29. A Fine Bromance
29
A Fine Bromance
Uncle Andy and Gladys are in great moods. Gladys’s good mood still means calling me Robert. And making me mop the floor after yesterday’s rain even though I’ve done it twice. And painstakingly giving me instructions on the proper way to mop. But it feels a bit more like harsh constructive criticism than Gladys’s being critical.
After lunch, I text Luke back.
Me: Sure. Want to go for hot dogs?
Luke: Processed meat products and your celebrity discount? Do you even need to ask?
I almost reply I’m not a celebrity but leave it.
Luke texts again. A sign not responding immediately was a sage move.
Luke: I’ll even treat since it’s on Mr. Papadopoulos. Order whatever you want and as much as you want.
With the start of the college term only a few weeks away and reading lists getting posted online, the afternoon flies by with phone calls and keeners dropping by to grab used copies of textbooks.
“Things picked up around here all of a sudden,” I say when the store empties out.
Uncle Andy slides a box of paper bags under the counter. “We get a break when the festival gets going. Everyone swarms to Campus Books, the Official Bookseller of Little Elm’s Big Summer Reading Festival .”
“That doesn’t seem fair,” I say. “We display their posters and hand out their schedules. Why don’t we have a place at the festival?”
“It’s their festival. It’s their rules. I can’t complain. They’ve always left us the used book market. Things pick up again the first couple of weeks of term. We could really use an extra pair of hands then, but you’ll be in classes.”
Gladys jabs a finger in my direction while staring down Uncle Andy. “I’ve finally got this one skimming along at a satisfactory level. I’m not training another employee that is certain to be a downgrade from Robert.”
I lean over the counter and bat my eyelashes at Gladys. “That may be the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me in all our time together.”
“Don’t be fresh.” She swats me away with a Casey McQuiston book.
I smile to myself knowing Luke wouldn’t be able to get through Red, White & Royal Blue (novel or film).
“You should grab your own set of course books while we still have stock. And before you make some comment about how I’m softening toward you, think twice. It’s a sound, logical course of action and it guarantees us a sale,” Gladys says.
As I access my required reading lists, Gladys puts herself in charge of selecting the best copy of each title I need and stacking them in a box with big rubber bands around the books for each class with a piece of paper listing the course and its code.
“It sucks,” I say out loud to no one in particular. “Campus Books wouldn’t even know how to handle used book sales. How many students came in here today alone? We deserve a presence there too.”
“Would you be thinking that way if you were still at Campus Books?” Uncle Andy asks.
I wince.
“It’s ok,” he says. “I appreciate the loyalty you’ve developed for Corner Books.”
I smile, but it’s weak and fades quickly. “Corner Books was always loyal to me. I shouldn’t have forgotten so easily.” I shuffle my toe on the carpet. I hope Uncle Andy gets the subtext and by “Corner Books,” knows I mean him. “Are you going to see Cass tonight?”
He smirks. “Your mom needs to work.”
“You heard her about lions.”
“It’s easier to miss someone when they’re not underfoot and us older lions and lionesses don’t bounce back quite as quickly,” he says. “And the young lions need to sleep in their own beds. You can’t spend every night at Wanda’s.”
“I’m happy for you two,” I say quietly so Gladys doesn’t overhear.
“I’m happy for all of us.” Uncle Andy clears his throat. “Gladys and I will handle closing. You’ve got plans with the pool boy.”
Luke is already seated in a booth at Elm Dogs reading over the menu. When I slide in, Mr. Papadopoulos appears at the tableside and plucks the menus into his hands.
“I didn’t realize you were coming,” Mr. Papadopoulos says. “You won’t be needing these. I’ll have the kitchen send out this year’s festival specials.”
“That’s really not necessary,” I say, blushing already and hoping he doesn’t try to kiss me on both cheeks again.
Mr. Papadopoulos makes a tutting noise before going into the back.
“Don’t,” I say to Luke, catching his grin.
“Whatever you say, Casanova.” Luke drums his thumbs on the tabletop. “I didn’t know if I was supposed to invite Wanda, but she has some big competition she’s participating in with chickn_backflip.”
I knew about the stream. Wanda had been talking about it and it sounded a lot like a book blog tour where a bunch of streamers joined up in hopes of attracting each other’s followers. “You know anything about him?” I ask.
Luke shakes his head. “Not really. Some of the other counselors were teasing her about how much time they’re spending together. That is, until she decapitated their characters in front of the campers and used their heads to decorate her fortress.”
“Sounds like her.” I wait a second before I say, “Spill. The cleaner. What happened? I’m dying to know.”
Luke runs his hand through his hair. “The vapid frat boy thing came in handy.” Luke clears his throat. “ Ah, man. I’m so glad you’re here. I don’t know what happened. I locked myself in. You saved my ass, bro. I don’t know how to thank you. ”
I laugh. “That can’t have worked.”
“He told me we’ve all been there. I even saw him around today and he told me not to lock myself in tonight.”
“That was anticlimactic.”
“What were you expecting? A showdown?”
I hold up my hands in a shrug. “I thought you were going to lose your job.”
“That’s melodramatic. It’s nice you worried about me, but it’s all good. I did want to talk to you more about that night. I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you for closing the door.”
“You were kind of a jerk about it,” I say. “But only kind of. I shouldn’t have pulled it shut.”
Luke’s drumming speeds up. “I got used to people coming and going from my life with all the divorces, but I never want you to be one of them. I don’t want there to be any weirdness between us. It was already sort of awkward after everything with Roger. He’s my roommate, and I wouldn’t want to lose a friend like you over something silly.”
“A friend?” I ask. I let myself half hope Uncle Andy was right about there being something with Luke. Now that I know Luke is into guys, I wondered if I didn’t read enough into the bench or the rock or the night in the pool.
But wouldn’t Luke have made a move if he was truly interested? Wouldn’t I, if I had been sure? I don’t want this to be another Truman situation where I’m the only one who feels it, and I create delusions of some sweeping romance that will never be reciprocated.
“We are friends. Aren’t we?” Luke asks.
I force myself to smile, even though the half of me that was hopeful is deflating like a sad, rainbow unicorn. “Of course. Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I probably sound like I’m six years old asking you that.” He stops drumming and searches my face.
I look at the spot on the table that’s been worn smooth.
“I don’t know a lot of people in Little Elm,” he continues. “And I don’t want to lose a friend. I was worried I pushed you too far or things got misconstrued. I never want to make you uncomfortable, Casanova.”
I force my smile even harder, making it broader than before. “You don’t. You were a perfect gentleman when you weren’t being a love Grinch. No worries.”
“A perfect gentleman,” Luke repeats, still watching me.
I meet his look and hold it.
“Friends?” I ask.
Luke nods. “Friends.”
I force my smile as bright as I can, seeing Mr. Papadopoulos loading his arms with plates and heading in our direction. “Cool. Because I’m not normally friends with frat boys who get locked in pools overnight. I hang with a cooler crowd if you haven’t noticed.”
Luke scoffs. “I’m not cool enough for you?”
“Jury’s still out.”
But on the topic of where Luke and I stand, the verdict is in. Friends.