Fuck, these clothes might actually fit. And there are instant noodles and bread too, in case I don’t have a way to cook.
My hands are shaking as I put together my backpacking stove and light a match. I dump the last of my water bottle into my cooking pot, lightheaded at the idea of a hot pot of noodles. Earlier today I ate better than I have in weeks, but I didn’t want to draw attention to myself by taking more than my share, so I’m still starving.
By the time the water is boiling and I’ve dropped the noodles in, I’m fucking crying, and I can’t seem to stop. I had a good job, a decent house I was renting, and enough savings to take a month off every now and then to go hiking. I thought my future was secure.
Then, in one day, everything fell apart.
It’s been a fucking rough year. Honestly, I don’t know how I’m still alive. Every day is another struggle, another indignity, another necessity I’m going without.
And somehow I’ve reached the point where I’m crying over a fucking pot of instant noodles.
Chapter 10
Dex
Korren is quiet when I meet him before work the next morning. He takes my hand without protest, and I don’t know if I’m imagining that he’s holding it tighter than yesterday. I hope I haven’t fucked up by giving him things he didn’t want. I hope he doesn’t resent me right now.
Then I notice he’s wearing the clothes I got for him, so obviously he isn’t too pissed. They look good on him, too, and I congratulate myself for guessing his size so well.
We’re halfway to the station before he speaks, his voice low and rough. “Thank you.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “Hey. Don’t mention it.”
Korren laughs shakily. “You’re making it hard for me to hate you.”
“Who said anything about hating? I’m perfectly capable of amicably winning that cabin.”
His laugh is more genuine now, and I realize I didn’t see him smile the whole time we were at the station yesterday. I resolve to do what I can to change that.
“It’s a nice cabin,” Korren says. “I had a look at it the other day, and I’m already very attached to it. So you can forget about winning it.”
“What’s your next dare, then?” I ask before I think better of it. “I don’t see you making any effort to win.”
Korren gives me a sideways look. “Take me out for coffee tomorrow morning, since we’re off. If your reputation means nothing, then prove it and act like you’re obsessed with me the whole time.”
“Deal. I know you’re just hoping to score a free coffee from me.”
“Guilty.”
We both laugh.
My best friend Rowan waves to us again as we pass the bakery, which makes me start thinking about what the sight of two guys holding hands every day is going to mean for Copper Creek. I don’t think I’ve ever seen guys holding hands here before. In fact, I can’t think of a single gay guy in this whole town. There are plenty of girls like Cami who are into girls, so it’s not quite homophobia. No—it’s more like there’s such a culture of toughness here that admitting you were gay would be the same as admitting you were weak. Which doesn’t fully make sense to me, even though it rings true. There are probably some closeted guys who live their whole lives here without admitting it, and a few others who probably leave for that same reason.
“D’you think this is ethical, what we’re doing?” I ask Korren.
“What, holding hands?”
“Letting people think we’re gay.”
Korren’s hand twitches in mine. “Are you saying everyone’s going to hate us?”
“I hope not. But I was just thinking that I don’t know a single gay guy in this entire town. I don’t think people are homophobic here, exactly. It’s just not a thing. And as much as we tell people what we’re doing, there are going to be some who see us together all the time and won’t be talked out of their assumptions.”
“Then maybe you should back out of this, if you’re worried,” Korren says, with a shadow of a smile.
“Asshole. That’s not what I was trying to say.”
“You’re not homophobic, are you?”
