Page 8 of Insatiable Hunger

“Uh, no?” Looking at the movie, then back to him, I add, “What?”

“How do you not know The Breakfast Club? It’s a classic. Molly Ringwald… Emilio Estevez…”

“Nope, doesn’t ring a bell.” Pulling my legs up, I wrap my arms around my knees. “Is it an older movie?”

“It’s an eighties classic,” he deadpans.

With a chuckle, I glance over at him. “You keep saying the wordclassiclike it’s going to mean something to me. I don’t know it, but I’ll watch it. Just tell me what it’s about.”

He studies me like I’m a rare specimen he can’t figure out before huffing. “It’s about a group of high school kids who get Saturday detention and have to spend the whole day together. They’re all from very different social circles.”

“That’s it? That’s what the whole movie is about?”

Narrowing his eyes at me, he acts like he directed the film himself and I just majorly offended him. “Just watch the damn film, Elias.”

I hold up my hands in mock innocence. “Okay, okay, shit. My bad.”

Remembering the sucker I have in my sweats pocket, I reach in and pull it out, ripping the wrapper off and shoving it back in my pocket before popping it into my mouth. It’s one of those blow pop ones that has gum in the center, but the gum always ends up being super tough. This one is strawberry, and probably my favorite flavor. I focus on the movie, but can feel Zeke’s gaze on me like a weighted blanket.

Eyes flitting to him, I lift a brow. “What?”

“You just pulled that out of thin air?”

“Of course not.” I laugh. “It was in my pocket.”

“Because that’s any less weird,” he muses. “I’ve never met a grown man who always has a sucker on hand.”

Shrugging, I mutter thoughtlessly, “I don’t know. I’ve always enjoyed sucking or chewing on things.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, it’s like my brain catches up with what the fuck I just said, my face heating immediately. I’m not one to get embarrassed easily, and I’m certainly not a prude, but I’m genuinely trying to make an effort at a civil living situation, and saying something perverted probably isn’t the way to do it. “Uh, I didn’t mean it like that,” I spit out in a hurry as he stares at me blankly. “I also like gum.”

I shove the sucker back in my mouth as I stare straight forward. Insert foot in fucking mouth, why don’t I. Thankfully, he doesn’t say anything else, returning his attention to the movie as well. A movie which, I must admit, I’m enjoying far more than I thought I would. Older movies have never really called to me, with the exception of a few, so I figured I wouldn’t be into it, but I can see the appeal. Plus, John Bender is a fucking babe. And if I’m being honest, so is Mr. Andrew too in a good boy I’d like to corrupt type of way.

It’s hard to ignore how comfortable it is in here with Zeke. We watch the movie, talk here or there if I have questions, but other than that, there’s no awkward tension, the stifling vibes. This is a first for us. It’s odd… but nice.

About halfway through the movie, my eyes grow heavy, and I rest my head on the arm of the couch. I don’t know how long I lie there before I eventually pass out, but the next thing I know, my eyes are peeling open and the room is dark, projector turned off, and there’s a blanket covering me. And I’m alone.

Did Zeke cover me?

Folding up the blanket, I set it on the back of the couch and make my way up to my room. It’s clearly the middle of the night based on the dark sky, and when I get back to my room, my phone that I left in here tells me it’s just after three in the morning. With the covers pulled all the way up to my chin, I’m somehow able to fall easily right back to sleep.

What a weird fucking night.

Chapter Six

Elias Carnell

NerdyBoiSwitch: Are you new to Savannah?

Me: Yes and no. I was born and raised here but moved away for college. Now I’m back. You?

NerdyBoiSwitch: Nah. I’ve been here well over a decade now.

NerdyBoiSwitch: Look, I’ve got nothing going on tonight if you want to grab a drink? Get to know one another?

Fuck.Do I? Do I really want to grab a drink with a stranger from Grindr? Truthfully, I don’t know what possessed me to redownload the app in the first place, let alone actually speak with anybody.

I used to date a lot, and it’s still not unusual for me to have a one-night stand or someone I hook up with for a little while, but it’s like I’m constantly chasing something I can’t have. I’m subconsciously trying to find someone who can give it to me better thanhedid. But there’s no point. In the three years since the Lavender Party, I have yet to find anybody who worked me over the way Zeke did. He played my body like a fiddle, and he was the best damn musician out there.

I can’t live here, in this house with him, and constantly reminisce on that night. It’s weird. Some may even go as far as to say it’s borderline pseudo-incestuous.

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