Page 6 of The Step Don't

Me: You’ve never complained before. As long as I bring that good meat…

Ash: Good meat? That beaten-up rank sausage?

Me: Grade A sausage and you know it. You’ve seen my dick.

I chuckle.

Ash: Only if the A’s for Asshole.

Me: A as in Ash-hole, you mean? So it sounds like you know what you’re bringing.

Dude. That was a good one. I’m quite proud of myself. I automatically picture his mischievous half-grin. I’ve seen it too many times to count, and it’s comforting in a way that probably doesn’t make much sense. It’s hard to think about it without a smile of my own.

Ash: Would be the best hole you’ve ever had. Now are you going to feed me or what?

Me: Obviously. Meet me in the dining hall.

I chuckle to myself as I head over. I can’t imagine what people would think if they saw some of the things Ash and I do or heard some of the things we say to each other. To some people, that might seem weird, but then, others might not understand why it wasn’t a big deal for him to wake up naked in the same bed as me either. We’re just…close. We bonded in the beginning over the changes in our lives and dealing with them all together. Ash was a lot shyer when we were kids, though no one would believe it now, but he’s come out of his shell so much over the years. Sometimes I sit back and watch him, amazed by who Ash is.

The dining hall is basically a cafeteria they call a dining hall, as if that will trick us into thinking the food is better than it is. It’s between the law buildings where I am and where Ash will be coming from, so it’s perfect. It doesn’t take me long to get there, and when I arrive, Ash is leaning against the brick building, looking at his phone, his dark bangs hanging over his forehead. He’s in an Alpha Theta Mu jacket that matches the cap I’m wearing backward. He has on his, and black-rimmed glasses rather than his contacts today. He prefers his glasses, but he’ll wear contacts when he’s doing something physical like the TaskFrat challenges.

“What’s up?” I say as he stands up straighter and slips his phone into his pocket. Ash is more twunk than twink, words I only know because of him. He’s about two inches shorter than me, and though he hits the gym and has great muscle definition, he’s not as thick as I am. I keep in shape not only because of football, but because I like working out. My body isn’t anything to sneeze at. Not that Ash’s is either. We keep up with each other when we’re working out together.

“Hey, you. How was class?”

I open the door and hold it for him. “Good. We’re learning about some really interesting shit. Professor Wilkins was telling us about this precedent where…” I ramble on as we approach one of the build-your-own-meal style of food bars. Ash is a good brother who listens even though I’m talking about something he couldn’t give less of a fuck about. My mom is a lawyer, and my dad used to be before he decided he wanted a change and became a writer. Ash’s mom is a lawyer too, but unlike me, he has zero interest in law.

Ash glances around uneasily. “Careful, Colin. Someone’s gonna hear you talking like this and realize you’re a big nerd disguised as a jock.”

“There’s nothing nerdy about all this,” I tease, though he’s right about me being both a nerd and a jock. I love sports, am book smart as fuck—though not as smart as Ash. Brains aside, I’m aware that sometimes I can lack some common sense. Or…a lot of common sense.

“A big, mushy-hearted jock…who is kinda great,” Ash adds, making me beam.

“Fuck yes, I am.” He’s not the only person to tell me things like that, and I know I’m awesome, but it feels better hearing it from my bro.

We grab Chinese food from the bar, then head outside. We’re lucky enough to find a picnic table beneath a tree. It’s a gorgeous March day, halfway through themonth. After spring break, the school year always seems to fly by.

Ash inspects the table. “Bug check complete. No sign of Coleoptera, Hymenoptera, or Arachnida. You’re good, Big Guy.”

“I hate you sometimes.” Though, really, I’m fucking grateful for him. I’ve always hated bugs, but I also don’t like the thought of killing anything, like, at all. When I was thirteen, right after our parents moved us in together, the spider incident took place. I screamed like a six-year-old girl. Ash ran into the room, ready to defend me from a psycho killer…that wasn’t there. When he realized it was a bug, he grabbed a shoe to squash it, but I tackled him before he could.

“Can you…take it outside?”

His nose had wrinkled in confusion. I’d expected him to make fun of me, and then I’d have to kick my new stepbrother’s ass, or you know, get really mad at him because I’m a lover not a fighter, but Ash had just nodded, got the jar I kept in my room, and took it out for me.

He’s been doing it ever since.

Which maybe isn’t a good thing. Why do I need Ash to be my bug protector? That’s not normal, is it?

“Stop that.”

“Stop what?” I ask before biting into my egg roll.

“How are you so full of confidence in some ways butall overthinky, unsure of yourself, and clueless in others?”

“Because I’m super hot and everyone wants to fuck me?” I pump my brows. “Also, wow…ouch…”

Ash glares at me. “You know damn well I never would have said that if I thought it would hurt your feelings. You know you’re goofy and sweet and my best friend.”

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