Eliott Price Should be Dead

two - girls

I get back to the apartment where Kylie is so generously setting up a fish tank for Nigel's new pet.

"Hey bro!" Kylie enthusiastically says as she scrubs the fish tank in the kitchen sink. I drop my coat and bookbag at the door, slipping my shoes off next. I see Nigel on the couch and I don't say anything.

"Eliott?" Kylie questions again, stopping mid scrub to get a better look at me.

"Alright, why isn't anyone talking?"

I shrug and walk into the kitchen, standing directly next to Kylie as I grab a cup from the dish rack to fill with water. She grumbles when I turn the faucet away from the fish tank but hydration is more important than Nigel's stupid pet goldfish.

I gulp down the water while Kylie finishes rinsing the fish tank.

"Listen, boys, who the hell hurt whose feelings?" Kylie slaps her yellow rubber gloves off and lays them on the counter by the sink. I shrug and finish off my water like I have no idea what she's talking about.

"Eliott is gonna die from cigarettes," I hear Nigel say from the couch in the living room, sort of quietly.

"No I'm not!" I quickly defend myself, "do you know how many other ways there are to die?!"

"Both of you shut the hell up. Get in here," Kylie orders towards Nigel. I patiently wait for him to stand up and make his way into the kitchen.

"Look at eachother," Kylie says next, bringing her two hands together as if it were our heads.

I sigh and slip my hands into my front pockets, shuffling my feet around a few times before I finally stand still and look Nigel in the eyes. He's looking at the ground, but once he realizes I'm not looking there with him, his eyes hesitantly shift up to meet mine.

He always told me that his father was black and his mother was white, which is why he has ice blue eyes, but nobody can be certain. Either way, I really like looking at his eyes because they make me jealous of my brown ones in a good way.

"Alright, now, on the count of three just say sorry and hug," Kylie quietly tells us as we stand in our small kitchen.

"Hug? Why can't we—"

Kylie breaks me off by covering my mouth with her hand, her eyes narrowing.

"1... 2... 3..." Kylie counts, and as soon as she hits three, Nigel is clinging onto me like I'm someone he's been searching for his whole life.

"I'm sorry!" He wails, his head resting against my shoulder.

I awkwardly stand there with my hands at my sides, reaching up to pat his lower back gently because that's the only place I could reach.

"It's okay," I plainly state, my eyes shifting over to Kylie as my body stays still. She gives me a thumbs up.

"Okay..." I say again, licking over my lips nervously because Nigel won't move, "uh, I'm sorry too."

"Yay!" Kylie claps her hands together and jumps in the air a few times, smiling like we're her children.

Nigel finally backs away and looks at me again. Shrugging, his hand pats my shoulder.