“He unfolds it every night,” said Nolan, “and talks about how he misses his girl back home.”
“Yeah,” said Santiago. “I need a photo like that.”
I laughed. But I knew what he meant.
“You have to get a girl first,” said Manny.
“And then you take a picture,” said Nolan.
“But not with your phone,” said Manny. “With one of those old-timey cameras.”
“You’re missing the point,” said Santiago.
“Which is?” asked Manny.
Santiago didn’t answer. Instead, he pulled himself off the couch with a sigh and said, “I’m going to bed. See you guys tomorrow.”
“I know what you mean,” I blurted out.
Santiago stopped halfway out of the room.
“I’d really like to have one of those pictures, too.” I turned to Manny. “I’d like to have a girl at home, something, someone waiting for me when I got back.”
“I hear you,” said Manny.
“I think we all feel the same way,” said Taylor. He looked at his brother, Tristan, but Tristan was staring at the floor, seemingly lost in a memory.
“I can just picture us,” said J.P., “overseas, in our bunks, all staring at a photo of a girl waiting for us when our tour was over.”
“Except,” said Elijah, “my girl would be the hottest.”
Santiago walked over to him. He stood over him and stuck out his chest. “Man, why’s everything with you got to be some sort of competition?”
Elijah put his hand up, open palm out. “My bad. You’re right. My girl would be hot, and all our girls would be hot.”
I thought of Gwen, thought of being away on tour, staring at a picture of her with her dimples and crooked smile, a lock of hair falling loosely past her mouth and curling up to touch her chin.
“I know what picture I’d bring with me,” said J.P.
“Who?” asked Santiago.
“You don’t know her,” said J.P. “She works at a cafe by the beach, The Bean Counter.”
“Not Gwen?” I said, a bit louder than I’d wanted to.
J.P. shrugged. “I don’t know her name. Blond, smoking body, athletic.”
“Hair tied back in a loose ponytail?” I said. “Always has hair bands around her wrist.”
“Maybe,” said J.P..
“Five eight,” said Travis. “Fair skin, big blue eyes, dimples.”
“Sounds right,” said J.P..
“Sounds like Gwen,” I said.
“Uh, oh,” said Elijah. “Who’s in competition now?”
“Maybe she’s got a twin,” said Taylor.
“Or a triplet,” said Nolan.
Santiago went back to the couch and took a seat. “Maybe she’s got eight sisters. Maybe she’s part of a nine-uplet.”
“It’s called a nonuplet,” said Tristan.
I chuckled. It wasn’t the first time Tristan seemed to be lost in thought but he still managed to prove that he was following what we were saying. But it was still funny every time.
“They don’t need to be a nonuplet,” said Elijah. “They don’t even need to be sisters. We’re a tight group but not that tight.”
This earned a round of laughs. I thought of Alexa, my sister, and I couldn’t help myself. “I knew this girl once,” I said. “She had eight boyfriends.”
“Damn,” said Elijah. “How long was she able to keep it a secret?”
“That’s just the point,” I said, “it wasn’t a secret. Never. It was an open kind of thing.”
“What?” said Santiago. “They didn’t care that she was seeing other guys?”
I shook my head. “She wasn’t seeing other guys.”
“You’re not making any sense,” said Taylor.
I chuckled. “I don’t know how to explain it. But she wasn’t seeing other guys. She was seeing them, all eight of them. They were like a couple, her and her eight boyfriends.”
“You’re right,” said Santiago, “you don’t know how to explain it.”
“I think I get where you’re coming from,” said Travis. “Imagine if we all had the same girl. She wouldn’t see other guys; she would just see us; and we wouldn’t see another girl, just her. She would be our girl.”
“We all share one girl?” said Elijah, clearly dubious.
“That’s not possible,” said Tristan.
“He’s not being serious,” said Travis. “Just talking.”
“I am serious,” I said, perhaps more defensively than I’d intended. “I mean, like I said, I know this girl. She has eight boyfriends. It’s not a secret. They all share her. And they seem to make it work.”
None of us said anything for a while. We were probably each thinking the same thing: ‘Is that possible?’ ‘Could we share the same girl?’
I thought of Gwen. Then I thought of Gwen in the arms of the other members of the squad.
“You’re right, Travis,” I said. “I was only talking.”
I had planted a seed, though. Later that night, when I was lying in my bed unable to fall asleep, I thought of what Santiago and Nolan had said, about lying in a bunk overseas, staring at a picture of a girl waiting at home for me to return. It wouldn’t be strange that we each had a girl waiting for us to return. But it would be strange if it were the same girl. On the other hand, if Alexa and her crew could do it, why couldn’t we?