“I told you I’m always up early.”
“You’re a psychopath.”
I snort. “Or I just enjoy going to bed early.”
“Please stop talking,” Luke groans, curling up against the window with his eyes closed.
I grin as I pull out of his driveway.
The radio remains silent on the drive in, and for all I know, Luke might truly fall back to sleep with how quiet he gets. Even though the sun’s up and the sky is bright blue, it doesn’t seem to affect him. But as soon as we pull into the parking lot and I kill the engine, he sits up and stretches out his back with a groan, wincing slightly. His face twitches as if he feels a sharp pain, and he reaches around to massage his side. It reminds me of the way he grimaced yesterday when I picked him up from McDonald’s. At the time, I assumed it was from being out in the heat, but now, I can’t help but wonder if it’s something else.
“Are you okay?” I frown, studying Luke closely.
His glance shifts to me before he turns away, avoiding my gaze. “I just slept wrong, I think,” he says dismissively.
Something in his response seems off, and I don’t entirely believe him. But I don’t feel right pushing the subject, either. We’re still in that sort of weird space between friends and acquaintances, and I’m not sure we’ve reached the point where pressing boundaries is allowed.
Luke rubs his hands over his face with a heavy groan. “God, I don’t want to do this today.”
“Me neither,” I sigh. “I want to go back to bed and start the day over. I’m sorry I made you late, by the way. It wasn’t my morning.”
“I don’t care.” He shrugs. “Let ‘em fire me.”
“That’s the spirit.”
Luke smirks. “Time for another glorious day in hell.”
We get out and walk into the building together, our mutual desire to not face the day hanging over us like a heavy storm cloud.
We’re only about twenty minutes late, but everyone else has already started working, so our entrance isn’t exactly subtle. It becomes a point of serious interest for a few people, their eyes tracking us intently as we head through the shop. It’s unnerving, giving me the feeling that they know something’s about to happen that we don’t. I mean, some of the guys have completely stopped working and are outrightstaringat us.
At first, I look down at my clothes, wondering if I somehow forgot to put my pants on. Did I miss a spot of coffee somewhere? Maybe my hair is sticking up funny. Except, everything seems to be in order… So, what the fuck is so interesting?
Glancing around the shop with confusion, I catch Luke’s eye and see that he looks just as confused before he suddenly goes rigid, and his eyes widen with some new understanding. Then he snaps his head away, and his cheeks flush crimson.
What? What just happened? What am I missing here?
Eventually, my brain catches up when I catch a look of disgust on one of the guys' faces as Luke and I pass—a full-ongrimace. Then, it suddenly makes sense. Here, I thought this was simply some stupid, trivial thing, but the truth about what’s happening is much more sinister.
They’re concerned about why Luke and I showed up latetogether. As if the only possible explanation is something shocking.
I knew most of these guys were bigots before this moment. I’ve witnessed some of the worst shop talk of my life behind these walls, things the faint of heart couldn’t easily stomach. It was always depressing to hear it, but then I’ve been aware thatmost of this town was unwelcoming of anything ‘different’ for a long time, so it wasn’t shocking. I’m used to it. I’ve just never experienced it directedtowardme before now. And all I’ve done is walk into a building with another man who happens to be gay.
Groaning, I roll my eyes and pinch the bridge of my nose irritably. I’ve never agreed with Luke’s decision to leave this place more than right now, and I continue to wonder about his reasons for coming back, whatever they may be. This amount of vitriol and disrespect would do horrible things to a person if exposed to it for too long.
When I look back at Luke, I’m shocked to see he’s uncharacteristically upset. He’s got a furrowed brow, his eyes locked on the ground, and his skin is flushed down to his neck, a stark contrast against his pale skin. Despite towering over everyone in this building, he seems so small.
His eyes flick to mine very briefly, and in that small action, I can tell he feels personally responsible for this, like he’s tarnishing my name and reputation by associating with me. There’s a mix of guilt and shame in his expression, and he looks like all he wants to do is push me away and crawl deeper inside himself, as if that would savemefrom this onslaught.
Seeing that ignites a fire in me I’ve never felt before, something protective and fierce, and a rage tinged with unbearable sadness burns in my soul. The injustice infuriates me. Luke’s done nothingwrong, and the fact that he wants to shoulder the entire burden of this nonsense is insane.
There’s not much I can do to stop the gossip if it’s going to go around, but that doesn’t bother me. Let these assholes think what they want. IneedLuke to see that I’m okay, so I’ll know that he’ll be okay. I’m just not sure how to do that without making things worse.
One of our closest benchmates, Nate Pollack, is staring at us with open shock, and I flash back a warning look.
“What’s wrong with your face, Nate?” I snap, taking him by surprise. “I know I’m hot as hell, but you’re gonna catch flies with your mouth hanging open like that.”
Nate’s jaw snaps shut with an audible click, and he looks away without saying anything, but I can hear some of the quiet chuckles of the other guys who were close enough to have heard me. I sweep my glare across the shop until I’m satisfied my warning is taken as people avoid my eye, afraid of being next on my shit list.
