Bear, Otter, & the Kid 03 - The Art of Breathing (34 page)

I have to stop thinking that it will be. These days nothing is how it used to be. Not all of it is my fault. Not all of it is bad. I think for the longest time I’d forgotten I was actually
alive
, much less that I was capable of contributing to society as I should have been. I’d become a sort of shadow of my former self. Sure, I still talked big (and a lot), and I laughed and loved and lived, but it wasn’t with my whole heart like I know I used to do. But now that Dom’s here again, I… I don’t know. It doesn’t seem fair to put all of that on him. For either of us. I shouldn’t be so dependent on him to make me whole. He shouldn’t be expected to carry the weight of my burdens on his shoulders. That’s not how friendships work. Each must give the same amount and take away from it the same. That’s the only way people can survive with each other.

So, yes. Any other thoughts I may have had about him are over and done. I’ve moved on with that part of my life, because, really, I’m just happy to have him
in
my life again. I’m learning it’s all I should ever have really wanted to begin with. I didn’t know that then. But I’m understanding it now.

I may be the smartest almost-twenty-year-old ecoterrorist in the world, but I can be pretty fucking stupid sometimes.

And I’m sorry about that.

Why, you ask?

Because I know what you’re thinking. I know what type of story you’re hoping this is going to turn out to be. You think now that Dom and I are on the right path again that one day, he’ll look at me the same way I’ve looked at him and something will click in his head and he’ll say,
Oh, there you are. There you are and I don’t know why I didn’t see it there before. It’s okay, though, because I see it now and I’ll see it every day for the rest of my life.

This isn’t that kind of story.

And I think I’m okay with that. Or, rather, I will be, with time. I have the most important thing back: my friend. And I’d rather have that part of him than nothing at all.

That’s important, too, don’t you think?

“N
O
,” C
OREY
says, sitting next to me as we stare at my laptop. “I don’t think that’s important too. As a matter of fact, I think that’s a load of manure you’re trying to sell there, and you should know I’m not going to buy your shit.”

“Oh good Lord,” I mutter.

He rolls his eyes. “My God, could you
sound
like any more of a sanctimonious prig?” He lowers his voice to attempt to imitate me. It’s not very good, but only because he’s a big fat jerk. “Oh, my name is Tyson, and I’m just so happy to have the friendship again that I’ve forgotten that I want Dom to pile-drive his wiener into my butt. Oh, it’s all about the friendship now and blah, blah, blah, and I won’t do anything more about it because I’m too chickenshit.”

“Are you finished?” I ask him dryly.

“Possibly. I haven’t quite figured out yet if I want to hug you because you look like a lost puppy or if I want to strangle you because you look like a rabid skunk.”

I frown at him. “You shouldn’t strangle any animal. Even if it’s a rabid skunk. Did you know that every day, thousands of animals are—”

“Tyson, I love you,” he says, “but I also love sausage almost as much or equally or even possibly greater than, so I really couldn’t care less about hearing another one of your animal guilt trips. Are all vegetarians this insistent?”

“Not all of them. But you should thank your lucky stars I’m not a vegan. They’re far worse than vegetarians. What do you call a vegan who likes to masturbate?”

“What?”

“A nondairy creamer.” I burst out laughing because it’s fucking hysterical.

“I don’t get it,” he says, staring at me like
I’m
the weird one.

I sigh. “They don’t eat anything that has a face.”

He grimaces. “Well, when you put it like that. But isn’t that vegetarianism?”

I am horrified. “No! My
God
, there’s a
huge
difference. For one, vegetarians don’t—”

“Oh,
wow
!” Corey says, his eyes going wide.

“What?”

“I just realized I don’t care about what you’re saying at all. This sure is awkward. Well, it will be if you decide to keep talking.”

I shake my head. “Hell is going to be a very sad place for you, my friend.”

“Of course you’d keep talking,” he says. “Can we please finish planning for our trip? The rate we’re going, you’ll still be talking when we’re supposed to leave.”

“That’s still two weeks away!”

“I know,” he says. “But you’d still be talking, trust me. It’s part of the McKenna legacy. You can’t hide it, even if you’re a Thompson now.”

I look back down on the directions I pulled up on Google Maps. Seafare to Tucson, Arizona. Fifteen hundred miles. Driving from the ocean to the middle of the desert in the middle of summer. Yeah, I know. It sounds awful, doesn’t it? Ah, the things I do for my friends.

“It says it’s 105 degrees today,” I tell Corey.

“Yeah, that’s pretty good for June.”

“That’s
pretty good
? Are you out of your damn mind? No one should live in a place like that!”

He laughs. “You people from the coasts are such whiny little bitches. It’s just a little heat.”

“You just said you were freezing and it’s sixty degrees out,” I remind him.

“Hypocrisy is a double-edged sword. Can we finish this, please? We don’t have a lot of time before you have to go get ready for your date.”

“
It’s not a date!
”

“Oh please,” Corey says. “The man volunteered to come and whisk you away from the house under the guise of taking you out to lunch so we could decorate for your surprise birthday party that you’re not supposed to know anything about. He practically
jumped
at the chance. The only other time I’ve seen anything act as quick is a dog salivating for a bone.”

“Two things: One, that was dirty and you should be ashamed of yourself. Two, I’ve already attempted to go down that road and it ended with nothing but disaster, so we’re curbing that permanently.”

“When in the history of God’s green earth did you
ever
attempt to go down that road?” he asks me. “As I see it, he kissed a girl, you said you were moving away, he married said girl, and then you hid for four years. Oh, and then there was the little matter of you being
underage
the whole time he knew you. What’d you think he’d do? Pop your cherry at your sweet sixteen?”

“No, of course not. Because that’d be ludicrous.” Actually, I
did
think that for quite some time. I’m pretty sure that’s all I masturbated to for the entire time I was fifteen years old.

“That’s not the only thing that’s ludicrous,” Corey mumbles.

“Kid!” Bear calls from the kitchen.

“What?”

“Otter and I are heading out. We have some… stuff… to go pick up… at the bank… store. Have fun with your birthday lunch.”

“That was really subtle,” I hear Otter say to Bear. “You couldn’t come up with anything better than bank store?”

“I’m an honest person,” Bear retorts. “It’s hard for me to make up lies.”

“You liar. I love you.”

“Gross. I love you too.”

Then there’s the sounds of kissing. “God, that’s
all
you guys do!” I groan loudly. “Go suck face in the car.”

Otter laughs. “What do you think, baby? We too old to go park somewhere and suck face?”

“Your back will start to hurt,” Bear says.

“Ah, romance,” Otter says, and then the door closes behind them.

“Can I go watch if they park and suck face?” Corey asks me.

“Yes, please leave,” I tell him. “That would make my life so much simpler. And this fixation you have on my brother and Otter is really unhealthy. They’re related to me. And old.”

“Can you imagine what it’s going to be like seeing Otter holding a baby?” he asks. “My God, if I didn’t have a daddy kink before, I sure as hell will now. He’s going to be a total DILF.”

“What’s a DILF?”

“Dad I’d Like to Fu—”

“Don’t you dare finish that.”

“Fuck,” he says.

The computer chimes. Incoming Skype call. “He’s early,” Corey says as he connects to the call.

I don’t know what I’m expecting when the window opens up. I know that he’s a drag queen and doesn’t always wear outrageous costumes that I’ve only heard Corey describe, but I can’t help but be disappointed when I’m looking at a thin-looking man named Sandy instead of a fiery diva named Helena Handbasket. Don’t get me wrong, he’s cute in a sort of bookish way, sitting with his legs curled underneath him on what looks to be a very expensive couch. His hair is blond and short and his face is almost gaunt, but from the stories Corey has told me, apparently his personality is a complete reversal when he’s performing. It sounds amazing.

“Baby doll!” Sandy says warmly to Corey. His voice is slightly deeper than I would have expected. “It’s good to see your pretty face.”

“Hi, Sandy,” Corey says. “How’s tricks?”

He chuckles, and it’s a throaty sound, and I wonder if there’s a little bit of Helena in it. “Turning left and right,” he promises. He glances over. “Oh, are you babysitting? Where’s your friend Tyson?”

“
Baby
sitting?” I say, outraged.

“This is Ty,” Corey says, wrapping an arm around my shoulders and squishing my face with his hand. “He just looks like jailbait.”

“My word,” Sandy says with a purr. “The boys just must be all
over
you. Honey, you should seriously consider just tattooing ‘twink’ across your forehead and ‘open for business’ across your ass. It’d save you a lot of trouble.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” I say, pushing Corey away.

“And it’s your birthday, isn’t it? Happy birthday, baby doll. Why, I remember what it was like when
I
turned twelve years old. Hopefully, you’ll get a big-boy bike this year.” He winks at me.

“I’m twenty,” I say, realizing I probably sound very ridiculous. “In a couple of days.”

“And now I feel officially ancient,” he sighs prettily. “Tell me I’m beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful,” we both intone.

“He needs to hear that every now and then,” Corey whispers to me loudly. “He’s thirty-one now, and it’s starting to show.”

“I heard that,” Sandy says, scowling at the both of us. “When you come into the bar for my show, I promise I am going to embarrass the crap out of both of you.”

“I’m not old enough,” I say.

“Darling,” Sandy says, “as long as you stick with me, you’ll be fine. I pretty much own that bar, and getting you in won’t be an issue. No drinking for you, though. You understand me? I wouldn’t want your first time in Tucson to be under the watchful guard of the Tucson Police Department. They’re not known for their hospitality.”

“I promise,” I say, weirdly giddy that I’m getting into a bar to see a drag show.

“And besides,” Corey says, “there’s a cop here who would just
murder
him if that should happen. It’s a love that’s rather unrequited.”

Sandy sits up on his couch, grinning evilly. “Unrequited? And a police officer? Oh my
stars
. You tell your Aunt Sandy all about him.”

My face is burning up, and I wonder very seriously if Corey would suffer much if I strangled him to death. It’d probably be easier to go with stabbing him. “There’s nothing to tell,” I mutter. “He’s been my friend since I was a kid. That’s it.”

“The fact that your face is now the color of a fire truck says otherwise,” Sandy says. He sounds tickled. “What’s his name?”

“Dominic,” Corey says in a singsong voice.

“Very manly,” Sandy says. “And he’s a cop?”

“You should see him in uniform,” Corey says. “It’s positively mouthwatering. He’s essentially a giant with muscles you just want to bite.”

That’s pretty much the truth, but I won’t give either of them the satisfaction. “Can we please talk about something else?”

“Sure,” Corey says. “Sandy, how’s Darren?”

Sandy scowls prettily. “That man,” he says. “I do believe he’s a waste of human existence. The nerve he has to even
think
he can talk to me the way he does. One of these days, I’m going to cut him down to size, the overgrown ignoramus.”

“Darren?” I tease. “The fact that your face is now the color of a fire hydrant says otherwise.”

“You need to respect your elders,” Sandy says, flint and steel in his eyes. “I’m not above putting a sassy little twinkie boy like yourself over my knee and giving you a proper education with the palm of my hand and my flogger. On stage. Bare-assed. In front of everyone.”

“Yes, sir,” I say meekly.

“That’s better. Now, you boys all set? It’s only two weeks away, you know, and if you’re anything like me, you probably should start packing your wigs and feather boas right now.”

“I don’t have either,” I say sadly. “What have I done with my life that I have nary a wig or feather boa?”

“Oh, Tyson,” Sandy says, “that can be easily remedied. I do believe I still have some leftover Cher wigs from my early days. As my drag mother Vaguyna Muffman used to say, ‘Helena, aside from the stage presence, the accessories of the queen are her most important asset. Make sure you’re careful to protect them when getting spunk shot on you in a twelve-man gangbang because come is very hard to clean from Lycra and feathers.’”

“That’s… sage advice,” I say.

“Isn’t it? Vaguyna did have a way with words, bless her heart. Now, you’ll be staying with me, Tyson, while you’re both here, as long as you don’t mind sharing the bed with Corey in the guest room. And you know you can stay as long as you like.
Mi casa
is your
casa
, and all that. And, Corey, it’ll be lovely to finally have you home. It’s been far too long.”

“Missed you too,” Corey says, blowing a kiss. “We’ll be ready. It’s probably going to take us two days to get there. I’ll let you know where we’re at.”

Sandy nods. “Take your time and—”

He’s cut off when a dog howls in the background. “
Wheels
!” he shouts, looking annoyed. “That animal, I swear.”