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“You like dicing things, I bet. Making all the vegetables the same size, putting them in little piles.”
He stared at me, his mouth twitching. “You’re a dick,” he finally said, and laughed.
“I bet measuring cups give you a boner.”
He smiled wider, making his dimples pop again, and shook his head. “Got jokes, huh?”
“Just observations.” I swept my eyes along his kitchen counter where everything was spaced out evenly, even where it was crowded, where the big jar by the stove seemed to hold one of every kind of utensil ever made in about three different sizes… a lot of them suddenly having some serious potential I hadn’t thought about before, so how’s that for observations. The Beast had turned me into a straight up pervert. “You sure have a lot of stuff. Like a lot of… everything.”
“Yeah…” He chewed on his pizza a long minute and looked over at the living room frowning, like he was trying to figure it out. “I like stuff,” he finally said, shrugging. “It just makes things feel more permanent when there’s a lot of stuff. I bounced back and forth a lot between houses and didn’t get to take a lot with me. And I was always losing things, so now I have this bad habit where I buy extras of things. In case I lose one. So… more stuff.”
I hadn’t really been expecting a psychological breakdown when I’d casually mentioned he might be part hoarder, and I wasn’t sure what to say.That’s really fucking saddidn’t seem right and neither didYou sound like you’ve had way too much therapy.
“Sorry, that was weird,” he laughed.
“Bro, the bar for weird right now iswayhigher than that,” I told him, wrapping up my second piece, and he laughed again. “Anyway, that makes sense. I guess if I had my own place…” I stopped just short of sayingI’d want it to look exactly like this, because what did that mean? I didn’t have enough therapy under my belt to know. “How long have you lived here? By yourself?” I asked instead, pivoting instead of finishing my sentence.
“Since I moved out. Since I was sixteen.”
“How does nobody know this?”
“I don’t tell anyone. I don’t need people acting like my friend because I don’t have parents at my place. I mean I’m nineteen now, so none of it really matters as much, but when I was underage I was really trying not to draw attention to myself, you know? I didn’t need somebody like Ellis inviting himself over to throw a party.”
“Yeah. Ellis would totally do that.” Definitely half the parties at Walker’s place were Ellis rounding people up, trying not to be lonely at his own house. “I won’t tell anyone,” I promised, feeling protective all the sudden. Or maybe territorial was a better word. He was mine now. This was mine. At least part of me believed that, I guess, and didn’t want anyone touching.
He shrugged. “Like I said, it doesn’t matter as much now. You can tell people… whatever you want.”
“I don’t… I keep shit pretty private,” I told him, and for the most part, that was true. At least I tried. Strangers already knew way more about my life than I wanted them to, and I didn’t volunteer bonus unless there was a good reason.
“That’s okay. So do I.”
“Are you out?” I asked him, realizing I wasn’t sure. Walker’s line on gossip wasn’t the strongest one around.
“I’m notnotout. I just don’t really…”Have any friendsseemed to be the missing words there, but I wasn’t filling that in. Although last week I probably would have. “There’s no one I need to tell,” he finished, just letting it be implied. “But guys talk. Especially jocks. You guys talk a lot.”
“Gotta do something in the locker room. Besides suck dick.”
He shook his head. “You are such a brat. You’re out.” It was more a statement than a question, but I nodded.
“I’m out like I fuck guys and I don’t hide it. But I never made a big announcement or anything. I just never pretended I was into girls. Nobody bothers me about it. But I don’t… I don’t know if it would still be like that if I was holding hands in the hallway. I don’t think I’m that kind of out.”
I thought maybe I’d hurt his feelings or offended him or something, but he just shrugged. “I don’t need to hold your hand in the hallway to own your ass,” he said simply, and I choked on my drink so hard my eyes watered.
“Jesus, Beast,” I croaked out, swallowing past the burn in my throat and taking another sip.
“I’m just saying. What’s happening here can stay here, I don’t care. High school relationship drama is so uninteresting to me, and you don’t need extra hassle right now if it’s going to be like that. Your first priority’s your grades. Letting me keep you safe. Being a good boy. You just remember who you belong to, and everything will be fine.”
I nodded and squirmed in my seat just because it felt good. Yeah, I wasn’t going to be forgetting that any time soon.
* * *
I ate until he stopped putting food in front of me, which was getting to be a habit. We polished off the pepperoni and then most of the vegetable, which was honestly just as good. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been full, but my stomach was begging mercy rule, and I finally had to stop, literally exhausted from eating, and pushed back from the table.
“One more?” he asked me, picking up the box and tilting it in my direction, and I groaned.
“No way. I’m done. I can’t.”
“Alright. Good job.” I don’t know why I got all puffed up getting complimented for eating, but I guess I was just that desperate for it. He started cleaning up the table and I got up to help, but he pushed me back down. “Sit. I’ve got it.”
