The night is warm. Wait, scratch that, not warm. It’s oppressively hot, even more so than inside Halo. No breeze, and the sky is overcast. I walk the few feet to the sidewalk bench and light up.
I don’t notice Seth has followed me until he drops down on the bench beside me with a sigh.
“Goddammit, man.” I almost choke on the smoke in my lungs. “Scared the bejesus out of me.”
I offer him a smoke, and he takes it, borrows my lighter and lights up.
“So what’s up?” I run a hand over my short hair. “I see you also made your escape from her clutches.”
He keeps the cigarette between his fingers but doesn’t draw on it, just stares into the distance.
Huh. “Everything okay?”
“Cassie’s a nice girl,” he says.
O-kay. “Sure she is. I never said—”
“Fuck. Forget it.” He takes a pull from the cigarette, lets the smoke out. “Who the hell cares anyway what she’s like?”
I frown at my hands hanging between my knees, the embers at the tip of my smoke glowing. “You, obviously.”
Duh.
It’s his turn to choke on smoke. “Screw you, J.”
I snort and wipe sweat from my eyes. “Get in line, buddy.”
Finally I get a laugh out of him, and I lean back, the tension leeching out of my shoulders. “Well, you’re a manslut, J. Why are you surprised girls assume you’re game for anything fun?”
Ouch. I don’t know why it smarts to hear Seth of all people say this to me. It’s not the first time I’ve been called a whore—God, not the first time at all—but mostly it’s from people who mean nothing to me, not one of my friends. Not the guy about whose health I worry and whose chores I did this morning.
“Fuck you, too,” I mutter, throwing the stub of my cigarette to the ground and rummaging in my pocket for the pack. “You know nothing about me.”
He shakes his head and smirks. “I know enough.”
Yeah. Damn. “Bullshit.”
“I know you hate cleaning the shop. You love hotdogs and burgers, all that’s greasy. You have no clue how to deal with money, or the fact you got a steady income and a roof over your head.”
“Yeah, cut out the love talk now. One might think we’re dating or something.”
“Hard not to notice stuff.”
“And your point is?”
“You need to realize it’s true, J.”
“What’s true?”
&
nbsp; “All of it. The roof, the money, the permanence of it. You’re off the streets.”
“And for how long? How can you think it will last, huh?” Dammit. I light my second cigarette and am horrified to find out my hands are trembling. “Fuck.”
“All I’m saying, man, is I’m right where you are. We gotta believe it and start living, you know?”
“No, I don’t know, so stop yakking. It was peaceful and quiet until you came out.”