THE BITTER END
CHARLIE
The Tool Shed is noticeably quieter than last Saturday night.
There’s still a steady flow of guys, but the dance floor isn’t pumping. Xander’s boycott seems to have hit us. To save money, Curtis tells Noah to go home early.
When I head out the back to ask Curtis if he wants us to start packing up, he’s in the loading dock, leaning into the window of Ahmed’s car, which is idling in the alley behind the bar.
‘… love you even when you’re a jerk, even when we fight,’ Ahmed is saying.
‘I’m sorry too, baby,’ I hear Curtis say. ‘I love you too. Get your things from Kayla and Tenille’s and I’ll see you at home.’
Ahmed blows him a kiss and drives off.
‘You guys made up, then?’ I ask.
Curtis shoves his hands in the pockets of his black leather pants, sighing heavily. ‘We did, Charlie,’ he says. ‘We never stay mad at each other too long.’
‘Happy for you,’ I say. ‘Hey, listen, if me staying with you guys isn’t a fit anymore …’
Curtis flaps his hand at me. ‘Don’t be silly, boy. I love having you with us. Ahmed does, too. He’s very fond of you. You make him laugh, and he likes having someone to fuss over. We never had kids, so it gives him a chance to dote on someone.’
‘But that thing he said, about taking in strays …’
‘He doesn’t mean it,’ Curtis says. ‘Trust me, if I booted all you boys out, he’d needle me about taking in new lodgers. Don’t give it another thought.’ He puts his arm around me.
‘Why do you do it?’ I ask. ‘If I had a nice house, I wouldn’t want anyone in it.’
Curtis nestles me under his arm. He’s wearing a skintight black polo and I can see his nipple through the fabric. My cheek is inches from it. I want to bite it.
‘I just want to protect you,’ he says, kissing the top of my head. ‘Every single one of you. I’ll never forget the men who took care of me when I was young and lost in the big city. I want to do the same. Take every bullet for you. Shield every one of you.’
Curtis kisses my head a second time and I let my mouth roam over to his nipple, sucking it briefly through the fabric. He doesn’t stop me.
‘I wish you could, too,’ I tell him. I want to sayI wish you knew how much it means that someone wants to save a nobody like me, but I can’t.
I look up at Curtis from his pectoral, and see his eyes are as teary as mine. He yanks me upwards in a strong, bone-crushing hug, until my mouth meets his, and he kisses me hard, with tongue, tears splashing on my cheek.
‘Sorry,’ he says, wiping his mouth. ‘That was a mistake. We shouldn’t kiss again, okay?’
‘I … didn’t start it.’
‘I know, I did,’ Curtis admits. ‘Not feeling so good tonight. I’m not perfect. Forgive me for it.’
‘It’s fine,’ I say. ‘You okay?’
‘No, I’m lousy,’ Curtis says, boulder shoulders sagging. ‘Real. Freakin’. Lousy. Watching people believe lies about who you are feels like getting stabbed in the freakin’ heart.’ He gestures to the front of the bar, where Vince is stacking empty stools. ‘If thisboycott is a blip, we’ll survive it. And if it’s not a blip, we’re gonna go under.’
‘You could back—’
‘No, I won’t back down,’ Curtis says. ‘I created something I believe in. If it doesn’t work, I failed. But I won’t be something I’m not, just because a narcissist holds a gun to my head. I never have. I never will.’
He presses the button to close the loading dock roller shutter and flicks the light off.
Curtis lets me off early, too, leaving him and Vince to close up.
I blast Rage Against the Machine on my drive home. The damage one dude can do while thinking he’s the hero is breathtaking. I practise arguments with Xander in my head. I envision myself giving him an end-of-romcom serve in public, then throwing him out of the bar and everyone stops and claps.
