Chapter 5
Five
Liam
Last night when Teddy came back from Asher’s, it was obvious that he wasn’t okay. In fact, it’s been a while since he’s been his usual self. Most of the time, he’s bouncy and excited. Just a ray of sunshine for no fucking reason at all.
I haven’t seen him like that in too long. I got him high, and we watched some TV. He was tight-lipped about what happened, so I didn’t bother him about it.
But it’s all I could think about at work today. I asked Damon about it, and he thought Teddy looked pretty upset when he left Asher’s house, too. Which didn’t help me at all.
So not only have I been working in the blazing hot sun all day, but I’m also grumpy as shit. It’s six o’clock and Damon’s just now dropping me off at my place. On some days, we get off earlier than this, and on some, later even.
We stopped at the corner store nearby, so I could grab a bottle of cheap whiskey because it’s just that kind of day.
There’s no way I’ll be able to unwind without liquor tonight, not with the anger building up within me.
Everything keeps adding up and I don’t need to cause any problems. I need to get home, have some drinks, and sleep.
I slap hands with Dame before stepping out of the car and approach my room. There’s no light shining through the tacky hotel curtains in the window; Teddy’s probably asleep since he had to work early this morning.
I open the door and immediately notice the bed is still made from this morning and Teddy’s nowhere to be seen.
For fuck’s sake. I slam the door with the sole of my boot.
Where the fuck is he? It’s still sort of early; I’m sure he’ll be home soon.
I sit down, beginning the process of unlacing my boots and toss my sweaty work shirt into the laundry basket.
It shouldn’t bother me this much that he’s not here; it’s not his job to tell me where he is twenty-four-seven, and it’s not my responsibility to keep track of him.
Actually, fuck that. I type out a text.
Me: Where are you?
Simple. No need to get so stressed out. The mild headache I feel radiating from my forehead doesn’t seem to get the memo though.
I pull a soda from the mini-fridge and uncap the whiskey before taking a few gulps from the bottle. I would usually take a shower first thing when I get home, but the anxiety coursing through my veins won’t allow me to do that yet.
I slip on my Nike slides and grab a pre-rolled joint from the nightstand.
The humid air envelops me as I step outside and drop my ass into the chair, setting the whiskey on the concrete beneath me.
As I light the joint, I see Roberto down the walkway sitting outside as usual.
“Hey, Berto!” I shout.
“What’s up?” he shouts back.
I stand up and walk about halfway to him, so I don’t have to yell in front of everyone’s rooms. “Did you see a guy at my room today?”
“Yeah. Little blond dude. He came and left pretty quickly.”
I’m standing in front of him now, so I just nod my head and let him hit the joint a couple times. “Alright, bro. Thanks. You want a couple shots? I’m not good company tonight, but you can hit the bottle.”
He holds up the six-pack of Modelo sitting next to him. “I’m good. Some other time, man.”
I dap him up before heading back to my spot. I’ve had at least five more swigs from the bottle and I’m feeling a lot calmer before my phone sounds off in my pocket.
The screen shows his contact picture—him throwing up a peace sign with a big smile on his face.
It’s all in shades of blue from the LED lights in the room we were in at Damon’s house.
He took the picture on my phone and set it as his contact.
He went the extra mile too and changed his name to “My Favorite Person”.
It usually brings a smile to my face, but not tonight. I answer the call. The first thing I hear is people talking loudly in the background and then the distinct sound of wind blowing into the speaker.
“Hi,” he says, sounding cheery as ever.
“Where are you?” I reply, sounding very much the opposite.
His breathing picks up. “Skating home now. Went to Danny’s place for a bit. What time is it?”
I can tell he’s at least drunk since he’s talking a mile a minute. Danny’s house isn’t too far though, so he should be here soon.
“It’s only eight. See you soon,” I say before hanging up.
God, he drives me crazy. If it was anyone else, I wouldn’t be reacting this way, but for some fucking reason, I can’t help worrying about him.
I’m not his dad, and he’s not a little kid anymore.
I don’t know when I’ll get that shit through my head, but it obviously won’t be tonight.
By the time I see Teddy peel into the parking lot on his longboard, my blood is swimming in my veins. My skin’s both numb and tingly from the alcohol.
He hops off the board, letting it collide with the curb in front of me.
He props his hands on his hips and takes a few panting breaths—he probably skated here as fast as he could.
I know he doesn’t like skating at night; it makes him nervous since there’s a lot of shady shit going on around here after the sun sets.
He pulls his headphones from his ears and lets the music play out loud—“Infinite” by Silverstein.
“His voice is so beautiful, right?” he asks between panting breaths.
I nod, still maintaining my stony expression.
“What’s got you so grumpy tonight? I mean you’re always mildly grumpy, but you seem grumpier than usual,” he says, talking faster than humanly possible. He probably popped a molly or something.
“You should let me know if you’re not going to be home when I get here.”
He cocks his head to the side. “Um, okay. But why? Didn’t think it really mattered. I mean I don’t want to inconvenience you at all, since you’re letting me stay here. My bad.”
It takes my last shred of patience to not interrupt his rambling. I shoot my arm out and grab his shoulder, making him look me in the eyes. His pupils are blown, and his cheeks are tinted pink. “Teddy. It’s not about that. I just worry if I don’t know what’s going on. Alright?”
He gulps and nods his head repeatedly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips and I catch myself staring at them. They’re dark red, almost like he’s wearing lipstick. They stand out against the golden skin of his face, so, of course, I always notice them.
He clears his throat and steps out of my hold.
“I get it, but you don’t have to worry about me anymore. I’m a big boy now.” He laughs awkwardly, and I don’t find it funny at all.
The problem is that I know I shouldn’t worry, but I do anyways; telling me not to doesn’t make it go away.
“Just let me know next time.”
“Yes, sir,” he says in mock seriousness. My teeth clench together. To this day, he’s still such a brat with me. It’s like he enjoys pressing my buttons.
He swoops down and grabs the bottle from the floor before upending it and swiping the back of his hand across his mouth. “Had a lot to drink tonight, have you?” he asks. His smile falls when he notices the look on my face.
“Come on. Cheer up. I’ll keep you updated from now on, I promise.” He pushes his plump lower lip out in a pouty gesture. And I don’t know why but his pleading starts to thaw me out a bit. It always does.
“Yeah, just got that bottle tonight,” I respond.
His brows lift behind his floppy hair and his eyes widen in an almost comical way. “I don’t understand how you never get sloppy with how much you drink.”
I shrug. I don’t get sloppy; nobody will ever catch me slipping like that. “I just pace myself.”
He grins. “You’re always so in control of yourself and your surroundings. It’s impressive. Wish I could be like that.”
“Well, that’s why you have me.”
His expression sobers a little. “Yeah… we even each other out.” He sighs and turns his head to the sky. “Not gonna lie, I took some molly tonight. Feeling a little jittery right now. You can go ahead to sleep if you want, since you have work in the morning.”
I check my phone. “I’ve got time.”
I watch the profile of his face as his round cheeks lift with a smile. “We need to get a second chair for you.”
He sits down on his longboard leaning against the column behind him. “This is fine for now. Everything feels good at the moment anyways,” he whispers with a dopey smile.
It makes my blood heat. I love when he’s happy like this; it’s infectious. He looks so tiny and adorable sitting down there.
He’s shirtless, wearing his seashell necklace.
He never takes it off—not even to shower.
It doesn’t reach past the straight line of his collarbones, almost like a choker.
My eyes zero in on the mark on his neck.
I can only assume Asher left it there when he went to get his things yesterday. It doesn’t sit right with me at all.
I grab two cigarettes from the pack and light them both before handing one to Teddy.
“Why’d you let him do that to you?” I motion to the dark blotch on his neck.
“What? Oh. He just kinda did it,” he says, looking a little uncomfortable. “He didn’t want to break up, tried to get me to stay.”
“It didn’t work?”
He shakes his head. “Nah. I’m here, aren’t I?”
I take another swig from the bottle, my vision’s swimming now—everything’s soft and fuzzy around the edges. “I don’t like it.”
His eyebrow quirks in confusion. “What?”
“The mark. I don’t like it.” And I’m just as confused as he is. Maybe it’s because of my sick feelings about him. He’s not my possession, he doesn’t actually belong to me. But those kinds of rational thoughts refuse to register in my whiskey-addled brain.
I slide from the chair and squat down in front of him. I notice his short, shaky breaths. The way his mouth parts slightly, like he wants to question me. The little wrinkle between his brows.
“Let me burn you.” He peers up at me with wide eyes, scanning my face. He knows I’m not fucking around—which is good because I hate repeating myself.
He presses his lips together and a short nod of his head tells me all I need to know.
“You’re still rolling, right?” I can tell he is, but I want to make sure. As long as he’s rolling, it’ll barely feel like a sting.
Another nod.
I bring the cigarette to my mouth and inhale deeply, making sure the ember is hot enough.
I look into his glassy, green eyes and lean forward. I press the cigarette to the skin of his sternum, right in the middle of his chest. He doesn’t flinch, but I hear his sharp intake of breath.
His entire face is bright red and his chest heaves against the tip of my cigarette, it’s gone out by now though.
In a split second, he lurches forward and slams his lips against mine.