I opened the door that coinjoined our hotel rooms. We were on a high school trip to the Big Apple – New York itself – to help forward our dreams. We were all students at a prestigious performing arts school upstate, and our annual senior trip was for both work and pleasure. We all went to shows. Some of us went on auditions, worked with special tutors, or dropped off tapes to be considered for interview for positions in dance schools. The trip was nearly over as this was our last full day in New York. Tomorrow we’d get back on the train to go up north. 

I was however concerned that my roommate Mitch didn’t come home last night. I was up early as usual, and I was perplexed to find the bed empty. “Dillon?” I whispered. “Dillon are you awake?”
“Mmm?” He pushed off the comforter. “Yeah sort of,” he said, his voice thick with sleep. “What’s up? Morning run?”
I emerged from the doorway and walked to his side of the bed. “Not right now. It’s Mitch, he didn’t come back las…” and that’s when I noticed Mitch staring up at me, one eye barely open, looking a bit shy. “t…night. Oh uh. That um. Explains it then.” Mitch groaned and buried his face into the pillow. Dillon pulled his arm around the boy’s shoulders possessively. “Don’t worry. I’m looking out for him.”

I smiled. That was the right thing to say. Mitch was very talented, but a naiive lad from a small town. New York’s dance world could easily devour him alive.
“I’ll let you two get back to sleep,” I said, my voice a loud whisper. 
“Yeah,” Dillon said. He looked very satisfied.
I smiled and flashed him two thumbs up. He winked at me.
I glanced at the other empty twin bed. “Where’s Sarah?”
“With that hot violin player she won’t shut up about.”
“Oh. Chang. Got it. Ok.” I suddenly felt giddy. It was so wonderful to see my friends find time for themselves in a hectic, busy world of young performers. So often the teenage years get skipped or missed. Seeing everyone experience young love just made me so happy that I was part of this family. I gave Dillon another thumbs up. “See you at breakfast?”
He lifted the corner of one side of his mouth then pulled the comforter over him and Mitch. 

I was about to shut the door when I had a thought. I tip toed to the window and drew the blinds, then I left without a sound.

When I woke up, there was a delicious smelling bag from Corey’s Pastries on my nightstand. On it was a note: “Thanks for being a great friend, Dillon.” 

I sighed dreamily. New York really was where dreams came true.

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Text is fictional.

I snicker over my coffee. “I saw that.”
“What?” Callum blushes, moving the bread rope away from his crotch. “I was not doing anything phallic with the bread.”
“Mmhm.”
“I’m just making a breakfast platter like any normal boy- person would after they spend the night.”
I raise an eyebrow. “Most of my hook-ups don’t make me breakfast. They sort of roll out of bed, take a shower, then say ‘was good man’ before stumbling outside for a coffee and a cig.”
It’s his turn to raise an eyebrow. “You have bad taste.”
I chortle. “Is that so?”
“Yeah seriously. Your bed is so comfy, I didn’t want to get out of it. If they can’t appreciate it, fuck em.”
I smile harder. I lean against the counter.
“…What?” Callum asks, self conscious. 
“Nothing,” I say.
“I’m surprised you aren’t panicking,” Callum admits.
“Why would I panic?”
“Well, you said last night that you don’t normally date bears. You normally date skinny trendy twinks with tattoos, not guys with giant muscles or nipple piercings. I thought you’d wake up totally turned off, thinking you’d make a mistake now that you were sober.”
My eyes flicker to the nipple piercing. I got well acquainted with it last night. “Well…Callum, you know the story of Goldilocks and the three bears right?”

Callum stops slicing bread. “Are you going to tell me you’re going to sleep with two more bears before making a decision how you feel? One big, one small, one just right?”
I choke on my coffee while I laugh. “Oh god I need a napkin.”
Callum passes me a paper towel. 
“Jesus, no, but that was funny.”
He smiles and digs through my fridge for some cheese. “Thank you. Go on.”
“What I meant was – you know, in the story, Goldilocks comes back to her house- …you know, why did a little girl have a house of her own in the middle of the woods? She was like 10. How did she survive?”
Callum chuckles. “No, silly, in the story, she’s walking through the woods and comes upon a house and goes inside of it.”
“So she’s breaking and entering?” I say, acting more incredulous than I should. “What kind of parents did she have?”
Callum’s shoulders are rolling from laughter he’s trying to tamp down. “Babe – this is not Law & Goldilocks: Criminal Intent here. It’s a fable. The moral is about the bears.”
“But with B&Es.”
“Xavier. No. That’s not what it’s about. What was your point to this again?”
I pause. “Uh….ok wait. I remember.”
“Mhm?”
“What I was going to say was – you know, it’s like opening the door and finding a bear in there, and she’s initially quite scared. But when she gets to know the bear, she finds that it’s not quite as scary as she thought.”
Callum looks pleased. “Well that’s sweet and all Xavier, but…that’s not like the Goldilocks story at all. That’s more like Little Red Riding Hood. She opens the door and finds the wolf there.”
“You’re not a wolf,” I point out.
“Point taken.”
”Are you a werewolf?”
”No.”
“So it’s more like if we combine Goldilocks and Little Red?” I ask.
Callum thinks. “If it were set in the Castro district maybe.”

That makes me laugh again. “Goldilocks and little Red run off into the woods to have a lesbian relationship together?”
Callum tapped the cheese knife on the cutting board. “I kind of picture Goldilocks as a drag queen.”

By this point I realize my coffee is going cold because I’m not drinking it due to how funny Callum is.
“Alright, alright, this is getting way off topic.”
Callum tilts his head. “What was the topic?”
“The topic was, well, really…I took a chance with you last night. I’m glad I did. It was new, and well, fun. Hot. Sexy. God, you have such a big dick too.”
Callum fumbles over the cutting board. “Oh SHIT! Oh shit, I slipped.”
My stomach drops. “Oh shit man. You’re bleeding. Shit I’m so sorry.”
“Don’t make dick jokes when a man is cutting the cheese!”
I grab paper towels. “…wait did you just say ‘cutting the cheese’?”
Callum looks at me and we both bust out laughing. We may be adults, but fart jokes are never not funny.
“Ok ok, stop, I’m seriously bleeding over here!”
“Oh stop being such a baby. I’ll get the butterfly bandages. You’ll be fine.”
Callum giggles. “You’re going to have to cut the cheese now you know.”
“Oh my god stop Callum or I’m never going to finish my coffee.”
“Go get the first aid kit or I’ll bleed in it.”
I stick my tongue out.
“Stop that, or I’ll want to kiss you.”
“Kiss me after I make you all better.”
“I’ll take you up on that!” Callum looks at his swaddled finger. “Shit. What a morning.”
As I jog off to get the first aid supplies, I still can’t stop myself from smiling. A man is bleeding in my kitchen and I’m still in a great mood.. Maybe opening the door and finding a bear in my life was the best thing that could have happened to me last night.

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Text is fictional.