“Youwere gonna watch a movie?” I raise my brows.
“Yeah?”
“Wow, you really hate me.”
He turns around, chuckling. “I thought you were jamming tonight.”
“Yeah, no. Ollie got caught up in something, so we canceled.”
It’s become a routine that we get together and jam once a week. And yeah, I’ve got Seth to thank for that. I probably wouldn’t have done it if it weren’t for him pushing me. But I’m glad he did. I’ve finally started to feel like myself again.
“Well, then…” He squints at me. “You wanna watch my favorite movie?”
“The Hobbit?”
He shakes his head. “I have another one.”
So that’s how I find myself later that night curled up on Seth’s couch, basically bawling my eyes out when the circus people sing about being brave and bruised, glorious and whatever. It’s a great fucking movie. I love Hugh Jackman—Wolverine was my favorite when I was a kid.
I glance at Seth, who’s smiling from ear to ear.
“Did you like it?” he asks, eyes gleaming.
I squint at him. “Not cool, man. Not cool.”
“What?” He laughs.
“Who gatekeeps like this?” I smack his arm. “This is your favorite movie, and you’ve waited six years to show it to me? That’s fucked up.”
“I didn’t know what you’d think of it,” he shrugs.
That’s a lie. He didn’t know what I’d think ofhim, if I knew a musical is his favorite movie. And I fucking hate that. That he thinks I’d think less of him if I’d known.
Sometimes it hits me, what he told me about high school, and the bullying. And I get this rage fit, like I want to hit something. And sometimes, I go home and down to the basement and punch the bag down there so hard, my knuckles go all red and sore.
“So, that box out there,” I say, nodding at the hallway. “What’s in it?”
“What box?”
“The anal toys box.” I cock a brow.
“Oh,” he says, glancing down, scratching his eyebrow. “Uh, not anal toys?” He makes it sound like a question, and I don’t know if he’s shy about it—he shouldn’t be. I’m curious as hell. But something set him on edge all of a sudden.
“So, what’s in it?”
He bites hit bottom lip. “Remember I told you I’ve got a box full of clothes? Like, these pants and… Stuff?”
“Yeah?” I press my tongue to my cheek. He raises his eyebrows, glancing towards the hallway.
“Can I see them?”
“The clothes?” he clarifies with a frown.
“Yeah? Or whatever else’s in the box.”
He scratches his eyebrow again. Like he’s debating with himself. Then he takes a deep breath. “Okay.”
He gets up to get it, putting it on the floor in the living room and hesitates a second before opening it up. It’s not even half full. Like, two pairs of pants, some tops, and a photo album orsomething. He takes the album, putting it behind him. So, that’s off limit, I guess.
