“I was just… thinking some thoughts,” I say lamely.
Otter shakes his head. “You always do, Papa Bear. I don’t suppose that’ll ever change. It’s one of the reasons I….” He stops, as if catching himself.
“It’s one of the reasons you what?” I ask curiously.
“Never mind, Bear. It doesn’t matter. Hey, I got you some clothes to sleep in. There, on my bed.” He pushes past me and walks into his bathroom and shuts the door.
I quickly change, not wanting to be caught in any stage of undress before he comes back. He has given me the pair of black sweat pants I’d seen him wearing earlier. I swim in them and feel self-conscious about my chicken legs. I slip the black tank top over my head, and it’s two or three sizes too big. My skin is pale against the fabric. I rub my arms quickly as goose flesh appears. I feel like an imposter, a child dressing up in big-people clothing. I think this is all an act. I don’t know how much longer I can avoid this.
He comes back into the room and glances at me. His expression is unreadable. I want to crack open his head and crawl inside to find out what he thinks about when he looks at me. I need to know if he feels sorry for me, because I couldn’t stand that. I’ve never wanted his pity, and I certainly won’t take it now.
He sits on the bed and stretches. The white tank top he wears rises up,
just an inch, but it still reveals miles of hard brown skin underneath. His pajama shorts sit low on his waist, and I can see where the tan ends and the white begins, and then he stops, and I wonder what he’s doing. I wonder if he’s trying to… do something to me. I wonder if that’s been his plan all along. Ever since I was a little kid. I wonder if it’s his fault I’m so fucking torn like I am right now. I wonder if he knows about this and is getting off on it. Nauseous guilt rolls through me, and it takes everything in my power not to grimace as my stomach clenches.
This is Otter. He would never….
“You okay?” he asks me.
I nod once.
“Well, that’s good, I guess. I’ve made up the guest room next door for you.”
“Oh,” I say, feeling relieved, but unable to stop it from sounding disappointed.
He arches an eyebrow at me.
“But…,” I mumble. “I just… thought….” I wave my arms around the room, trying to show something in the general vicinity.
“You thought what, Bear?” he asks, sounding genuinely confused.
“You know…,” I stammer uncomfortably. “I could… sleep….”
He bursts out laughing. “I’m just fucking with you,” he says, grinning evilly. I want to kick his ass, but I also want to throw up because I was ready to go to the other room.
“That’s not funny, Otter,” I say as I glare at him.
He shrugs. “Maybe not now. You’ll laugh at it someday. Someday you’ll laugh at all of this.” He turns and crawls farther up the bed and slides up with his back against the headboard and looks at me expectantly. I shudder; has his bed always been this small? It wasn’t like this earlier. I almost bolt from the room, but I walk toward him, drawn by some force I can’t yet name. I feel awkward in my big people clothes. I’m too white, I’m too skinny, I’m too everything for him to want… well, to want whatever it is he wants. His eyes never leave me as I lean down and sit on the bed, my back to him. I shudder again, and my teeth start chattering. I can’t help it, and my whole body shakes and my hands flex uncontrollably, and I tense my jaw, willing it to stop. A hand falls on my back, and for just a moment, a split second, the tremor worsens. But then it’s gone.
“Bear?” I hear Otter ask gently.
I turn and throw myself at him, burying my face in his chest. He doesn’t startle this time, and his hands are in my hair, and before I can stop, I’m telling him what happened with Anna. How I had lied about him being at my house that night, how she had looked at me with angry tears in her eyes. I tell him how I’d felt like I’d chased him away so he would never hate me. When I get to this part, I think I’ll hesitate, but I don’t. Otter never interrupts me, and I’m grateful. I tell him how I still could not admit to Anna that I’d kissed him. I tell him she called me a liar. I tell him everything; well, I tell him almost everything. When I get to the part of her asking if he was in love with me or I was in love with him, I stop. The words won’t come out of my mouth, and I think that’s okay for now. Maybe one day I’ll be able to tell him how it all really ended.
After I’m done talking, my throat is dry, and I feel hollow and soft, like a rotting pumpkin months after Halloween. Throughout my confession, Otter’s hands remained in my hair, tugging gently. At one point his thumbs rub against my eyebrows, and I embarrass myself by making a happy humming sound at the back of my throat. I lay curled against his chest, once again wanting to know what he’s thinking.
Finally, he says, “So you just weren’t satisfied with making sure the Kid had a proper future, but you thought you’d make sure I’d have one too?”
I shrug meekly. “It sounds kind of stupid when you say it like that.”
“Bear,” he says gruffly from somewhere above me, “it sounds stupid no matter how you say it.”
I sit up, annoyed. “You didn’t have to leave,” I point out.
He stares hard at me, his big arms across his chest. “So you’ve said a few times now,” he says carefully. “But I already told you why I did.”
“It doesn’t look like your reasons mattered, though,” I say thoughtfully.
“Why do you say that?”