Page 47 of Hilarina and the Ogre

“To cheat on you, probably.”

Trenton pressed the pad of his thumb over his mouth. “You can have sex, just don’t kiss them. This is mine.”

“Who says we’re going to fuck? I just meant we’d read some poetry together.”

Trenton was outraged. “Absolutely not. I’ll take you to court.”

“Just try it. I’m keeping the puppy.”

“I thought I was your puppy?”

“Guess my cheating is more elaborate than I thought.”

Trenton laughed and gave him one final kiss. “Have fun.”

But it wasn’t fun. It was frustrating. He drove all the way to the city, determined to find some nice shops instead of the mass-produced garbage at the local mall. But nothing seemed right, and everything decent was far too expensive. Even the cost of flowers was prohibitive. He found a nice sweater. A beautiful cable knit in emerald green that would look nice with Trenton’s coloring. It was cashmere, which Hilary knew was nice, and probably why it was so damn expensive. But Trenton deserved it. It had Hilary realizing he wanted a job too. A real one that would let him buy Trenton nice things all the time. He pressed the sweater to his cheek in the spot his face would rest when Trenton hugged him. It was wonderfully soft. But he didn’t know about the size. Trenton was usually a large or an extra-large depending on the company, but this boutique didn’t carry an extra-large, and the large looked more like a medium. He didn’t know what to do. “Can I order this in a bigger size?” he asked the woman in the shop. She’d been watching him like a hawk since the moment he’d stepped inside, as if poverty had a stench or something. “I could pay more for express shipping.”

“I’m sure that would fit you, dear.”

“It’s not for me. It’s for my—” he paused. What should have come next was friend, but what came out instead was, “partner.”

It made him flush a little. Embarrassment or guilt, he wasn’t sure. He’d have to ask Trenton what word to use. He didn’t mind being a friend, not according to Trenton’s definition of the word, a position that seemed to stand above even God. But others didn’t have that same interpretation, so with them the title felt lacking, somehow.

“That’s the biggest size we carry,” the woman said. “Though sometimes people buy something smaller as a motivation to lose weight.”

Hilary couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I don’t want him to lose weight.”

Maybe it came out too sharp though, because the woman became defensive. “Then you shouldn’t be shopping in this store. Try Walmart. They sell things for that kind of person.”

Hilary threw down the sweater, so angry he could spit. “You are such a—” His mother would kill him if he used bitch. “Fucking asshole.”

“I’ll call security,” she warned him.

“Don’t bother. I wouldn’t shop here if it was the last shithole on earth.”

He didn’t mean to take it out on the Shitheap, but by the time he slammed the door it was too late. It jammed, with no way to open. Maybe Trenton could manage it. Until then he’d have to crawl over the hump and go in and out through the passenger door.

He started to cry.

It was so stupid, and really, it wasn’t worth it. What did he care what some random woman thought? She was a shithead. Her opinion didn’t matter. But it bothered him. She didn’t even know Trenton. None of them did. But they still used all those stupid names. And he knew he was no exception. After all, the first time he’d noticed Trenton, it was as the Whale. He might even have called him that to his initial group of shitty friends. He didn’t think he had, but he couldn’t remember well enough to say for sure. And he hated that. He hated how shitty that made him, and hated worse that people wouldn’t see it. They’d say he was out of Trenton’s league even when it was the opposite. He was trying for Trenton. Trying to become a better person. A braver person. But what if this was all he was, just this little weenie crying in his car, unable to properly stick up for his friend?

He left without a present. He still had time to keep shopping, but his head wasn’t in the right place to do it. If he bought something, it would be just to buy it, and that wasn’t what he wanted.

When he got home, he tried to make food. He usually left the cooking to Trenton or his dad, working strictly within the ‘helper’ category. But he wanted to try making something nice. Trenton was always making him good food. His lunch was actually sitting in the fridge when he got back, having been made early for him while he was still asleep. He cried again as he ate it, thinking of all the retorts he wanted to make to that boutique bitch, and wanted to drive to the bookstore and straight into those arms so Trenton could make him feel better. Instead, he got up to print out the recipe he found online. He thought if he followed it closely enough it couldn’t turn out badly, but he mixed up the baking powder with the baking soda and forgot the top tray in the oven was too close to the coils and made everything burn if you weren’t careful, and it meant that an hour later he was throwing open all the windows in the house, the oven open and pouring out black smoke. That was how Trenton found him, staring down at the mess and wondering where in his life he’d gone wrong.

Hilary panicked when he felt the arms go up around him. “Why are you here? You’re not supposed to be back yet.”

“I had to come home. I missed you too much.”

He felt his lip trembling again. He had missed Trenton too. And he knew that was why everything seemed so much worse. The day by himself had reminded him of how it used to be, how useless and lonely and scary it had been, and just how much he stood to lose if he screwed up, and he really just wasn’t having a good day.

“Hey,” Trenton said, not aware of the details, but knowing enough to pull him in more securely, and just hold him like a baby. “What happened?”

So he told him, the stupid story gushing out while Trenton wiped at his eyes and smoothed back his hair. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” the boy said at the end. “I don’t understand how people can be mean to you. It doesn’t seem possible. I start smiling just saying your name.”

“That’s because you’re a sap.”

“I wonder who I learned it from?”