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“So, Kent, I was thinking, since you and Bun-bun are so close, we should probably get to know each other a little better. I’ve got a girlfriend who you’d just love. Maybe we could all go out on a double date sometime.”
I blinked at her. “I’m gay,” I said, not caring if Gray had kept that little piece of me hidden from her. I’d made a promise to myself twenty years before that I would never lie about my sexuality. Not to anyone. Definitely not to Sarah Thistle.
“Oh, I know,” she said, surprising me. “I just thought you might be ready to find someone that could help get you back on track,too.”
My mouth hung open.
Gray’s eyes bulged.
Sarah scarfed downmydinner without looking up at me. “Her name’s Carrie. At first, she wasn’t really sold on the idea, but it’s like I told her, God’s plan is God’s plan. Who are we to question it?” She glanced up and smiled at Gray. “We all have our crosses to bear, but as long as we get there in the end, that’s all that matters. Right, Bun-bun?” Turning to me, she seemed taken aback by the shock on my face. Her eyes widened, and she quickly turned her attention back to the meal she’d inadvertently stolen from me.
“That’s not how it works,” I said. “You can’t just change your sexuality. There’s nopraying the gay away.That’s not a real thing.”
Her eyes darted toward Gray, her eyebrows scrunching together in the middle. “But—”
“Sarah,” Gray said, shaking his head. She cocked her head to the side, and it seemed like a million thoughts were running through her head. Normally, I might have questioned her about it, but having your existence invalidated doesn’t exactly leave you wanting to make conversation.
“But you said we …” She winced as her voice trailed off. There was a story in there, one that I had no desire to hear.
When I looked up at him, his face seemed lifeless. Like someone sucked all the air out of the room, and he was frozen in time with a look of heartbreak drawn across his face.
I stood up and clocked in early, just needing to get the hell out of that room. Before I shut the door, I turned back to Gray and forced a smile. He gave me a half-hearted wave before I turned and walked into the stockroom.
Later that night, about an hour before closing, I was stocking canned goods when Gray’s voice came over the intercom, calling me to his office. When I walked up the six steps into his workspace, he was beaming ear to ear. A Tupperware container sat on his desk. He had constructed a ridiculous drapery system over the twelve-inch by twelve-inch square plexiglass window by taping up two sales papers showing that week’s specials. He stood and pulled a chair out for me, ever the gentleman.
“I just wanted to make it up to you. For earlier.”
“You don’t have to make anything up to me. You had lunch with Sarah. It’s not a crime to have lunch with your …” I swallowed. “With your girlfriend.” The word felt like poison on my tongue.
“If looks could kill.” He pulled the lid off of the container and cringed. The meal was a pitiful sight. “Sorry. It’s just you and me here tonight. I was left at the mercy of the frozen food section.” In the container, there was a burger patty with two splotches of ketchup for the eyes, a pickle for the nose, and a straight line of celery for its mouth. “I know it’s not a smile, but the straight-mouthed emoji is your favorite.”
“It is?”
“You use it all the time.”
I nodded. “In response to you. Maybe instead of giving me ridiculous celery burgers, you should reexamine the textual choices that lead you to receiving it so often.”
“I don’t know. I think our text life is pretty healthy.”
I cut into the burger, stabbing it with my fork, and sawing at it with a plastic butter knife. The knife snapped mid-stroke. I shot Gray the most threatening death glare I could manage. Gray just stared at me like I was a psychopath. Leaning into my newfound role of attempted murderer of burgers and ex-gay ex-boyfriends, I held it in front of his mouth.
“Bite.”
“I’m not hungry, Kent.”
“Who says you haven’t added poison to it?” Truth be told, I just wanted him to take a bite so I could make a joke about him chowing down on my meat, but the sliding doors opened below us, ruining the moment.
“Dang,” he muttered under his breath. He reached over, aiming for my knee, but as I rolled the chair away, his hand landed on my inner thigh. He patted me twice and stood up. “I’ll be right back, okay?” He made his way down the small flight of stairs and I almost broke my neck trying to sneak a peek.
“Little bro.”
A chill ran down my spine.
The voice was evil incarnate. Tiny little daggers marinated in a slow, southern drawl that pierced at my emotional well-being. “Just you working tonight, or is the fat chick with the beehive here?” I glanced up at the cameras. The man on the screen had no right to judge anyone on their weight. The man on the screen had no right to lead a congregation. No right even existing, as far as I was concerned.
Trevor Collins.
“She’s off tonight. It’s just me. I wish you wouldn’t talk about her like that. She’s a good person.”
