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“You’re friends with Toby, right? Maybe he told you about me.”
Sol sat on one of the bales. “Yes, we’re friends, and no, he didn’t. And yeah, seeing you was a shock, although you seemed unfazed by my arrival.” That was more polite than the words he was striving not to utter.
You pretended not to know me, you bastard.
He was under no illusions. It wasn’t as if they’d been best buddies in high school. Sol hadn’t hung out with him too much—down that road lay danger. Keeping minimum safe distance was way safer. But they were in the same classes, they lived close by each other—not close enough that Sol had ever visited Butch’s home, but hey…
And a bunch of us made life hell for other kids, don’t forget that part.
Butch said nothing, but his face flushed.
Sol saw the light. “You knew I was coming. You had to have seen a list of guests, or something.”
Butch removed his hat and scraped his fingers through his hair. “Yeah, I knew. Saw the list a week ago.” Sol got a flash of a tattoo along his left forearm. It appeared to be Roman numerals. Then Butch lowered his arm.
“Why did you act like you didn’t know me?” Sol hadn’t expected that to hurt as much as it did.
“It was a shock for me too, okay? I haven’t been back home since I was eighteen, and you… You were the last person I expected to see.”
“Yeah, I think I got that part.”
Butch swallowed. “About last night… You didn’t tell them about…”
“I told them I’d done stuff I wasn’t proud of, all right? Stuff I tried to… atone for as I got older.”
The same stuff you’re anxious for me not to tell your boss.
Sol had an inkling what that might be.
Butch’s face grew tighter. “I’ve done my share of atonement these past few years. I just didn’t want you telling my boss anything that would put me in a bad light.”
Sol couldn’t miss the circles under his eyes, the tapping foot, the way he kept scrubbing his hand over his face… Whatever was going on inside him was plainly causing him pain, emotional or otherwise.
“Believe me. I didn’t say anything that would jeopardize your position here. I give you my word.” That was the truth. Sol wasn’t out to hurt him.
Butch’s shoulders sagged. “Okay.”
Sol couldn’t let it go there.
“But I think your fears are groundless. A lot happened after you left, stuff you may not be aware of—”
And just like that, Butch tensed, his back rigid, his neck corded.
“No. We’renotgonna talk about it, you hear me?”
“But—”
“No buts. I mean it. You start talking about home, high school, whatever, and I swear, I will pack my bags and take a vacation for the rest of this week. Until you’re gone.” His eyes blazed. “Do you hear me?”
It seemed Sol had touched a raw nerve.
“I hear you.” He had to do something. “How about we start again?”
Butch lost a little of his rigidity.
“I can live with that.” He looked Sol up and down. “You’re looking good.”
We’re going with compliments?From anger to admiration in one breath. The one-eighty made Sol’s head spin.
