Page 91 of Roleplay at Randy's
I know we’re supposed to be talking about Matty’s mystery guy, but I think you both need to hear this: I have never, not in a day that I’ve known you, seen you look that unashamedly happy, Matty. That alone tells me that whatever you want from that man? You should go for it. The last thing you need is more regret.
Damn them for bringing me to tearsagain.I don’t remember Evan being that insightful when he was Riley’s drinking buddy, but his words unravel a sense of rightness that I’d been missing.
Iamhappy. I’m so fucking happy. So happy that I’m standing here doing the one thing I told myself I’d never have the guts to do—rekindle my friendship with Riley.
All because of Elias’ confidence in me. The support he shows me every day. The joy from his arms locked around me every morning. How he kisses me openly no matter who’s around.
Me
Thank you both. Fuck. I missed you, Riley. It’s nice talking to you, Evan.
Riley
Gross. Evan. I’ve missed you too, squirt. The chat is always open.
Hawks
Y’all are too sappy for me. But feel free to get my number from Riley if you need to chat with someone who has more than two brain cells.
Hawks has left the chat.
Pfft. Hockey players are such a surly breed.
Riley and I trade quick farewells, and I let the screen go dark with a calming lightness in my chest.
Maybe I can do this. Step out of this suffocating comfort zone I’ve shoehorned myself into.
We don’t need forever to enjoy right now.
And right now, I want to belong to Elias Lee.
There’s a loud crash from the living room, and I bolt out of the kitchen to investigate. Heart pounding, I spot Cal on the floor surrounded by a pile of books. The bookshelf in the corner is skewed, leaning a little too far to the right, with all of its contents scattered on the ground.
Cal doesn’t look like he’s hurt, but he’s sitting there a little dazed, and when I crouch in front of him, moving some of the books out of the way, he reaches out and tugs on my hair.
“Ouch. Hey, bud, I’m just checking on you. Are you hurt?”
He doesn’t answer, but he does let go of my hair and push to his feet, stomping them as he looks around for whatever he was climbing the bookshelf for.
That’s when I notice something on the ground behind him. Lots of somethings. Broken plastic.
My first thought is to check him over again, and other than a few scratches and scrapes on his thighs, it doesn’t look like anything got him too bad.
My next thought is cleaning it up before he cuts his feet, but that’s when what I’m seeing fully registers.
The broken plastic. The mold of my hearing aid lying next to the shattered remains of the shell.
Panic pounds in my veins like a bass drum. First, because my hearing aids aren’t cheap to replace, and as often as I go without at the house, not having the option is terrifying. Second, because as I sift through the pile and collect the pieces in my hand, there’s one thing missing.
The battery.
They’re small and circular, not a button battery specifically, but similar in size and likely just as dangerous to swallow.
I search all over the floor before the full force of the worry hits me. Cal is in a ‘put everything in his mouth’ phase, and I find him in his room stacking books into a tower.
Looking at him, there’s no way to tell if he swallowed it. Checking his mouth gets my fingers bitten several times, but I don’t stop until I’m assured it’s nowhere in there.
A few more minutes of searching the living room later comes up with nothing, and the fear in my gut grows stronger, coils tighter.
