“I think there’s some leftover pot roast in the fridge,” I say softly.
Dexter looks up at me with those hopeful eyes of his and I nod. That’s all it takes for him to be off like a shot into the kitchen, rummaging around in the refrigerator before he finds the small container. I knew he’d come over to eat at some point, so I saved as much as I could for him. The rest went to Aftyn—not because he doesn’t eat; he just doesn’t know how to fucking cook, so I do that for him too.
Come to think of it, I think the only thing I don’t do for him is wipe his goddamn ass.
Which reminds me.
“Hey, Dex?” I begin as I hop up onto the counter next to the stove. “I’m going out of town tomorrow night. Fuck knows how long I’ll be gone, but before you leave, take the spare key, okay? It’s in that tin jar on top of the fridge,” I say, gesturing with my chin. “I gotta go get some sleep to get ready for the drive. I just want you to know that you can come and go as you please while I’m gone.”
He clears his throat but doesn’t say anything. He keeps his eyes trained on the microwave instead, his hands gripping the edge of the counter next to my legs, turning whiter than I’ve ever seen them and I sigh.
Hopping down, I lean over and give my friend a gentle kiss on the cheek, ruffle his hair for good measure, then call out a sound good night as I make my way back to my room.
As I lay down in my bed and pull my sheets up to my chin, I stare at the ceiling for a moment.
Something tells me that this is the last favor I’ll ever do for Aftyn Meyer.
Three
The Lateness of the Hour
Dexter
Infomercials have always been my favorite thing to watch. I don’t know why, but I’m assuming it’s because of the overly cheerful way these people present their products.
Maybe they know that if anyone is watching at this hour it’s because they can’t sleep and shouting at them might help.
I clear my throat as I stare at the screen. Who the hell needs some kind of super scrub spray for their bathroom tiles? This guy seems really excited about it though, and the way he wipes the mold off after one spray and turns to look at the camera makes me chuckle quietly.
I look down at my small plate and use the fork to break off another piece of the pot roast, then pop it into my mouth.
Reheated leftovers never taste as good as the day before, but at least it’s something. And honestly, there’s only so much I can tighten my belt before I pass out from the hunger.
To say I can’t afford to live in this neighborhood would be an understatement, but Willa has been the only person in my life that’s ever been good to me and being close to her has always made me feel better about shit.
I met her the last year of high school.
We didn’t go to the same one, since she’s a year older than me. We were standing in line at the local Mom and Pop grocery shop and I was ten dollars short on the food I was trying to buy.
She reached over and swiped her credit card to make up the balance, then smiled at me and told me to have a nice day.
Her sleepy blue eyes got my attention first and foremost. They seemed full of secrets and dangerous things, but her million-watt smile froze me in place. Her long blonde hair has always looked like woven gold and I guess it reminds me of the girl that was locked in a tower by Rumpelstiltskin that spun straw into gold.
It made me wonder if there was any evil guarding the grounds of the proverbial castle, and that was confirmed the day I met Aftyn Meyer.
His mouth is my favorite thing about him. Not for the rude and crude things that come from them when they part after a wicked smile, but because of how full they are.
My body shivers involuntary at the thought of him. He’s never been nice to me, but he doesn’t treat me like I don’t belong either.
I think he likes having me around, especially when he’s in a bad mood, because it gives him someone to unload his frustrations on.
The odd thing about this entire friendship, or lack thereof with those two, is that I’m not sure which of the two is the most beautiful and ergo, can’t decide who I’d rather end up in bed with.
It’s strange to me since I’ve never been attracted to a man before, but who the fuck could honestly look at Aftyn and not want to touch him? Even just a little bit?
Suddenly the day-old pot roast that I’ve been enjoying in the television-illuminated living room is starting to taste dry.
Thinking about him always makes me feel weird and I hate that I can’t control the damn emotion.
With a sigh, I place the fork on the plate and lean back against the couch, turning my eyes toward the ceiling above me.
Willa said she was going on a road trip and she wouldn’t be back for days. She said I was welcome to come and go as I please, but why do they always get to have the fun without me?
Just one time, I’d love to be able to fit in with them and be seen as an equal and not a hindrance. Not that she ever treats me like that, and I don’t think he does it on purpose, but maybe if I can hang out with them for however long this takes without having anywhere to run off to, they’d see me in a different light.
Fuck it.
I get to my feet and pick up the plate. After I grab the remote and hit the power button, I walk into the kitchen and begin to wash the plate and fork, then place them in the strainer.
Once I’m done with that, I go to the refrigerator and grab the tin can that Willa pointed out, retrieve the key, then close my fist around it.
This way she’ll think I’m staying home, I tell myself as confidently as I can, even though my body begins to tremble slightly. I feel crazy for what I’m about to do, and maybe even a little bold, but I want to know what’s so great about them individually that they’re almost always together without me.
I purse my lips as I begin to chew on the inside of my mouth nervously. Normally, I tell Willa when I’m leaving, even if she’s asleep, because I don’t want her to hear the front door opening and closing and think that someone broke in.
Not that it would ever scare her.
She’s been into some really dark shit lately and I think it has to do with being Aftyn’s friend.
I close my eyes for a moment and take a deep breath, willing myself to be confident and to follow through with my plan.
Be brave, Dex. It’s the only way to get things done.
I slip out of Willa’s front door and close it quietly behind me, turning the knob to make sure it’s locked before I run across her lawn, and the neighbor’s after that, to get to my place.
I push the door open, which I never lock, because I figure if someone comes in and kills me, it would probably be a better thing than the way I live.
Not anymore, I tell myself as I head into my bedroom and quickly pack a bag. I make my way into the bathroom after I’ve put as many clean underwear, jeans, and shirts as I could fit into the duffle bag, then grab my toothbrush and toothpaste, assuming that there will be stops for showers and sleeping and I can slip out during those times.
Wait.
I go back into my room and lift the mattress, slide my hand under, and pull out the envelope full of cash. I don’t trust banks, so I keep my money hidden in my home.
I don’t count how much I have because I know that it should be just enough for this trip, and there are more stashes hidden here and there for the mortgage and utilities.