Page 65 of Body Count

By ten the next morning, I was ready to claw my skin off.

I’d woken up feeling an unfamiliar combination of clear headed and hollow.It was like my brain had rebooted sometime during that dreamless night, but my body hadn’t managed any rest.I’d lain there, because I didn’t have anywhere else to be, and I’d found myself thinking through that hour in Pauline’s office.

In the light of morning, I was weirdly embarrassed of myself.What I’d said.How it had all come pouring out.I had the strange sense that I’d been tricked.And that somehow, Darnell and Pauline had gotten a kick out of seeing me lose control like that.Seeing me fall apart.And that stuff with my mom and dad, I thought, remembering the strange, urgent need to say everything.Where hadthatcome from?

Finally, I shrugged it off as best I could.I’d been in a weird headspace after almost bumping into my boy.And, if I was being honest, after that fuck.People said and did weird shit all the time, especially if you had them trapped, if you kept asking.People would break down crying in the middle of an interview and tell you the strangest shit if you kept working them long enough.

And a very small part of me remembered, though, that it hadn’t been like that at all.Remembered that disorienting moment, and how I’d just started to talk.Like I might have died if they hadn’t let me talk.

Eventually, I made myself stop thinking about it, after a promise not to let my guard down next time.One psycho breakdown per year sounded like enough.

Since I didn’t have a job, though, I didn’t have a reason to get up.Normally, I would have checked Prowler and Grindr and Scruff, but for some reason, the thought made me feel guilty.I mean, I’d fucked around enough—and fucked up enough of my life—that maybe it was time to take a break.Even if my meltdown in therapy had been—well, had been whatever—maybe it made sense not to get on the apps for, like, a month.

I mean, at least for a week.

I found my vape pen in the mess of junk on my nightstand, but that made me feel like shit too, so I threw it in a drawer.

I thought about jerking off, but that felt like too much work.

Finally, I watched some porn, but my heart wasn’t really in it.To be fair, in the video I was watching, the top’s heart wasn’t really in it either.The guy looked like his mind was somewhere else the whole time.Like, he could have been eating a sandwich while he railed that tiny twink.

When I gave up on the video, the house was silent.Stillsilent.

And that didn’t make any sense, because where was Darnell?

That was enough to get me out of bed.

I eased the door open, in case he’d made his way to the kitchen without my hearing him.The lights were off, and he wasn’t there.

Maybe he was having the same kind of morning-after experience that I was.Maybe he was lying in bed, thinking about how weird yesterday had been, that uncomfortable mixture of humiliation and regret and…relief, if that was the right word.Like pressure had been building inside me, building and building, and now it was less.Almost gone, as a matter of fact.

But Darnell’s bedroom door was ajar, and when I nudged it open, his room was empty.

No note.No message on my phone.

He’d disappeared the other day, I thought.After he’d argued with Jordan and Rory.Before Tip had shown up dead in my bed.He’d gone somewhere, and he’d lied about it, and now he was gone again.And how many other times had he disappeared without my knowing because I’d been too wrapped up in my own slow-motion train wreck to notice.

I made my way back to the kitchen.We had plenty of windows.The light came through the blinds at an angle, and the beams caught motes of dust that floated in the still air.You couldn’t call the house dark, not at this time of day.But he’d left, and he hadn’t turned on any of the lights for me.

Maybe he’d forgotten.Maybe he hadn’t wanted to wake me up.

I dug my vape out of the drawer where I’d thrown it.

I unlocked my phone.I locked it again.I unlocked it.I sat there, staring at those fucking apps, until it locked again.

This was why I needed a job.

I made myself coffee, and while it dripped, I went into Darnell’s office.I thought about getting on his computer and checking the Find My Device option, or maybe taking another look at his credit card statements.What if he’d gone for a drive and gotten hurt?What if he was about to do something stupid?

But that felt like crossing into stalker territory.He might have gone out for McDonald’s.He might have decided to work from one of those officesyou can rent by the hour.He did that sometimes when he had an important video call.

I found a blank legal pad in his desk, grabbed some pens, and carried it all back to the kitchen.I poured myself coffee and sat there, staring at the pad.At the top, I wrote, GRAY’S SUBSTANCE LOG.

But that sounded like such a boner killer that I tore the sheet off and threw it away.

The next try was GRAY’S SUPER DUPER SECRET STASH LOG.

That sounded like I was barely old enough to jerk off into a sock, so I threw that one away too.

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