Chapter 9:
“Gay best friend?!” I exploded, closing my bedroom door. Bruno smirked, seemingly back to his cocky self. He flopped down on my bed, wriggling slightly in an attempt to get comfy.
“What’s your problem, Blue?” he asked, stretching out. “Your mum and dad believed me! They’re letting me stay!”
It had come to light over the past few hours, that Bruno’s skill for pretending to be someone else, extended well past pretending to be a dog. Over dinner, he had come out with a sob story to rival sob stories, and had ended up being comforted by my mother.
“It just slipped out,” he had sobbed, burying his face in his hands. “I didn’t mean to tell her the truth; I was just so tired of keeping it a secret!”
Cue Marshall and dad shooting each other awkward glances and excusing themselves from the room.
And then there was me; trying hard not to twitch as Bruno and my mother bonded over the heartless actions of Bruno’s pretend family. It was days like this that I just wanted to curl up and never open my eyes!
“You’re not gay!” I shouted angrily.
He wriggled, making himself comfy.
“I know this,” he informed me. “And you know this; your parents, however, don’t, which means that I can now stay here. I don’t really see why you’re getting your knickers in a twist.”
I glowered at him, making a mental note to remember that he was never to make a reference about my knickers again; I’d once found a whole stash of my washing in his basket. At the time, it had been pretty innocent stuff. Now, it was just a bit creepy…
“Look,” Bruno yawned, rubbing at his eyes, “I just need to work out what was wrong with me earlier, and I’ll turn back to the dog that you love.” He sounded almost bitter about it; did he not want to be a dog again? Why wouldn’t he? Being a dog was so much easier than being a human; he didn’t have to deal with any sort of responsibility, for starters. And he wouldn’t have had to deal with idiotic ex-boyfriends who were the absolute scum of the earth.
Not that I was pointing the finger of blame at anyone in particular, like.
Grudgingly, I sat down on the end of my bed, thinking everything through. To be honest, I was just glad that he was still alive; a dead dog-boy would have been a lot harder to explain compared to a living one. Bruno smiled at me, nudging me with his foot.
“What?” I mumbled, looking at him.
“You were worried,” he murmured sleepily, his eyes drifting shut. “Worried about little ol’ me.” Great. Just what I needed; my absolute panic to fuel his already overly inflated ego. Funnily enough, that hadn’t been my intentions when I was going frantic about his wellbeing.
“Don’t let it go to your head,” I told him curtly. “You caught me on a bad day.” Bruno just smirked and pulled the duvet over himself. His breathing descended into a soft lull that was completely different to how it had been a couple of hours ago as he drifted off into a deep sleep. I watched him, trying not to feel like the creeper that I probably looked like. This was so stupid; getting worried about a boy that could turn into a dog…or…a dog that could turn into a boy. I would have to ask him about the nitty gritty of that.
Surely, it couldn’t be anything bad. If it had been something bad he wouldn’t have come round from it, right? And…if it had been something bad, he would have been worried as well! So, based on Bruno’s overwhelming lack of…caring about what happened to him, I could rest easy in my bed, right?
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He Was A Dog When I Left, I Swear!
Humor"I can't really remember much before I was four," I admitted, shrugging my shoulders. "Four seems to be where I stop." He nodded, digging his teeth into his lower lip as he stepped in front of the window, as if to protect us both from someone lookin...
