“And be boring like you?” He smiled at me with his longer canines. “Why do you want to be boring like a human?”
“Because I don’t like feeling like this. I don’t like all the attention I’m getting. Maybe you do, but I don’t.”
He didn’t respond. We both stared at the fire, listening to the popping embers as leaves rustled in the breeze.
“I’ve been wanting to ask you something, but you get all pissy when I bring it up,” Adam said before tossing another small log on the flames.
“Ask about what?”
“Why are you such a neat freak?”
“Because unlike you and Roscoe, I don’t want to live like a pig.”
“That’s not what I mean. I’ve seen you wash a dish like five times, put it away, and wash it again. Sometimes you’ll sweep the floor, walk over it, and then grab the broom again and sweepthe same place. You do it all the time when you think no one’s watching.”
Adam was probably the last person I wanted to talk to about this, but there wasn’t anyone else. “I don’t like feeling dirty.”
“Dude, you have no more natural oils in your skin because you take like four showers a day. You’re not dirty.”
“It’s different. When I came out as gay, I was told I was dirty. Now I’m half monster, and I’m going to end up smelling like Roscoe. So, I just keep cleaning so I don’t feel so dirty.”
“Cody…” Adam put his hand on my arm.
“It’s like a stain on my soul that I can’t clean. I hate that I need to have sex.”
“Sex is pretty nasty.” He shoved me. “That’s what makes it so fun. That’s what makes it feel good.” He paused and his expression turned more serious. “Do you ever feel good?”
“Sometimes, but it’s hard. Even when Roscoe and I are together, I always feel disappointed in myself after it’s over. Sorry. It’s been a night.”
“Nah. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you wanted to hang out with me. I did kinda ignore you and steal the spotlight.”
“And you ran up the tab.”
In a cocky show of defiance, Adam placed his hands behind his head and leaned back. “You can take it out of that huge chunk of money you withhold from me every month.”
“Why were you crying?”
“I wasn’t—”
“Cut the shit, Adam. I just spilled my guts to you.”
The cocky expression faded. “I woke up, and no one was in the house.”
“You could’ve called me.”
“I did. It kept going to voicemail.”
I pulled out my phone, which I had forgotten would automatically set to ‘do not disturb’ after two. “Oops.”
“I just figured you all went back out without me. Everyone likes you more.”
“Well, even if that was true—which it’s not—you don’t exactly make being around you a pleasant experience most of the time.”
He didn’t respond.
“I don’t mean that to be rude. You’re just such a grouch.”
“So are you! You’re always nagging like you’re this bitter old lady who runs the house.”
