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Dmitri knew he meant the dead ones, and grimaced. “Great.”
“Just call me if you find it,” Roman said with a faint grin. “Also check the fire pits. ‘Tis the fucking season.”
Dmitri knew that meant kids from the school sneaking out and trashing the place with cheap beer and cigarettes. He’d never participated himself, but he knew the kids who did—assholes with football scholarships on the horizon who didn’t give a shit that their childhood home might be the only place that would treat them with real kindness.
He didn’t resent cleaning up after them as much as he thought he would, though. They would have been the kids to shove him in lockers and trip him into trash cans, but cleaning their mess made him feel above them—above all of it. They’d eventually fuck off with no real ties to anyone or anything, and Dmitri would always be here, a lot warm and a little welcome.
“Knox is bringing something to eat around two, so don’t be too long,” Roman said.
Dmitri nodded, some of the weight lifting from his shoulders as he dug through the knit bin and found a matching set. Grabbing the keys off the hook, he clutched his coffee close to his chest and made his way out back for the ATV.
There was a slight hint of wood smoke in the air—one of the over-eager residents lighting up their fireplace. It would be a domino effect after that, and the haze would settle over the tops of everyone’s house. It would usher in the holidays and the feeling of soft, warm contentment for people whose lives were lacking in the empty chaos like his own.
Sonia and Rose would have him over, of course, and there would be Thanksgiving. Then Jayden would drag him back to his house, and they’d put up the tree just like they did every single year since he’d come back to Savannah. They’d drink cocoa and turn all the lights off and watch the branches make shapes in the shadows across the ceiling.
And he’d feel loved. He always felt loved. Jayden had never quite known how to be a dad—how to fill that empty space inside of Dmitri that his parents left when they chose to take him in. He would be the worst liar in the world if he tried to say he didn’t wonder what his life would be like if someone else had adopted him. If the agency had been more discerning, if they’d stepped in when it was clear that both of his parents were unfit to make the decision to raise a child.
Of course, the agency had probably been desperate—or maybe they were willing to overlook it, because his parents were really good at talking about how much they loved Jesus. But it was hard to say he wished it had been different. He’d never bothered to wonder about where he’d come from. He didn’t want to know if he was living proof of some stereotype about poor farmers or too many children. He didn’t want to face the idea that he might have just been unwanted either. No scenario would have made him feel better.
Dmitri killed the ATV engine as he came to a stop a few hundred feet from Adam’s restaurant. He was only open for dinner, so the windows were still dark, and only a handful of cars from his prep crew were sitting in the back parking lot.
Dmitri took a breath and forced his mind to more productive things than stressing about his living situation. Not necessarily better, but something with more hope. He’d get through the tight season. He wouldn’t always feel snowed under by schoolwork, and Wilder would always still need him around. Winter would eventually melt into spring, and work at the station would pick up, and he’d feel useful.
And he would date. He’d make other friends. He’d grow into the man he was always supposed to become.
It might not have been the exact future he’d envisioned for himself, but he’d never really had much of an imagination anyway.
* * *
Dmitri wasin the library with his head bent over his book when a shadow crossed the stream of sunlight he’d been warming his hands in. The library never turned their A/C off, so he was trussed up in Fitz’s bad knits and trying to focus on the reading Rian had given for the class.
“You really need to find a warmer place for this.”
Dmitri felt his heart beat just a fraction faster as he glanced up to see Rian smiling at him. “Maybe the school should sink some money into figuring out the airflow problem so we don’t have to blast the A/C all winter.”
Rian chuckled softly. “Maybe so. What are you doing?”
Dmitri gestured at his books. “I have this hard-ass professor who wants me to suffer. He gave us these ambiguous study questions and, like, a mountain of reading.”
Rian’s eyes sparkled. “I might know a guy who could help you get a bit more specific on the questions.”
“I feel like that might be considered…unprofessional? And unfair?”
“What if it came with a price?” Rian hedged. “Professionalism be damned?”
Dmitri drew his lower lip into his mouth. “Can we talk somewhere warmer? Maybe where there’s coffee or tea?”
“I know a place.”
Which of course was his office. Dmitri would feel weird except he’d seen students milling around and lounging in Rian’s tiny office all semester long, so he didn’t feel singled out—at least, not on the surface. But Rian was going to ask him for another favor, and Dmitri didn’t need to read minds to know it involved Raphael.
He shrugged off his jacket when the warmth of Rian’s office hit him full in the face, and he unwound his scarf, draping it on the back of the chair. “You have tea in here?”
Rian pointed to a little kettle tucked behind a stack of papers on his desk. “Tea and French press. Your choice.” He handed off a small wooden box, and Dmitri chose earl grey, accepting a mug in his right hand. Rian flicked the kettle on, then groaned as he sat in his rolling chair, kicking one foot up on the corner of his bookshelf.
“So, are you actually stressed about this exam? It’s essays, and believe me when I say you’re going to do fine.”
“On my own merits, right? And not because your boyfriend doesn’t want you to be mean to me?”
