“Ohhhhhh, well I guess that makes your uncle the fag on Pear Lane I’ve heard so much about.”

Vronsky moved fast, his fist cocked and ready to pound on the homophobic guy who dared besmirch his uncle’s good name, but the dude easily ducked the blow. He doubled over and bellowed with laughter. Confused by the familiar sound, Vronsky turned to find the guy smiling and holding his arms out wide.

“Damn, bruh! I punk’d you good, son. You shoulda seen your face. I’m surprised smoke didn’t come out of your nose like that cartoon dragon you loved so much. What was his name, again? Toothy?”

“Toothless,” Vronsky corrected him. He shook his head in wonderment. He was so focused on his quest to see Anna, he hadn’t recognized Murf, one of his old teammates from when he played Little League in Greenwich. “What the fuck, Murf! The last time I saw you, you were the size of Kevin Hart but now you’re as tall as Draymond Green!”

“Yeah, I grew. But I’m only six-three, my boy Green is six-seven.”

The two boys embraced in a good old-fashioned bro-hug.

“Sorry I didn’t recognize you,” Vronsky said, feeling a bit humiliated that he had name-dropped his uncle like a d-bag. “It’s been a long time.”

“Too long, City Boy,” Murf replied. “Let’s go catch up over a cold one, aight? And before you tell me you can’t ’cause you gotta ‘hashtag: go see about a girl,’ Anna left five minutes before your goldilocks ass darkened my stable door.”

Ten minutes later the two were sitting on bales of hay drinking ice-cold tall boys like Wild West cowboys. Murf and the other Staugas Farms workers hid a big cooler filled with beers for when they needed a break from “the rich twatches we work for,” as Murf so eloquently put it. Murf tipped an imaginary cowboy hat at Vronsky. “When I say rich twatches, know that I ain’t talking about your boo, Anna. She’s not like the others. She’s everyone’s favorite. Hell, I’ve got kin in Buffalo where it’s cold as a witch’s tit in winter and I’m pretty sure she’d melt the whole damn town in January with that smile of hers.”

Vronsky raised his can in agreement. As much as he was dying to talk about her, he knew he needed to be careful with what he said about Anna and who he said it to.

“Aww man, you catchin’ feelings for her? ’Cause you know she couldn’t be more taken. Spill the tea.”