeah, but he’s handsome,” Tameron protested.
I tapped Tameron’s shoulder for him to look at me, then crossed my arms. “Are you saying I’m not?”
Tameron sighed. “That’s not what I meant. And also, can I point out that I’m not the one to ask? It’s not exactly my area of expertise. You should ask our resident gay guy, First Sergeant Nash, here. Or our newfound bisexual expert, Creek.”
Creek snorted. “If you’re looking at me for opinions on which guys are hot, you’re shit out of luck. My list is short and contains only one name.”
“Me,” Nash deadpanned, and that had me in stitches.
“Who’d put your ugly old mug on their shortlist of hot guys?” Creek fired back.
“Your brother, that’s who,” Tameron said, and Creek and Nash froze. Tameron feigned innocence, looking all bright-eyed. “Was it something I said?”