Chapter 3
Chapter Three
“Hey, you.”
Tommy glanced up to find Carla Brunell standing by his table, tray in hand, laden with a bottle of water, an apple, a small container of pasta salad, and a tuna sandwich.
He gave her a brief smile. “Wondered where you’d got to.” He took a long drink of his own water.
Carla slid into the empty chair facing him and deposited her tray in front of her. She dropped her bag onto the floor and sagged as she broke the seal on her water bottle. “Is it just me, or was that organic chemistry class as boring as a cold pile of dog shit?”
Tommy nearly snorted water out of his nose.
“Warn a guy when you’re gonna say stuff like that, okay?
” His friendship with Carla had developed during their first year studying organic agriculture, not the most exciting of majors, but it was what his momma wanted.
Daddy would have been happier to have him work on the farm instead of going off to college, but no, Momma wanted him to have an education.
It had been her goal since he’d first started school.
“S’pose this’ll be useful when you’re growing peanuts an’ cotton back in ButtFuck County, Georgia?” Clara inquired, her face straight, her expression innocent. Only the twinkle in her eyes gave her away.
Tommy shook his head. “Well, that’s rich, coming from you, girl.
Eatonton, Putnam County, ain’t exactly a thrivin’ metropolis, now is it?
” He knew Carla’s family background was similar to his own.
Both of them had grown up in very rural locations.
Even so, his hometown of Americus had to be one of the smallest towns in Sumter County.
The nearest big town was Tifton, and getting home to see his folks was a good four-hour drive from school.
Carla snorted. “Never said it was, farm boy.” She peered at him.
“An’ I saw that test paper you got handed back just now.
You scored another A plus, didn’t ya?” She huffed.
“Ain’t right, I tell ya. You come off all sweetness, shy, polite as anything, but man, you’re a demon when it comes to studyin’.
” Her scowl would have been more convincing if it hadn’t been for the bright eyes and the twitching lips as she tried to hold back her smile.
Tommy gave her a mock glare and folded his muscled arms across his chest. “Are you sayin’ I look like I’m dumb or something?”
Inside he was chuckling. He knew his physical appearance led his classmates to make assumptions about him, same as with Carla.
Momma had always warned him about not judging a book by its cover.
Carla looked like a big-boned, rough-and-tumble cowgirl, affable and good natured, but talk about smarts.
She was one of the brightest students in the class.
The two of them had gravitated together early in their first semester, once they’d gotten over the rivalry bit, though that was more Carla than Tommy.
He liked their easygoing friendship. Tommy had noticed quite a few of the girls around campus often regarded him with interest, their eyes traveling over his body, and he usually steered clear of them.
Carla wasn’t like that, thank God. Besides, she already had a fella back home.
Carla snickered. She forked a couple of mouthfuls of pasta salad and glanced around at the crowds of students who filled the cafeteria with lively chatter and raucous laughter.
They always sat in the same corner. It was a good spot from which to people watch, relatively unobserved.
Tommy particularly liked watching the table where the more…
athletic students hung out. Yeah, muscles did it for him every time.
“So, what’s your type, farm boy?”
Tommy snapped back into the moment. “Excuse me?”
Carla leaned forward, half a tuna sandwich in her hand. “Do you like the jocks? Or maybe you prefer the more geeky type? I always had a thing for guys with glasses myself, but that might not be to your taste.” She took a bite out of her sandwich and sat back, her gaze fixed on him.
There was a heavy feeling in his belly. He stared at her, his hands growing icier by the second. “I… what…?” The words choked him.
Carla put down her sandwich, stood up, and took the empty seat next to his. She carried on looking out over the sea of students. “S’okay, Tommy, take a breath, all right?”
He rubbed his palms on his jeans, inhaling deeply, forcing himself to be calm.
Her shoulder nudged his. “For the record? I don’t give a shit either way, okay? It’s no skin off my nose if you’re gay. Don’t change nothin’ between us.” She spoke quietly.
Tommy sagged into his seat. “How d’you know?”
Carla giggled. “Oh, honey. Ain’t never seen you with a girlfriend all the time I’ve known you. ’Course, you might have a girl back home, but I’m thinkin’ no on that score. ’Cause I’m pretty sure if you had one, you’d have mentioned her afore now.”
“That don’t mean I’m gay,” Tommy protested weakly.
Carla leaned closer. “Fine, but honey, I have eyes. I see who you look at—or should I say who you don’t look at.”
He drew in several long breaths before trusting himself to speak.
“I didn’t think I’d been that obvious.” Tommy took a few swallows of water in an effort to regain his composure.
Only Ben knew he was gay, and he’d claimed that was due to him having excellent gaydar.
Oh, and of course him noticing Tommy’s distinct lack of interest in girls.
And then there was that whole business about Tommy eyeing up the captain of the wrestling team—and Ben catching him in the act.
Tommy hadn’t worked up the nerve to tell anyone else.
Carla patted his leg. “Aw, you weren’t. It’s just ’cause I know you.” She lowered her voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “Just tell me you don’t have a thing for that roommate of yours.”
This time he really did snort water out of his nose. He spluttered all over the tabletop, and Carla quickly grabbed a napkin and thrust it into his hand. She chuckled while he wiped his face and then the table.
“Well, that got a reaction.”
“Ben?” Tommy said incredulously. “Hell no. Just… no.”
Carla straightened her face. “I thought I’d mention it, seeing as he does bat for both teams, right? And you two are close?”
“Yeah, but damn, girl…. Ben? So not my type, and I am so not his.”
She shrugged. “Takes all sorts.” She dragged her tray across the table and picked up her sandwich. “I thought you stayin’ at his folks’ place on the weekends might’ve meant….”
Tommy shook his head. “His family doesn’t know he’s bi, for one thing.
But he’s trying to get me out more on weekends, and it’s easier staying with him and his family than driving back to Athens.
” It was getting to be a nice routine. They’d pack a bag Friday and head off to Ben’s family home in the Morningside area of Atlanta when classes were finished.
Friday night was usually dinner with Ben’s parents, Benson and Caroline, and his sister, Bethany, a high school senior.
Ben’s parents couldn’t be more different.
Ben took after his mom; both had bubbly personalities and loved being sociable.
His dad was more serious, a real man’s man.
And they were a whole world away from Tommy’s parents.
Carla looked at her phone. “I gotta go. I got a meeting of the Black Student Alliance.” She held the phone out for him to see. “You seen the time?”
Tommy sighed. Like she had to remind him.
He rose to his feet and collected the debris from his lunch, depositing it all on his tray.
“I’ll see you in class, okay?” Carla said nothing; her sympathetic expression was more than enough.
He left the cafeteria and walked through the campus to the quiet corner near the library where he went every Friday lunchtime.
When he reached the bench set back against the brick wall of the library, he sat down and got out his phone, staring at it in his hands for a moment.
He hated feeling like this. It hadn’t always been so, not when he’d first arrived at college.
Once a week, regular as clockwork, he’d call his momma, their conversations lasting fifteen to thirty minutes.
He’d looked forward to hearing the news from home, telling her how well he was doing in his studies… .
But not now.
Tommy knew his momma hadn’t changed. No, this was all about him, his own feelings of guilt.
Once he’d accepted he was gay, his momma’s customary litanies and questions took on new meaning.
He squirmed, his heart heavy, chest tight, every time she spoke of what the preacher had been talking about in church the previous Sunday.
It wasn’t that he no longer believed, not entirely.
He just felt the Lord might be having a problem loving him like his momma said he did.
Not if the pastor had it right, and all gays were going to hell for their sins…
. And then there was the time he chose to call her, every Friday lunchtime when he knew she’d be in the house.
That way the weekly duty was done, with less chance of her calling him over the weekend when he was out, maybe someplace he wouldn’t want his momma to find him.
No use puttin’ it off. With a sigh, Tommy hit speed dial.
“Hey, son. I’d got to thinkin’ you’d forgotten ’bout me.” There was a hint of humor in her voice.
“Aww, course not, Momma. How’s everything? How’s Daddy?” He got comfortable, knowing this could take a while.
“Your daddy’s just fine, ’ceptin’ he works too hard, o’ course. Not that he’s got much choice, seein’ as help is hard to come by right now.”
The words were like a knife to his heart. If I wasn’t at college, Daddy wouldn’t be strugglin’. He knew his momma would never say that, but it didn’t stop him thinking it.
“Did you go to church last Sunday?”