Who We Are (The Seafare Chronicles 2)

Otter reaches up and scratches the back of his head. “Yeah, came back a few months ago.”

“Really? What for?”

“Yes, Otter, why did you come back?” the Kid asks him pleasantly.

Well, pleasantly enough.

Otter grins down at the Kid. “Down, boy,” he tells him. “I hear you loud and clear.”

“Do you?” the Kid asks. “I should hope so.”

The principal, the superintendent, and the guy I wish would fall into a deep crevice in the earth filled with molten lava have no idea what’s going on, but their eyes are going back and forth between my guys like they’re watching a really quick game of chess. It would be funny if I didn’t find the situation so unfunny. But, hey, see how I’m not overreacting? Yet? The Bear of a few weeks ago would have probably stood up and run out of the room and gone to the beach and ignored phone calls from his friends and family while he collapsed in on the weight of his own angst, imagining the ocean was swallowing him whole as the entire world began to shift and crack under the biggest earthquake ever known. The New and Improved Bear just internalizes everything until he can get the object of his consternation alone to ask some very pointed questions as to why said object was making goo-goo eyes at a man who must only work out his ass when he goes to the gym because, good Christ, does it look like it would be hard to the touch and why the fuck am I now thinking about touching another guy’s ass?

Well, at least we can cross the whole “gay for Otter” thing off the list, it says. Now it appears you’re just gay. Open your mouth. See if a purse falls out.

I don’t know which is better. Or worse. Crap.

Otter turns back to David. “I’m here with these two. Bear’s my boyfriend.”

“Partner,” the Kid says. “We’ve been over this, Otter. What grade are you in?”

Otter barely restrains his eye roll. “How could I forget? But you’re right.

Bear’s my partner.”

David turns to me with sudden interest, and I stand up from my chair and reach over to him. I don’t think it’s lost on anyone in the room when I try to make myself as big as possible, which I’m sure looks hilarious given that David is at least four inches taller than I am and outweighs me by a good fifty pounds. “Nice to meet you,” I say, my voice deep as I can make it, ignoring the way Otter and the Kid snort. “I’m Bear, Otter’s… partner.” I grip his hand and do my best to crush his bones into dust.

David just looks amused. “I remember hearing about you years ago. I don’t think we ever met, though.”

Say what?

“Heard about me?” I ask, my voice going deeper, almost to the point where it sounds like I’m grunting.

David lets go of my hand before I can break his fingers. I’m sure he’s in copious amounts of pain and just wants to crawl into a corner and hold his injured hand and cry. But somehow, he’s still able to smile at me. He’s good. “Oliver and I used to be… friends.” It’s not lost on me how that last word comes out, low and breathy, like he’s fucking the air around him with his mouth. He’s really good. “I didn’t know you were… you know.”

I stare at him, daring him to keep on talking, but he’s obviously waiting for me to respond to his question that’s not really a question. “I don’t remember you,” I tell him. “Must not have been very good friends if I never met you.” These words are out before I can stop them, and even I can hear how much of a jackass I am.

Jesus Christ, it laughs. Why don’t you just whip out your dick and piss on Otter? I’m sure that would get your point across.

Otter sighs and shakes his head, but that small smile never leaves his face, and I know he’s enjoying the hell out of this, and I think maybe I should piss on him, but I don’t think we’re the water-sports type. I’m fucked up as it is; I don’t need to find out I’m into kinky shit on top of everything else. I don’t think my heart could take it. (And, knowing the way my luck goes, I’d find out I was into the really kinky shit, and would be the type that needs to wear a black leather hood over my head with a zipper across my mouth and have jumper cables attached to my nipples with the other ends to a car battery, just to get my rocks off. That’s a real thing, by the way. People do that. Look it up online. I can wait. See? I told you. People are so weird.) David’s not fooled by my words, and his grin grows wider, and it’s like he’s a shark, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many teeth before in a person. I’m about to open my mouth to say something (what, I don’t know) when the Kid speaks up for me.

“We all live together now,” he tells David, his little voice flat. “It’s kind of a big deal.”

David turns from me and looks down at the Kid. “It sounds like it,” he says cheerfully. “And you must be Tyson. It’s certainly a pleasure to meet you!” He reaches out to shake the Kid’s hand, and I see the veins on the back of the Kid’s hand rise as he attempts to give his own version of a death grip. Jesus God, he’s not just like me, he is me. “That’s quite a handshake you’ve got there!” David exclaims, pretending to fall to his knees and grimacing.

The Kid rolls his eyes. “Are you always this patronizing?” he asks. “If so, I don’t know if we’d be a good match.”

“Tyson,” I say, my voice a warning, even though I just want to let him at David. It would be hilarious to watch as the Kid systematically deconstructed his future teacher, but I’ve always tried to impress upon the Kid that he show respect, especially when we’re trying to get him ahead.

The Kid scowls at me for a moment but then drops the act. “Sorry,” he mutters. “I’m not trying to be rude. I just don’t like to be talked down to.”

David nods solemnly, and I think he’s being serious. He gets a point in my book, but he has to make up for the huge deficit he’s already amassed.

He doesn’t stand a chance. “Well, Tyson, I can definitely promise I won’t pander to you. I’ve heard some very wonderful things about you, and I can’t wait to see what you can do.”

“Shall we, then?” Principal Franklin asks, waving his hands toward the empty chairs.

We shall.