Dad had some dinner heated up for me, and the tea ready to go. We had a two-parter to watch—“Improbable Cause” and “The Die is Cast”—and it was already late.
But I couldn’t sit still. I kept replaying the night in my head.
“Darius?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you mad at me about something?”
“What? No. Why?”
“You’re so quiet. And your leg is jiggling.”
I stilled my knee and paused the episode. “Sorry. Just, a lot happened at work. Mr. Edwards kind of offered me a job.”
“That’s terrific!” Dad pulled me in to kiss my forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“I don’t know. It still feels weird. And, well. This other thing happened too.”
“What’s that?”
I almost jiggled my leg again, but stopped myself. “Landon and I are officially boyfriends now.”
Dad leaned back to look me in the eyes.
“How does that make you feel?”
“Happy,” I said. “Really happy.”
“That’s wonderful. You deserve to be happy.”
“Thanks, Dad.”
I hit play, and we finished the episodes, and I kept my hands folded across my lap, because I kept thinking about Landon.
I really needed to go number three.
I usually did it before bed, and sometimes in the mornings, too, after my run. Well, most mornings, if I’m being honest.
Ever since Dr. Howell had changed my prescription, it was like my sex drive had gone from impulse to warp.
I wondered if other guys felt this way.
I wondered if Landon did.
I wondered what it was that made me imagine Landon touching me when I masturbated, but cringe when he reached below my waist in real life.
That’s normal.
Right?
THE TAXONOMY OF BREAKFAST FOODS
Saturday morning, instead of sleeping in, I woke up to the smell of something amazing: cinnamon rolls.
In the taxonomy of breakfast foods, cinnamon rolls are the only food more exalted than bacon.
I grabbed my hoodie off the floor, pulled on yesterday’s joggers, and followed my watering mouth to the kitchen. Cinnamon rolls could only mean one thing: Grandma and Oma were here.
