Chapter Thirty-Four #4
Luke stiffens beside me, and I glance back to see him staring blankly at the ground, almost dissociatively. He’s frozen like a statue, his face a mask of horror, but he’s got my hand in a vise grip.
“You’re disgusting, Ethan,” Chrissy spits. It sparks an immediate response of anger in me.
“I’m sorry. What exactly is offending you here?” I snap back, feeling my face flush with my rising irritation. “Is it the fact that I’m dating him or that I’m not interested in you?”
Suddenly, the glass of water in her hand is emptied of its contents as she hurls the liquid at me.
Water hits my face, drenching my hair and the front of my shirt, and the world stills.
It’s so sudden that I’m stunned speechless.
I spit out what got into my mouth, and after wiping a hand over my face, I turn my eyes back up to Chrissy to see that she looks slightly shocked, almost like she can’t believe she just did that. But she doesn’t look remorseful.
With a heavy sigh, I get up from the ground.
Chrissy takes an involuntary step back, clearly mistaking it as a sign of aggression, even though I haven’t moved any closer to her.
That must be what’s expected of me, though, because even Luke grips my hand tightly as if he thinks I’m about to do something I shouldn’t.
After all, I am nearly a foot taller than Chrissy and a man.
Violence is the statistically typical response, and the irony is laughable.
Luke’s face is pinched in misery, his cheeks flushed with humiliation, and he looks profoundly uncomfortable and tense.
My skin prickles with annoyance, and a flurry of emotion rears its head in my chest at the sight of his pain.
This whole situation is more fucked than I could have anticipated, and I can feel my blood boiling, my entire body pulsing in time.
When I turn back to look at Chrissy, the scowl on my face makes her flinch.
“Why did you even come out here?” I ask. “If you have such a problem with gay people, why bother bringing Luke water and napkins, acting like you’re trying to help?”
“I’m not heartless.” Chrissy scoffs.
“Clearly. You’re a paragon of sainthood.” I gesture to the front of my drenched shirt.
“I’m not the one living in sin.”
“In sin?” I laugh humorlessly. “Seriously? You honestly believe that fucked-up nonsense?”
“It’s unnatural. Homosexuality is a perversion,” she spits, reaching for the golden cross at her throat, almost like she’s warding herself against evil.
Only, I’ve never seen her face look so ugly.
Maybe I shouldn’t be so surprised, given how prevalently she’s displayed the faith symbol, but I'm shocked.
How did I miss this unforgiving nature beneath her bubbly, charming surface?
“If you genuinely believe that, then we don’t have anything left to discuss,” I say, the words sounding calmer than I feel.
“It’s wrong, Ethan,” she defends, her voice trembling slightly with her conviction.
“There is nothing wrong with what I’m doing, but I won’t waste my breath trying to convince you of that. It’s not my job to educate the willfully ignorant. But if I’d known you were this backward in your thinking, I absolutely would never have asked you out in the first place.”
Chrissy releases a startled gasp and puts her hand to her chest as if she’s been truly scandalized. “As if I could ever be interested in a fucking cocksucker like you.”
I flinch involuntarily at its sharpness.
This conversation isn’t going anywhere productive, and I’m hyper-aware of Luke trembling on the bench beside me. I sigh, looking out at the parking lot and the dark, empty country landscape beyond it, feeling a mix of rage and sadness swirling inside my chest.
Deep down, I knew this kind of reaction was inevitable in a town like this—I would have expected it from someone at work way before I could have imagined it coming from Chrissy, of all people—but I guess I had always hoped I wouldn’t live to see it firsthand.
Now that I have, I don’t exactly know how to feel about it. Angry? Hurt? Disappointed.
Ultimately, I must accept this as my reality. As shocking as it is, I can’t change it.
“Luke,” I say softly, squeezing his hand where it’s still firmly in mine. “Let's go.”
He looks up at me slowly, his expression numb, but he lets me help him off the bench.
I turn back to Chrissy as we move away, giving her one last somber look. “I truly hope you find someone who can love your ugly heart,” I say, and only then does her expression seem to crumble into something close to regret. But for what, I can’t exactly say. I don’t stick around to contemplate it.
As Luke and I head toward our trucks at the end of the lot, I send Marcus a quick text apologizing for dipping and ask him to pick up our tabs. I’m grateful he doesn’t question why.
Vaguely, I’m aware of the real possibility that Chrissy might go back in and share what she’s discovered with everyone, but for now, that’s the least of my concerns as I focus on getting Luke as far away from here as possible.