28. which one owns a pet that the other is absolutely terrified of?
Philâs sitting at the breakfast bar when Dan gets home, hunched over something. A glass box, Dan realizes, from the transparent corners poking out past Philâs shoulders.Â
He hesitates at the top of the stairs. âWhat did you do?â
Phil looks over, smiling wide. âGod us a pet,â he says. His voice is too high.Â
Dan narrows his eyes. âWhat kind of pet?â
Phil shrugs. âCome and see.â
He swallows, lingering by the stairs for a moment longer. Philâs toes are curled tight around the bar at the bottom of his stool, his shoulders draw up tight. Thereâs a box by his elbow that Dan recognizes.Â
âWhy do you have more crickets?â
Phil shrugs. âThatâs what the pet store said to feed him.â
He steps forward, finally, walking past the sofa and stopping right at the boundary where hardwood floor turns into kitchen tile. He can see more of the tank from here, the black edge and dirt piled up at the bottom.Â
âI donât trust you,â says Dan.
Phil turns, just his head. âYou do,â he says, a hint of laughter in his voice. âWeâre fish dads! I figured we could handle another pet. More Corgi prep.â
âShibe,â says Dan automatically. And then, âOr whatever we can find up for adoption that we like.â
âJust come see,â says Phil. âYouâll like him.â
Dan sighs and drags himself the last few steps forward. He sees one long, hairy leg past Philâs arm, and then another, and another, andâ He jumps back. Phil reaches into the tank.
âPhil! What the actual fuck!â
The spider hits him right in the face, and lands on the floor with a quiet tap. Plastic.
âI fucking hate you,â says Dan, reaching down to swipe the spider off the floor. He tosses it at Philâs head and watches it bounce off his shoulder. âNo sweets for you for a month.â
Philâs smile doesnât fade. His tongueâs still poking out from between his teeth. âI got you!âÂ
Dan feels his own face soften into a smile, too, even as his heart keeps pounding.