Wicked Boy (66)

*

I stare, nose wrinkled — unsure whether to be irritated or confused and,

"... You gonna tell him, babydoll?" Lexi leans her weight back on her elbows, her rather thick head of hair bouncing. She then blows a bubble, and when it pops, she smiles around her deflated gum. "That Ez says you ain't up for grabs?"

*

"... He doesn't really have a say in the matter,"  I don't smile back, an indignant lick of irritation at my spine, but I do reach for Lexi's outstretched canister of treats.  "Seeing as how I'm not an escort."

"Oh, boy. A bachelor, are ya'?" Lexi looks all too thrilled at my admission, her manicured nails sliding against the tips of my fingers. I shake the treats in my grasp, which swats away her lingering touch.  "Jeez. Just testin' the waters."

"I can see that.  But I'd prefer if you didn't."  I smile then, a surly set to it, brows raised — guard up, "Ezra didn't say anything to you.  Did he?"

"Why, I can't believe," Lexi scoffs around an indignant laugh, but then it gives out when our eyes meet. She huffs, chuckling again, but much more genuine, "Alright, hun.  Ya' caught me."

"Okay, then."

"But.  I heard gossip," Lexi leans into her shoulder coyly, false lashes curved upwards on a hooded gaze, "that there was a new man in town, handsome and hangin' around the Lykaios kids."

"... Rather mild for a beauty parlor rumor.  I just got here yesterday, so I doubt it."

"Ain't you frank?" Lexi snorts, head lolling with a roll of her eyes. She plucks the sunglasses that dangle from her collar and props them atop her nose with a spread of her fingers.

"Nothin' mild about those two." Lexi murmurs, bouncing her nails against the wood, "... How long have ya' known Ez?"

I watch her for a moment. The brunette's lips part when she pops her gum, teeth white, a stark contrast to dark lipstick, and darker lenses make it hard to follow her gaze. But I feel her scrutiny mirroring mine.

"I'll give you a few business days to figure it out." I step away, crouching to examine the two feet of shade beneath Taylor Evan's porch.

Lexi laughs again,

"It's startin' to make sense."

Grant titters nervously at her comment.  I don't pay any mind to either of them or my discomfort, because I can be rather stubborn if I want to be.

And I came here for a reason.

I don't feel like going home empty-handed, figurative or not.

"This must be June."

A somewhat dopey golden retriever, smattered with drying mud, pants at me. He's curled in the deeper corner, where his owner is sprawled carelessly over the stairs — like he wants to be near Lexi, even when hiding.

"... I don't believe he's in distress," Grant adds wryly, and I turn to see him hunkered down right by me. He smiles and shuffles closer, as if he's said something worth laughing about, so I smile a little in return. If only to be polite.

"June's never in distress," Lexi sighs, but it soon turns to a groan, and she squints up at the sun that threatens to turn the weather uncomfortably warm, "just me. I didn't do the kid thing for a reason, and now look at me. This is how I spend my day off."

Grant hums, patting the tops of his knees with his large palms,

"You're lazin' about on a porch, just as you would at home."

"I struggled across your grandpa's field with a crutch in wet filth."  Lexi spits back, "and the whole time, he was hobblin' alongside me tryin' to get me to buy his jam. He's heartless."

"Heartless? He's a businessman."

"That little bald head of his hides the mind of a swindler, and you know it."

"Well. At least June enjoys the attention.  And that swindler made a few bucks."

Grant tilts his head. I glance at him, then back to June, and mimic the movement.

Grant sighs, loud and exasperated.

"No wonder he's hidin' from polite society. Lex bedazzled his collar."

Lexi huffs, affronted,

"I sure as hell did," she pops her hand over the top of her glittery cast with a passive stretch, gum shoved beneath her molar. She smacks it, "'cause we're a team. We match. See?"

"... Poor guy," Grant wrinkles his nose. I open the canister of treats, plucking out a chalky-textured piece of jerky — and extend my palm to the dog. He only stares. My loafer sinks further into accumulated mud with a squelch. "He's a boy, Lex. You already named him June."

"June suits him," I say. I mean to think it, but it dangles there, at the center of the conversation. My nerves almost quiver, but then I discover — that I'm not beneath anyone's thumb now.

I can say what I want. I can say what I think.

I never thought of the name June, not for a boy — as Grant puts it, but with white-gold fur and a tendency to run from thunder...

"When I think of rain with sun, I think of June — or July." I add, "He looks like a June."

"June? Don't they say April showers?" Grant reaches in the canister of treats and plucks one out, encroaching on my squat to wave his offering in June's direction. He chuckles at what I've said, like it's silly, and before — something so innocent would've burned. "Not June."

"June sounds like it would be the color blue." I counter quickly, childishly, shrugging into myself when I realize how little sense it makes. June's collar glitters, and his big brown eyes shift to us in recognition of his name. Then he looks right at me. He pants again, adjusting his spot, tail belatedly thumping against the house's foundation.

"Yep. It does suit him, huh? I thought of June too." Lexi's voice brightens, and she slaps a hand against the wood with validation. "And.  His favorite color is blue."

My first instinct, one that she rubbed wrong too soon, bristles at the idea of camaraderie. I set it aside with another look towards the golden retriever. I feel a sore part of myself open a little more.

Grant squints over at the stairs,

"Big deal. Dogs can see two colors; it was a fifty-fifty chance. And June is a girl's name."

"It ain't, 'cause I decided it ain't. I don't know why everyone has to fuss about his name and his collar."

"... Well, I guess he's a dog, anyway." Grant concedes with a sigh. "Can't bother him too much."

"Shouldn't anyway." Lexi sits up on her elbows. Taylor Evan's screen door squeaks, "didn't know bedazzlin' was a crime against masculinity."

I smile a little more. Warm and not certain as to why.  Then I glance back at Lexi's cast. It shimmers with her initials. Grant stands with a sigh, greeting Taylor just long enough to take the honey from his hands.

"You weren't supposed to decorate that thing, anyhow." He scolds. "They said it needs to breathe."

"Quit pestering Ms. Nash."  Taylor pats his balding head with a handkerchief, side-stepping Grant. He waves at me with thanks. I thank him back.  "She's on crutches, Grant.  Can't you see that?"

Grant sputters at the lecture, turning to face a snickering Lexi, who hides her smile behind colored nails and gemmed rings.  I stare at them, then my eyes flick down to the pendant that rests in her clavicle.

It's pretty.

"... Don't let that boy take your honey," The old man throws a thumb in his grandson's direction, who crosses his arms with an exhale. Mr. Evan squints in suspicion, "I don't trust him. He's not right in the head.  Wasn't raised right."

"Pap."

" — And I'm growin' garlic and buckwheat, so tell your missionary friends, alright? Don't bring me any bible pamphlets, and I'll cut ya' all a deal."

I think to correct him.  Then I think better of it. Mr. Evan makes quick work of crossing his large stretch of land, ignoring Grant's calls, likely off to lure another unsuspecting passerby into his hands.

"He can't keep tellin' people that I'm not right in the head." Grant puffs out his chest, planting one hand firmly against it. "I'm saner than half this town. I'm saner than he is, for sure."

He exhales, plopping down next to Lexi, who is still snickering — lit cigarette now dangling from her mouth. I scoot further under the porch. June's tail thumps louder, happy for the company, but he doesn't budge.

"Sure ya' are, hun." Lexi exhales a cloud of smoke, "you were just arguin' gender norms for my canine companion. But," she shrugs, "sure ya' are.  Sane."

"I was just sayin' that,"

"I don't care what you were sayin'. Anywho, Milan, was it?" Lexi pats the stairs again, like a beckoning for me to join their conversation. I cringe at the mispronunciation of my name. "Milan.  Tell us about yourself."

"Um," I'm on my knees in mud now, growing increasingly more dirty than I'm used to — having crawled beneath the stairs to pet June with a damp hand.

Why don't you help me out a bit?

"It's Milan," I call back, raising my voice slightly. June stretches forward with two pats of his paws, craning his neck in hopes of more attention.

"Fancy.  You ain't a Goule,"  Lexi adjusts so that she can peek at me through the cracks of wood, "Milan.  And you ain't family.  So?  What's your story?"

I sigh. June's wet muzzle digs into my forearm as he snuffles. And then I hear something else, a tiny sound — a whimper, and squint in the darkness.

"I'm a friend," I say, distracted. I try to listen for another noise, but Grant and Lexi's chatter drowns it out.  "No story."

"He said he lives with Ezra."  Grant whispers. "Said he's his roommate."

"See?  Story." Lexi grows louder with intrigue as I click my tongue to beckon June closer. He only buries his head in my arm again, an attempt to have his ears scratched a second time. "C'mon.  I'm bored. You really ain't a client?  Wait.  Guess you wouldn't need to pay anyone to look at —"

"Are you flirting with me?"  I wrinkle my nose, bending closer to the ground to move in.  I click my tongue at June again, "C'mere.  It's okay."

Grant wheezes.

"Shut up, Grant."  Lexi's tone turns from astonished to mortified rather quickly, "I can be subjective about beauty — I run a beauty parlor, for God's sake.  I'm too old to flirt, anyhow."

"Mhm."

There's another whimper.

"Those Goules are in there, all the time, gettin' prettied up — by yours truly.  That means I'm unsusceptible to good looks.  I'm just tryin' to save the boy from Ezra's greedy lil' aunt.  And I know a lot more than —"

"Unsusceptible.  Big word, Lex."

"Grant.  You want me to call your grandfather back over here?"

"June, c'mere,"  I call again, quiet — almost shy.  I don't think I've ever been good with anything cute.  June is... kind of cute.  Probably — under the mud.  "It's okay.  Are you hungry?"

"Milan, the baby voice never works on June."  Lexi informs, tired and put out,  "He's immune — that or lazy as shit.  He likes to be pushed out."

"Pushed out?"

"From the rear.  Just push him out from under the spot by the stairs."

"Why didn't you say that?  ... I'll have to lay in the mud,"  I grumble, then squint.

"I have beach towels ready for ya'."

"Great."  I gently push June's face away, patting the earth around him. June isn't too happy that my interest is elsewhere, so finally, he shuffles to the side.  "No wonder Ezra...."

"Oh yeah, Ezra thinks you're lazy, too."  Grant tacks on.  "That's why he sent Milan."

"He didn't send me."

"Lazy?"  Lexi yelps, "I broke my leg!"

"Hey, I'm just the messenger."  Grant is laughing loudly.  "Maybe you can send him a picture of that godawful, bedazzled cast."

"He is the most unforgivin' little shit.  I swear, time did him wrong.  He was such a cute kid and now look at him."

"No way in hell he was ever cute."

The whimper sounds again.  June snuffles at his midsection.  I'm not sure what he snuffles at, but a vague mass turns against him in the darkness,

"Hey."  I hesitantly interrupt their squabble, "Is there another — is there another animal under here?"

That, apparently, is a sound for alarm.  Grant, instead of descending the three stairs, jumps from its side instead.  Lexi whistles in approval — and I flinch just almost enough to smack my head.

"Jesus."

"Jesus, what?  Get out from under there,"  Grant hisses.  He tugs at my leg, "what if it's a raccoon?  Or a rat?"

I grimace, glaring over my shoulder,

"Unlikely.  Do rats whimper?"

"Whimper?"

I push onto my chest then, ignoring the nasty plod of rainwater and soil, and use my elbows to pull me forward.  Grant shuffles around anxiously, his phone flashlight a sudden assistance from behind me,

"Milan.  The hell is wrong with you?  Whimperin' doesn't mean it can't bite."

And in hindsight — quite stupidly, I reach for June's midsection.  There's another whine, and a wet, cold nose that buries into my outstretched palm.  Then, a lick.

"Oh."  I whisper.  Then louder, "... There's another dog."

—

(I spent the weekend rereading Wicked Boy and it made me SO excited to work in this story.  The slow burn is REAL and I felt it in my bones.  I can’t wait to move these characters together.

It was hard to edit this chapter because of the prevalence of the accents in Grant and Lexi's back and forth, so if there are any errors I apologize!  I also sometimes write characters who have shitty takes, but I hope it obvious that the takes are meant to be shitty — and therefore other characters get on them for it.

I'm also sorry that Ezra wasn't around!  It's Milan's time to grow and Milan's future relationship/friendship with Lexi is SO important for his growth as a character, so I have to establish it somehow.  Lexi is also important for some future insight into Ezra, who isn't as forthcoming.  Regardless, I've started the next chapter, and you'll be happy to know Ezra will be in it 😂)

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