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“Sure,” I say.
“Cuter than this?” Duke asks, giving me his puppy-dog eyes and smiling while he wiggles the stuffed animal in front of me.
“They’re both cute,” I say with a sigh.
“But which one’scuter?” Olive insists.
“I’ll give this to you if you admit sloths are cuter,” Duke says. “You don’t even have to wait until Christmas. You can have it right now. All you have to do is say it.”
“That’s not fair,” Olive cries, jumping off the bed and going to take the stuffie.
Duke hands it over, then pulls a pair of thick, shearling lined slipper socks from his other pocket. They have grippy animal tracks on the bottom and sloths printed on the outside. “They come with these,” he taunts, holding them out to her.
She grabs them with a squeal and rubs the shearling cuff against her cheek. “They’re so soft,” she says with a groan, crumpling to the handmade rug on his polished hardwood floor. She peels off her old socks and stuffs her feet into the new ones, wiggling her toes in the soft inside.
“Admit it if you want to keep them,” Duke insists.
“Fine, they’re cuter,” she says, cuddling the little stuffed animal to her chest.
“Good,” Duke says. “Now go put it with the others and let me talk to Lo.”
She lets out a huff but rolls up from the floor and skips to the door. “Just kidding,” she says with a mischievous little grin.
“Beat it, kid,” Duke says, stalking toward her.
She lets out a shriek and charges off down the hall, yelling, “I win, koalas are cuter!”
Duke swings the door shut and turns to me. “What’s up, Lo?”
“Well, since you haven’t been at school all week, you should know things are… Weird.”
“My dad just died,” he says, raking a hand through his hair, his shoulders slumping. He slides out of his jacket and tosses it onto a chair.
“I know,” I say. “I’m sorry.”
“Are you?”
I shrug. “Honestly? No. He was a fucking creep, and no one will miss him.”
“I will,” he says quietly, swiping the kid’s balled-up socks and tossing them into his trash can.
“Yeah, well, not everyone can be as saintly as you.”
“Wanna fuck?”
“No,” I say, drawing myself up, my heart hammering. “That’s not why I’m here.”
“Too bad,” he says, sprawling into his desk chair. “It’s been so long I think my dick stopped working. I’m not even horny. That’s weird, right? I used to fuck until my dick was raw, and I was still horny.”
“It’s not weird,” I assure him. “You just lost your dad, and your brother—”
“I didn’t lose Baron,” he cuts in. “He’s just gone. He’ll come back.”
“Okay,” I say, avoiding his eyes. If he knew…
“So what did you come for, if it’s not to ride the Dolce train?” he asks. “You crawled through my window. You must want something.”
I shake away the images swirling in my mind, the thoughts. I don’t have to be scared of him anymore. Even if I told him I’m the last person who saw Baron in that mall, he wouldn’t be able to change anything. If I play my cards right, though, I might be able to change everything.
