How could anyone?
38.
His sleeping face was buried in my navy blue pillow. Sunlight poured in through my window, shattering across his bare skin like broken snowflakes. I lay frozen, head groggy with sleep, my heart starting a steady drum line as I realized where we were.
We’d ended up at my house last night after spending the day at his. We’d been high, completely zonked out on weed, smoking and taking shots of whiskey until we ending up passing out in my bed.
My house.
Fuck.
I tried to attune my ears to the noises of the house, praying no one else was home. Connor’s soft breathing was like a lullaby tempting me back to sleep, but I was too wired now, too amped. I covered him with my sheet and walked softly to the door. Someone banged into it loudly, and I jumped. “Who is it?” I called. No one answered. I opened it slowly, relieved to find a fuzzy face staring up at me expectantly.
“Oh hey buddy, it’s just you.” I crouched down and gave Gunther a good scratching behind the ears. He wagged his tail and whined at me hungrily. “Where is everyone, huh? Where’re Mom and Dad?”
Gunther jumped onto my bed and began whining at Connor, digging a cold nose into his skin.
Connor rolled over and pulled the blanket over his head, moaning as Gunther flopped down on top of him and began panting and grunting, eager to be taken out. “He’s adorable, but please get him off me.”
“You’ve got to get up,” I said, hopping on the bed and gently shaking his shoulder. Gunther was drooling all over my sheets. “We can’t be like this in here.”
He turned and squinted up at me through sleepy eyes. “I thought you said this was your room and no one ever comes in here.”
“They don’t usually,” I said. “But sometimes if my dad is still drunk or comes home late, he’ll stumble in here by mistake.”
Connor crinkled his nose. “What if you’re like, jacking off or something?”
“Shut up!” I said, and he laughed. “Why are you not wearing anything? I am. What the hell happened last night?”
He shrugged and smirked, not seeming to care either way. “Uh, you don’t remember?” He sat up and kissed me, and I felt myself harden. “And you know I like to sleep in the nude.”
“Seriously, though, get up,” I said. “We have to leave.”
I moved to stand, but he grabbed my shirt and pulled me back down on the bed. “What’s your hurry? They’re not here.” He moved on top of me and kissed me again, his hands sliding down the small of my back.
“We can’t,” I heard myself say, but I was losing sight of the goal and the will to care. Gunther whined loudly. “I have to walk him. Get dressed.” I resisted and pulled away from his warmth, throwing his clothes that were all over the ground at him and grabbing Gunther by the collar. “Come on, buddy, let’s go out.”
I was surprised to bump into Mom right outside my door. She was dressed in her tattered bathrobe and chewing a dry piece of toast. Her hair was tied up in a bun and held together with chopsticks. The kind from the fucking restaurants.
So much for the blueberry muffins and the plum-colored pantsuit.
“Oh hey, honey!” she said. “If you’re hungry, I can make you something. I went out and got…well, hello there, Connor.”
To my horror, Connor was standing there shirtless outside of my room—but wearing shorts, thank God—leaning against the doorframe and smiling at Mom like this was just an ordinary fucking day at the Burns household.
“Hey, Ellie,” he said. “You look particularly lovely this morning.”
“Well thank you, honey,” she said, adjusting her chopsticks with a titter. Gross. “Anyway, if you boys are hungry I can whip up some pancakes. I just bought this great new mix at the Shop N’ Save.”
“That sounds great,” said Connor. I wanted to run back into my room, pull the covers over my head and never come back out.
After Mom made her way downstairs, Connor leaned in to kiss me, but I stiffened at his touch.
“What?” he said. “What’s your problem now, Jack?”
“Seriously? You can’t at least put on a shirt in front of my mother?” I heard myself snap at him. I went back into my room and started rummaging through my drawers for something he could wear. “Where’s your shirt?”
He tossed it at me. “There. It’s right fucking there. I thought you had to take your dog for a walk.”
Mom called from downstairs, asking if we wanted blueberries in our pancakes.
“Your mom is so cute,” he said.
I wanted to talk to him, to explain why I was acting like such an asshole, but all the frustration that had been mounting inside me was making it hard to think straight, let alone speak. What if Dad had been here instead of Mom? What if he’d seen—or God forbid—heard us together last night in my room?
I really had to be more careful. Dad might’ve been at least a little suspicious after that comment I’d made about going off to “fuck” that loser buddy of mine. At the time, he’d looked at me like I was just being a smartass, trying to rile him up, and hadn’t said anything more on the subject. But I couldn’t risk it. We couldn’t stay at my place anymore.
“Jack?” Connor said. “Talk to me. Please.”
He walked over and put his hands on my shoulders, squeezing them. “Dude, it’s fine, your Mom fucking knows. You know she knows. Come on, I’m here shirtless in your house in the morning; we’re always out together. We sleep in the same bedroom. Do you really think she’s that dumb?”
I shrugged him off me. “I got to walk Gunther,” I mumbled. I needed to get outside, needed to get some air and get away from everyone.
39.
Something was up with Jess. I’d seen her trailing the halls
