“It could be worse,” he said. He looked out at the sea of Browerton merchandise in the school store. Rows of racks of sweatshirts and T-shirts and mugs. The Browerton logo staring at him like a well-trained army.
Lauren checked the time on the screen. “Oh man, I haven’t even gone over returns with you!”
“I can take a later break.”
“It’s okay.” She took a breath. “You know what? I think this is a good stopping point. Go take your lunch. We’ll pick it up again in a half-hour. Sound good?”
Coop nodded. He could tell right away that Lauren would be a cool boss. Maybe uptight and overly nervous, but he pictured them having a heart-to-heart after a busy shift or during a late night stocking new inventory.
His new place of employment sat in a corner of the first floor of the student union, next to the more popular coffee cart. Lauren said that business would be picking up, since warmer weather brings more prospective students for the tour, and they all want a Browerton memento as good luck.
Coop walked down one flight of stairs to the restaurants and common sitting area. He did a round to see what the cheapest thing on the menu would be for each eatery, and if it was at all appetizing. He decided on a cup of soup, which was still three dollars. His new gig paid far less per hour than being the G-rated gigolo, so he would have to economize. What he lacked in money, he made up for in piece of mind. He could be himself behind the register of the student store, which to his customers, would just be a guy ringing them up.
He chose one of cushy chairs with attached table that swung out. It was late morning, and the union rested before the onslaught of the lunchtime crowd. He pulled out his phone and flicked through old pictures. He couldn’t bear deleting the ones of him and Matty. Not yet. He supposed he liked the hurt. In a way, he hoped that Matty was still angry at him. They could stay connected through their pain. It had been two weeks since he heard Matty’s voice or smelled his skin or looked into those eyes. In time, this would get easier.
Someone tapped him on the head. Not the shoulder, which meant it could only be Rafe.
“I wanted to see how your first day was going, and what your employee discount was.”
“Good to see you, too.” Coop pretended like he didn’t mean it, but he was always jazzed about hanging out with his friend.
Rafe laid claim to the identical chair across from him. “Whenever I come here, these chairs are always taken.” He swiveled back and forth. The chairs didn’t spin all the way around, just in very wide semicircles.
“Job is going well. And I haven’t asked about the discount.”
“Don’t hesitate. Just in case they fire you, you want to get something out of it.” Rafe slumped into the seat until his body was parallel to the floor. “I’m proud of you for going straight.”
Coop shot him a confused look.
“You know what I mean. A normal job.”
Coop shrugged. It was a new concept to him.
“Maybe Matty would appreciate it,” Rafe suggested.
“I don’t think it would make a difference.”
“You haven’t spoken to him?”
“I need to stay away. I got the hint. I fucked with him.” Coop hated that that was the truth. Rafe brushed it aside.
“No, you didn’t! I saw how you were with him. You were in l-o-v-e.”
Coop didn’t say anything back. It didn’t matter now. He crumpled up his soup cup. “What about you? Any guy bow tie-worthy?”
“Nope. I threw the bow tie out.”
“You did?” That hit Coop’s gut more than it should have.
“I’m wising up. Rejecting them before they can reject me. That’s the smart way to play it.”
Coop leaned forward and grabbed Rafe’s knees, jolting his friend to sit the hell up. He stared into his eyes with an intensity that they didn’t venture into often. “Don’t do that. Don’t live that way. I played that game for far too long, and believe me, there are no winners.”
“I’m tired of feeling this way.”
“No, you’re not. You love it. It feeds you.”
Rafe cocked an eyebrow at him, but Coop pushed on.
