Page 22 of Good Boys Don’t Bite

Their faces were inches apart now. Ronan could smell toothpaste beneath the garlic and rosemary. He could see the faint freckles across Elliot's nose that almost disappeared during winter. He could see the tiny scar near his eyebrow from falling off a bicycle when he was eleven, a story Ronan had heard from Elliot's mother so many times he could recite it himself. Elliot looked sweet. That was the problem. He could say the most unhinged shit imaginable while looking like somebody's first love. Ronan's phone vibrated. Neither moved. It vibrated again. Elliot smiled.

“Mom.”

“Probably.”

“She's going to come over.”

“Definitely.”

“She has a key.”

Ronan released him. Elliot looked annoyed. Ronan laughed.

“You want your mother walking in?”

“I'd rather die.”

“Then put your shoes on.”

Ronan checked his phone.

MOM: Dinner is ready.

Then, thirty seconds later:

MOM: I can literally see the lights on.

Ronan looked toward the enormous windows.

“Fuck.”

Elliot laughed. There it was. The real laugh. The one Ronan liked.

“Come on.”

They grabbed their jackets. Elliot switched off the oven and followed Ronan toward the door. Ronan opened it. Cold evening air rushed inside. They crossed the yard together. Their parents' house glowed beyond the trees, warm yellow light spilling from tall windows onto the grass. The smell of woodsmoke drifted from somewhere nearby. Fallen leaves crunched beneath their shoes. Halfway across the yard, Elliot spoke.

“Ronan.”

“Yeah?”

“If Dylan touches you again, I'm breaking his fingers.”

Ronan glanced sideways. Elliot was smiling. Sweetly. The exact smile he used on professors, neighbors, and strangers carrying too many coffees. Ronan laughed.

“Good boy.”

Elliot stopped walking. Ronan took another step before turning. Elliot stood beneath the branches of an old maple, hands tucked into his jacket pockets. His expression had changed. Ronan knew that look too.

“Don't call me that.”

“Why?”

“You know why.”

Ronan walked backward toward the house.

“Good boys don't threaten people's fingers.”