Page 24 of The Circus

He taps the tip of my nose coyly, so flirtatious now it makes my head spin and my heart race.

“That’s for me to know, and you to find out.”

FIFTEEN

TEDDY

“Sweetheart,I know you’re eighteen and what I’m about to say will likely fall on deaf ears, but you’ve got to stop staying out until the crack of dawn,” my mom chastises, cupping my face and smoothing her thumb over the growing bags under my eyes. Steaming cup of pitch black coffee grasped in my hands, I flash her a grin meant to appease her, but her frown just deepens, and her thumb trembles against my cheek.

She knows I feel it, her smile as well as my own fading. Clearing my throat, I nod to the steaming plate of scrambled eggs she just whipped up.

“I don’t think the passengers are going to appreciate eggs, mom.”

She smirks, spatula in hand as she piles a heaping scoop onto my plate, adding two slices of buttered toast and pushing it toward me. “Dick—I mean, Richard, is letting me take the car to the grocery store today. Figured I could give you a ride. Unless you’re too cool to be seen with your old mother?”

I roll my eyes, pulling the plate toward me and spearing the fluffy yellow eggs, shoveling them into my mouth. I’m always starving, my metabolism insanely difficult to keep up with, butI’ll never tell her that. She fights for every morsel we put into our mouths, and I’m not about to stress her out more than she already is.

“Mom,” I say, swallowing down my second forkful. She waits, fist on hip, smiling gently at me. “I could never be too cool for you.”

Her eyes shine.

“My sweet boy,” she says gently, and I know she’s seeing me as I was when I was little. She comments on it often, how quickly time flies, how I morphed into a man in the blink of an eye. She’s terrified to lose me, no matter how many times I tell her I’m not fucking going anywhere.

It’s not her fault that every man in her life was a fucking disappointment aside from me.

Before things get too heavy, I grin at her. “I need a dress for prom.”

Slowly, confusion creeps onto her face, and her brows pull together. “Honey…no offense, but I don’t think a dress will look good on your frame. I’m sure I can make you something, though, if you really want it.”

I burst out laughing, that feeling of lightness bubbling up in my chest, and she grins as well, relieved that she hasn’t hurt my feelings. “Thank you for always supporting my queerness, but no, it’s not for me.”

“Oh?” she asks, coy smirk on her lips as she leans on the counter across from me, abandoning her spatula for her own mug of coffee. Normally, I’d be sprinting to catch the bus by now, but if I’m able to hitch a ride with her, I have plenty of time. I know I need to broach the subject of Eden with her at some point, because the plans I have for that girl…well, my mom will likely be seeing a lot of her.

“My…friend, Eden, she needs a dress. She won’t go unless she has one, but she’s refusing to get one.”

“She’s nervous, sweetie.”

“I know,” I say, taking a bite out of my toast and chewing quickly. “So I figure if we can make her something she likes, she won’t back out at the last minute.”

My mom’s eyes are melting, pure and radiant joy etched into every fine line on her face. I know this is what she wants for me, some semblance of normalcy, and I know once she meets Eden, she’ll be even happier. Plus, my mom is excellent at sewing, so it shouldn’t be too difficult, what I have in mind.

“Well, I’ll need her measurements, and you will have to help me.”

“Perfect. Can we have it by Saturday?”

She drops her head with a chuckle and shakes it.

“My son, ever the worst procrastinator,” she mumbles. But when she glances back up at me, I see it, hidden there in the eyes that match mine.

Sorrow, and relief.

Sorrow, because no matter what, we’re still stuck here with Dick, me more so than ever before. But relief, because for the first time in my life, I’m doing somethingnormal.

My fingers tap my mug, the ceramic cooling as the liquid does. Our mutual smiles fade at the same time, and I glance down into the inky coffee. “I’m sorry for worrying you. I’ve…been following her. Eden.”

When I glance back up, she’s staring at me, a guarded look to her eyes now. She knows about my…extracurricular activities, but she’s never once tried to stop me, or asked any questions regarding my murderous streak. She seems to intrinsically know it’s something I can’t stop, but something I control by only taking out the worst of them.

With a heavy sigh, she reaches for the pot of coffee and pours herself another steaming cup, leaning back over the counter and clutching it with both hands this time, leveling me with that lips-pressed-thin look that means I’m about to get a lecture. Leaning back and crossing my arms, I brace myself.

---