Page 8 of Pet Project

The first time he was in here, he tripped over someone’s backpack and did some elaborate dance looking thing to avoid spilling his drink. In the process, he bumped into four tables and spilled about seven otherpeople’s drinks. But he saved his own and gave a little bow at the door before running away, red as a ripe strawberry.

The most memorable moment was probably the time last year when he knocked his smaller friend out cold in front of the shop.

“Donnie, get Mr. Squirrel Brain here a drink on me,” Walt calls out, shaking me from the memory. “I’m thinking something decaf would be ideal.”

“No fair, Gramps!” the excitable young man exclaims, running his hand through the sandy strands of his hair. “I need the caffeine to sit through my boring lit class later.”

Lew, I mean Matt barks out a laugh before coughing in an attempt to cover it up. “I’ll be sure to let Simon know you think his class is boring.”

I spend the next few minutes observing the interactions between the men at the table while I come up with something that I think truly fits the smaller man’s tastes. He acts like he is the personification of a golden retriever puppy, but I see the tension in his back every time Walt shows affection to the young man who had been crying earlier. There is something between the two of them, but he doesn’t seem to know how to show it.

Carrying over the fruity monstrosity I just made up, I get raised eyebrows from both the professor and my former boss. So what if I want to make sure the guy gets more in his system than just caffeine? I can’t help it.

“Too much caffeine means a crash later in the day,” I tell him with a smile when he looks at me doing a decenttrout impersonation. “Be a good boy and drink something healthy.”

Matt and the guy they called Shiloh both break out in laughter while Toby returns to the color of a ripe tomato. A sound under the table makes me look, and I see his foot bouncing up and down on the crossbar of his chair.

Huh, he really is like a puppy, isn’t he?

“Thanks, Donnie,” Matt says when he can finally take a breath. “We’ll get out of your hair so that I can get some food into these guys. Thanks for the drinks, man. I’ll text you later about that thing.”

The two younger men gather up their things and follow the professor like they are obedient pets and not people, and I can’t help but smirk at the sight. Before I can question it any further, Walt clears his throat.

“So what is so important you needed to call me away from my grandkids?”

9

SHILOH

The coffee shop guy is probably the hottest guy I have ever seen, not that I actually look at anyone anymore. I remember when I first started to realize that I liked guys instead of girls. Frank was mad, but Mama assured him I would grow out of it, that kids didn’t really think about kind of stuff until they were much older. I might have only been five, but I was certain that I felt things for boys that I was supposed to feel for girls and vice versa. But after Frank hit Mama for talking back, I kept that to myself.

Getting dragged all over campus by Toby is like second nature to me at this point. I love him dearly, but an introvert, he is not. After my morning freakout, I have resigned myself to having way too much attention thrust at me for the rest of my day, especially because my guard dog seems to think he is somehow at fault.

“So, I’m going to be here as soon as your class is over to get you and take you to Professor Barnes’s office.He said we can hang out in there until he finishes up his last class around four, and then he’ll take us back to the house.”

Sighing, I look around the rest of campus as we walk toward the art building. I’m a junior, being escorted like a kid on his first day of kindergarten while freshmen two weeks into the semester are heading off to their classes with a kind of confidence I have never known. I would give anything to be able to feel comfortable walking across campus by myself. It’s just toopublic.

At the entrance to the building, Toby gives me a massive bear hug before pushing me inside. He really must be feeling insecure if he’s being this touchy feely in public. He usually avoids anything more than hand holding unless we’re in a group or somewhere like the Devil or the Monarch Room.

“Remember to wait for me!” he calls out and almost trips over his own feet as he rushes across the quad to get to the building that holds his business courses. I look up at the ceiling of the entryway in exasperation. I love him, but he has got to stop treating me like a child.

I love him so much, but I can’t be with him. I’ll never be strong enough and then I’ll lose him, just like I lost Mama.

Fuck! I feel the stinging sensation in my eyes again.

Ducking back out of the doors, I race off around the back of the building towards the small park adjacent to the campus. My art professors are understanding of my anxiety issues being exasperated with my stepbrother being out.They won’t make a big deal out of me being late or missing class as long as I check in and get the assignments done. I shoot off an email to my professor while wiping absently at my face. I hate being so out of control with my emotions.

Walking through the little copse of trees calms me in a way that little else does lately. In the woods, surrounded by nature, there is absolutely nothing that reminds me of my life before Kink Manor. That more than anything else brings me peace when my anxiety and PTSD flares up. My therapist says it’s avoidance, but she can fuck off. I need these brief respites however I can get them.

My phone dings from my backpack and I pull it out to look at my professor’s response. I’m surprised to see it’s a text from Matt, outside of the group chat.

Matt Barnes:

Where R U?

Pup is about to get arrested

Me:

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