Page 29 of Hollow Heart

Perhaps I struck a nerve. While I’d love more than anything to press his buttons on a topic that embarrasses him so much, he is right. We do need to eat.

He doesn’t waste the chance to transition through my offered silence and changes the subject back to something more familiar. Felix.

“Besides, I mean, his music isokay...A little emo for my taste, but Brendan...”

Bobby stops mid-speak, looking like he’s seen a ghost.

“Who’s Brendan?” I ask, because I’ve never heard Bobby talk about his friends in a good while.

Well, not since his freshman year, really. The last couple years, the kid’s kept to himself a lot.

“No one,” he says hurriedly.

I nod, returning to my stir-fry. Maybe he’s the reason Bobby is upset. Maybe they had an argument or something.

Maybe they like the same girl. Who knows.

When he’s finished, he cleans up his plate and mine.

“You must feel pretty shitty if you’re doing the dishes,” I jab at him. “Think I can squeeze a ‘take the trash out’ in there, too? Or does that cost extra?”

Bobby rolls his eyes at me. “Fine,” he groans

“If you need me, you know where to find me,” I say as I put my headphones back in, giving him space.

Bobby nods. “Yeah, of course. I’m probably just going to, uh... do some homework, shower, and go to bed.”

I look at the clock, noting it’s barely nine pm, but then again, I know teenagers, especially boys, need a lot of sleep.

Bobby isn’t any different.

“Cool,” I respond as Felix’s raspy voice fills my ears.

When I get to my man cave, I plop my ass down in my chair, and fire up my computer.

While I continue listening to Felix’s latest album, I do a little research that doesn’t have anything to do with his music.

According to Bobby, his insinuation that Felix is some kind of sex god the ladies are all in a twist for, feels somewhat spot on, but I can’t put my finger onwhythat bothers me.

A quick search onFelix Hart Datingbrings up many people he’s been rumored to be dating at one point or another, including the pop singer Jinger Holloway.

But despite his rumored attachments, Felix isn’t the one who’s been photographed in precarious situations with women.

It’s his bandmate, Sullivan Reign.

My mind wanders to the other night, when we’d found Felix literally showing off his dick on everyone while screaming at his bandmate, “They’ll never be me.”

The words bounce around in my head, trying to make sense, but I can’t discern the words of a drunk man.

People say a lot of weird and fucked up shit when they are messed up.

As I click out of an article about Felix and his rumored break up with Jinger, I see the next headline.

Felix Hart Bares It All.

The tagline of Playgirl pulls my attention, not because I’m an avid reader, but because I remember when Issax did a spread for the magazine.

They’d tried to get us all in on the gig, but I was too self-conscious at the time to let anyone but Marci—or Issax, once in a blue moon—see my frank and beans.

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