the biggest 'ok hear me out' yet (what if Shiro ran a daycare?)

Oh. Oh.

I heard the doorbell ring and opened the door, expecting an early parent. It was the online store worker with the earbuds. I had completely forgotten about those! I grabbed my wallet and paid for the earbuds.

I tipped the guy and took the package from him. Keith was standing behind me. I handed him the package. "There. Your earbuds." I told him.

He grabbed the box and walked back to the couch. He shoved it into his backpack and continued watching TV with the other kids.

"What are you guys watching?" I asked, sitting down in between Lance and Coran. "Garfle Warfle Snick!" Hunk shouted. "Huh??"

The kids paused the show and continued to explain everything about the show. They pressed play and continued watching. The show wasn't as boring as I thought it would be, but it was definitely for a younger audience.

I glanced at my watch. It was parent pick-up time. The kids started leaving, one by one, until it was just Pidge and Keith left. They were still watching Garfle Warfle Snick.

The doorbell rang, and I opened it. A lady I didn't recognize was at the door. "I'm here for Katie." She smiled. "Uh... I don't recognize you. Could I get some form of identification?" I asked. She nodded, "Of course. Typically her father picks her up, but..." The lady trailed off.

"Is everything okay?" I questioned. She sighed. "Well... tonight was supposed to be our anniversary dinner since it is our 15th anniversary, but he hasn't come home from work like he was supposed to a couple of hours ago. He hasn't responded to any of my messages either."

That sounded weirdly like something Sam Holt would do just from the few times I had interacted with him, but I couldn't say that. "Maybe he's just working extensive overtime?" I was trying to help out. "I hope that's the case..." She said.

She handed me her I.D. Colleen Holt. Pidge's mom. I gave it back to her. "Alright, let me just...." I called for Pidge from the door. She grabbed her backpack and ran out. Colleen thanked me and left.

Now it was just me and Keith. I figured I needed to tell someone about the dream I had. It felt weird to keep to myself. So, I paused the TV. Garfle Warfle Snick, Jr. No wonder it seemed to be for kids. Keith looked at me like I was crazy.

"We were just about to find out if the team would get enough quaz-cenbullion credits to win!" He shouted. I shrugged, "Well, there's something I need to talk about, and you happen to be the only one left." He crossed his arms. "Okay, fine. What's up?" I told him about the dream, skipping over some of the more... embarrassing parts. I only kept in the important bits, just the basic stuff, so he could understand.

When I was done, he started laughing. I stared at him. "Why are you laughing??" I asked. "Oh, man, Shiro!" He managed to say in between laughter, "You've got it bad!" I raised an eyebrow. "I've got what bad?"

"Do you not know what that means?" Keith implored. I shook my head. "Oh, well, you'll figure it out." He grinned. I shook my head, "No, Keith. Tell me now." The doorbell rang. "Well, that's my mom. Gotta run!" He ran toward the door, "Bye, Shiro!" I sighed. I would have to figure out what he meant some other time. Or maybe I could look it up and see.

I went upstairs and grabbed my laptop. I opened it up and searched, 'What does it mean to have it bad?' And hit enter. A Google Dictionary definition popped up on the screen.

Dictionary

Definitions from Oxford Languages · Learn more

have got it bad

phrase of have

INFORMAL

1. be very powerfully affected emotionally, especially by love.

2. be in a situation where one is treated badly or exploited.
"if you think you've got it bad now, how would you like to be paid to collect pebbles?"

Well, I knew I wasn't in a bad situation so that only left one option. And that option was WRONG. I didn't know what Keith was on, but people can't control dreams. They're random. Right?

I looked up 'What causes dreams?' And clicked on one of the links. I scrolled down to causes.

There are several theories about why we dream. Are dreams merely part of the sleep cycle, or do they serve some other purpose?

Possible explanations include:

representing unconscious desires and wishes

interpreting random signals from the brain and body during sleep

consolidating and processing information gathered during the day

working as a form of psychotherapy

Well, that was helpful. I needed something that actually agreed with me. I scrolled down until I found a section about the themes of dreams.

The themes of dreams can be linked to the suppression of unwanted thoughts and, as a result, an increased occurrence of that suppressed thought in dreams.

What? I kept reading.

Fifteen good sleepers were asked to suppress an unwanted thought 5 minutes prior to sleep.

The results demonstrate that there were increased dreams about the unwanted thought and a tendency to have more distressing dreams. They also imply that thought suppression may lead to significantly increased mental disorder symptoms.

Well, that wasn't helping my case. But what did a website know? I clicked on a couple more, but they said similar things.

Well... what did a few websites know?

I turned my laptop off and glanced outside. The sun hadn't set yet, so I grabbed a vodka and went to the porch, sitting down. I needed time to think about everything. Did I like Adam in that way? Did I see Adam as more of a friend? I thought about it for a moment. If that many sites said that I did, and Keith said that I did, and all the other kids said that I did, and even my own subconscious said that I did...

Oh.

Oh.

Oh my god.

I cracked open my vodka. So, I did. Didn't I? That's how it seemed.

...Oh!

That's what Keith meant. All this time, everything he had said was hinting at this realization. The 'You'll figure it out' things he had said to me so many times? This realization was that. And it was terrifying.

What was I supposed to do? How could I bring this up to Adam? Should I bring this up to Adam? No. No, I shouldn't. That's too big of a risk and wouldn't be worth losing a friend over. I would get over it, I'm sure of it. Still, it was real.

I looked down. The vodka was empty. That was quick. I walked back inside and threw the bottle away. I needed to write this down. I went upstairs and grabbed my journal. The last time I had touched it was when Lotor was reading it.

I wrote down everything that happened today. It was easier to process everything after it had been written. That's why I kept a journal in the first place. At least, that was usually the case.

This time, I was still struggling to process what I had just realized. I mean, it wasn't the fact that Adam was a guy. I knew that I was gay by now. That wasn't the issue. The issue was I had only talked to Adam like three times. It shouldn't be possible.

And he was quite literally only the guy who delivered food to my house. That was following every stereotype. I didn't ask to be caught up in all of this. I just needed a cake so the kids would leave me alone.

I sighed and looked outside. The sun was beginning to set now, so I walked back out there. The sunset was very pretty. I couldn't help but imagine Adam sitting beside me on the porch.

It would've been nice. We might've talked about the sunset, or maybe we'd talk about the kids and whatever shenanigans they did that day. Maybe we'd plan to go to dinner or something.

If only it were real and not just a figment of my imagination. Not just something I made up.

Maybe it would be real one day.