1. All Right, All Right, All Right #2
Oscar’s heart skipped. Not a beat or anything, like in those YA novels that had kept him going through the toughest years of high school, those stories of boys touching and girls kissing and gender-queer people finding love under the bleachers.
No, Oscar’s heart did a proper flip, like a pancake.
His stomach grumbled, reminding him of the cookies he was supposed to bake.
CowBoy0705’s message stared at him, that closed-mouthed emoji burning holes into Oscar’s soul. Well, not CowBoy0705. Aaron.
The dots began to bounce again.
CowBoy0705: What are you up to?
Oscar glanced at the TV. Luigi had curled up on top of the amp Oscar had inherited from Lina’s boyfriend, Ryan.
Ryan was big on tech and having the latest shiny toys, even though he didn’t know a live from a neutral.
It would be a shame to start the boss level and startle Lu.
He looked so peaceful. Oscar packed away any inclination to work and turned to his phone again.
Spikey: You know…the usual. Sipping pina coladas by the poolside, getting a foot massage. Just a regular Tuesday. Nothing too fancy.
CowBoy0705: How’s your recovery?
CowBoy0705: Is that too personal?
Spikey: Very stalker-y. You could have led with what you’re doing, for example. If you wanted to pass as a non-stalker, I mean.
CowBoy0705: Thanks for the tips. Looks like you know a bunch about stalking. I’m enjoying my last few days of freedom.
Spikey: You going to prison? Let me guess…
CowBoy0705: Haha. No! I start working again on Monday.
Spikey: What do you do?
Oscar lay back against the armrest, watching the bouncing dots like they were the most entertaining thing on the planet.
Maybe he’d put that into the beta feedback.
The typing animation in my DMs held my attention better than your game with your silly unbeatable boss.
Oscar wondered how long it would take for them to send him on his way if he did that.
His lips curved, painting a smile on his face, as Aaron’s long explanatory message came in. Oscar read it like a poem, studied it like it was “The Road Not Taken” for Miss Denver’s class in the eighth grade, but Aaron was a road Oscar very much wanted to take.
Spikey: Thank you for the essay.
Oscar’s throat clogged when the dots failed to appear. He turned on his side, reading Aaron’s message again, as though someone was about to come into the room and quiz him about the many odd jobs Aaron did to get by. Scrolling back up their chat, Oscar reread his own texts.
“Maybe you should be a comedian, Spike,” he muttered to himself, realizing he hadn’t actually given Aaron a single serious response.
The game soundtrack droned on in the background, but Oscar was definitely not in the mood.
Tossing around on the couch grew uncomfortable after a few minutes, his neck aching from a day hunched over and the hard stiff arm of his couch.
Restless, Oscar sprang to his feet and headed to the kitchen. Papa’s cookies would make him feel better.
Right? …Right?
Oscar’s phone vibrated while he was scooping cookie dough onto the baking sheet. He couldn’t help his smile as the avatar popped up on the screen, that corny username beside it.
CowBoy0705: Next time I’ll tell you I sip pina coladas for a living…
Spikey: You asked me what I was doing, not what I did for a living…
Oscar popped the tray into the oven, washed his hands, reached for his phone, and started to type despite the bouncing dots.
He sat on the wooden bench built into the corner of his kitchen and told Aaron about going back to college in the fall.
Not that he would actually be going anywhere.
Oscar attended all his classes from the spot he was currently sitting in, following online lectures and digital presentations, squeezing in a few hours of part-time work whenever he could.
CowBoy0705: That’s really cool. I wanted to go into nursing, but I had to choose. Couldn’t really afford to pay for that and surgery.
Oscar sympathized. He’d always dreamed of one day heading off to college, living in a dorm, getting the full campus experience. But he was lucky he’d even had the small sum Papa had managed to leave him. And Oscar wasn’t the scholarship type. So he, too, had faced that choice.
Oscar had chosen his sanity, or whatever measure of it he had, and compromised by enrolling in the only free college anywhere in the vicinity.
In the end, he’d have his Computer Science degree and all the necessary credits.
Nobody would really care whether or not he’d gone to frat parties or played beer pong in the dorms the night before an exam.
The smell of baking cookies broke his heart. He couldn’t wait to dig in.
By the time Oscar had his first bite, he’d learned about Aaron’s recovery and the nurse the clinic had sent over.
Oscar told him about Sandra, who had come to his apartment twice a day for the first fortnight, then once a day, and finally once a week, until she’d said goodbye to him the previous weekend.
Oscar could take care of himself now. He could lift his arms. The surgeon was happy with his results.
When Oscar finally looked up from his phone, the sky had gone dark. Through the window next to him, the glow of the moon bounced off the roof across the alley. The TV had gone on standby, the console asleep, and Luigi was finally awake, mewing at his ankles for dinner.
“Let’s get you some wet food, bud,” Oscar said, bending to rub the fur between Luigi’s ears.
Lu began to purr almost instantly, bumping his head against Oscar’s shin.
He had come a long way from the scruffy street cat Oscar had found sniffing at the garbage in the alley two weeks after he’d moved in.
His fur was all velvet now, black and shiny with a pretty white stripe going down his chest, and eyes like the yellow moon on the cover of the storybook Oscar had favored as a child.
He put the phone down for the first time in hours, taking the empty plate of cookies to the sink and opening the cupboard with Luigi’s selection of pouches.
“Salmon?” he asked, glancing down at the cat. Luigi’s excited trill was confirmation enough. Oscar smiled as he squeezed the chunky bits and thick gravy into Luigi’s bowl, relishing the infinity signs Lu kept rubbing around his feet. “There you go.”
Oscar bent down to give Luigi his luxury plate. He’d certainly come a long way since the first time they’d met. Both of them had.
Oscar’s phone lit up again. His eyes followed.