In the Closet (boy x boy)

6. How to Suck Royally

Monday, March 6th

"You're so dumb. I was kidding, Billy, why would I suggest that seriously?"

"A bit too late to turn around now," I say at my new disposable phone, concealed behind a particularly tall bush near the McCloud's mansion.

"I bet you're dressed like a fucking thief." Barb sniggers like an hyena and I hear her stuff something in her mouth.

My eyes droop at my cuffed jeans and my black turtleneck. I guess she's right for once.

"That thief better be real handsome." Midnight wind ruffles my hair. I hear a dog whining inside the house.

"Pray there's no guard dogs." She loudly chews in reflection. "Or guard humans."

"They're called security guards, Barb."

"Whatever. You know, maybe you could've asked Myla some advice on stalking, she seemed quite good at it last time." And then she laughs again.

I grit my teeth. "Let's not bring my ex into this, yeah?" I slowly inch closer to the vacant pool area.

"That girl was batshit crazy. And about you, out of all things." I freeze in my tracks, offended.

"What is that supposed to mean?"

She masticates for a minute. I frown. "You never even wanted to touch her. Or be with her. Come on, Billy." My frown breaks. Creases dig across my forehead as my eyebrows raise in consideration.

"I suppose I have a quite addictive personality," I whisper with a shrug.

"Oh, that, you do not. Let me tell you—"

"'K, bye." I shut the phone, finally facing the patio door.

I peek inside. The lights are on but there isn't anyone in sight. With a slow inhale, I slowly push the glass door open. It screeches like a litter of frightened kittens separated from their mother. I nearly swear and scamper away, tail between my legs. The sudden appearance of a dog—and not any breed of dog, a mighty Rottweiler at that—has me stall. German dog, strong jaws that can exert up to 328 PSI, loyal animal when trained properly. We stay there, faces a feet away, staring deep into each other's eyes. It has its mouth hung open, tongue dangling and sharp teeth displayed just for me. By the time I start retreating gingerly, someone stands behind the dog.

"Did she scare you?" I look up, still kneeling outside the gaping doorway. The drunk girl from the party smiles down at me.

I jolt back and fall on my bum. "Oh! Are you okay? Here." She holds out her hand at me.

Can't she see I'm trying to enter her house uninvited? I grab her hand and she pulls me into the house, closing the door after swatting a mosquito away. The area we are in is dimly lit. I can see her face but I doubt she could identify mine. The dog stomps her paw at me. I flinch. The girl giggles and scratches behind the dog's ear, earning a satisfied head tilt.

"Erm, I..." I let out.

"She's very nice, don't be scared." The girl nods at me and I hold tentative fingers out towards the dog's muzzle.

I refrain from telling her I'm more worried about her than the dog at the moment.

"See, she's a sweetheart. Her name's Jewel." I try not to physically cringe. That dog, when properly regarding its capacity to snap my neck between its jaws, is not a jewel.