Chapter Twelve #2
He’d gotten used to spending the workdays with Trenton.
He helped out with some things, like stacking the shelves and making tea for customers.
Mrs. Parson was very particular that the customers be served something.
It was why she usually had a plate of cookies by the register that customers were free to enjoy.
Tea and shelf stacking aside, there was still plenty of downtime.
Aside from some regulars, the shop didn’t get that much traffic, even on the weekends, so usually Trenton set him up at the table with his books and assigned him math and physics problems he'd check over for him between customers. That part sucked a little, but it was only ever for an hour or two. They’d read aloud to each other while they worked.
At first, they’d only done it when there was no one else in the shop, but the customers seemed to like it.
He’d read shorter passages like poems or essays, things people could listen to on a brief visit.
Though sometimes they sat down to listen, and there was talk of maybe establishing a reading circle.
Hilary had a lot of plans like that. Too many, Mrs. Parson said, for a dinky little shop like hers.
“But you can make one,” she said. “When you leave this place and find somewhere better, with more customers and readers. And I’d come visit and brag to people about the nice shop my grandchildren were running. ”
“You could stop by for lunch,” Trenton suggested to him, pulling Hilary from his thoughts.
“Or just stay for the first few hours. It doesn’t need to be the whole time.
Or you could come with me for one day and take a break the next.
It’s not meant to be a punishment, and I’m sure there are lots of things you’d like to do instead of math problems and dusting shelves. ”
It was a sign of just how much of a sap he’d become, or maybe a general lack of creative thinking, but there really didn’t seem like many things better than spending the day in the shop with Trenton.
There was one good facet of the plan, though.
Because if Trenton went alone, he’d have time to shop for the present after all.
That was how he came to dropping Trenton off at work, trying not to look sneaky in the process. A pointless endeavor.
“I didn’t realize secrets made you so handsome,” Trenton said, ducking through the window to kiss him goodbye. “Where are you off to?”
“To cheat on you, probably.”
Trenton pressed the pad of his thumb over his mouth. “You can have sex, just don’t kiss them. This is mine.”
“Who says we’re going to fuck? I just meant we’d read some poetry together.”
Trenton was outraged. “Absolutely not. I’ll take you to court.”
“Just try it. I’m keeping the puppy.”
“I thought I was your puppy?”
“Guess my cheating is more elaborate than I thought.”
Trenton laughed and gave him one final kiss. “Have fun.”
But it wasn’t fun. It was frustrating. He drove all the way to the city, determined to find some nice shops instead of the mass-produced garbage at the local mall.
But nothing seemed right, and everything decent was far too expensive.
Even the cost of flowers was prohibitive.
He found a nice sweater. A beautiful cable knit in emerald green that would look nice with Trenton’s coloring.
It was cashmere, which Hilary knew was nice, and probably why it was so damn expensive.
But Trenton deserved it. It had Hilary realizing he wanted a job too.
A real one that would let him buy Trenton nice things all the time.
He pressed the sweater to his cheek in the spot his face would rest when Trenton hugged him.
It was wonderfully soft. But he didn’t know about the size.
Trenton was usually a large or an extra-large depending on the company, but this boutique didn’t carry an extra-large, and the large looked more like a medium.
He didn’t know what to do. “Can I order this in a bigger size?” he asked the woman in the shop.
She’d been watching him like a hawk since the moment he’d stepped inside, as if poverty had a stench or something.
“I could pay more for express shipping.”
“I’m sure that would fit you, dear.”
“It’s not for me. It’s for my—” he paused. What should have come next was friend, but what came out instead was, “partner.”
It made him flush a little. Embarrassment or guilt, he wasn’t sure.
He’d have to ask Trenton what word to use.
He didn’t mind being a friend, not according to Trenton’s definition of the word, a position that seemed to stand above even God.
But others didn’t have that same interpretation, so with them the title felt lacking, somehow.
“That’s the biggest size we carry,” the woman said. “Though sometimes people buy something smaller as a motivation to lose weight.”
Hilary couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “I don’t want him to lose weight.”
Maybe it came out too sharp though, because the woman became defensive. “Then you shouldn’t be shopping in this store. Try Walmart. They sell things for that kind of person.”
Hilary threw down the sweater, so angry he could spit. “You are such a—” His mother would kill him if he used bitch. “Fucking asshole.”
“I’ll call security,” she warned him.
“Don’t bother. I wouldn’t shop here if it was the last shithole on earth.”
He didn’t mean to take it out on the Shitheap, but by the time he slammed the door it was too late. It jammed, with no way to open. Maybe Trenton could manage it. Until then he’d have to crawl over the hump and go in and out through the passenger door.
He started to cry.
It was so stupid, and really, it wasn’t worth it.
What did he care what some random woman thought?
She was a shithead. Her opinion didn’t matter.
But it bothered him. She didn’t even know Trenton.
None of them did. But they still used all those stupid names.
And he knew he was no exception. After all, the first time he’d noticed Trenton, it was as the Whale.
He might even have called him that to his initial group of shitty friends.
He didn’t think he had, but he couldn’t remember well enough to say for sure.
And he hated that. He hated how shitty that made him, and hated worse that people wouldn’t see it.
They’d say he was out of Trenton’s league even when it was the opposite.
He was trying for Trenton. Trying to become a better person.
A braver person. But what if this was all he was, just this little weenie crying in his car, unable to properly stick up for his friend?
He left without a present. He still had time to keep shopping, but his head wasn’t in the right place to do it. If he bought something, it would be just to buy it, and that wasn’t what he wanted.