Page 48 of See My Words

Rylan reached out to touch his shoulder, but before he could, Scott moved out of reach, shaking his head as if to clear it.

“So,” he said briskly, “back to the truck stop. When I was wanderin’ the parkin’ lot, I’d watch these girls approach the drivers, askin’ if they wanted a bit of ‘commercial company.’ Most times the guys would tell ’em to beat it, but a few times the girls would crawl in the cab of the truck with ’em and come back out with cash.”

Rylan nodded, but kept silent.

“I knew if I tried it that way, I’d get my fuckin’ teeth knocked in, so I had to be more subtle. These big truck stops, they have locker rooms and showers for the drivers to use, so I took my last few bucks and bought some tokens to go in.”

Scott walked back over to the window and rested his head against the glass again, his eyes distant. “I hung out for hours. Took lots of showers, walked around naked, displayin’ the goods. Eventually I caught this old fat guy checkin’ me out when he thought I wasn’t lookin’.” He gave a snort. “Man, that dude couldn’t take his eyes off my ass. So I followed him out to the parkin’ lot, and I let him fuck me in his truck in exchange for twenty dollars.”

Rylan knew that was coming, but still, hearing Scott say it aloud caused searing pain to knife through him, slicing him to ribbons. He blinked back tears. If only you’d called, Scott. If only you’d called.

Scott didn’t even look at him. “I did that over, and over, for days. Hung out in the shower room, pickin’ up guys who showed an interest. I was careful to only have sex with ’em in their trucks, but eventually the manager caught on to what I was doin’ and threatened to call the cops, have me arrested for prostitution.”

Rylan straightened up, wiping the tears away with the back of his hand. He was proud of how steady his voice was when he asked, “How did you get to Phoenix?”

“Long story short, the next guy I picked up, I waited till after I blew him, when he was all relaxed and shit, in a good mood, before I asked if he’d take me with him wherever he was goin’.” Scott lifted one shoulder in a shrug, his lips tight. “I ended up in Phoenix.”

“So how did you meet Corey?”

Scott gave a sort of toneless laugh. “Oh, fuck, that was so random.” His body language was stiff, forbidding, but Rylan was gratified when he came to sit on the end of the bed again. “Minh and I had this favorite homeless outreach place we liked to go to. It wasn’t Jesus-y, and they gave out free condoms, no questions, no lectures. Sometimes people who needed day laborers posted flyers, or came in looking for help. One day this guy came in, said he was lookin’ for sign spinners for a new nail spa opening up soon.”

“What’s a sign spinner?”

Scott looked at him. “You know, those guys who stand on street corners and spin advertising signs around trying to get people to come into a business? You ain’t never seen those?”

Rylan shook his head, mystified, and Scott huffed impatiently. “Whatever. The guy was willin’ to pay cash, so I said sure. My job was to stand on a street corner waving a big sign advertising the salon’s grand opening, and every morning the dude bought me a huge-ass Gatorade to drink, even gave me a cheap MP3 player so I could listen to music. He said people like it when the sign guy dances a little while he spins, and it draws more attention to the business.”

“How long did you do that?”

“Couple weeks. It kinda sucked. Got flipped off a lot, had stuff thrown at me from cars. But the guy paid me in cash every night, about thirty bucks for six hours’ worth of work. I didn’t have to suck dick for it, so I wasn’t gonna complain too hard.” He smirked. “Then one mornin’, I accidentally spilled Gatorade all over myself, so I just said ‘fuck it’ and took my shirt off to let it dry while I worked.”

“I can imagine that was quite a sight.”

“Yeah. I didn’t think nothin’ of it, but the owner of the salon suddenly came out to see what was goin’ on, said women were stoppin’ in to ask if it was gonna be the kind of place where hot shirtless guys did nails and hair. Kind of like the bikini haircut places you see geared toward men. It was a great idea, he said, and he was gonna redo his business model to make it like that.”

“Wow.”

“It’s now one of the most popular nail places on this side of town. I hear he’s plannin’ to open another one out by the college campus.” He gave an impatient shake of his head. “That’s not the point. The point is, Corey drove by one day and saw me dancin’ like an idiot on that street corner, shirtless, and he pulled into the parkin’ lot and hired me on the spot to do the same thing outside his brand-new gay bar. Wore a fuckin’ Speedo, and got so much business comin’ in he eventually put me on salary instead of hourly. At my suggestion, he brought Minh on as a cocktail server, and Minh hit it off with one of the house drag queens, who offered to be his drag mom. Before long Teena Teeze, and Fantasy Fridays, was born.” He shrugged. “The rest is history.”

“Oh, Scott, I’m so impressed by what you—” Rylan put his hand on Scott’s shoulder but yanked it back when Scott shot him a contemptuous sneer.

“Save it. Don’t fuckin’ patronize me, Rylan.” He stood up and grabbed a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt from his duffle, yanking them on. “I’m just a whore who cleans up well, that’s all. A Trashworth through and through.”

He stuffed his feet into his sneakers and strode for the door.

“Scott.”

Scott stopped but didn’t turn around, and Rylan said quietly, “When I look at you, I don’t see a whore. I see a survivor.”

Scott’s back was to him, but Rylan could see the way his shoulders bunched, his hands clenched into fists, before he disappeared without another word.

Rylan buried his face in his hands and let the tears fall.

Chapter Eight

RYLAN WOKE A FEW HOURS later to the gentle dipping of the bed beside him, and he rolled over eagerly. “Scott—” he began, disappointment sweeping through him when he saw Minh perched there instead.

Minh quirked his lips. “Oh, honey, if you could see your face,” he said in mock sorrow. “I’ve never felt so unwanted.”