* * *
“It was her,” the custodian told Mr. Sanderson and the police officer sitting in Ms. Roundtree’s office. “She’s the one who hit him with her car. She’s the one who left the letter in his locker.”
“How do you know about the letter?” Ms. Roundtree posed.
“I was in here taking the garbage out when Mitchell was telling you about it. He said it had been clipped out magazines. Well, look what that spoiled little witch Erin dropped in my trash cart today,” Bethany begged as she lifted a Swimmer’s Monthly out of the trash. “And now look at the other magazines that were sitting in her waiting room.” Bethany then held up the old copies of Reader’s Digest and Psychology Today. She tossed them on the desk, one magazine to each party seated before her. “She had me take these out of her office yesterday to put in the waiting room. They’re all missing clipped-out letters.
“I’d even be willing to bet that that isn’t your brother’s best man you cropped out of that photo. Huh?” Bethany accused as she pointed down to the picture Charlie had just made an inquiry about yesterday. All eyes went down to the photo of Ms. Roundtree and her brother on the table that had been cropped so that the back of frame sat exposed on the left side. “It’s probably his husband you cut out of it.” Ms. Roundtree’s jaw dropped. “What’re you? Some kind of homophobe?”
“Shut up, dyke!” Ms. Roundtree bellowed.
The room went silent for a moment. Bethany’s jaw dropped she pushed her cart back out the door. She wasn’t quite sure what to say, but knew that this was no time to argue on her own behalf. Instead, she looked at the officer seated across the tiny office and suggested, “You might wanna compare those magazines to that letter if you can find it.”
Charlie & Mitchell
“Bitch crazy,” Charlie laughed as Mitchell wrapped up the story of Ms. Roundtree’s downward spiral. “I cannot believe I’ve been talking to this woman for three years and she’s been trying to kill me the entire time.”
“You always said you didn’t like to tell her too much. Maybe you had a hard time trusting her.”
It had only been a day since Charlie had opened his eyes for the first time, and nearly two weeks since he’d been struck by Ms. Roundtree’s car. Mitchell was unmoving. He didn’t want to leave Charlie alone to fend for himself in the event that some other psychopath came looking for him with a death warrant in his or her hand. He reached forward and held Charlie’s hand, though he was careful not to squeeze too tight. He had only just now learned that Charlie had three broken bones in his hand that would later require surgery.
“You know, I did something while you were sleeping. We did something, that is. Sort of,” Mitchell stammered. “It’s hard to explain.
“How is hard to explain?” Charlie asked, his cheeks flushing and the corners of his mouth turning upward.
“It just is,” Mitchell went on, his own cheeks now flaring red.
“Okay,” Charlie shrugged. “Then don’t tell me.”
“Fine,” Mitchell replied.
“Show me.”
With that, both boys laughed a bit awkwardly. Mitchell scooted off his seat and took a place on the edge of the bed next to Charlie.
“You ready?” he asked, Charlie now looking confused by his motions.
“Show me,” Charlie repeated.
Then, as if he’d never done it before, Mitchell made a slow, quivering movement toward Charlie, and kissed him once more right on the lips.
If he’d thought he’d felt magic before, he had no idea what sort of spell he was under in that moment.
Mitchell pulled away and looked down at his friend, both erupting into a fit of laughter like two drunken hyenas.
“I love you,” Mitchell told him, his face as red as perfectly ripe apple.
“Don’t tell me that,” Charlie told him, giggling to himself. “Show me.”
And Mitchell did just that—one kiss at a time.
About the author:
Anthony Ramirez is a television writer and novelist. His screenwriting credits include Win(e)ding Down with Anthony and the forthcoming sitcom The Anthony Project, in which he will also play the lead role. He has written and released two novels, entitled The Write Thing, and Witches of the Deep South. He is currently finishing his degree in Creative Writing for Entertainment at Full Sail University. He is also the current fiction editor for ELJ Publications. When he is not writing or acting, Anthony can most likely be found finishing a glass of wine while scouting out potential husbands on Tinder to the music of Adele. He lives and writes from his home in Houston. You can find him online at anthonywritestoo.wordpress.com.
Discover other titles by Anthony Ramirez
The Write Thing
Witches of the Deep South
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