Page 33 of Snuggle Bug

THIRTEEN

CALLOWAY

Little Land.

What on Earth is this magical place?

I squeeze Greyson’s hand tightly, peering up at the colorful sign. I’ve waited impatiently all morning for him to bring me here, and now that we’re standing in front of the playroom, I don't know how to react.

I’ve been dreaming about coming to Little Land ever since Waxley told me he went with Wren a while back. He told me he played in the stuffy pit, ate unlimited bowls of ice cream, painted a bead painting for his Daddy, and even splashed in the hot tub.

I turn to Greyson. "I’m ready to play."

Greyson boops my nose. "I know you are, boy. That’s why I brushed your teeth in record time this morning. We had to arrive right at opening so you’d have the entire day to have fun. You deserve a nice break after the great work you did at group therapy. Everyone was in awe of how much you opened up."

"You’re kidding."

"Not one bit. Bryce told me that most Littles are too shy to speak about their pasts the first time they attend. They suck their thumbs, stare at the floor, and try to pretend like they’re not listening. You owned your backstory like a boss, not shying away from telling the others what happened. That allowed you to bond with the other Littles in a way that you likely didn’t expect. As you heard, many of the other Littles also had parents who didn’t treat them the best, which is why your story resonated so much."

I thrust my arms around Greyson’s chest. "Thank you for getting me there. I was so scared to tell anyone about my past—I was afraid the people who listened would try to convince me to hate my father. I don't hate my dad, not at all, because I understand that he had a mental illness and was incapable of getting treatment on his own. No one at the Hug Club judged me for not making my dad out to be the worst man on this planet. They encouraged me to accept what happened my way, and appreciate the good things my father did for me, while still empathizing with the fear he caused past me. Now, I feel wholehearted again—light and fluffy in a way I never have before. That’s because my trauma is out in the open, Daddy. It’s not a secret."

Greyson buries me in a hug. He holds me, just holds me. He doesn’t let me go, no matter how hard I wriggle because I’m ready to play.

He plants a healing kiss on my forehead. "You’re Daddy’s smart, good, brave boy. Aren’t you?"

"I try to be."

"No." Greyson stares directly into my eyes. "You are. Daddy couldn’t ask for a better boy. And today, you get your reward."

Unwrapping his arms from my body, Greyson takes my hand in his. We skip like schoolgirls, laughing as we bounce into Little Land. A few people on the street stare at Greyson like they can’t believe a grown-ass man his age is really skipping, but neither of us care. Let people stare. Let them judge. Their opinion doesn’t matter, because they have no comprehension of the beauty of our relationship. In fact, they’re probably miserable, anyway. Why wouldn’t you want to skip into Little Land with your boy? Talk about a boring life.

Greyson skips me straight to the check-in counter. Before we speak to the young man in the dinosaur onesie that says Little Land on the front, a burst of sparkly mist sprays us. I sigh, inhaling the delicious scent, watching as it glistens and shimmers in the air. Fairy dust isn’t half as pretty, and as I lift my index finger to capture a droplet on my pad, I can’t help but think that Greyson and I are going to have a magical day indeed.

"Hey, sweet boy." The young man at the check-in counter leans down and pats my head. "You must be Calloway."

I stare at the worker, awe and jealousy feuding inside of me. This boy is so lucky because he gets to come to Little Land every day. Not only that, he guards the playroom, protecting it from harm. Talk about a dream job. I close my eyes, fancying myself in his shoes, greeting cute boys who want to play with their Daddies, and let out a breath of wonderment. Yes, I’d like to work here very much, if only for a day. Forget finishing my GED and going to college this fall. Little Land would be the best place of employment in the world.

Before I respond, I take a look around the playroom. My jaw drops as my insides feel playful and squirrelly. Rows of stuffies line the shelves as far as the eye can see. The walls are pastel and baby-ish with pictures of teddies, dinosaurs, and rattles. A stuffy pit brimming with stuffed animals of every type, shape, and size beckons me, demanding that I leap in at once. The bead-painting station sparkles invitingly, promising endless joy in creating a masterpiece for my Daddy. In the back, the dance floor which I heard was a new addition is all set up and ready for a happy Little to wiggle on. And the hot tub is steaming and bubbling, already swimming with rubber duckies.

"I sure am." I lean on Greyson’s arm.

The young man smiles. "I’m Connor. I monitor the playroom to ensure that every boy is having fun and also following the rules."

"What are the rules?" Normally, I don't enjoy following rules, but Little Land’s rules must be different. Something inside of me wants to follow them to be a good boy. Not a bad boy who does things Connor, who might as well be a god to me right now, would disapprove of. I’d also be overjoyed if Greyson was proud of me for behaving, because his opinion matters most. Nothing beats knowing that you’ve made your Daddy proud of you, even the yummiest sugar treats in the world. A Daddy’s pride in his boy outshines everything.

Connor moves to the left, revealing a pink sign behind him. "We put this up last month so no more boys would be confused. First, you must wear a onesie in the playroom at all times."

I nod. "I can do that."

Greyson lets out a laugh, drawing small circles on my lower back with his palm. "Calloway loves wearing his onesie. It’s tough to get him to don anything else."

"I’d love to know what cute things are on your onesie." Connor grins.

I blush. "Teddy bears."

"Calloway is partial to my old teddy bear I played with as a boy." Greyson pecks my temple. "I didn’t even realize that his favorite onesie was full of my old teddy’s brothers the first few times I saw Calloway wear it. I should’ve put two and two together."

"Your teddy’s name is Constable Charlie, Daddy. He likes being referred to by his full name."

---