# Dragon in the Dishwater, Ch 8

Author: comidacomida
Tags: Angst, Bad Language, Character Development, Dragon, Highschool, Human, Magic, No-Yiff, Plot Development, Psychological, sociological

Dragon in the Dishwater  
Chapter 8  
copyright 2010 comidacomida

Eric walked his empty cereal bowl over to the sink and set it on the counter, "I still don't  
think this is a good idea." he explained to the small dragon which still sat on the table  
watching him.

"It is a very good idea." Hiraeth responded, "I like this idea very much."

"Well I don't." Eric answered, walking into the living room. He heard, based on the sound of  
talons scrambling across the table that Hiraeth would not be far behind. Eric reflexively  
leaned away as if on cue the little dragon shot past him on wing, three flaps getting him to the  
steps next to the front door. The teen felt a back blast of wind from one of Hiraeth's downward  
beats catch him in the arm, and he paused, rubbing at it, "That's so... weird."

"What is?" the dragon asked, watching him from the steps, its nicticating membranes blinking  
horizontally at him.

"Just... nothing." Eric shrugged, still rubbing his arm, "It's just weird getting used to having  
something flapping around the house."

"Something, or someone?" the dragon cocked its head to the side.

"You know what I--" Eric paused, "I didn't mean...." he sighed, "Right... I'm not used to  
someone flapping around the house." He glanced to the dragon who nodded at the correction. Eric  
took a deep breath, calming himself as he realized Hiraeth was distracting him from the matter  
at hand, "I don't think you should go with me to school today."

"I do." Hiraeth pointed out, standing up and trotting down the steps to position himself beside  
the door. He sat up, balancing himself on his hind legs, tail assisting with the stance, "It  
will be good for both of us."

"The last time I heard that was when my dad's lawyer quoted him... he was serving my mom with  
divorce papers." Eric said flatly.

"It is already good for you... you're talking more openly about your family." Hiraeth noted,  
going down back to all fours, "Besides... I will let you see me so you will know where I am. If  
you wish to openly oppose the idea I can always follow you without you seeing me."

"You-- I-- you can't just--" but Eric realized the argument was over. Hiraeth sat facing the  
door, almost like a dog waiting to go out. Eric would have found the comparison more humorous  
if not for the fact that he realized Hiraeth was not a dog, and was, quite effectively  
blackmailing him; although Hiraeth hadn't caused any trouble up to that point the possibility of  
something going wrong always magnified whenever high school was added into the equation.

"Nothing will go wrong, Eric... as long as you relax." the dragon commented, almost as if  
reading his mind.

"I wish that were for sure." the teen replied, mostly to himself, grabbing his backpack and  
opening the door.

Hiraeth casually trotted out right in front of him and then stepped to the side. He faced  
eastward, raising his reptilian wings, cupping them forward toward the morning sun as he faced  
it. The dragon's eye membranes shut again and Eric stood, transfixed, watching as Hiraeth's  
membranes quickly darkened in hue. "Ah... it feels just as I remember it." the dragon noted,  
obviously deep in rapture.

"Well, if we're going to do this then we'd better get going. Classes start in ten minutes and  
the walk is almost that long." Eric cut his inspection of the dragon short. While he had to  
admit to himself that he had more than a few questions for Hiraeth rolling around in his head he  
also didn't want to fall into the dragon's trap. He knew once he started talking with Hiraeth  
then the dragon would become the focus of his attention; he had too much class work and too long  
of a day to let that happen.

"This feels familiar." Hiraeth noted, pausing as the they passed the park.

Eric glanced three blocks up to their next turn, then came to a stop. He looked down at the  
little dragon, who was staring out across the green expanse. "This is where I found your egg,  
by a tree." he explained. He knelt down next to Hiraeth and pointed, "It's the one away from  
the walkway over there."

"Hey!" a shout from off to the side almost caused Eric to fall over in panic. He quickly stood  
up and moved to interpose himself between Hiraeth and a lady in jogging gear. She was probably  
in her early thirties and, Eric considered, probably trying to get back into shape after having  
a kid or some other self-obsessive reason to kill herself every day with a three mile early  
morning jog.

"Her father died of a heart attack and her mother is in the hospital with arterial fibrillation.  
Her older brother is overweight and is on heart medication to help his own condition." Hiraeth  
explained, glancing past Eric's legs.

"What?" Eric questioned, looking back at Hiraeth.

"I said 'hey'!" the woman replied, slowing her jog as she approached.

"No... I..." Eric paused, looking back at her, "Never mind."

"That your dog?" she asked, jogging in place. She pointed with a hand at Hiraeth, who sat at  
Eric's side, having walked into the open.

"My... dog?" he turned down to look at the dragon. Eric's eyes searched the dragon's face for a  
cue until he saw the paper cuff hanging from his horn.

"Yea. He looks just like the bulldog I had YEARS ago. Is he friendly?" she asked, kneeling  
down.

"I guess so..." Eric replied, still staring at Hiraeth. The dragon seemed completely  
unconcerned by the attention and, the young man realized, actually seemed to be enjoying his  
discomfort at the situation.

"Yes. The dog is friendly." Hiraeth spoke, though the words seemed strange in Eric's mind, as  
if they were blended in with what he was certain was a calm 'woof. woof... barwoo.'.

"Oh my god... he's just a GREAT dog!" the woman noted, patting Hiraeth between his horns and  
rubbing the side of his snout. Hiraeth grinned up at Eric and extended his black, forked  
tongue, licking the woman on the palm. "I just love how well behaved he is. You don't even have  
him on a leash and he stays so close."

"Yea... he's following me to school." Eric answered flatly.

"Wow. What's his name?" the woman asked, rubbing both of Hiraeth's scaled cheeks.

"PITA." Eric answered.

"Pita? Like the bread?" she asked, looking up at Eric.

"Yea... like the bread." the young man answered, crossing his arms, "Listen... I don't wanna be  
rude or anything, but I'm gonna be late to class." he said, not bothering to try and hide his  
annoyance enough to pull off the lie about not wanting to be rude.

"Oh... sure." she said, standing up, "Sorry... I just haven't seen a bull dog around in this  
area for awhile... I grew up around em."

Eric shrugged, "Well... better get back to your jog."

"Sure. Thanks." she smiled, "Bye, Pita!" she waved at Hiraeth and continued on past.

"Alright... what in the HELL was that about?" Eric managed to keep his voice down, mumbling it  
harshly aside at Hiraeth, who trotted beside him casually.

"Pita?" Hiraeth asked.

Eric nodded, "Yea... P-I-T-A... it's short for Pain In The Ass."

"Oh." Hiraeth nodded, "That name suggests that a dog probably bites."

"Just... forget it." Eric answered, starting his walk anew, "This is going to be a LONG day."

~God...~ he thought to himself, ~just kill me now.~

\* \* \* \* \* \*

"Good of you to join us, Mister Bradish." noted his teacher as Eric slid into the room. The  
bell had rung for first period five minutes prior, and the teen could only curse his luck as  
every single eye in the room gazed at him.

"I could have walked." Hiraeth spoke, voice muffled from within his backpack.

"Quiet." Eric murmured to the dragon.

"Excuse me?" Mr oliver inquired, white-board pen half-uncapped as he turned to regard Eric.

"I..." Eric froze where he stood, realizing that he spoke the word louder than he had planned,  
"I was just telling myself to be quiet so I wouldn't interrupt the class. 'Quiet down,  
Bradish!' You know... like that." he offered a helpless grin. Thankfully, Mr Oliver didn't  
press the issue and simply turned back around to start writing equations on the board.

Eric suffered through a few more jeering snerks and whispers as he took his seat. He didn't  
particularly need the reminder that he hated his fellow students, but he got it in spades. The  
young man put up his blinders to the rest of the world and took out his text book and paperwork  
and focused in on the instructor... right up to the point where Hiraeth climbed out of his  
backpack.

"Get back in there." Eric leaned down and whispered.

"I will be fine out here." Hiraeth reassured him, but Eric was not reassured.

"You'll get me in trouble!" Eric pressed.

"You'll get you in trouble if you don't pay--" Hiraeth's comment was cut short.

"Drop your pencil, Mister Bradish?" Mr Oliver called from the front of the class.

Hiraeth nimbly pulled a pencil out of the small pouch on Eric's backpack and offered it up.  
Thinking a hundred reasons why he shouldn't take it, the teen nonetheless accepted it and  
straightened in his chair, "Yes, sir! Right here! Sorry." he felt his face flush, and he hated  
every second of the chorus of laughs, snickers, and giggles that made its way around the room.

Eric had never had trouble focusing in Calculus; for him, it was a kind of mental yoga: it  
caused him to stretch and bend in all sorts of ways, but when it came down to it, he felt  
healthier after a long session. Unfortunately for Eric, he found it impossible to concentrate,  
his thoughts and attention returning to the small dragon seated beside his chair, casually  
holding a pencil in its paws as it followed along with Mr Oliver's instruction. The distraction  
lasted right through the end of class bell, and Eric slumped in his seat, letting out a groan as  
everyone else got up and left.

Eric finally labored to stand, half-wishing he could have just remained slumped in his seat,  
"Mister Bradish... a word with you please." Mr Oliver requested. Eric suddenly wished that he'd  
already abandoned the seat and the room in its entirety.

Without saying a word, Eric approached Mr Oliver, who was seated at his desk. The teacher had  
one of his white board markers in his hand, and was casually tapping it against the top of his  
desk, "How are you, Eric?" Mr Oliver inquired.

"Fine, sir." Eric responded, "I was just running a little late today and I had a lady stop me  
outside the park and I had a small problem with my backpack..." he glanced back to his desk,  
where Hiraeth was casually packing away Eric's book and paperwork back into the bag.

"I see... well, I can certainly appreciate a little tardiness one day considering the fact that  
you're always early."

"Thank you, Sir. It won't happen again. I promise." and Eric exhaled, thankful that the  
conversation was over. He was just about to turn around to gather his things, but Mr Oliver  
continued.

"Is something wrong, Eric?" the teacher asked.

"Wrong?" Eric inquired, turning back around, feeling the discomfort return anew, "Um... I don't  
think so."

"You seemed distracted today. Out of EVERYONE in my class, you were the last one I expected to  
have such an 'off day'." he stopped tapping the marker on the table.

"Just... a lot on my mind, Mr Oliver." Eric admitted evasively.

"You know if there's a problem, there are any number of teachers, staff, and faculty you can  
talk to." Mr Oliver sat up in his chair, leaning forward empathetically.

"He's thinking about Bobby Klein." Hiraeth said from beside Eric, holding the young man's  
backpack up to him.

"Bobby Klein?" Eric asked before he thought to stop himself.

Mr Oliver paused, tensing up. "Did you know Bobby?"

Eric had to think fast, "Know Bobby? Uh... no... I was just thinking about a name I heard  
somewhere."

The teacher sat back in his chair, eyes searching Eric's face as if looking for some kind of  
clue, "Would you tell me if something were wrong?" he asked seriously.

Eric knew he wouldn't... there wasn't any reason to discuss problems... it didn't make things  
better and didn't make them go away, "Of course, Sir." he lied convincingly.

"No he won't." Hiraeth said, his voice coming out once again in the strange, blended tone, making  
it sound as if he were listening at one end of a long pipe as Hiraeth whispered in the other.

"I know you may not believe it, but I AM worried about more things than making sure my students  
get good grades." Mr Oliver stood up, "If something's wrong, please let me know... I want to  
help."

A buzz from the intercom system indicated that he had two minutes to get to class, "I gotta go,  
Mr Oliver." Eric said quickly, thankful that he was saved by the bell, "I'm fine... honest."

\* \* \* \* \* \*

Eric's second class of the day was Language Arts. He didn't have anything against the class but  
he also didn't particularly care for it. His assigned seat was near the back of the room, a  
fact that suited him just fine as he was left alone to anonymity among the other students. The  
Language Arts room consisted of large, two-student tables, and Lacey Tippen was apparently  
absent, which meant that Eric had the entire table to himself. Hiraeth took the opportunity to  
hop up beside him, using the spare place as a perch.

The class consisted of writing time. Eric considered that Free-Write Mondays were a time when  
Mrs Landow could just sit at her desk and not have to do anything; students were given the full  
class period to practice a writing style or technique that she had written on the board, and  
their work would be assessed the following day. The topic on the board was "Dialogue", and Eric  
was supposed to put a story together using only dialogue with no narration.

He stared down at his blank paper and slowly wrote out: WHO IS BOBBY KLEIN?

Hiraeth looked over his shoulder, holding a pencil like a long walking stick. He glanced at the  
paper, then looked up to Eric, then down to the paper, and slid closer, putting his own pencil  
onto it and wrote using both talons: BOBBY KLEIN WAS A STUDENT AT THIS SCHOOL. HE KILLED HIMSELF EIGHT YEARS AGO.

Eric paused, and looked at Hiraeth questioningly. Hiraeth looked up from the paper and smiled  
at Eric, nicticating membranes blinking. Without saying a word, the dragon motioned to the  
paper with his head. The teen watched the dragon for another moment then looked back to the  
paper and wrote: HOW DO YOU KNOW?

HOW DOES A TELEVISION WORK? Hiraeth didn't write out the response, rather, he moved his tail,  
and Eric saw that it was already written.

Eric felt his blood pressure increase immediately, but he kept his glare in check and readjusted  
his death grip on his pencil and wrote: DID YOU KNOW I WAS GOING TO ASK THAT?

Hiraeth grinned his little needly sharp grin, I CONSIDERED IT MORE LIKELY THAN NOT.

Eric let out a breath, mumbling the conversation as he reread it, then set his pencil to the  
paper once again: WHAT ABOUT THE LADY IN THE PARK? DO YOU REALLY THINK THAT'S THE REASON SHE RUNS EVERY DAY?

Hiraeth looked at what Eric wrote and then gazed up at him, an eye ridge raising. He spoke up,  
"I don't THINK that's why she does it... I KNOW it is."

The dragon's ephemeral voice seemed loud in the room when the only other sounds were the  
scribbling of pencils and occasional sighs or yawns. It took a moment for Eric to realize,  
however, that Hiraeth's muzzle had not moved, and the strange quality of the tone left him with  
the impression that he didn't hear it with his ears.

Eric stared at Hiraeth, focusing his mind in on the dragon, giving in to the passing thought of  
telepathy. He almost laughed at his own stupidity for considering it, but he focused a pointed  
~Do you read minds?~ thought at the dragon. He didn't get a response and Hiraeth was glancing  
back down at the paper again as if he were waiting for Eric's next line. Eric laughed mentally  
at himself and his foolishness.

YOU DON'T READ MINDS, DO YOU? he wrote.

The dragon's tail slid to the side revealing an already written line: NO, I DON'T READ MINDS.

"What in--" Eric began to speak aloud but managed to cover the words with a cough. Looking up,  
he glanced at the clock. He didn't know where all the time had gone, but he was surprised to  
see that there was only another five minutes before class was over. He glanced to Hiraeth, who  
offered him the pencil he had used. Eric accepted it and put them both away, folding up the  
paper that held the physical proof of their discussion. He realized that his class period had  
been wasted; instead of working on classwork he had spent all of his time asking questions of  
Hiraeth that got no real answer and only raised more questions.

\* \* \* \* \* \*

US History class passed far faster than even Language Arts, but Eric was not going to complain.  
Hiraeth had thankfully been so enraptured with Mr Brown's discussion of the start of the civil  
war that Eric was widely able to ignore the dragon. After third period, Eric thankfully had  
thirty five minutes to regain his composure, seated at a table by himself in the cafeteria.  
Hiraeth vaulted up onto the table next to him and sat down, looking at him in anticipation.

"What's going on, Hiraeth?" Eric asked after verifying that no one was paying him any attention.

"I believe this is the time where you can eat your lunch between classes." the dragon answered.

"No... that's not what I meant." the young man huffed.

"Well, what do you mean?" Hiraeth inquired.

"All of this. You're here in school and nobody else even realizes you're here. You're telling  
me peoples' life stories and what they're thinking when you can't POSSIBLY know about them."  
Eric offered, "It just doesn't make sense."

"It makes sense to me." the dragon commented.

"Well not to me." Eric spoke, his voice a hushed exclamation.

"Would it make sense if I told you that I was reading their minds?" Hiraeth asked, cocking his  
head to the side.

"But you said you don't read minds." Eric countered.

"I do not, but that was not what I asked. I asked if it would make more sense if that's what I  
said I had been doing." the dragon responded plainly.

"Why bother asking then if you can't do it?" Eric questioned.

Hiraeth crossed his fore talons in front of himself and moved to lay down, resting his muzzle  
atop them as he did so, "Because I wanted to know if it would make more sense."

"That doesn't make sense at all either." Eric answered.

"My reasoning, or my reading minds as an explanation?" Hiraeth asked.

Eric stood up, letting out a loud, wordless exclamation in frustration. He froze immediately as  
numerous eyes turned to him, and he felt his face flush deeply. The teen made a quick exit and  
didn't look back.

He walked quickly into the bathroom and went up to one of the sinks and began splashing water on  
his face. Several thoughts crossed Eric's mind by that point including but not limited to the  
thought that he really HAD gone crazy and that he'd been talking to an imaginary creature the  
previous few days. Aside from the many arguments he had to why that wasn't the case, he finally  
settled on the thought that he was not creative enough to come up with the stories that Hiraeth  
had told him, nor knowledgeable enough to provide the kinds of explanations the dragon offered  
about things... that is, when he decided to actually explain.

"Towel?" Hiraeth's voice broke Eric out of his thoughts. Glancing to the side, Eric saw the  
dragon perched on the sink adjacent to his own. Hiraeth's ear sails were lowered and he held  
out a paper towel with both talons to him. Eric simply stared at the dragon, gazing at him as  
if trying to gain some clue about him through study. Finally, at length, Eric took the paper  
towel.

"Thank you." he said curtly.

"You are welcome, Eric." the dragon stated. There was quiet between them until Hiraeth spoke up  
again, "I am sorry, Eric. I did not mean to get you in trouble this morning, or embarrass you  
just now."

"Coulda fooled me." Eric answered, walking to the trash can to toss the used paper away.

"I truly was not." the dragon offered, "I want to learn and understand the things you learn and  
understand. I want to see what you do all day and find out why you think how you do."

"Why?" Eric asked.

"Why?" Hiraeth asked, cocking his head to the side, "I do not understand."

Eric gritted his teeth as he felt his blood pressure increase, "Why in the flying fuck do you  
care?!?!" he shouted.

Hiraeth was quiet for a moment, seated on the sink with his fore talons folded across his chest.  
His ear sails were fully compact against his head, and his neck was bent so that his muzzle  
pointed to the sink. He spoke quietly, "Sw i ddim in deall." and took a deep breath, speaking  
again, only in English, "I don't understand..."

"What is there to NOT understand?" Eric demanded, "Why are you pestering me? You're following  
me to school, and you're getting involved in EVERYTHING. You're making me late, getting me in  
trouble, making a fool out of me... and I want to know why! What is so god damn hard to  
understand about that?!?"

"I did not mean to do those things, Eric, and I am sorry." Hiraeth answered simply.

"Then what DID you mean to do?" the youth fumed.

"I wanted to spend time with you, and understand you, and get to know you more, and learn from  
you, and see the world the way you do." the dragon answered.

"Why?" Eric demanded, "I already asked! Why do you want to do all of those things? Why me?  
Why? WHY?!?"

"Because you are worth spending time with..." Hiraeth answered, looking up at him, "...and  
you're worth understanding... and you're worth getting to know more... and I know you could  
teach me a lot." he explained, and, added after a short pause, "...I had hoped that you would  
feel the same way."

Eric paused, his fury halted as Hiraeth looked up at him. He opened his mouth to speak, but  
nothing came out-- he normally despised being struck dumb, but he simply couldn't bring himself  
to focus any more fury on the dragon-- it had burned out.

"And... I think if I could see the world more like you it would help me do all those things  
better." the dragon noted, crawling its way from the adjacent sink to the sink Eric was standing  
beside. Hiraeth slid his snout underneath one of Eric's hands and slowly stood up, stopping  
once the hand was resting on his head, palm down, "I am not trying to cause you harm, Eric... I  
wouldn't harm you. I like you. I want to help."

"A lot of people say that to me all the time... and they're all full of shit." the teen stated,  
taking his hand off of the dragon's head.

"I am not." Hiraeth vowed quietly... and Eric, despite his desire to do so, simply couldn't  
disbelieve him.

"...I know." Eric admitted.

There were several quiet moments as neither said a thing. They stood where they were, each  
looking at the other until finally Eric moved. The youth made his way to the bathroom door,  
resting his hand on the wall beside it as he took a deep breath.

"I have biology next." he said, not looking back at the dragon.

"I know." Hiraeth spoke softly.

"I'm sorry I yelled."

"Thank you, Eric. I am sorry I have done so poorly today." Hiraeth admitted.

Eric took another breath and exhaled slowly. He glanced over his shoulder, "Are you ready to  
see if we can both do better?"

Hiraeth leapt the distance from the sink to Eric's shoulder, tail curling around the back of his  
neck, "I am... and we will." the dragon noted resolutely.

"I know we will." Eric nodded confidently.

"How do you know?" the dragon inquired, cocking its head to the side.

Eric's answer came without hesitation, the corner of his mouth perked in a smirk. "How does a TV  
work?"

&nbsp;

Source: https://sofurry.com/view/162492

Previous: https://fse.anthro.fr/stories/161894-dragon-in-the-dishwater-ch-7.md

