Page 136 of Bobby Green

That day, Bobby left soon after the last of the plates were cleared. He helped his mom put stuff in the truck and said a quiet goodbye to Dex and John. He had a scene next week and some playdates planned at the flophouse, so he knew he’d be seeing everybody again.

Reg managed to stay as far away from him as possible, the entire time. But Bobby wouldn’t forget the look they’d shared.

That look—that was everything.

It said that love was there for the claiming. Bobby just had to choose his moment, his time, his place.

He began to make plans.

A WEEKlater, after his scene—some kid named Chris who had almost passed out on Bobby’s cock, he’d been so excited—Bobby stepped into Dex’s office. At first he’d been worried that Reg would be there, but Kelsey was back on the receptionist desk part-time until they could find someone full-time and permanent, and she told him Reg would be out talking to the manager at a new club, so he was safe.

“Hey, Dex?” He smiled tentatively, and Dex turned away from his editing computer and swiveled his chair around.

“Take a seat,” he said, then looked over his shoulder. “Want a cookie?”

Bobby blinked. “Is this part of the service now?”

Dex shook his head and fished a tin from his desk. “No. Kane has been on sort of a kick, now that it’s not hotter than balls. He keeps trying out new recipes, and I swear to Christ I’m gonna get fat. Help a brother out here and eat some goddamned carbs for me, willya?”

Bobby laughed and snagged three. “You’re the best boss ever,” he said after wolfing down a little disk of heaven. “And it would totally be worth getting fat if you could eat these every day.”

Dex eyed him dispassionately. “You only say that because you just turned nineteen and you still have the metabolism of a fucking Trojan. I swear that kid’s entire purpose in life is to watch me grow love handles.”

Bobby smirked. “Well, he wants something to hold on to,” he said mildly, and Dex grabbed two more cookies and set them on the desk in front of him.

“Workthoseoff, smart guy. What can I do for you?”

Bobby finished his second cookie and took a deep breath for courage. “I think this thing with Reg has gone on long enough.”

Dex sighed and stole one of his cookies. “Word. He’s… he’s starting to say you’d be better off without him. I think… I think he’s depressed. No sister. No boyfriend. He’s hit that groove, you know?”

Bobby swallowed, the cookie turning to sawdust in his mouth. “The one where you think you suck and everybody would be better without you and how can anybody love a fuckup like you are?”

The cookie tin came out again, and Dex dealt them another round.

“You been there too?” he asked quietly.

“I got the condensed version in jail,” Bobby told him, eyes level. “And then you know what?”

“What?”

“I fought off the third guy who wanted to be my daddy and decided I really was the belle of the goddamned ball.”

Dex guffawed and clapped a hand over his mouth. “That’s fucking awful,” he said when he could talk.

Bobby shrugged. It was partially true. “It was a shitty situation, Dex. He never should have gone through it. I know I wasn’t up to it, but I did my best. How’s his sister?”

“Climbing the ladder again,” Dex said, referring to the institutions she would get transferred to, one after another, until she got to one with a marginal amount of freedom.

“When’s she going to be back where she was?”

Dex let out a breath. “According to Reg, she’s got another two months. She had to do a long stint in the one for violent patients—no visitors, no outside stuff—because, you know—”

“She tried to kill us.”

“Yeah. I guess she’s actually showing remorse for that now, but then, every time they switch her drugs, she forgets what she did.”

Bobby tilted his head back and groaned. “Mental health shit is so fucked-up,” he muttered. “Seriously. They gotta give those places more money. They’ve got to have better places. I just… he never would have tried so long if she’d had better places to go.”