I didn't think so. Her first instinct had been the right one, I thought. If Paul Simmons mysteriously vanished, then all eyes would turn to Southwind. Things people were just starting to accept because we were decent people would have become excuses to run us out of town. And while one problem would vanish, another would spring up to take its place. That was how small towns worked.
But when the conversation spun back on itself again, I decided to refill my drink. I had nothing to contribute. I wasn't some political mastermind to figure out how to sway an election. I didn't have the financial power to make people like me. I wanted to be a part of this, but my only contribution was the simple fact that I knew these people. Sadly, that wasn't making Violet feel better.
When I reached the drink fountain, I spotted someone on the far side of the room. Mike sat in the corner with Maisie. They were sharing a basket of something, and leaning in just a bit too much. I pushed my drink under the Coke dispenser, trying not to stare, but Mike saw me. He lifted a hand in greeting.
I returned the gesture, then tipped my head at Maisie. Mike just ducked his head and laughed, then gestured me over. So, once my cup was full, I headed that way. Unfortunately, I didn't make it.
"Hey, faggot."
I turned to find Nathan Ray, the same guy who'd given us hell the first time we came to the Grill as a group. "You didn't learn the last time?" I asked.
He shoved to his feet and stepped into my path. "Your little friend don't scare me," Nathan said.
"Mhm." I casually took a sip of my drink. "So, is this just your way of trying to catch my eye?"
But inside, my heart was beating faster. My balls were crawling up into my body. Not because I was worried about this man throwing a punch. It was saying that out loud. It was admitting that I was doing this.I am a bisexual man, I repeated in my mind, convincing myself that there was nothing to be ashamed of, but years of training said otherwise. Every instinct in my body begged me to deny it. Too bad I wasn't the kind of guy to back down.
"You touch me and I'll break your face, you fucking butt pirate."
"Not cool," someone else said, moving to my side.
I wanted to look over and see who, but Nathan's friends decided to join this. Jeremy and Cliff both hopped up and braced up, looking like they were ready to throw down. I felt like an idiot standing here holding a paper cup of soda while being threatened, but if this got Western, I was putting that right into Nathan's face.
Then someone moved to my other side. Mike stood up and moved in behind them. Finally, I had the chance to look over and saw some of the last people I would've expected. To my left was Clay Clarkson, the guy I'd thought was the best-looking boy in high school. On my other side was Dusty Ratcliff. Just behind him was Lance McDowell, another guy I'd grown up with.
Then there was Mike. "Hey, fuck-heads," he said. "You wanna mess with my best friend, then you're messing with me."
"And if you mess with Mike," Lance added, "then you mess with us."
"Nah," Clay drawled. "I'm here for Luke." Then he draped his arm over my shoulder and leaned in. "We've been having a secret love affair for years, you know. So, you got a problem with the gay, then you got a problem with me too."
"And me," Dusty said. "I'm just waiting for my turn."
"Faggots!" Jeremy grumbled.
Lance chuckled. "Yep, you've said that before. Ya do know that the ones who complain the loudest are the same ones that are begging for it when they think no one can see? C'mon, Jer, I'll pound that ass for you. All you gotta do is say please."
Then Clay stepped forward and started making kissy faces at Nathan. "Show me some love, honey buns. Oh, just c'mere and give me those sweet lips."
"Fuck off!" Nathan huffed, pushing Clay back. "Not letting you queers touch me."
Then he shoved past, and the guys moved to let him go. A split second later, his friends followed, leaving their half-eaten meals on the table behind them. Dusty just cackled like that had been the most fun he'd had in a while. My mind was spinning, but I wasn't about to question this. Nope. I was cool. Shocked, but cool with it.
"You good, Luke?" Mike asked.
"Starting to get used to that," I admitted. "You on a date, Mike?"
"Yup," he said, then jerked his chin at Clay. "Thanks, man."
Clay just clasped my shoulder, then removed his arm. "No offense or anything, Luke," he said, "but you're not my type." He laughed once, and turned to leave, but paused. "No, I just have to ask. Back in high school..."
"I had no idea," I assured him. "I was drunk at homecoming. Like, fucking ripped and thrilled we'd won the game."
"I thought you were trying to kiss me," Clay admitted.
I could only shrug. "Maybe? Shit, man. I didn't know that bi was an option. I knew I liked girls. I knew I wanted to be as cool as some of you. I thought that was it, until it wasn't."
"So, it's true?" Lance asked. "You're actually with that guy and not the billboard girl?"
