Page 48 of Pet Project

“I didn’t know,” Don says before he glances my way and startles. “Good morning, Kitten. Did we wake you up?”

Toby spins around and almost smacks Don in the face with the spatula in his hand.

“You’re awake!” he says with a smile that’s a bit too bright. “Morning!”

My brain is still struggling to come online, but it finally registers to me what is wrong with this picture. “Since when do you cook?”

Toby looks a bit like a kicked puppy, and I hate myself for putting that look on his face. I hurry over and pull him into my arms while Don reaches over to turn off the burner. I see that there’s French toast, scrambled eggs, and bacon already piled up on counter. It looks like the potatoes still in the pan are the last bit of breakfast to be done.

“I didn’t mean it like that, Tobes. I’ve just never seen you show any interest in cooking. You’ve never tried to cook at the manor. Even Lucky shows more interest in cooking than you do.”

He pulls back from me and swipes at his cheeks, making me feel like even more of an ass for my careless remark. Toby only cries watching movies.

Don hands me my mug, the coffee made just the way I like it. I didn’t even notice him making it.

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” our pup says turning back to the stove and turning the burner back on. “I was going to invite you to my graduation and then cook a feast for everyone, but then I got into my headthat I should make you guys breakfast to thank you for last night.”

I sip at my coffee and look at my roommate. He looks just as confused as I do. There is not enough coffee in the world to keep up with Toby’s brain sometimes.

“First things first,” I set my mug down to be able to wrap my arms around Toby from behind. “I’m not sure about how Donnie feels, but last night is definitely something that you don’t need to thank me for. It was absolutely my pleasure.”

“Seconded,” Don murmurs from the side and I watch as he presses a kiss to Toby’s temple. “It’s been a very long time since I’ve had someone trust me enough to let loose like that. I loved making you soar.”

I chuckle at the shiver that runs through our pup as he turns off the stove again. This time, it’s because the food is done unfortunately. I let go and step back so he can plate the potatoes, and we all pile up our individual plates and head to the living room to eat.

“As for the rest of your statement,” Toby looks up at me from his spot on the floor in between the couch and the coffee table. “What do you mean about graduation? We don’t finish until for another year.”

Toby swallows the food in his mouth and gives us both a sheepish grin.

“So y’all know how I work at night?”

I nod because it was something that he always fought with Eli about. The Kink Manor resident sadist likes to keep tabs on everyone, and it always bothered the hell out of him that Toby refused to tell anyonewhere he worked – especially since Toby paid his rent in advance for the whole year and as far as all of us saw, he didn’t have any other expenses to need a job.

“I actually don’t have a job.” The words tumble out of his mouth before he stuffs his face full of French toast. Don raises an eyebrow in question, but I’m floored. It actually hurts a bit that my best friend has been lying to be for the last three years.

“So, what have you been doing three nights a week for the last three years?” I try to keep the pain out of my voice, but his flinch tells me I didn’t succeed.

He sets down his fork and turns to me. “I enrolled in culinary school practically the second I touched down in Pittsburgh. I had to cancel my housing at W.U. to afford it, but Jay had already brought me home as a stray at that point.

“He was my driver from the airport. We got stuck in traffic on the parkway heading into the tunnels, and he convinced me to meet everyone after I told him how I came here instead of the conversion camp my mother wanted me to go to… I just never really left Kink Manor after that.”

58

DONNIE

Watching Toby cook in my kitchen unlocked something inside of me. I want to see this every single morning. What would it be like to go for my run and come back to a full breakfast cooked by my pup while I rouse my sleepy kitten before the sun comes up every day? That would be paradise…

The kitten in question interrupts our conversation, and we sit down to eat after a tense couple of minutes when my roommate questions his best friend’s cooking. I don’t see any issue, but based on the conversation they are having, it appears that Toby has been hiding the fact that he’s been taking culinary classes for years.

This seems to be something that they need to get through. Lies have a way of tearing people apart, even when they are well-intentioned.

“…I came here instead of the conversion camp my mother wanted me to go to…”

Hash browns are not supposed to go down the windpipe, but holy fuck! Did he seriously just casually mention that his mother tried to send him to a conversion camp?!

Toby gets up and pats me on the back while I feel like I’m hacking up my left lung. Judging by the nonchalant way he spoke about it, I could almost believe that it doesn’t bother him that the woman who gave birth to him wanted to send him to hell on earth. But his eyes are eerily empty for him. I’ll let him hold onto his pain for now.

As I finally stop coughing enough to choke down some coffee, he sits back on the floor in front of his plate. “I kept it secret because I didn’t want to risk seeing you guys disappointed if I fucked up and failed. By the time I realized making food wasn’t only a hyper-fixation for my ADHD, I didn’t know how to tell you guys. With Scott always handling the food and then the stuff with Lucky showing up, it got harder and harder to find a way to say something.”

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