Psychosexual [BoyxBoyxBoy]

Chapter 9

      A few hours after I had gone home, Cedric sent the first text message. He kept it casual at first, only asking questions about my experience at the warehouse. I kept the answers vague enough to not be considered snitching. I truly wanted to help him with his investigation, but when it seemed that he got what he needed, he switched up the conversation and turned it more personal, asking me where I moved from and if I liked it here so far.

The texting didn't stop until we went to sleep. When I woke up the next morning, I had a new message waiting for me. And with no job or responsibilities, I had nothing to do. That led to me spending most of the morning in bed with my phone in my face, reading and replying until my eyes felt like they were going to fall out of their sockets.

We had spent the night before getting to know each other. The questions weren't all that special—an elementary kid would laugh at our embarrassing attempts. We mostly asked stupid things about jobs and schools, but it felt like we were both too nervous to push it further. No serious topics were ever discussed, until today.

He explained that the people who owned the warehouse were in the same gang that attacked the bar. Was I surprised it was the work of gangs? Nope. Didn't even bat an eye. What I was surprised about were all of the coincidences. Anything was possible, sure, but I never thought in a million years I'd run into Cedric again, let alone work for the people who attacked that bar. I was lucky to have left that job before getting involved in something troubling. Thanks to Elijah, I'd never have to worry about a thing.

When it was breakfast time, our conversation evolved to sending pictures. It started with me snapping and sending him a picture of another delicious Indian meal that I'd never be able to pronounce. Sonam threw a fit when I took out a hot pocket to shove in the microwave. She refused to accept it was my breakfast, so she made it her priority to feed me.

Cedric sent back a picture of an empty fridge, saying he forgot to buy groceries. In the picture, there was a cat laying on the counter next to the fridge, so I asked about it.

It's not my cat, he said. Sometimes I open my window and he comes in. I just let him.

I died laughing. For some reason that was hilarious to me. I could imagine him frowning as the cat invited itself into his home like it owned the place. It was cute that he let the cat just be there and didn't kick him out like every normal person would.

Since I didn't have any cats, I sent back a picture I took of a bird outside on the balcony. No clue what bird it was, but it was pretty and tiny.

A few seconds later he sent another picture of the cat, but this time it was sitting on an open window, staring out dramatically.

That's a good boy. That's a handsome boy. Give him a rub, I texted back.

Then he did something I didn't think he would.