Serendipity

Poopy shoe

I look at Sydney, who shrugs.

He says he doesn't care, but I don't believe him. I mean, it gives me a bad taste in my mouth whenever Liam says that, so it must hurt someone who's actually gay a lot more. But, then again, I'm just guessing.

"So, do you actually have to go to the bathroom?" Sydney asks, squeezing my hand lightly. I'm still holding his hand? I search his eyes briefly, but he doesn't seem to mind, so I don't let go— since the contact sends little bursts of electricity up my arm. "Or did you just want to tell me that?"

"Uhm," I chew my lip. "I mean, kinda half of both?"

He opens his mouth to say something, but closes it again and swallows. I tilt my head curiously, but don't pry.

"So..." I say after a moment. Sydney looks at me and cocks an eyebrow. "I have a question, but I don't want you to laugh or get mad, okay? I don't know much about stuff like this..."

"Okay..." He inclines his head, cautious but also curious. "Go on."

"Uh," I swallow. Am I really going to ask this now? Is this a good time? What if I say it and he hates me? "Is...it... possible...for someone to like guys...and girls?"

I don't meet his eyes, not wanting to see whatever's going through his head but also dying to know.

"I—I'm sorry," He says haltingly, and I turn to see him scrunching up his face, as if trying to hold back laughter. "I know you said not to laugh..."

I sigh, but feel my face flush. Thank goodness he's not mad.

"To answer your question," He coughs, kicking open the door to the bathroom so we can walk inside. "Yes. It's called being bisexual."

"Oh," I nod. I remember hearing that before. The term sounds somewhat familiar.

He starts to say something, but then I feel my shoe squish in something, and I let out a yelp.

"Oh, shit!" I gag when I see the brown under where my foot used to be. "Who— what— why? How?"

"That's disgusting," Sydney says, covering his mouth with one hand and staring. "What the fuck?"

"Oh, and it's on my shoe. No," I moan. These were my nice ones, too.

I hear Sydney mutter something under his breath, and I whip my head around.

"What'd you say?"

He snorts and mumbles it again, this time a little louder. "Poopy shoe."

I groan and carefully take it off, waving it at him. He squeals and ducks away.

"You're such a child," I tell him, hopping around the crime scene and towards the sink. "Hey, can you help me?"

"I don't wanna touch that shoe," He wrinkles his nose but comes closer. I turn on the sink and let it run over my shoe, trying not to look at the brown clumps rolling down the sink and into the drain.

"This is so fucking gross," Sydney comments. I widen my eyes and stare at him.

"Oh, is it now?" I gesture at the poopy shoe, still not clean but now just covered in goopy wet poop. "Wanna do the honors of cleaning it?"

"Oh, hell no," He shakes his head and fakes a gag. Or maybe he actually gags. It's hard to tell the difference, especially when I want to do the same.

"There's no way you actually wear that," Sydney says, getting into a strange, slightly hunched position. His knees are bent and his arms are held close to his body so he looks kinda like an angry gremlin. Is he preparing to fight with the poopy shoe or something?

"Yeah, cuz first of all," I take it out from under the stream of water but keep it over the sink so it won't drip the poop-water on the floor. "It's a poopy shoe. Second of all, it's also soaking wet."

"So, what," He tilts his head. "You're gonna go around for the rest of the day without a shoe?"

"Yep," I nod. Then I thrust my hip towards him. "Hey, grab my phone real quick?"

"Out of your pocket?" Sydney stares at my butt— no, no, not my butt— the place where my phone is.

"Yeah. I don't wanna get it dirty."

He glances at me for confirmation, then swallows nervously when I nod.

"You... sure?" He asks, still disbelieving. Come on, mate, I just wanna get the picture so I can drop this thing. I nod again.

"Look, whatever you're thinking about that's stopping you, ignore it. I don't mind, because if I did, I wouldn't be asking you. Anyways, I wanna get a picture of this so I have a valid excuse for anyone who asks," I incline my head towards him.

He sucks in his cheeks, then quickly slips his hand into my back pocket and pulls out my phone.

"A picture, you said?" He asks, opening my phone and swiping to get to the camera.

"Yeah," I hold up the poopy shoe, making sure the ruined side is facing him, then make a face. I hear the shutter sound I keep forgetting to turn off. "Lemme see."

He opens the picture and turns the phone so I can see it.

"Oh, ew. Yeah, that's perfect," I grin and drop the shoe in the sink. "Oo, oo, go snap one of the pile, too."

"The janitors are gonna quit after this," Sydney mutters, crouching down to get a better angle.

"That is most likely," I agree, hopping over to the other sink to wash my hands. I pump my hands full of soap and sigh. "Who would even dare to take a dump— and in the middle of the walkway, too!"

"Must've been desperate," Sydney shrugs, and I snort.

"That is an image I definitely didn't need," I shake my head, and Sydney coughs.

"Don't make me laugh this close to the crap," He grunts. "Or do you want me to drop your phone? That'd be an interesting perspective to take a picture from."

"Sorry," I shudder. It had taken so long to convince Mom to get me a phone— there's no way I'm gonna let it get ruined because Sydney dropped it in a poop pile.

I glance at my abandoned shoe, deciding once again to leave it there when I taste bile crawling up my throat.

Sydney trots back over as I'm finishing cleaning my hands every memory of that poopy shoe, holding out the phone (now probably full of poop pictures) and looking very proud of himself.

"I should be a photographer," He says.

"Of poop?" I glance at him as he slips the phone back into my back pocket.

He winces. "Oh, yeah, nevermind then."