Page 3 of Rat Park
Like a cliché, Dominic had met Mason on the first day of elementary school. He had thin, mischievous eyes that would peer at him from his brown face, like lights on the side of a mountain.
Dominic had felt weird that first day of school. He’d been late because Mom had forgotten the date, and with all the new people and the teachers’ smiling, expectant faces, everything had piled up until all he wanted to do was dig his heels in and stay safe.
“Nope,” he responded to every single thing the teachers asked of him, until their expressions became more familiar, irritated and stern. Mason had giggled beside him, and Dominic had felt, for the first time that day, settled. They’d both gotten into trouble, and the first of many trips to the headmaster’s had forged a bond that had kept them close since then.
“Fuck, it smells bad,” Dominic complained, even though both of them were more than used to the reeking bins behind the school where they escaped to smoke during recess. Mason just nodded, not even playing along as he lit up, the grey smoke doing little to cover the decay of food beside them.
He’d been quiet all day, which meant something had happened again with his dad, but Dominic didn’t pry. Mason spent a lot of time at his house, stealing booze from the party downstairs and hiding in his room. They were eleven, so getting drunk wasn’t a big deal, and the fuzz of alcohol helped them drift off to sleep. They’d talk and hang out, but never pry. It was unspoken between them not to ask questions about the secrets they had to keep. Mason didn’t mention the time they had both gotten to Dominic’s to find his mom spread out on the couch, more unconscious than sleeping, with only a shirt on. How Dominic had blushed, humiliated at someone, even Mason, seeing her like that, and rushed to cover her with a blanket.
And Dominic didn’t ask about the times Mason showed up late at night, the bruises, the haunted eyes. It was just part of their world.
“The acid would eat through the dragon’s scales, easy!” Dominic said, having finally prodded Mason into liveliness.
“What?It’s, like,fact, that dragon scales are practically invincible.”
“Byacid? Really?”
“Yes by—you know what, this conversation is over. If anybody hears what fucking nerds we are, we’rebothgonna be dead meat.”
“Don’t worry, you can just sic your pet dragon on them.” Dominic snickered.
Mason snorted. “I wish. Better to just get on the dragon and get the hell out of here.”
“Oh, and leave me to deal with the assholes?” Dominic complained, his lungs squeezing at the easy way Mason had jumped on that dragon, away from him.
Mason just rolled his eyes. “You’re coming with, stupid.”
“Tsk. I know,” Dominic shrugged, not being able to hide his smile. “We could go to Jamaica or something.”
“Jamaica? What the fuck’s in Jamaica?”
“Weed. Reggae.”
“The fuck you listen to reggae.”
“Jay showed me.”
Mason scowled. “That old geezer? I told you not to hang out with him,” he muttered.
“Why not? Some of the songs ain’t bad.Don’t worry, be happy.”
“Oh yeah, great advice,” Mason snorted.
Dominic elbowed him in the side, making Mason yelp and retaliate until they were pushing at each other, cursing loudly between smiles.
“Oi!”
Mason and Dominic both turned to look towards the source of the call, rolling their eyes in perfect synchronicity when they saw it was old Mr. Keewell, their science teacher.
“Here we go,” Mason muttered, slouching against the wall as Dominic shoved his hands into his pockets. Mr. Keewell stopped in front of them, his sour, wrinkled face pinched at either the sight of them or the smell nearby.
“You boys know you’re not supposed to be back here. What exactly were you doing?”
“A séance,” Mason drawled.
Dominic shot him a look. “The fuck is a séance?”
“Talking to the dead. Saw it onBuffy.” Mason grinned.
