Page 77 of The Guy Next Door

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Page 77 of The Guy Next Door

The rest of the dinner goes fine, and I have fewer slips, mainly because I’m wise enough to keep my damned mouth shut.

Afterward, I head back to my place and wait for Leif, who tells his parents he’s gonna come over and hang out. We fuck around some before lying in bed. I curl up close to him, his ass gravitating to my pelvis as our bodies lock together like a puzzle.

“Your parents are nice.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll keep them.”

I laugh. “You think they liked me? Or did I come off too weird?”

As he rolls toward me, I pull away to let him face me. “You worried they might not?”

“I don’t know. I said some weird shit…”

“You always say weird shit. That’s what I like about you.”

“You know that makesyoureally weird too, right?”

“I’m getting more comfortable with my weirdness,” he says, leaning close and offering a kiss. Gentle, tender. When he pulls away, he adds, “I think they like you.”

“I don’t think they’d like me if they knew all the bad things I had in mind for you tonight.”

“Talk is cheap.”

So I show him just how serious I am.

*

I’m sitting ona bench in a long, familiar hallway.

Muffled voices come from nearby—an office along the same wall as the bench.

I look down the hall again, trying to figure out where I am, when suddenly Shelly is standing beside me. She’s the social worker who’s been working with Mike and me.

She wears an apprehensive expression and makes eye contact as she says, “Zane, I’m sorry, but we won’t be able to find a family that can take both you and Mike.”

My heart sinks. I knew this would happen; another social worker had sworn to me we’d already had enough happen to us and that this will work out.

“But we were told we’d be kept together,” is all I can think to say.

She bites her lip. “We’ve done everything we can. We really were hoping, but it’s hard to find people to adopt kids your age already. Childcare facilities are packed, so we’re lucky if we’ll be able to place both of you anyway.”

“You won’t separate us! No one will separate us!” I shout, pushing to my feet and heading to the office. Somehow I knowthat’s where Mike is. I push it open, but now I’m outside and Shelly is standing in front of me.

Mike’s in tears as a man—one of the staff here at the facility—pulls him by his arm. Mike reaches back to me, his eyes wide with terror. “Zane! Zane!”

I start toward him when I feel an arm hook around my waist and pull me back.

“No! Let me go!” I turn to find another staff member. I hit and slap and struggle as he restrains me. “Mike! Mike!”

“I’m so sorry,” Shelly says.

In my fit, I realize this is a nightmare.

Because it’s already happened.

But even knowing my efforts are in vain, I must give this my all. So that I can, at least in this fantasy, see my brother one more time, talk to him. A desperate part of me will do whatever I need to spend another moment with even a dream version.

“Let me go!” I scream, but I can’t break free, and in the background, I hear Mike crying out, “Zane! Zane!”




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