Whether I was at work or I was at home, I walked around looking over my shoulder.

Ever since that night between us, something in Garrett had changed. There was no admiration in his eyes anymore; I was no longer someone worthy of respect. I was just a weakling, and thus, he treated me accordingly. I didn’t want to admit that it hurt, but it did.

Garrett wasn’t the only one acting different: DeShawn and Rob seemed to walk around me more delicately, and even Liam’s jokes lost their humor, giving way to a sharpened hostility instead. Was I really so pathetic that everyone had developed a sixth sense for it? It was both humiliating and aggravating all at once. I told myself not to think about it.

Besides, now that the fires were starting to recur more frequently again, I had more important things to worry about than station politics. Soon, I’d be seeing Dahlia again, and I knew I was getting close to a break in the investigation. All of this schoolyard bullshit would just have to wait.

That afternoon, as I walked by the apparatus bay to look for a mop and bucket, I heard the echo of a voice ring throughout.

“… about Manny lately?”

That was Garrett’s voice. Immediately, I ducked behind the wall to hide, craning my neck so that I could listen in. The clanking of metal against metal indicated someone in there was inspecting the tools of the apparatus, or perhaps rearranging a tool box.

“Like what?” asked Heather.

“Oh, I don’t know…” Garrett’s tone held such sincerity, it sickened me. “Lately, it seems like he's just… really stressed out, you know?”

“Eh, I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about,” she replied as she moved a few of the parts around. “He’s always been kind of high-strung. He’s got a lot of issues.”

“This isn’t about being high-strung!” He interrupted. “He's still on about that arson stuff, and he's always getting in fights with Liam, and— there was this one time, in his room, I walked in and—”

With each second that Garrett was quiet, my stomach sank deeper.

“I— I shouldn’t say it. It was personal, and… I don’t want to air out his dirty laundry.” He kept his voice wretchedly honey-sweet as he sighed. “Look, I'm not trying to start drama. I’m only asking 'cause… you're the only one who won't make fun of me for being worried. All the guys just keep blowing me off.”

Heather let out a heartfelt hum. “Aw, sweetie, I think it's great that you actually care. Unlike those bozos, I'm all about that 'unit cohesion' stuff. Don’t let them make you feel bad for having a heart.”

“Well, it’s more than that.” Another meaningful, scripted pause. “When I first got here, Manny was the only one who really took the time to show me the ropes instead of messing with me all the time. And after that warehouse accident... I don't know. He just really needs someone to look out for him. And I’m trying to look out for him the way he looks out for me.”

“You’re a good kid, Gare.” Judging from the sound, she patted him, probably on the shoulder since he was too tall for her to pat on the head. “Have you tried talking to him about it? Manny, I mean.”

“Yeah, but he just shuts me out,” he replied. “It’s like he’s scared of getting close to people.”

My blood was boiling, and the buzzing - that constant, nonstop buzzing that haunted me everywhere I went - started to spread down to my chest, filling my ribcage and traveling down my arms. Given the chance, I could probably rip through steel, I was so furious.

“Don't take it personally— it's not about you. He's been through a lot. I don't know the full story, but…” The apparatus let out a series of clangs and clacks as Heather inspected it. “He’s like one of those sad little dogs on the ASPCA commercials. You have to give him time to trust you, and he'll open up eventually. Be patient with him.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” One more earnest little sigh from Garrett. “You pretty much always are, though.”

“Damn straight!” She laughed. “Hey, tell you what, I'll try talking to him. We're not super close, but we've always gotten along pretty well. He might listen to me.”

“No, no, it'd probably piss him off if everyone in the station was pestering him about it,” he said. “All I'm asking is that… if you notice anything, let me know."

"Mmhm,” she hummed. “No problemo, Garebear."

“You know, it’s funny, I— I was so nervous coming in to talk to you, but… I feel better already.” Garrett’s boot squeaked against the floor as he shifted his weight side to side. “I guess I’m all scrambled up because I just want Manny to be okay.”

The audacity of this fucking son of a bitch, I thought. The itching was rapidly becoming downright excruciating.

Heather made a little tsk-tsk noise. “Sheesh, that kind of stuff is why Liam’s always calling you a homo.”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Eh, screw him. Liam’s so insecure, he practically thinks it’s gay that he loves his son,” he scoffed. “The less I can understand his logic, the better off I am.”

“So true!” At last, Heather closed up the apparatus. “Well, I’ll keep an eye on Manny. And if you’re super worried, you can always talk to the Chief about it.”

“I hadn’t even thought of that…” He said it as if a new avenue had opened before him. “Thanks, Heather.”

I couldn’t take the itching anymore. I scratched my arms to relieve the sensations enveloping them, tearing into myself so hard that I drew blood. With blood came a little pair of compound eyes, peeking out from the scratch marks all over my skin.

I didn’t care anymore. I gave into the itch, the pain, the rage, letting the little eyes emerge from my flesh as I ripped myself to pieces to free them. That little pair of eyes was soon joined by another pair, and another, and another, and another, until at least a dozen wasps had crawled their way out of my skin and into the open air.

With all of the wasps surrounding me now, the buzzing had finally left my head - because now it was outside of it, circling around me as if relishing their newfound freedom.

Before I could make sense of a damn thing that was happening, footsteps approached from down the hall where I had been standing and listening, so I made a quick escape into a utility closet to hide. The wasps followed in quick pursuit, slipping right into the darkness with me.

In the closet, I felt the wasps flutter back onto my arms, but I wasn’t sure what they were doing until my eyes had fully adjusted.

The light from underneath the door proved strong enough for me to watch as they wedged themselves back through the cuts on my arms; then the skin healed over completely, as if they were finally coming home.

･ ･ ･

I wasn’t paranoid. I wasn’t imagining things. I knew exactly what I saw.

And the weight of it all was a punch to the gut.

Once everyone had retired to their dorms for the night, I spent over an hour in the gym trying to push, punch and throw my way out of the simmering anger that still lurked inside. My knuckles began to bruise as I beat them relentlessly against the punching bag, and each strike felt like it could summon the wasps again. My mind raced with questions I had no answers to.

How far did this go?

Was I infested?

Was I even human anymore, or had my body become some kind of hive?

With one final hit to the bag, I sighed shakily. As I let my breathing even out, I glanced down at my knuckles, which were shades of pink and red, smudged in blood where the skin had broken. Upon looking more closely, I saw no eyes or wings, only blood. I was relieved, but just barely.

I hauled myself over to the showers, but I spent most of the time simply letting the water run down my face, lost in a trance. When I couldn’t justify staying in there any longer, I shut the water off and took my towel with me to the locker room, moving on complete autopilot.

While I sat on the bench and dried off, the door opened, and Garrett entered with a towel wrapped around his waist. His bronze-blond hair lay slick against his forehead until he smoothed it back, and he was freshly shaven all the way down to his collarbone. I hadn’t even realized he’d been in there with me, but at the sight of him, I glowered.

“Manny!” Garrett said warmly. “You’re up pretty late, aren’t you?”

I quietly proceeded to undo my towel and slip into my boxers, refusing to dignify him with a response. To steady myself, I counted from ten.

“Hey, now that I’ve caught you, I’ve been meaning to ask…” He looked over his shoulder, his eyebrows pressed together in fake concern. “Are you avoiding me?”

Nine, eight, seven…

“'Cause that kind of hurts my feelings,” he continued. “I really thought we were friends.”

Six, five, four…

He turned to open his locker, hanging the towel over the door. “Then again, you aren’t really the type to have friends, are you?”

Three… two…

“You’re a lone wolf. I get that.” Swiftly, he brought his sweatpants over his hips, tying them off in the front. “I don’t think I’d keep people too close if I had your skeletons in my closet, either.”

Fuck it— one.

I leapt up from the bench and got behind Garrett so fast, he didn’t even have time to react.

Forcefully, I grabbed the back of his neck and slammed him against the locker door hard enough to shake the whole row. As he cursed loudly from the impact, I held his face against the metal.

“Listen closely, ‘cause this is your only warning,” I growled into his ear. “You keep fucking with me, and you’re going to regret it.”

“Is that so?” Even now, that stupid smirk wouldn’t budge from his face. “Funny— I think you’re more of a danger to yourself than anyone else.”

Gritting my teeth, I slammed Garrett into the locker again, and this time, instead of a grunt, he let out a throaty groan. When he tried to move, I buried my hand in his hair and pressed him into the locker. “Is that a challenge?”

He made no move to push me back, simply watching me from the corner of his eye. “It’s a dare.”

In disgust, I yanked Garrett away from the locker and threw him away to the side. He stumbled, but caught his footing by clinging to the locker door, which creaked as it bent from the weight of his fall.

Now that I could see him face to face, I saw the bruise forming along the crescent of Garrett’s cheekbone, along with the blood running down the little dip above his lips. Despite this, he still smiled, and luckily for him, I had just enough self restraint not to knock those pretty little teeth right out of his mouth.

Silently, I dressed in my station uniform, having given up on the notion of chasing after sleep. In contrast, Garrett finished getting dressed looking like he’d gotten exactly what he’d hoped for. As he left, that sinking, nauseated feeling washed over me.

Somehow, I'd suddenly become a pawn in a game I never wanted to play, and now I was stuck in it until someone won.

I just didn’t know who would.