Chapter 4
Nick
H ey, Nick, I need to come by sometime today and get my records. I know you changed the damn lock. When will you be home?
I stared at the message in shock for about thirty seconds. Then I yelled, “Fuck you!” at my phone and marched into the spare room where Gabriel had kept his stupid record collection. He didn’t even like good music; every one of the albums he had sucked. He took his record player with him when he left, but he left about half of his records. I’d assumed he didn’t even want the ones he left, since he’d never mentioned them until the text.
I skipped my breakfast to take immense pleasure in breaking the records one by one, ripping the covers apart while I was at it. I left them scattered across the floor. “Any time this evening is fine, you bastard,” I said aloud to the empty room. Then I went to take a shower and get ready for work.
Before I dressed, I stared at myself in the bathroom mirror. I wondered if it would be weird of me to just get rid of all the mirrors in my house. I’d still know what I looked like, but at least I wouldn’t pause to scrutinize myself a million times a day as I tried to figure out where it all started going wrong.
No one will ever want you, Nick. You’re a turn-off now . His parting words. They were spoken in anger, but I knew he meant them. It was how he’d felt for years by that point, and I had no idea how long he’d been sleeping with other people. Still, I knew he couldn’t be completely right. At least I hoped he wasn’t. I’d had one revenge hookup right after we broke up, and that guy had seemed pretty into it, but we’d both been really drunk.
I tried to push the hurtful things he’d said to the back of my mind and ignore them, not let him get to me, but his criticism lived rent-free in my head constantly. I tried to adjust my shirt to hide my belly. I wished I still looked like I did when I met Gabriel.
I didn’t have to be at work until mid-morning, but I’d promised Caden I’d pick up the books at the library before I went in. I made sure there was plenty of room in my backpack for them and grabbed my helmet. Sometimes having a motorcycle as my only mode of transportation was inconvenient, but I still wouldn’t trade it for anything. The weather hindered me occasionally, but I had no choice but to plow through. When I showed up to work drenched from the rain, the kids usually thought it was funny. They were usually watching for me through the window when it was raining. It made me laugh when they did, and especially when they told me I should carry an umbrella on my crotch rocket.
I was thankful for the bike in more ways than one, the freedom of riding being first, but it was also how I met Caden and how I ended up with a job that made me happy instead of miserable. It was how I’d met the only group of people there that I trusted, it had brought me the only good things I had left in my life.
Caden had been admiring it in the parking lot of the restaurant I’d worked for back then. I hated my job there. The manager hated me. I was constantly reprimanded and felt like crying nearly every night when I left there. I was degraded and yelled at, always completely miserable even though the pay was good.
Caden looked up as I approached. “Nice bike, man, is it yours?”
When I first met him, I stereotyped Caden as just some jock who liked fast bikes, used them to pick up random chicks, and who was most likely a frat bro. I smiled through my nerves, because guys like that didn’t always like guys like me, and I was alone with him in a nearly empty parking lot. I tried to make quick small talk to regain my exit. Imagine my surprise when I asked him if he had a bike and his response was, “Nah. My fiancé does, though. I’m just his backpack.”
I stuttered to a stop. Did he just say his backpack? As in, this guy was engaged to a dude and wasn’t someone who would stomp me into the ground when he found out I was, too?
I would have thought he was fucking with me, that he somehow knew I was gay and was trying to lull me into a false sense of security, but the dreamy look in his eyes when he simply said, “my fiancé” told me that he was, in fact, serious. Because damn . That must be some real love. I was pretty sure I didn’t get that look in my eyes when I talked about Gabe. I was completely certain he didn’t get that look in his eyes when he talked about me . In fact, by that point, whenever I joined him at a function or we went on a rare date night it almost felt as though I was a bother, an annoyance. I was just some chore he had to take care of so he could go on with his life. He certainly wasn’t proud to have me on his arm anymore, like he had been when we started dating. We weren’t even married yet and he already seemed tired of me.
Showing solidarity in more ways than one, I said, “I wish my fiancé would be my backpack. He hates motorcycles. He’s never even ridden with me.”
Caden looked sympathetic, but at the same time his eyes lit up when he realized that I wasn’t the asshole he feared I was, either. Though he’d never been wary of me , because he could have kicked my ass if he wanted to, I was pretty sure he’d been wary of my reaction to his words.
We stood there talking for a long time in the parking lot, and that night I found out about the shelter he ran for LGBTQ youth and young adults. He happened to be looking for a cook, and he also happened to have greatly enjoyed the meal he’d just eaten. I’d already mentioned hating my job, so he offered me an interview the next day. The pay was less but the job was more fulfilling. The boss was also much nicer.
Gabriel had been pissed that I switched to a lower paying job without consulting him first. He didn’t care that I felt like I was doing something worthwhile with my life, or that I was happier all around at the new place. He was also angry that I’d made friends without him and got pissy every time I went for a ride with them, but he still refused to go with me, even when I invited him to come along. He was working late an awful lot and going on a lot of business trips at that time, and since he'd moved me six hours from all my family and friends, I was just happy I finally had people to spend time with.
Once I met Caden’s fiancé, it all clicked, and I knew why he looked vaguely familiar. I remembered them from the news. Caden looked a little different than he had back when he was a college hockey player, but their story had been a pretty sensational one, from the moment Jamie had gone missing until Caden had professed his love at the hockey playoffs. It was kind of hard to forget them. But damn I was glad I met them.
I pulled my backpack on and grabbed my keys, knowing that even though some of life hurt, I’d found my place in the world. I wouldn’t want to leave and go back home, even if I could afford to. My life might end up being lonely, but I was ok for the most part. It seemed like everything happened for a reason, even the things that sucked. I was unhappy to have been hurt so badly, but I knew I was better off without Gabe. Maybe someday I would look good enough for someone to like me again, but for the moment, I had friends, a purpose, and a bike. I guessed that was good enough.
My phone pinged on the counter as I was trying to decide if I should eat a granola bar on my way to the garage or just wait and eat lunch at the center. I snatched it up, ready to send back a photo of the records if it was Gabriel again. I let out a sigh of relief when I realized it was a friend that time, and my anger cooled instantly. Hey, I’ll meet you at the library and ride with you from there.
I smiled as I typed out a reply. Sounds good . I was glad to have met so many cool people with the same values I held. People who cared more about helping than about appearances and making money. I wasn’t sure I would have made it through alone, and even though I sometimes hated when they could see through me and asked how I was doing, they’d been more help to me than I could ever repay. I knew I’d made it through the sadness, but looking at the records scattered across the floor in the guest room, I thought that maybe there was a chance that I could possibly still be harboring a tiny bit of resentment toward him.
“That’s too bad,” I said aloud, frowning at all the money he’d thrown down the drain when he’d left those records in my care. I was tired of being his storage unit. I snickered, grabbed a granola bar, and headed out the door.
◆◆◆
I enjoyed the ride to the library. The weather was perfect. I had a strong feeling that life was going to get better. I had no idea where the feeling came from. Maybe it was the bright sunlight, the thoughts of my friends, the knowledge that I was going to make the kid’s favorite meal that day, and that I’d snuck in the stuff to make cookies, too. Whatever the reason, it just felt like everything was finally fitting together. If I could figure out how to look in a mirror without feeling disgust at what I saw, everything would be alright again. I’d been happy before I met Gabriel, and I would be happy again.
I pulled into the library parking lot. I found a text from Caden waiting for me. Dammit I told you to tell me when you were going to buy special stuff and I’d give you the money for it.
I just grinned and didn’t reply. I didn’t want him to pay for it. I liked doing special stuff for those kids. They deserved it, and the money didn’t need to come out of the funds that were there to help them. They made my day constantly, and sometimes I liked to treat them.
The woman at the library desk smiled when I told her why I was there. She came back with a bag of books. “Here they are. Thank you so much for taking them, and for all you do. We’re so lucky to have you guys in our town. So many people appreciate you. I hope you know that.”
I did, but it always felt good to hear it because we got plenty of hate, as well. That’s why the cops patrolled our block regularly, twenty-four hours a day. It’s why we were gated with a guard outside and round the clock security inside, and why there were cameras at all angles outside the building. It’s why we were staffed at all hours, and there were police call buttons in three different rooms. And it’s why, when there were protesters trying to set up outside, good people like the kind librarian came in with their own signs about love instead of hate and kept the other protesters out of sight of the windows. The kids had it hard enough. They didn’t need to see hate in the one place they felt safe.
I smiled at the librarian. “Thank you,” I said, and put the books in my backpack so I could get them to the center. I walked outside to the sound of another bike approaching. I grinned and waved, swinging my leg over my bike and getting ready to head to the only job I’d ever had that didn’t feel like work.