Chapter 4
Auggie
Somehow I make it into my car and halfway back to the motel before I hiccup back my emotions and a flood of tears hits my eyes.
Why.
Am I.
So dumb?
This was supposed to be it. And for all Leon says about there being other chances, I know the truth. I’ve burned basically every bridge I’ve had. Dad’s handed me so many opportunities, and I’ve blown them all … Now I need to do what I’ve been determined to avoid.
I need to find something else.
But before then, I’m going to let myself sulk.
I spend most of the morning in bed, feeling sorry for myself, definitely not crying pathetically, before finally crawling out when I’m too hungry to ignore it anymore.
There’s a cute diner on the main road that I decide to go and grab lunch at. Being surrounded by people always gives me a little boost, because I’m determined to put on a happy face, and there’s something to the whole fake it ’til you make it mentality.
And today, I’m faking it hard.
It’s a small town, so I’m half expecting to run into Leon, but thankfully he isn’t around when I walk into Harvey’s, even though it’s busy with what I’m assuming is their lunch rush. After I’ve placed my order, I grab a free table and sink into the chair.
Everyone around me seems happy, completely wrapped up in their lives and how lucky they are to live in such a beautiful place.
My gaze lands on the little pride flag pinned up on the wall over the register, and it makes me smile again.
I’ve always assumed Sunbury was like the stereotypical small towns I’ve heard about.
Sweet but narrow-minded. When I was here for the festival though, this diner was an explosion of queer love, and it cemented my resolve that I’ll move here one day.
That I’ll find a husband and settle down and be accepted for exactly who I am.
I don’t need to be a builder for that. Surely. I mean there’s always … landscaping? I barely know a tree from a shrub, but that’s a thing people learn, right? So if people can learn it, there’s no reason why I can’t.
I’m smart … ish. I will bounce back and be resilient, and in no way will I sit here and sob into my waffles—that are a perfectly acceptable lunch choice.
My food is brought over, and I busy myself with watching others while I eat. It helps to get out of my head.
My gaze drops to two men who walk in as the diner is starting to clear a little. One is tall and blond and wearing a tight T-shirt with the Sunbury Fire Department logo on the front. I watch as he lifts the shorter man’s hand and nips at his knuckle while they wait to place their order.
The way they look at each other … swoon.
I all but turn to jelly.
Neither of them is especially my type, but since my circle of friends in Portland moved on to colleges across the country, I don’t get out much, which means I rarely see a whole lot of out queer people. So whenever I witness it in person, I can’t tear my eyes away.
I don’t think my parents ever expected me to be anything other than gay, but I didn’t realize I was giving off that impression. When I came out at eighteen, I’d thought I was going to shock their living brains out.
The only thing that shocked them was that I thought they didn’t already know.
Before that, the full extent of my relationships was giving blow jobs to a few of the straight jocks at school. Since then, it’s been all sleazy bar hookups and the occasional one-night stands with people I’m barely attracted to.
Because my dream type of guy isn’t all that interested in twinks.
Or, at least not interested in me.
I try, unsuccessfully, to keep my thoughts in the diner and not drifting back to the wide, hairy chest I was struck dumb by this morning.
Leon … oh, yeah. He’s my ideal type. Thick and strong with the type of body that doesn’t need gym-built muscles to be mouthwatering.
It’s probably a good thing we won’t be working together, when I can’t even remember the sight of his body without arousal starting to set in.
Hmm … maybe that’s something I can work on tonight.
Instead of going back to the motel and feeling sorry for myself, I might as well go out and hook up.
But … where?
I glance back over at the couple and decide, fuck it. It’s not like they know me or I’ll ever see them again.
I approach their table like I imagine I’d approach a drug deal. My face feels hot, and before I reach them, I try and work out my words in my head to avoid yet another embarrassing situation.
“Excuse me?” I clear my throat to get rid of the stupid squeaky thing it’s doing.
The shorter guy with dark hair looks me over. “Yeah?”
“I, umm, well, I noticed you two are together. Like, together together, and so I thought you might be able to point me in the direction of a gay club? Or something similar that might be around here.”
The blond guy looks confused, and it’s just hitting me what my assumption must sound like.
“Not that I’m assuming you go to anything like that. You’re clearly very much together, and that’s cool. Awesome. But I’m looking for somewhere to hang out tonight, and I thought …” The shorter guy starts to laugh, and my heart sinks.
“Never mind. Sorry I—”
“Relax, dude. It’s fine. Yeah, there are a few not too far from here, but nothing in Sunbury.”
I puff out a long breath. “Okay, yeah, that works. Where …”
“Go to Strokers in Port Welling. I think you’ll like it.”
I thank them an embarrassing number of times before I hightail it out of there.
Not wanting to accidentally run into Leon literally anywhere, I hide out in the motel for the afternoon. It would be easy enough to head home and go out in Portland instead, but the city and dance clubs there are all too big and busy for me.
If I want to end up in Sunbury one day, I should scope out what’s on offer first.
Such a hardship.
It’s lucky I packed a thousand outfit choices, even if nothing I brought is what I’d usually wear to a club. A cute tee and shorts will have to do.
Besides, I have no idea if where I’m going is more of a club or a laid-back queer scene, but either way this should be safe. Now I just need to hope I can find someone to hook up with and take my mind off Dad being right.
No builder will want to hire me.
I should have gone to college.
I have no direction.
Well, I’m only three years too late to think about all of that. Good thing there’s still time for a complete career redirection.
I try to pretend like that makes me feel better.
As soon as it’s dark, I order an Uber and head out to Port Welling. It takes under twenty minutes to get to Strokers, and as soon as I walk in, I instantly love it.
It’s a smaller bar than I’m used to, but the dance floor looks full, and there are so many people here from all different walks of life that I’m instantly more comfortable than the places I normally see filled with people my own age.
Men, women, nonbinary people. Older people and baby gays and even a couple that looks like they’re in some sort of Dom/sub relationship.
I want to meet everyone.
Instead, I force myself to calm down and head for the bar to get a drink. Once I have a few in me, I’ll feel confident enough to approach some people and hopefully get lucky.
The first drink is followed up by a second, then a third. Down the bar from me, a guy slams back a shot and catches my attention. He’s a good ten or so years older than me at a guess, with a thick handlebar mustache, hairy shoulders, and a body that could crush me.
He sends a wink my way, and a smile stretches across my face.
I order a shot and another drink. I’m going to need a bit more than confidence to take down this bear.