Chapter Seventeen
Back on J.D. Becket's front porch, Charleston's fingertips tapped a drum riff onto the glass. J.D. appeared in the doorway, showered and presentable. A clue.
“Hey dude,” said Charleston about to move forward.
“Yeah wassup?” J.D. stood immobile in the half-open doorway.
“You up for a new installment?” Charleston shrugged, but J.D. remained fixed.
“Ahhh. I can't right now. Florida's—”
“She came back?”
“Yeah. She back, but she's in one of those, you know.”
“Time of the month?”
J.D. flipped his head around with exaggeration. “It's a long fuckin' month.”
“Huh.”
“She doesn't want me back on your show. She worried I'm gonna talk about her, or—”
“So don't talk about her.”
“I know right? But it's like.”
“What?”
“Haha.” J.D. flailed his long hair. “It's funny actuall
