The years I spent away and who I lost while I was gone.
That’swhat keeps me up at night.
I gained so damn much when I decided to become a Ranger, but I don’t know if it’ll ever outweigh everything I lost.
When the phone pings repeatedly from incoming texts, everything turns back on, like pressingplayon an old black-and-white film. The screen glitches, the lines dance hazily, the soundtrack clicks on with an annoying sound.
Suddenly, birds are chirping, Mrs. Whittaker is yelling at her yappy Chihuahua, and my world is slotting into place around me. I tune it all out like I always do, going back into the perfectly crafted, quiet box of nothingness I choose to exist in as I glance at my phone.
Hazy: I’m so fucking sorry.
Hazy: I didn’t mean it.
Hazy: Okay. I meant it.
Hazy: But I’m still sorry.
Hazy: You know what, Kade? Get over yourself. Your a dick, and you know it.
Kade: You’re*
Feeling spiteful, I tap out a quick response I know will piss her off. Then I snag the Jack and head upstairs to my apartment.
“I didn’t take you for a Swifty.”
I snap my head down, finding Agnes standing at the foot of the outdoor stairs that lead to my place, and cock a brow in confusion.
She hikes a thumb over her shoulder, pointing to the garage. “The music.”
I shake my head slowly, still not getting it. She plants her hands on her narrow hips, the thin blue material of her outfit that does nothing to hide her…form…swaying with the movement.
With a grimace, I look elsewhere. It’s not her fault. I’m sure if I was a ninety-something-year-old woman living alone in the middle of nowhere, I’d burn my bras too.
“You know,” she calls, her voice shaking with the exertion of yelling up at me. “Hate, hate, hate,” she sings—at least, I think that’s what she’s doing. My mouth gapes open as I watch my ancient landlord sway her busted hips side to side, her muumuu unable to contain all her assets. “Shake, shake, shake—”
I slam a hand up in the air between us and back into my place. My head snaps side to side so quickly, I get whiplash.
“No, Agnes!” I shout. “No. Don’t shake anything. Just—” I break off, running a trembling hand through my hair. “I can seeeverything,” I whisper-hiss, thoroughly destroyed, inside and out.
She freezes, narrowing her eyes at me. “Are you gawkin’ at my tits, boy?”
“What?” I shout, hands going up in frustration. “Oh, my god! This can’t be my fucking life.”
She clicks her tongue. “Don’t be so damn dramatic.”
I see the moment she decides to further traumatize me, and I internally die a little more. Smirking, Mrs. Whittaker reaches her hands up and slowly unbuttons the first hook on her weird dress.
“I haven’t seen any lady friends around here in a long while. If you’re that hard up to see some flesh, all ya had to do was ask.”
“I’m leaving,” I state, taking another step away as revulsion fills me so fast, my cock does something it's never done before—disappears inside my body like a goddamn turtle hiding in its shell. “You’re nuts. I’m moving out.”
She plants her tiny, bony foot on the bottom step and waggles her bushy gray brows as she works the third button open, revealing a patch of aged skin. I shudder.
“Come on, Kade. You know what they say. Once you lay a gray, you never—”
“Jesus Christ, Agnes!” I shout, jolting backward into my apartment. “Leave me alone so I can die in peace, you old bat!”
The door slams just as her raucous laughter kicks up, adding insult to injury.
