2. Flint

2

FLINT

T wo Targets, one record store, and three Wal-Marts later, we have an entire car full of Liam Wilder stuff. There are keychains, stuffies, journals, and so many of those goddamn bobble-heads, it takes me three trips to carry them all to our bedroom. As soon as we arrive, Dominic disappears, leaving me to haul all the stuff by myself.

He returns a few minutes later with a box of tools. Without a word, he plops down at the center of our room and grabs a bobble-head doll, tearing it out of its box. I won't lie, it's kind of satisfying to watch him cut the head off with a pair of garden shears.

Dominic warned me that he was scary back when we first met, and for the first time, I think there might be some truth to that statement.

"Go on, now. There are thirty-seven dolls. If I have to destroy them by myself, I'll be here all day," he says.

Oh. I get to participate in the destruction of Liam Wilder merch. I sit down next to him and reach for a doll with a little more enthusiasm than is probably necessary.

Dominic has extricated a set of sharpies from his toolbox. He picks up Liam's head, which is now completely separated from his body, and draws a line coming from his mouth with the red sharpie.

I guess we aren't just going for destruction here. We're killing the dolls. That's a little violent, but okay. I reach for the garden shears.

Dominic taps my hand away. "Don't be lazy. You have to murder yours in a different way."

I glance back at the pile of thirty-seven dolls. This is going to take a while.

Mom pops in the doorway. "Good morning! I was just wondering…" she trails off when she sees all the Liam Wilder merch on the floor around our bed. "That's interesting. I wouldn't have expected Dominic to collect?—"

He cracks the next bobble-head open with a hammer.

"The plan is to destroy the merch," I explain to Mom.

She brightens a bit at that. "Oh, that's thoughtful of him. A little on the angry side for a nest, but that's okay. I'm off to the grocery store. Do you boys want anything? Kade and Otis need a babysitter tonight, so I thought I'd get some of those popsicles the kids like."

Mom has become the enthusiastic babysitter of all my new friends' children, under the guise of learning how to take care of mixed species shifter kids. In reality, she spoils them all rotten, regardless of what they can shift into. Our living room is already bursting at the seams with toys, and our chick isn't even born yet.

"We could use more oranges. But no more toys, okay?" I say.

She doesn't say anything to that, she just smiles politely in a way that means there will definitely be more toys in our house by the end of the day.

I remind myself that I love living with her. I really do. Even when she buys so many toys that our literal mansion feels small.

Dominic has fashioned a noose for his next doll. That's officially creepy.

"Should I be worried?" I ask Mom.

"Nah. Fairy penguin shifters have a flair for the dramatic when they nest. Just let him have what he wants and praise him from time to time. It will all be over in a few weeks."

It is nice that Dominic understands how hard the Liam Wilder thing was for me. His nest is a little concerning, but it's also a demonstration of love.

He takes a green sharpie to one of the dolls, coloring across his face.

"How did that one die?" I ask, trying to show my support.

"He was poisoned. Obviously."

Right. I'm trying very hard to not think about how quickly he was able to come up with five unique ways of killing his dolls. I'm still on my first one.