Free Barefoot Dogs by Antonio Ruiz-Camacho Page A

soon as next week. I asked if we were all going home right after, and she said no. She said that they were looking for a place for the four of us to stay, that they were checking out houses online in Connecticut, ’cause it’s cheaper than the city.”
    “You’re fucking kidding me.”
    “Am I fucking laughing?”
    • • •
    “What about Grandpa? Did she say anything about him?”
    “No.”
    “Did you ask her?”
    “What do you think?”
    “So?”
    “She changed the subject. She wanted to know how we were liking the apartment. She said Philippe had told them we’d love its shabby-chic-ness . Go fucking figure.”
    “Did you tell her it’s a fucking shabby-chic mess ?”
    “Seriously, dude, no more pills for you. That shit’s dumbing you down. Grandpa’s probably dead already. God only knows what’s going on at home. Do you really think Mom and Dad could give a fuck about this filthy joint right now? We’re not going back, Ximena! We’re staying here for good ! Do you fucking get it? Do you?”
    “Don’t yell at me.”
    “Then stop talking like someone squeezed your stupid brain up your fucking fat ass, moron!”
    • • •
    “You’re not the only one freaking out, okay?”
    “But I seem to be the only one still trying to think straight.”
    “Your problem is that you’re so scared you’re probably peeing in your pants right now, but you’ll never admit it.”
    “And what’s your problem with that?”
    “That I’m here too. And you’re making me feel lonely as shit.”
    • • •
    “Are you sure we’ll be fine? That last headache was a bitch, man.”
    “Yeah, I’ve tried these before. We’ll be good.”
    “I don’t know why I still trust you.”
    • • •
    “You there, chimp?”
    “Here. What.”
    “One day, we’ll go back to the past, you know?”
    “How’s that?”
    “Everything will be like it used to be. Not like, a month ago, but way back. Back to how it should have been in the first place. Ancient and natural and . . . correct .”
    “We’ll be so doomed by then. We’ll be history, dude. We’ll be done already.”
    “Nah, we’ll still be around. It’ll happen sooner than you think. Everybody will be like, ‘ What the fuck? ’ and no one will be able to make sense of any of it. No one will be able to explain how it happened, and everybody will be so fucking scared they will all want to shit in their pants. But they won’t.”
    “Why not?”
    “’Cause we’ll be there to say, ‘ Chill . It’s okay to be afraid. We’ll be fine.’ ”
    • • •
    “Ximena?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “What is it about guys that freaks you out?”
    “Like you really want to know.”
    “Fine. But then don’t come to me complaining that I don’t listen to your shit.”
    • • •
    “Dicks. Just their dicks, okay?”
    “What about them?”
    “Carla and Michelle and everybody else are now totally into them, as though they were collecting them. I didn’t want to feel left out.”
    “Got it. So you went and had some. And . . .”
    “It was gross.”
    “What about boobs?”
    “I’m not a lesbian, asshole, if that’s what you’re trying to say.”
    “Wouldn’t be the end of the world. What’s the problem with liking boobs?”
    “That I really wanted to like guys.”
    • • •
    “Does Grandpa really ask you about girls all the time?”
    “He’s relentless .”
    “That’s gross.”
    “Remember the time he made a business trip to São Paulo over spring break and I went with him?”
    “Uh-huh.”
    “One night, after dinner, his colleagues went to a nightclub. Grandpa said he was tired, but that I should go. I said okay, thinking that we’d just have caipirinhas, dance samba with beautiful garotas, you know? We got to the club, and a woman at the entrance asked if I was going to get full service . Before I could answer, one of his colleagues said that I was, and paid for me. I looked at him, all confused. He just patted me on the