Read Online Green Fairy (Dangerous Spirits) by Kyell Gold - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kyell Gold
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him to fuck you good.”
The twisting in his gut was too much. He snapped back at her. “What, like he does you?”
“Shut up, fag.”
“You still sleep in the same bed, right?”
“Shut up !”
“Does your mom—”
He didn’t know what he was going to say about their mom, and he never got the chance to find out, because Tanny smacked him hard across the muzzle, blunt claws dragging across the thin fur. “Shut up!” she shrieked.
She stomped away, and even though Sol had gotten her to leave him alone, he felt no sense of pride or victory. He felt dirty, ashamed, because he’d sunk to her level, he’d made himself no better than she was. He slunk into his math class with his tail curled around one leg and slouched at his desk, wishing he could take it back, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Brooding over it, he took no notes for the first fifteen minutes of the class and spent the rest of it trying to catch up.
Tanny didn’t bother him for the rest of the day, but once he’d shoved his books into his locker and walked to the gym’s locker room, he had to deal with her brother. “What’d you say to my sister?” Taric demanded the moment Sol entered.
Here, Sol could no longer simply ignore the coyote. “She was giving me—calling me names,” he said.
Taric stood no taller than Sol, and weighed ten pounds less, but he seemed to loom over the wolf. He poked Sol in the chest with a finger as hard as his expression, as rough and dirty as his scent. “Tanny can call you whatever name she wants. You get it?”
“Then I can call her—”
“You call her anything but ‘Tanny’ an’ I will put you through that locker. You got that?” Again, the finger stabbed at him. Again, Sol wished for a big red elk to stand behind him and protect him.
“I—”
“You. Got. That.” Taric took a step forward.
“Yeah.” Sol hated backing down, hated it. You’ll make it up on the field, he told himself.
But Taric wasn’t moving away. He took another step forward, making Sol take a step back. The coyote might be lighter, but he had his shirt off and his wiry body seemed carved of lean muscle. “Damn right you got that. And lemme tell you somethin’ else. I catch you eyein’ me in the shower, I’m gonna rip your boner off.”
At that, Sol could do nothing but nod, and that seemed to satisfy the coyote. “And if you turn around and look at me while I’m changing, I’ll rip your ears off. Got it?”
Sol bit back the tears. He had to face his locker anyway to get his uniform on, so it wasn’t a big deal, not a big deal at all. He stared at the gold shirt and maroon pants swinging from the hanger in his locker, the maroon writing on the shirt that said “Giants” on the front, with his name and the number 75 on the back. On the sleeve, in machine-like cursive, the sponsor “Joliette’s Auto Body” and a phone number swung back and forth. Behind him, the locker room activity slowly faded away. He sighed and reached for the shirt.
The locker room was empty when he turned around, save for two other bench-warmers. He trotted out to the field and stood up beside Mr. Zerling, watching the infielders take ground balls hit by the batting coach. Mr. Zerling, a muscular wolf with more grey than brown in his fur and a scar along his nose, was taking notes on a clipboard, looking frequently back up at the players, making it hard for Sol to figure out how to interrupt him to ask his question.
He looked out at the players, too. He wasn’t one of the starters any more, but he hadn’t been one of the backups before, either. Neither group seemed particularly interested in his status, but the wolves in the starting lineup went out of their way to include Taric in their calls to each other, as much a part of practice as the actual physical moves. “Nice hustle there, ’yote,” they’d call, or “Shake that ratty tail, look alive.” None of them even spared a look for Sol, who two days ago had been out
The twisting in his gut was too much. He snapped back at her. “What, like he does you?”
“Shut up, fag.”
“You still sleep in the same bed, right?”
“Shut up !”
“Does your mom—”
He didn’t know what he was going to say about their mom, and he never got the chance to find out, because Tanny smacked him hard across the muzzle, blunt claws dragging across the thin fur. “Shut up!” she shrieked.
She stomped away, and even though Sol had gotten her to leave him alone, he felt no sense of pride or victory. He felt dirty, ashamed, because he’d sunk to her level, he’d made himself no better than she was. He slunk into his math class with his tail curled around one leg and slouched at his desk, wishing he could take it back, knowing it wouldn’t do any good. Brooding over it, he took no notes for the first fifteen minutes of the class and spent the rest of it trying to catch up.
Tanny didn’t bother him for the rest of the day, but once he’d shoved his books into his locker and walked to the gym’s locker room, he had to deal with her brother. “What’d you say to my sister?” Taric demanded the moment Sol entered.
Here, Sol could no longer simply ignore the coyote. “She was giving me—calling me names,” he said.
Taric stood no taller than Sol, and weighed ten pounds less, but he seemed to loom over the wolf. He poked Sol in the chest with a finger as hard as his expression, as rough and dirty as his scent. “Tanny can call you whatever name she wants. You get it?”
“Then I can call her—”
“You call her anything but ‘Tanny’ an’ I will put you through that locker. You got that?” Again, the finger stabbed at him. Again, Sol wished for a big red elk to stand behind him and protect him.
“I—”
“You. Got. That.” Taric took a step forward.
“Yeah.” Sol hated backing down, hated it. You’ll make it up on the field, he told himself.
But Taric wasn’t moving away. He took another step forward, making Sol take a step back. The coyote might be lighter, but he had his shirt off and his wiry body seemed carved of lean muscle. “Damn right you got that. And lemme tell you somethin’ else. I catch you eyein’ me in the shower, I’m gonna rip your boner off.”
At that, Sol could do nothing but nod, and that seemed to satisfy the coyote. “And if you turn around and look at me while I’m changing, I’ll rip your ears off. Got it?”
Sol bit back the tears. He had to face his locker anyway to get his uniform on, so it wasn’t a big deal, not a big deal at all. He stared at the gold shirt and maroon pants swinging from the hanger in his locker, the maroon writing on the shirt that said “Giants” on the front, with his name and the number 75 on the back. On the sleeve, in machine-like cursive, the sponsor “Joliette’s Auto Body” and a phone number swung back and forth. Behind him, the locker room activity slowly faded away. He sighed and reached for the shirt.
The locker room was empty when he turned around, save for two other bench-warmers. He trotted out to the field and stood up beside Mr. Zerling, watching the infielders take ground balls hit by the batting coach. Mr. Zerling, a muscular wolf with more grey than brown in his fur and a scar along his nose, was taking notes on a clipboard, looking frequently back up at the players, making it hard for Sol to figure out how to interrupt him to ask his question.
He looked out at the players, too. He wasn’t one of the starters any more, but he hadn’t been one of the backups before, either. Neither group seemed particularly interested in his status, but the wolves in the starting lineup went out of their way to include Taric in their calls to each other, as much a part of practice as the actual physical moves. “Nice hustle there, ’yote,” they’d call, or “Shake that ratty tail, look alive.” None of them even spared a look for Sol, who two days ago had been out
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