Caleb, Matt, and Travis — Queer Kids
The Good Stuff, Part One
“I’m sorry, but I have to be sure you’ll be safe first.”
Caleb shoots up in bed, belly pain failing to slow him down. He’s tired of people telling him what to do.
Over it.
“So, who the hell are you, lady? If I wanna go see my parents, I will. You just try stoppin’ me!”
“I didn’t say I didn’t want you to see your folks, buddy.”
The 15-year-old boy eyes the tall woman narrowly as she backs off and fusses around with a pitcher on the bedside table.
She told him it was her job to protect him. He wonders what she really wants. Or wants to do to him.
She holds up the pitcher, showing off red-painted nails and lots of tattoo ink peeking out from crisp long sleeves. “Can I bring you some more water? Or how about I sneak you in a soda? Nurses don’t scare me.”
He thinks her wink looks fake.
Just for a second, he wants to ask for a candy bar, anyway. He hasn’t had any chocolate since his parents made him go to that place.
His mouth opens instead, almost by itself, with a demand. “Look, I don’t want nuthin from you, OK? I told you guys all the stuff those people…
