Gifted | Sleepy Bois Inc

Chapter Five

I woke up to see a very disgruntled Philza peering down at me.

"What the heck were you thinking?" he demanded the second he saw my eyes open. "Number one rule of life: Don't accept poison from strangers! You know this!"

"I don't think he knows this," Wilbur remarked from behind Philza, where he was leaning casually against the wall. He was still wearing his round glasses, which he usually only kept on for popstar stuff, as well as a thin t-shirt that did not look like it was suited for the weather. Most likely, he had rushed over the second he heard that I had been poisoned. "Otherwise we wouldn't be in this situation."

Phil scowled down at me. "Techno, how many times have we talked about this? I've told you this before, I'm sure of it. Don't go around drinking strawberry flavored poison from strangers!"

"It wasn't even strawberry flavored," I protested, sitting up from where I laid on the hospital bed. "What a scam."

"I will throttle you."

"You can't. You're my guardian. You guard me."

"No, he doesn't," Wilbur piped up.

Phil glared over his shoulder at Wilbur. "I will throttle you too, Will."

My brother raised his hands in protest and backed out of the room like the smart kid he was. Unfortunately, I was stuck in bed, a throbbing headache rendering me useless. He was lucky.

"You could've handled the situation in so many different ways," Phil sighed, calming down a bit. "Any other strategy would've been good. Heck, even letting the police take control of the situation would've been better!"

I sat up, rubbing my forehead. The pain was still persisting, and Phil's anger wasn't making it any better. "Where's the guy now?" I asked in an attempt to change the conversation.

Phil hesitated, then shook his head. "He came here by himself, but when we were about to take him away, he drank one of his cups."

My throat constricted. "Did he...?"

"No. He just wanted the taste of lemonade before he got locked up."

I sighed in relief. Phil gave me an odd look. "You seem rather attached to this bounty."

"Kind of," I admitted. "He's just... so different. The world could use more people like him in it."

"So... more insane, poison-addicted sadists?"

I harrumphed. "When you put it that way, it doesn't sound nearly as nice. But I'm serious. He doesn't care what others think about him, and he could've easily gotten out of jail time. Instead he just let it happen, claiming that it was for fun. Even if it probably was, that's respectable."

Phil studied me carefully. I scowled at him. "What?"

"Nothing," my adoptive father said, looking away. "It just sounds like you're describing yourself."

I blinked. Myself? I wasn't like Bandanna Guy. I was still socially awkward and barely functional in society. The only reason why I could stand up to people like Haden was because I found their taunting too ridiculous not to laugh at. That was stupidity, not braveness.

"Come on, there are many similarities," Phil said, seeing the expression on my face. "You can't deny that."

"Are you calling me an insane, poison-addicted sadist?"

Phil sighed. "No. I... just forget I said anything."

He looked like he very much wanted to keep talking, but the conversation had clearly been shut down. I couldn't see how there were any possible similarities between me and Bandanna Guy, though Phil looked like he could argue the case for ages.