2. Samuel
SAMUEL
WHAT IF I HAD SAID NO?
My forehead, the hem of my shirt, my back, my underwear, even the backs of my knees: I was wet everywhere.
Worse, it had only taken me two hours to burn through all the energy I had.
The sunscreen Benji had brought, in addition to the hat, made my skin look paler than usual, and somehow made me sweat more.
How did they all survive in this heat, wearing long sleeves and jeans?
I leaned into the shade of the tree I was working on and took off the straw hat Benji had lent me.
I needed to air out my head. With the guys already a hundred feet ahead, it wasn’t like they’d notice if I took a short, unapproved break anyway.
I wiped my forehead with the back of my left hand and stared at the green-blackish harvesting bag slung across my chest. It was about a third full, already heavy enough that I’d need to empty it soon.
Not everything about being out here was bad, though. The fresh air, the sound of the birds chirping above, and the peace of being as good as alone: that was something I could get used to.
After Gordy showed me how to spot the ripe oranges and snip them carefully from the branches, Benji suggested—correctly, as I’d learned a few minutes later—that I should stick to the ground for now instead of climbing up a ladder with a bag over my shoulders that would inevitably get too heavy for my build.
So, Gordy and I ended up working the same row.
He took the tops of the trees, and I handled whatever I could reach from the ground.
They moved on quickly, chatting plenty, while I worked at my own pace.
I didn’t mind being left out. It wasn’t like I had much to add to their conversation about a GameTube arcade game I never even heard of anyway.
I looked up at the tree I was working on and, to my surprise, spotted a cluster of perfectly ripe oranges glowing like little suns that Gordy must’ve overlooked.
I could only imagine that missing perfectly good fruit wasn’t great for business.
But without a ladder of my own, I couldn’t just climb up there and grab them.
My head darted toward Gordy and Benji, working farther down the field, and after ten seconds of debating my options, I headed their way.
It took me roughly three minutes to catch up. When I got within thirty feet of them, their voices drifted through the trees, and what I heard made me freeze.
“Don’t you think that’s awkward?” Gordy asked. He, like Benji, had his back turned toward me, not noticing I was approaching. “I mean, you can’t say that it’s not weird that a guy his age has never had a girlfriend.”
“So?” Benji replied while he kept snipping oranges from the tree. “Some people start later than others.”
“That’s not how I meant that. It’s like... Samuel’s apparently never shown any interest in women.”
“I can’t follow.”
“Get what I’m saying!” Gordy grunted. “I heard that someone saw him staring at the men's section of the underwear catalog. And on the bus, he’s always staring at other dudes , even when Big-Tits-Susan is sitting two rows away.”
“Why are you talking like my grandpa?”
“Benji!”
“Man, I honestly don’t care,” Benji said. His hands paused for a second as he turned toward Gordy. “All I care about is that he does his job and doesn’t get in my way. And at least he listens. Not like those bozos, Jin and Brandon.”
“You’re not worried he might, I don’t know… look at you like that ?”
Benji let out a laugh like Gordy had told the most ridiculous joke in the world. “Yeah, I’m really not.”
“How can you be so chill about that? If what my dad said is true, we’ll be working with him for weeks. Brandon might not be coming back, and we need the help out here way more than in the store.”
“So what if he’s not into girls? It’s not like it’s a virus you can catch.”
Gordy muttered something into his non-existent beard. He ripped a handful of oranges off a branch and tossed them hard into his bag.
Benji watched him in disbelief, his mouth open. “Don’t tell me you’re afraid that he looks at you.”
“You don’t understand what I’m saying.”
”I do. I simply don’t get why you’re so obsessed with him.”
“I’m not obsessed with him. I just don’t understand how a guy can be, like, not into women at all.”
“Given how your girlfriend hunt’s been going, I figured you’d get it,” Benji smirked.
Gordy chucked an orange at Benji. “Ha-ha. Very funny.”
Masterfully, like I never could have, Benji caught it and placed it into his bag.
“Come on. It’s not that big of a deal. I doubt he has any interest in you. And if he did, you should take that as a compliment—especially since most of the girls you like told you to your face that they think you’re ugly.”
“Whoa, bro. You know that words can hurt.”
“Yeah. Now imagine if Sam had heard what you just said.”
My chest fluttered.
I stared at Benji’s back: the way his shoulder blades shifted with each movement, the easy confidence in his stance up on the ladder.
He was just some guy I hadn’t known a few hours ago, hardly knew now, but still.
He didn’t live up to the warnings Grace had given me about him earlier.
If he were so dangerous, he certainly wouldn’t stand up for me without even knowing me, especially not on a topic like that.
He didn’t flinch or speak about me like I was broken.
Just... normal. That shouldn’t have felt revolutionary, but it did.
But what was I supposed to do now? I couldn’t just barge in there and comment on what I had overheard.
I took a few steps back until I was roughly fifty feet away again. Raising my arm, I waved and called out, “Gordy?”
Both turned around. Gordy looked like a deer caught in headlights. Benji kept a straight face.
“Everything okay?” Benji called back, making my chest flutter again.
“There are some oranges left on top of a tree back there,” I shouted, pointing behind me. “I wanted to make sure they weren’t overlooked.”
The two of them exchanged a glance before Gordy climbed down his ladder. “I’m coming,” he said, clearly annoyed. He didn’t care about the missed fruit, only the quota.
Maybe I should’ve kept quiet, acted like I didn’t care. It would’ve saved me the sinking feeling that came with realizing that the rumors about me had spread farther than I thought. If they knew, chances were everyone else in this town did too.
Gordy walked past me, his eyes flicking toward mine, then away. “Come on. Let’s not slack off.”
I stole one last glance at Benji, who continued to pluck oranges at a speed that I could only ever dream of achieving, and to my surprise, his eyes met mine.
The corners of his mouth twitched slightly, not quite a smile, but close, as if he wanted to say he knew I’d heard them .
And maybe... that he didn’t mind. That being the gay kid wasn’t a reason to hate me.
That not everyone in this town had a problem with the real me.
The green tractor appeared twice as bulky driving between the trees as it did parked by the barn.
Behind the wheel sat a man in his forties, maybe early fifties, with sun-leathered skin and a thick black mustache streaked with gray.
One hand rested casually on the wheel, while the other lifted in a wave toward someone three rows over.
Right before he would plow over the big black rubber basket Gordy, Benji, and I had filled to the brim with oranges, he came to a halt.
With the flick of a joystick, he activated the crane on the back of the tractor.
As it swung into motion, Gordy and Benji wasted no time and headed past him toward the barn, signaling the end of our shift.
I lingered just long enough to watch the basket tip and empty into the tractor’s trunk before following silently.
Gordy and Benji had moved all day at a speed that left me struggling to keep up, but now, their pace had also slowed, their shoulders hunched under the ladders, and their breaths had gotten heavier. And for the first time today, none of us spoke as we trudged back through the orchard.
When we reached the barn, the rest of the team was already gathered, eyes fixed on Mr. Farley, who stood framed by the open double doors like this was his stage.
Grace stood at his side, her hands pressed to her hips, her gaze sweeping over the group.
Mr. Farley’s deep voice was met with a silence so respectful that it stopped Gordy, Benji, and me at the door, just in time to catch the end of his speech.
“Thank you for your hard work today. Get some rest.”
He gave a single nod, almost like a bow, and took a step back.
Like this was their cue, everyone jumped up, surging toward the backroom lined with lockers on the right.
I searched for Gordy and Benji, trying to find out if we were free to leave, too, but their eyes were locked on Mr. Farley, and when I glanced back at him, his hand was up, waving the three of us over.
“Mr. Putnam,” he said, fixing his eyes on Benji first. “I already told the others. I’ll be leaving tonight for the Cienega Valley Agricultural Summit, so Grace and Gordy will be your supervisors for the rest of the week.
” His gaze shifted toward his son. “And I want you both to know that I will find out if you misuse this for an opportunity to slack off.”
“No need to worry, sir,” Benji nodded, keeping his head low. “My job comes first.”
“I’ll take your word for it. You’re dismissed, Mr. Putnam.”
Benji nodded again, practiced, almost as if this exact conversation had happened before. His eyes wandered between Grace, Gordy, and me, not resting on one of us longer than the others. “See you tomorrow.”
“Bye,” Gordy and Grace said at the same time, both glaring at each other instantly like they hated having spoken in unison.
“And thank you for your help,” I added, drawing all the attention to me now. All four of them, even Mr. Farley, looked at me as if I’d said the most outrageous thing in the world.