In the time between Shiloh’s threats of self-immolation and when she finally came barreling familiarly up the stairs and through his bedroom door, Anthony got a couple things done. For one, he sent her a succinct reply of ‘chhyyyeah’—not really crisis counselor material—and then he made nachos. Or well, he nuked a ton of quote-unquote Mexican Style shredded cheese on a plate of tortilla chips and jalapenos and called it a day. So maybe not chef material either, but he wasn’t losing any sleep over it. He had just dropped the soggy paper plate onto his crowded desk when Shiloh threw herself onto his unmade bed. He gave her a second to whine and sigh and glare up at the years old glow in the dark stars stuck in the shape of a pair of boobs on his ceiling, then sat in his squeaky office chair. “Yikes,” he said amiably, greetings customarily foregone. The chair eeeeek’d ominously as he spun to face her. His stepdad had handed it down to him when he got one of those state-of-the-art ergonomic ones that like, adjusted to temperature changes or something and offered the lumbar support he wouldn’t shut up about. It cost about a thousand bucks, so Anthony figured it must’ve jacked him off too.
He leaned back (the chair creaked), folded his hands over his stomach, and hummed thoughtfully. It was performative, which was probably obvious, because Anthony didn’t want to give much thought to the picture she painted at all. Emmett Gardener: Human Sadsack wasn’t someone Anthony wanted to give up much brain space for. His lumbering rain cloud of grief in school classrooms was a bummer enough; he wasn’t desperate to pick apart the guy’s brain or Shiloh’s stumbling, misguided attempts at supposed comfort. He heard Magnus’ distant voice from the kitchen call out ‘keep that door open, Tones!’ so he made a fart sound with his mouth and kicked it closed entirely. “You want an obvious piece of advice for the future?” He started and pulled the plate onto his lap. He picked up a chip and admired the cheese pull; added an extra jalapeno on the bite; and popped it into his mouth. There wasn’t much he could do when Shiloh wound herself into a tangle but wait it out. Mouth full, he continued: “Don’t bang on the glass at the gorilla enclosure. You’re either just gonna get a buncha monosyllabic grunts or a face full of shit.” He swallowed and grabbed another chip, then tried to recall if his ashtray was still on the bed she just flopped onto. “Hey, roll over real quick. I gotta check something.”
yikes. yikes, indeed. it truly was the only way to describe the situation shiloh had managed to insert herself into. so she hummed in agreement. well– half hummed, half groaned for she knew it was true. she closed her eyes, arms extended out to her sides as her legs hung off the edge of the bed. maybe if she tried hard enough she could just sink into tony’s quilt and become a part of the mattress below it and not have exist outside of his messy room ever again. definitely not at school tomorrow when she would surely see stupid emmett gardener, as much as she’d like to believe he’d already forgotten about it she didn’t think she’d be so lucky. she’d used all her luck up, she thought.
she was pulled from her thoughts sound of tony’s step father yelling across the house and subsequent fart sound from her friend. it earned a small smile, but one that she pushed back down into dramatic frown when she turned her head and opened her eyes to hear the advice he had for her. “ yes, please. clearly i need it, ” she said, wishing he’d been with her at the time so he could have given her the so-called obvious piece of advice before she’d walked into the lion’s den and danced around like a tasty piece of meat. she sighed again at his advice. it was indeed, obvious. her eyes going back to the glow in the dark stars on the ceiling, oh what she would give to be the age she’d been when they went up again. do the last handful of her teenage years over again. “ i feel like i got both, ” she said “ nonsensical grunts and a face full of shit. double whammy. ” she extended her fingers in a quick pow motion of her face. “ the worst part was that he was listening to some shitty music and i said it was good, i sacrificed my artistic integrity for fucking gorilla boy’s ego– what is wrong with me? ” she groaned again, she was the kind of bitch that liked the regrettes and beach bunny and tessa violet not – god she didn’t even remember the name of whatever sad boy shit he’d been listening to. “ don’t answer that. ” she piped up, lifting her head a little for a moment before she let it hit quilt again. if anyone could diagnose exactly what was wrong with her, and why she did the things she did, tony would be the best bet. even if his answer would come out in the form of some horrible impersonation.
when asked to roll over she did, of course giving another sigh as she did. now on her stomach she pulled phone from her pocket, clicking it to see if she’d recieved any notifications. part of her was relieved to see empty screen, the other part of her didn’t like it at all. she locked it again, instead turning her attention to the plate of make-shift nachos not even considering what he would need to check that would require to roll over. in fact she’d almost forgotten that he’d asked her to at all, too caught up in her own bullshit. “ can i have some? ” she asked, reaching a hand out for the plate of nuked terror.
