My Favorite Everything

Chapter Three

As Frankie was practicing tennis, Wilder walked back to his own house with his earbuds in. He thrust his hands into his blue hoodie pocket, staring daggers into his black skinny jeans and white sneakers. His mind wandered back to when he spoke to Frankie in hallway before school.

    He sighed to himself as he kept walking. Turning up his music, he attempted to drown out the guilt that swirled around his mind. As he reached his house, he slightly pushed on the door to see if it was locked. It crept open. Wilder sighed with relief as he knew he wouldn't be alone, yet he almost wondered if having to deal with his parents would be a worse fate. Entering his living room, he called for them, but he was met with no answer. Dread crawled into his chest as he checked every downstairs room in the house. No one was home, and his parents had left the door unlocked. He dropped his backpack on the floor and headed upstairs to his bathroom.

    The boy stared at his reflection in the mirror, deciding to take a shower to clear his head. Turning the water to the hottest setting, he winced as he stepped in. Wilder had just finished washing his hair when he noticed his razor. He grabbed it, evening the blades. How fast do these things rust? The water burned against his skin he thought of how quickly he could remove the blade. After a second of contemplation, he snapped out of his thoughts and tossed the razor out of the shower. Wilder shook his head at himself as he scrubbed out the shampoo.

After shutting the water off, Wilder changed into a t-shirt and joggers. His bathroom allowed the perfect square footage for endless pacing, and before he knew it, Wilder found himself walking down the stairs and out of his house. He hoped Frankie's mother wouldn't mind him waiting in her living room until her son came home.

Within a few short minutes, Wilder had reached the Harris residence. He knocked on the wooden frame, nervously shifting his weight between each foot. Denise opened the door with her usual dry expression, but this time, she raised an eyebrow.

"Hi, Miss Harris. I know Frankie isn't home yet," Wilder explained, "but would you be fine if I waited here until he is? We have to get a project done and it's due by midnight, and I'm supposed to have the first half of the assignment finished, and my parents accidentally locked me out of the house."

Denise stared at him for a moment before opening the door. Not bothering to hold a lengthy conversation, she moved back to her place on the sofa, scanning a magazine. "Sure. Start it in his room. And come here for a moment," she said, eyes still glued to the gossip pages. Wilder did as he was told until he faced her. She studied his features with intent, then nodded her head as she leaned away, now uninterested.

"Good."

"Uh, what do-"

"You don't seem high."

Wilder's pupils dilated, but he straightened his shoulders. "Miss Harris, I can assure you I took the Kids Against Drugs pledge in third grade. It's got my signature on it and everything." He held up his left hadn't and put the other behind his back. "I double pinky swear that I will never-"

"Mhm. Project time, Mr. Tocin," Denise said, nodding her head towards the staircase

Wilder walked up to the second floor and turned left, entering his best friend's room. He immediately eyed the bookshelf in the corner, but then turned to Frankie's small TV. It sat directly across his bed which had been made before school, along with a narrow desk placed on the opposing side of the room. Wilder decided to head back towards his best friend's array of books. Choosing a random one, he sat himself down on the blue bedspread and attempted to read. Fifteen minutes had passed when Wilder jumped as he heard the sound of a door opening from downstairs.

Frankie had just arrived home from tennis practice. He set his backpack and sports bag down near the front door and reached for his phone, opening up a message to Wilder.