Foxes

Foxes by Suki Fleet

Book: Foxes by Suki Fleet Read Free Book Online
Authors: Suki Fleet
Tags: gay romance
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anywhere.
    “Hey, kiddo.”
    I can smell the alcohol on him from across the pool. Strong alcohol. Spirits. The sort of stuff that strips the skin from your mouth and throat as you swallow.
    He must have been out along the high road. He’s a local celebrity out there. Him, and his leg, and his stories.
    “Hey,” I say.
    I hold my breath as he makes his way around the edge of the pool. At times like these, I wish the pool were full of water.
    “Not moping, I hope, eh?” He collapses down next to me.
    I shake my head.
    Nearby, in the park, kids are running through the darkness. Laughter and yelling, both terrified and exhilarated, echo in the empty spaces.
    Sometimes I run through the dark. Sometimes it just feels like that’s what I’m doing. It’s all a game to the kids out there. I hope it never becomes anything else.
    “None of my business, but where’ve you been going at night lately?” Milo asks.
    I smile a little to myself. We keep out of each other’s business mostly. Occasionally Milo will know someone who needs a phone fixed, but not very often.
    I think he might be worrying about me.
    I think I might like it. Not that he’s worried, just that he cares. It makes me feel like there is still something holding me here, like a warm hand clasping mine, preventing me from flying off into the unknowable unknown.
    “Embankment, mostly.”
    “New friend, eh?” Milo says, nudging me with his elbow. He tries to wink but ends up squinting.
    With a dramatic flourish, he produces a little bottle out of his jacket, takes a swig, and offers it to me.
    I shake my head. “Is it mouthwash?” It smells like mouthwash. I wouldn’t put it past Milo to drink mouthwash.
    Milo snorts. “Put hair on your chest, this will.”
    I roll my eyes. “I already have hairs on my chest.”
    “So why are you all mopey? You got hairs on your chest, you got the world in your pocket.”
    I don’t know what’s got Milo so happy.
    “I’m not mopey.”
    But I am. I don’t want to admit why, but I am.
    The world is certainly not in my pocket.

Dollman
     
     
    DOLLMAN IS early. It’s midnight, and I’m leaning over the embankment wall, staring at the London Eye and all the lights reflected on the river, when I glimpse him striding purposefully through the darkness.
    Tonight the streets don’t glitter too brightly. It’s windy and cold and hardly anyone is around, but at least it’s not raining.
    I follow Dollman up past the bus shelter where I first saw Micky. Tonight the bus shelter is empty. It’s stupid, but I start to feel a little sick if I think about Micky being out here. I don’t feel so good anyway. I’m tired and I’ve been thinking too much about Dashiel. I didn’t want to get out of my nest to hunt sharks tonight. I wanted to stay wrapped up in my memories. But while I lay there all safe, I kept thinking about the sharks swimming these streets. I kept thinking about Dytryk and others like him who don’t have the choice to curl up and try to shut out the darkness.
    “Loki!”
    My heart sinks and I screw my face up, but I keep walking. Laughter echoes from behind me, down near the railway arches, along with a few shaky, wolflike howls.
    “LokiLokiLokiLoki!”
    Louder this time.
    And even though I’ve been careful and Dollman must be a hundred meters in front of me, he pauses in his steps.
    Shit.
    I stop and press myself into the shadows of some bargain-booze store, wishing Dieter would keep his bloody mouth shut.
    Behind me I hear the clatter of footsteps. I don’t turn. I know it’s Dieter in his plasticky high heels. I can see his gangly reflection in a window across the street. Another boy is with him. It’s not Micky. Dieter is never on his own, though—he always has someone. Even if it’s not the someone he wants.
    “Are you lost, Loki? A little lost puppy. Are you following someone home?” Dieter asks in a singsong voice, stepping closer than I’d like him to. He sounds high or drunk. The boy with

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