At Risk Youth

Chapter 7

Do you want to stay over? she'd said.

Hunter had never heard a more wonderful sentence in his life. He'd texted his mom to say he was sleeping over at Billy's, and at 12:04, on her way home, she'd texted back to tell him she hoped he'd had a good night and liked the Chinese food and to tell Mr. and Mrs. Tanush thanks for having him, the usual over-protective mom spiel. He would have texted her back, but he'd been asleep, holding Andy in his arms, sleeping better than he ever had.

He woke up first. At first he had the disorientation of waking up in a new place, his senses taking everything in. A dog barking. Someone distantly yelling, "Naw, man, you can't park that thing up in there!" The incessant nervous chatter of birds wondering where summer had gone. And then he felt the warm girl against him, her chest rising and falling, platinum blonde hair spilling over her pillow and his arm, and he felt at home.

"Good morning," he murmured.

She grunted beside him and turned over on her stomach.

He lay there, wide awake, for some time, believing and not believing where he found himself, content just to be there, until nature called. He held it as long as he could, not wanting to disturb Andy, but when the time came, he eased his arm out from under her head and slipped out from under the blanket, though he took an extra second to cover her up and kiss her cheek before he went.

He peed. He stretched. He exulted in the morning and in the memory of last night, having cum three times. And then, feeling better than he had in his life, he went to the fridge to scrounge up some breakfast, and found it empty except for a half-empty jar of mayonnaise, some expired pickles, and one lonely, moldy egg roll.

"Oh, fucking really...?"

He checked the freezer, which was stocked nearly to bursting. Hungryman dinners, Elio's pizzas, a pyramid of Hot Pockets, assorted Stouffers offerings ranging from mac and cheese to lasagna to Salisbury steak, and a neat stack of every frozen appetizer Fridays offered.

"Oh. Fucking really."

All of this equaled a trip to the bodega. He came back brandishing Tropical brand cheddar, a dozen eggs, a pound of butter, and a quart of milk, as well as, after some debate, salt and pepper. He even brought ketchup packets, thinking she might be one of those. He had unpacked the bounty and was ready to start on breakfast when the yowling started. From her seat atop the table, the heavy, slumped form came alive, eyes focusing on him, and Ariel began demanding her breakfast.

"Fucking really?"

Ariel licked her lips, lifted her head, and began yowling louder.

"Listen. Thing. I'll feed you, but be quiet."

Ariel lurched to her feet with great effort, waddled to the edge of the table, and dropped. Hunter had heard glasses shatter more quietly.

"Shh!" he said, while she plodded over to him. He found the food bag on top of the fridge and poured a cup into the bowl labeled Princess by the radiator, and silence circulated.

He moved with practiced speed, finding a blasted but serviceable pan forgotten in a cabinet, cracking the eggs, seasoning them, and pouring them in, whisking with a fork to keep the curds fluffy, then adding the cheese. When he was satisfied, he took them off the heat, and was turning to go back and gently wake Andy up when he heard the screen door fly open, and before he could process what was happening, a young black woman was striding into the house, dreadlocks flying behind her.