Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 80199 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 401(@200wpm)___ 321(@250wpm)___ 267(@300wpm)
“What? How…how do you figure?”
“Well, right now he’s trying hard not to stare at you, and it’s the same for you.”
“Oh God.” I put my face in my hands. No way did I want anyone else to notice stuff like that. “He’s…a friend.”
He winked. “Sure, whatever. Like I said, I’m here if you ever need to talk.”
After school I worked a shift with Pete. I helped less at the junkyard nowadays, but today it would be a good distraction. Besides, I liked the idea of hanging with Pete and getting a night off from babysitting duty.
I waved to Pete’s uncle, who was inside the office, his gaze cast outside the large picture window facing the junkyard. He was like a permanent fixture, always aware of everything going on. Well, almost everything. This lot was enormous, and every surface was covered with something that’d been salvaged. Mom jokingly referred to it as a gigantic flea market. At least to those who loved cars. He had even restored a twenty-year-old Buick that Pete drove around. It was an eyesore but got the job done. He promised to keep a lookout for me as well, but I wasn’t in any hurry to pay car insurance or gas. The bus suited me just fine.
“Okay, what are we doing today?” I asked Pete, who had just jumped off the loader. He’d been busy moving fenders into a pile. That was a lot of what this work entailed—grouping random shit into piles for the compactor or to sell as scrap.
He motioned to the far corner of the lot. “How about we start separating all the tires from the rims?”
“Will do.”
I slipped on gloves and got to work. It was exhausting, but it felt good to use my muscles for more than dance. Plus, it helped me focus on something other than Henry for a change.
Eventually Pete joined me, using a large magnet to pick up and group nuts and bolts on the ground while he told me about Jenny, whom he’d started seeing regularly. So much so that he hadn’t been around much lately. But I was happy for him.
“Oooh, someone’s in love,” I teased when he got this goofy grin on his face.
“Shut it, or I’ll point out you’re sucking face with Mr. Quarterback.”
I laughed. “What can I say? Making out with a hot guy is fun.” It felt good to talk about my secret encounters with Henry, especially since it was unlikely that Pete would ever meet him.
He grew serious. “Just make sure you’re protecting your heart.”
“Okay, Dad. Good talk.”
He snorted. “Someone’s gotta look out for my boy.”
We fist-bumped, then got back to work. After a few hours, I headed home, exhausted and dirty. I took a shower, then got out the leftovers Mom had made for dinner that night.
She was on the couch in her pajamas, watching one of her favorite reality shows, and Star was already in bed.
“What’s this?” I asked, moving a plastic bag off the kitchen chair so I could sit down and eat.
“A new birdfeeder. I know, I know, I have too many of them, but it was at the dollar store, and I just…”
“Mom, you don’t have to explain. You love nature. I mean, you named your kids after birds. You’re allowed to do things that make you happy.”
She sighed and stretched out her legs under the blanket. “Remember the garden at the old house?” she asked, referring to where we’d lived with my stepdad. “There was that lattice where I grew green beans, and I thought maybe this spring I could do something like that again.”
“I think that sounds awesome.”
After I finished eating, I watched some of Mom’s show with her before we both retired to bed. When I heard my cell buzz with a text, I had a feeling it was Henry. We had gotten into the habit of messaging at night.
I think Emil might suspect something about me.
So he had noticed the look between them that Emil described.
I think you might be right.
Fuck.
Don’t worry, he won’t say a word.
How do you know?
Because those of us in the LGBTQ+ community know not to out each other.
Are you saying…
He’s never tried to hide it, and neither have I.
Will I ever get there?
Sure, someday. On your own timeline.
I hope so. Then I’ll be free.
I could hear the longing in his words, and suddenly I wished he were there with me so I could draw him into my embrace and tell him everything was going to be okay.
Any plans this weekend? he texted, and the change in subject was a relief.
Not really. Mom’s gotta work Friday and Saturday, so I have to hang with my sister.
What does she like to do?
I grinned. It was cute of him to ask.
Really? You want to talk about my four-year-old sister’s hobbies? Maybe you should trade places with me and babysit her sometime. I added a wink emoji.