Page 23 of Hilarina and the Ogre

“She’s responsible for this. If I accept her offer—”

“And for the rest of the year have her around while I’m with you? Don’t. I’ll buy the books. Don’t make me share you with her.”

Hilary had to ask. And it wasn’t because of the condoms or the spray paint. “Do you—” But he had no idea how to make the words come out. How did you form words like that? And say them out loud?

But Trenton knew what he was asking. “So to be in your life I have to want to fuck you? Is that it?”

The boy didn’t shout the words. His voice was even as always. But he was angry, and it frightened a weenie like Hilary to hear it. Even knowing the anger wasn’t directed his way, and that Trenton was the only person in school who cared about him, it was frightening. “It’s just that you’re nice. You’re too nice to me. And the things you say. No one else says things like that.”

“Yes, they do.”

“In books, but not—”

“I’m not going to be an asshole just to fit your notion of friendship. I finally found you. You don’t know how long I’ve been waiting to find you.”

That was just more evidence against the boy. Trenton could have grabbed him by the face and shoved his tongue down his throat, and it wouldn’t have been more shocking to Hilary than those words were. But Trenton still wasn’t done.

“People like me—we don’t get chosen. We live our quiet lives just trying not to take up space, hoping to get through each day so we can disappear into a book by the end of it. But you chose me. When you came to talk to me, and when you asked for help with the math. You didn’t mean for it to become anything. But what else could I do? I had to try. With you—because it was you—I had no choice but to try.”

Hilary’s eyes were prickling. It was the words, yes. Words he’d never heard in his life. But also the tone. Trenton was still calm, or trying to be, but it was like he’d spent the whole morning reading aloud; his voice was hoarse with it.

Hilary was forced to look down, unable to meet that earnest expression head-on. “I’m ordinary. I’m so ordinary, Trent. I’m not even smart, why would you—”

Trenton hugged him, though it was more accurate to say he grabbed him, those arms like a vise. “I wanted this,” the boy said, meaning the embrace, “I wanted to do this since the night of the party.”

That was impossible to believe. “While we were sorting through the garbage?”

“When you offered the trade. To teach me while I taught you.”

So even earlier, then.

“But that was selfish,” Hilary objected. “I needed you more than you needed me.”

“I’ll always need you.” Trenton’s face was in his shoulder, a little muffled, but not enough to obscure the words.

It left Hilary helpless, his hands raised, hovering there at the boy’s back. “This isn’t normal. What you’re saying—whatever’s happening—”

“And you want to be normal, do you? Because you were enjoying it so much. Your girlfriend and your fake friends.”

It came again—that urge to hit him. No, not hit him. Hilary wasn’t sure what it was, but it made his hands clench, and finally, finally, he was able to grab hold, his fingers crushing Trenton’s shirt in his hands. “I’m not worth it. You’re going to see. You’re going to be so embarrassed when you wake up and realize.”

“Then let me be embarrassed,” Trenton said. “I promise you’ll be waiting longer than I will.”

“Fuck you. If life were that easy—”

“But it is easy, Hilary. Even making your parents like me was easy, and parents never like me.”

“You haven’t ever tried to make other parents like you.”

But Trenton was selectively hearing again. “It’s not being with you that’s hard. I hated it at work this weekend, and I thought the bookstore was my home. It’s the only job I’ve ever liked, but I wanted to be with you. I wanted to be teaching you the math you hate so much.”

“You shouldn’t care like this.” Hilary felt an urgency underneath all of it. A feeling of tilting, like choices were happening. Things he couldn’t name. “It’s abnormal to care this much and this quickly. You’re sick.”

“And I’m the only one, am I? The only one who’s sick?”

Hilary did hit him then, shoving at him to try and break free, but Trenton wouldn’t let him go. “You find me easy, too. Easier than I did. I was aiming for you, Hilary. Thinking about you since I saw you in the studio this summer. But you—you just fell into it, adapting your life around me like you’d always meant to do it.”

It was an accusation too difficult to face and impossible to refute. He didn’t try. “What time in the studio?”