4. Benji #2
It was like he couldn’t see how much his presence pissed me off.
Or maybe he could, and he was playing dumb.
But what really hit me wasn’t him. It was her .
That polite, tight-lipped, oh no, my son’s been hanging around trash kind of look.
A look filled with disgust and concern that I might be a bad influence on her son.
“Hey,” I mumbled, even though I wasn’t eager to have a conversation with either of them.
I turned back to the box of Farmers’ O’s , scanning for the price tag.
Six bucks. Six. For a mere twenty ounces.
That was a whole dollar more than what I paid for the no-name brand.
I shook my head and shoved it back on the shelf.
“You finding everything all right?” I asked like I worked here.
“Funny thing,” Sam said, “I was actually looking for that exact cereal you just put back.”
Of course, he was. That was what rich people did—reach for the name-brand without even looking at the price.
Not wanting to give his mom the satisfaction of seeing me act like the angry goon she probably thought I was, I grabbed the box again and handed it to him. The corners of his mouth twitched up slightly when he took it and plopped it into the cart he was pushing in front of him.
“Thank you,” he said, all polite and clueless, like he thought I was actually being nice.
Man, I wanted to punch him. I had wanted to punch many people in my life, but never anyone so hard. I couldn’t even tell if he was doing it on purpose. Maybe he was mocking me, like so many had before him, or maybe he was just that stupidly oblivious. Either way, I bit my teeth together.
“Well—”
“How’s your mom doing?” Sam’s mom asked.
And everything in my brain screeched to a halt.
Fuck. Why did they have to know each other? And even worse, this woman knew exactly what was going on... I could see it all written over her face—that stiff little smile people get when they’re about to say something they think is kind.
Sam’s head twisted toward her, asking the very same question that was on my mind: “You know her?”
“From back when I was still volunteering at the library,” she replied. “But we lost touch when she had to quit.” Her gaze swung back on me. “I’m so sad we didn’t have the time to catch up lately.”
I stared. I’d never seen this woman in my life, but her words told me everything I needed to know.
She was one of those —one of the people my Mom considered a friend, until the diagnosis, until showing up started to feel uncomfortable, until they suddenly forgot to invite her, until they were too busy to call.
But sure, now that she bumped into me by accident, she suddenly cared again.
There were a million things I could’ve said to her, but none of them were worth the breath.
“Given her circumstances, she’s holding up pretty well,” I said, turning my attention to the shelves, searching for Dad’s cereal so I could get the hell out of there.
“What circumstances?” Sam asked, like it was any of his damn business.
I wasn’t in the mood to explain it, and luckily for me, I didn’t have to.
His mom put her hand on his shoulder, nudging him slightly. “She’s just not been feeling well, Samuel. That’s all.”
Down on the bottom shelf, I spotted the cereal I was looking for and crouched down.
“Well,” I said, standing back up, “I should get going.”
“Yeah, same. We can’t be late tonight,” Sam laughed. “We got tickets for the new Project Impossible. ” He winked at his mom, who gave him one of those fake little chuckles. “Hope your mom gets better soon.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, as I felt the need to reply.
Sam’s Mom still hadn’t stopped looking at me. “Please tell her, I send my love. And would you let her know that I’d love to catch up soon?”
“Will do,” I replied, knowing damn well I wouldn’t. We probably both knew it. I turned around and walked away, my heartbeat pounding so loudly that I could barely hear the stupid pop music echoing from the speakers overhead.
“See you tomorrow,” Sam called after me, but I didn’t answer.
I rounded the corner, forcing myself to breathe slowly and steadily, clinging to what little control I had left. I had to hold it together. For Mom. At least until I got home.
I rushed into the next aisle without looking at what was on the shelves. I needed distance, away from Sam, his Mom, and her polite little pity smile.
But even two aisles over, I could still hear them.
“You didn’t mention that it was him you were talking about,” she said, her voice sharp.
“And I didn’t know you were friends with his mom,” Sam replied.
“There’s a reason why we rarely talk anymore.”
“And Benji is that reason?”
“Look, I know it’s exciting for you to finally be on your own, but that doesn’t mean I’m going to stop looking out for you.”
“Why is everyone so afraid of him? I don’t get it. He’s been nothing but nice to me.”
I couldn’t listen anymore. I bolted—not giving a fuck where I ended up as long as it was far away from them—until I found myself surrounded by dog food and diapers, praying that they wouldn’t follow me back here.
My right eyelid twitched. My fists clenched. I wanted to break something. Needed to. That stupid, oblivious smile of his—I had to wipe it off his face. So he and his wealthy, traitorous parents finally understood what it felt like.
The trees towering above me made the narrow trail snaking through the grove seem darker than it should’ve been.
I’d watched the sunset only two minutes ago; there was no way it could’ve gotten this dim already.
The closer I got to the agreed-upon spot, the louder the crappy electronic dance music playing from someone's phone grew.
But another sound mixed in with it, twisting my stomach.
Giggles. From Gordy and... at least two women.
I sighed. Why couldn’t this dude ever ask if it was okay to invite other people?
Through the branches, the hidden lake came into view. If I believed my mom, it had been a secret meeting spot for the youth of Red Creek for decades. Officials had fenced off the grove a few years ago, but that never stopped anyone from coming here.
I shoved aside a branch blocking the path, setting my eyes on a flat rock at the shore, just big enough for a handful of people, and yep —what I’d feared turned out ot be true. Gordy sat there, flanked by two women our age, grinning like he’d won the lottery.
The second the rustling trees gave me away, he spotted me and cheered, “Ben!” As if we were in a freaking sitcom.
I didn’t know how to respond to that, so I just stared. His delight certainly wasn't contagious.
He wore those light blue, baggy jeans with the hole where the left pocket should be—the ones he always swore were his lucky pants. On his left sat a woman in a yellow bathing suit with a denim skirt over it, her brown hair tied into a ponytail. And on his right... O h no.
The girl, hiding her legs under an oversized black sweater, raised her hand and waved at me with a nervous smile.
“Hey, Chelsea,” I said as I walked over, because what else was there to say.
Why did Gordy invite her , of all people?
Chelsea and I had... a history. We tried being a couple two years ago, went on a few dates where we literally had nothing to say to each other, then ended it after a half-hearted make-out session in front of a drive-in movie theater.
I wasn’t feeling it, so I pulled the plug before it could actually hurt her.
We didn’t even watch the movie we came for.
Since then, we had bumped into each other here and there, but not once had we hung out.
I dropped down on the rock next to Gordy and glanced at the other woman sitting beside Chelsea.
“I’m Benji,” I said, since I didn’t know her.
“I know,” she replied, rolling her eyes, then shot Chelsea a look like she’d been dragged into this mess too.
I leaned back, bracing my palms against the cool stone, my eyes darting between the three of them. Nobody said anything for a good ten seconds. “Wow. What a fun party,” I deadpanned.
“You’re in a great mood,” Gordy shot back, grinning way too wide. He raised his eyebrows, his eyes bulging like they were about to pop out of his head—as if he wanted to scream, ‘ Come on, dude, play along, I wore my lucky pants for this .’
But he picked the wrong day for this shit.
I clicked my tongue. “My mood might be different if you hadn’t dumped your responsibilities on me at work today.”
“What an interesting way to say: Thanks, boss, for giving me the opportunity to work for you ,” Gordy replied, shooting a glance at the women, as if pulling this power move would land him a few bonus points.
“Yep.” I stood back up. “This was a fantastic idea.”
I didn’t wait for anyone to react. Just stepped off the rock, shoved aside the stupid branches, and headed back the way I came.
It didn’t take long for nervous laughter to follow me. Soon after, Gordy caught up and grabbed my shoulder, stopping me mid-step.
“What is wrong with you? Why are you so tense?” He looked me dead in the eye. “I thought you wanted to hang. That’s why I invited the girls. A little birdie told me—and I quote—that Chelsea might’ve said it was a mistake to break things up with you. I thought I was doing you a favor.”
“How selfless of you,” I muttered, pushing past him. “So I guess there was no conversation beforehand about how her friend wasn’t gonna show unless you set this up like a double date?”
“Well...,” he sighed. “Okay, maybe that came up in a chat, but does it even matter?”
I wasn’t in the mood to argue, and certainly not in the mood to pretend I was interested in my ex just to do Gordy a favor. All I wanted was to hang out with my best friend and forget what a pile of crap this day had been. But clearly, this wasn’t going to happen.
“Are you seriously that pissed because you had to work with Samuel today?” Gordy called after me.
“Yes, fucking yes.” I didn’t need an invitation to spin around and yell back. “I hate that dude.”
“Huh,” Gordy blinked, his head snapping back. “Well, color me surprised. I seriously thought you liked him.”
“Why the hell would I?” My fists clenched on instinct. The pressure in my chest was too much.
An epic grin appeared on Gordy’s face.
“And what is so funny about that?” I scowled.
“Oh, nothing.” Gordy slowly nodded like he was piecing something together.
“Just that... I hate this guy, too. My dad wouldn’t shut up about him yesterday.
” He puffed out his chest and lowered his voice to mimic his dad, his shoulders rising to his ears as he spoke.
“ This guy should be an example for you. Working in the field, even though it’s out of his comfort zone.
He’s eager to learn and works so hard. You should take a leaf out of his book.
Pft. What the fuck?” Gordy snorted, his shoulders dropping back down.
We stared at each other, sharing a moment of silence, only the leaves rustling above us. And then, we cracked. The tension dissolved into laughter, fast and loud, like air finally hissing out of a balloon.
“I’m sorry, man,” Gordy said between chuckles.
“If I had known you hated him as well, I wouldn’t have made you work with him.
Honest. I couldn’t stand being anywhere near him after Dad’s little speech.
And... I really thought it’d be a good chance for you to show my Dad that you’re worth having your contract renewed.
That you’ve, you know, grown and shit . I figured you wouldn’t mind after you defended him so hard yesterday. ”
“I didn’t know until today,” I cut in. “Who would’ve thought he was one of those rich snobs? Going to some fancy college with his parents’ money and pouring whatever he earns into a trust fund.”
Gordy’s eyebrows shot up. “He has a trust fund?”
”Or a savings account. Same difference. He gets to save everything, while we’re stuck paying bills. He’s got his own fucking apartment, paid for by his parents. If it wouldn’t cost me my job, I swear, I would’ve decked him hard.”
“Yeah. I know the feeling.” Gordy’s face softened. “But you know you can’t?—”
“You don’t have to tell me. I’m not that stupid.”
“So...” Gordy shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing down at the dirt, then back at me. “...are we good?”
I sighed, then nudged my shoulder into his and patted his back. “As if I could stay mad at you.”
“You really had me worried there for a second.” Gordy glanced back toward the girls. “Still want to hang?”
“I can, but don’t expect me to do anything with either of them.”
“Why not? I thought you were sad about Chelsea dumping you.”
“That’s not how I phrased it.” I shrugged, narrowing my eyes. “It’s not like she broke up with me .”
“Wait. What?” His eyes bugged as he finally understood. “ You broke it off?”
“I never told you otherwise.”
“You haven’t mentioned that at all, asshole.” Before I could blink, Gordy wrapped his left arm around my neck and yanked me into a playful headlock. “No wonder Alice hates you so much.”
He formed a fist and scrubbed his knuckles over the crown of my head.
It felt good, like the old days, when we couldn’t punch the people who deserved it, so we punched each other instead.
I wriggled my right arm free and jabbed it into his chest, just hard enough to slip out from under his armpit.
Gordy let out a sharp oof , then chuckled and rammed his elbow between my shoulder blades, trying to lock me in again.
We wrestled like idiots for at least a full minute—both of us laughing—before we finally broke apart, trying to catch our breath.
“Man, this was necessary,” I said.
“Am I fucked now?” Gordy asked, combing his fingers through his hair, searching for my eyes.
“I think you’d know if I’d shoved my dick into you,” I teased. “But you still look as beautiful as the day we first met.”
“I love you, too, man,” Gordy said, slapping some dirt off his pants, shaking his head.
“So, real talk,” I said, straightening my shirt. “I need to ask you something.”
“Shoot.”
“Since I can’t punch Sam... I thought I could do something else. I wanted to run it by you to see if you think I’d get away with it.”
“What do you mean, something else ?” Gordy said, squinting. “You don’t want to hurt him, right?”
“Nah.” I shook my head. “I had an idea for a prank. But I’ll need your help, and we’ll have to act fast, because it has to happen before your dad gets back from his conference.”
“I’m all ears.” A mean grin spread over his face. “But only if you come back and wingman for me.”
“Yeah, yeah. Deal.”
We stuck our heads together, making sure the girls couldn’t hear, whispering like idiots in the moonlight—plotting exactly how to get back at Sam.