Chapter 8 #3
“I’m… can I say that I’m happy to hear that?”
He really does look happy, almost grateful. “You’re allowed to be happy not being the only gay man in town.”
Owen crosses his arms. “I have so many questions, but I don’t want to be nosy. I mean, I want to, but I’m not gonna.”
Thank God for that. Any discussion about Will’s sexuality will end up touching the subject of Joel. He never talked about that with anyone who hadn’t been there to witness the shitshow, and he would like to keep it that way.
The waitress comes over with their drinks, and when she leaves, Owen raises his glass. “We have to toast to something. Can we toast to gay rights? No, scratch that—too gay. Hmm, I don’t know. You choose something.”
If he had known coming out to Owen would make him so scattered, he would have waited until the end of dinner. “We can drink to a nice evening away from Van Buren, and we can throw in your new job as well.”
“It’s hardly a job, but yeah, sounds good. Cheers.”
As he drinks his cold beer, he feels Owen watching him intently. He doesn’t mind, but maybe he should.
“Do people know about you?” Owen asks quietly.
“It’s safe to say that everyone in town knows about me.”
“Well, maybe this whole small-town-homophobia stereotype is an exaggeration.”
Will shakes his head, a bitter taste in his mouth.
Owen’s naivety is endearing yet potentially dangerous.
“These people have known me for thirty years. Those who are not outright hostile still keep their distance, despite being polite. Don’t assume being gay is not a big deal around here—it is.
I won’t tell you how to live your life, just please don’t confuse politeness with open-mindedness. ”
Owen’s shoulders slump as he watches the water.
He has a delicate profile and a long neck, but all Will can focus on is the sadness in his eyes.
I really know how to liven up a party. But he’s not going to apologize and try to downplay the truth.
If Owen wants to be safe, he needs to be careful and not trust easily.
“Your food, boys,” the waitress says.
At least the food brightens Owen’s mood. “That’s some serious burger,” he says and takes a big bite, dripping ketchup and pickles onto his plate. “Hmm, s’good!”
Will takes a bite as well, but he takes it carefully since he likes what’s between the buns to stay there.
After a few more bites, Owen narrows his eyes, looking thoughtful as if he remembered something.
“You okay?” Will asks.
Owen puts his burger down and wipes his mouth with a napkin. “I just remembered something.”
“What?”
He shakes his head. “Never mind. It’s dumb.”
“Yet you still seem bothered.”
Owen sighs. “When you and I first met, it felt like you were trying to keep your distance. Was it because of my aunt?”
Will isn’t sure how to respond without stepping in a minefield, and he can’t flat out call Sheryl an evil bitch in Owen’s face.
“Forget it,” Owen says. “She doesn’t like most people. I’m not even sure she likes me much.” His smile seems forced.
“We have a history. Out of respect to you, I’ll leave it at that.”
“I appreciate it, but you can call her a bitch if you want to. I think that’s her middle name.”
Will chuckles. “Finish your burger so we can go wet our feet.”
Owen glances at the water. “Is it cold?”
“Not too bad.”
They finish eating and walk to the water’s edge. Once they remove their shoes and socks, they sit down and slip their feet into the water.
“Not very cold,” Owen says. He’s sitting close to Will, their shoulders almost touching. Earlier today in the library, he kept his distance, but it seems that whatever bothered him no longer floats between them.
The song Jeremy by Pearl Jam is playing in the background. Will loves that band and how low Eddie Vedder’s voice can get. Without noticing, he starts to quietly sing along, only stopping when the song ends.
Owen turns to look at him. “You have a beautiful voice.”
Despite the cold around his feet, his face warms. “It’s all right.”
“No, it’s beautiful. Do you play an instrument?”
“Yeah, but I haven’t for a while.”
“Guitar, right?”
“How did you know?”
Owen shrugs and moves his pale feet in the water. It seems like he’s slicing through the moon with his toes. “I can picture you playing guitar and singing in a dim nightclub. Sad songs, obviously.”
He wonders if Owen sees him as a sad person. He wouldn’t define himself as happy in any way, but he doesn’t like the thought of being viewed as sad. He will be sad once Julie passes, but that also means he could finally leave Van Buren for good, and the thought warms his heart.
He shakes his head, pushing the thought away. How sick must he be to wait for the day his sister passes away? He feels ill, the burger shifting in his stomach.
“Can I tell you a secret?” Owen’s voice is low and tense, pulling Will away from his gloominess.
“You can tell me.”
“It’s not something I’m proud of, but you were honest with me today.” He exhales. “I used to be a drug addict.”
That unexpected statement floats between them, and Will waits patiently for Owen to continue at his own pace.
“It started when I first gathered the courage to go out to parties, but it escalated quickly when I realized that was the only way for me to loosen up and talk to strangers. When it got too intense, I dropped out of school and lived on the streets for a while until I was arrested and went on trial for soliciting—which I wasn’t guilty of.
Luckily, my dad had some connections, and the judge ended up sending me to rehab and giving me two years of probation.
My parents exiled me here to stay away from trouble. ”
Will takes in Owen’s confession, thinking how easy it is to assume things about someone. He would never have imagined a guy so put-together as him could go through such a mess.
“Thank you for sharing that with me.”
Owen moves his feet in the water. “I’m better now, but when I think of where I should have been in life, I feel like a loser.”
“A loser would’ve gone back to doing drugs on the streets like others around here.”
Owen nods. “Yeah, true. But I had so many plans and things I wanted to achieve.”
Will can relate. He was never a big dreamer who wanted to conquer the world, but his modest dreams involved living somewhere else and being surrounded by people he could trust.
“I think that dreams sometimes have their own plans and timelines. Just because they didn’t happen when you wanted them to doesn’t mean they’re lost.”
Owen nods. “I like that. That’s a good way to look at things. And drugs have been a big problem in these parts, I’m told.”
“It’s been getting worse in the last couple of years. Van Buren has been mostly spared, but other towns are a mess.”
“Maybe I can help with that.”
Will frowns. “You?”
Owen shakes his head. “Didn’t mean it like that. Hmm, do they have good desserts here?”
“Are you a chocolate guy?”
“I’m the chocolate guy.”
“Then they have good desserts.”
They return to their table and order the chocolate lava cake, which Will only tried once but couldn’t finish on his own. They keep the conversation light after the heaviness they shared earlier, talking about Will’s work and the changing seasons.
When the cake arrives, Owen rubs his hands in anticipation. He digs his spoon into the cake and scoops a big piece into his mouth. His sounds of pleasure are hilarious but also somewhat erotic, making Will wonder if this is how he sounds during… different circumstances.
“Eat,” Owen says. “We’ve earned this cake. Every calorie.”
Will takes a bite. The sugar overwhelms his taste buds, but they finish the cake easily, with Owen eating the bigger chunk.
“Should we head back?” Will asks. “I’m up early tomorrow.”
“Well, that depends.” Owen crosses his arms, looking serious. “Was this a one-time thing?”
Will is taken aback by the direct question, but he doesn’t need to think hard to find an answer.
“I would like for us to hang out again.” The words as friends dance at the tip of his tongue, but he fails to get them out, even though he knows they can be no more than that.
He does want to find someone someday, because loneliness—even though it can be addicting—is not how his heart is wired.
But having a partner in Van Buren is asking for trouble, and Owen doesn’t deserve that, especially if he came here to stay away from trouble.
Will orders the check and puts it on his card, even though Owen requests to split. It’s not a date, but Will’s mom raised him to be a gentleman.
They drive back with little conversation, and the songs on the radio are good enough to make their silence pleasant.
“You can drop me off at the square,” Owen says.
Will is about to say that he can drop him off at his house, but then he remembers whose house that is. The thought of Sheryl seeing them together after a night out is chilling.
“Okay,” he says as they enter town. It doesn’t take more than three minutes to reach the main square.
“So, was I good company?” Owen asks once they park.
“Of course you were.”
“Cool. Hmm, can I maybe have your number? I won’t prank call you.”
“Sure.” He takes out a piece of paper and a pen from the glove compartment and writes down his home number. Maybe one day he’ll get himself one of those cellular phones that cost a thousand bucks, but not any time soon.
Owen takes the note and slips it into his pocket. “I can give you my home number too, but… better not.”
Will nods. He can’t think of a possible reason for him to willingly risk a phone call with Sheryl.
Owen exits the car and leans with his hands on the open window. Even with so little light, he’s still beautiful. “I had the best night since I got here. Thank you, Will.”
“It was fun for me, too. Have a good night.”
He watches Owen walk away until he’s no longer visible. Alone in the quiet of his car, doubts rise to the surface. This wasn’t a date, but the little wings flapping in his stomach claim otherwise.
He’d be wise to clip those wings fast, because Owen doesn’t deserve that shitstorm.
He starts the car and begins to drive. For a second, he thinks there’s a police car on one of the streets leading to the square, but it must just be his imagination.