Chapter 104
Lowering her voice, his mother swore, “Jesus, Mary, and Joseph.”
“This is different,” Stacy said, earnest. “Believe me, Mom. I’m so close to graduating, I don’t want to screw up now. Darian won’t letme screw up. He told me no, you happy?” Why was he telling her this? “I tried and he turned me away, said not until I’m out of the program. He’s good for me, Mom. Wait ‘til you meet him. You’ll see.”
More silence. Then she asked just one, short question. “Is he black?”
Stacy exploded. “What the fuck’sit matter?” Thank God it was a Sunday and the other stores around him were closed—his voice raised as he railed against the phone. “He’s gay, too, what do you think of that? But he has his own business and he’s a great teacher, an awesome friend—I’m working at his shop now and he’s a wonderful boss on top of everything else. Hell, he’s even got a son who thinks I’m hot shit. I didn’t call to brag about it, Mom, okay? I just wanted you to know I’m okay. I’m safe for once, and happy, probably for the first time my whole damn life, so don’t ruin this for me. Just because I’m not living the way you think I should—”
She interrupted his tirade. “A son? Stacy, how—”
“Figure it out!” he hollered. Before she could reply, he slammed the phone back into its cradle and squeezed his eyes shut against tears that threatened to spill down his cheeks. Why had he wanted to call her again? Or Ange, for that matter? He should’ve never left the shop, never let Darian out of his sight. At least oneperson in the world had the time for him.
He took a long, shuddery breath to compose himself. When he thought his hand wouldn’t tremble, he let go of the phone, wiped his eyes, then massaged his temples where a headache was starting to bloom. He needed a break—from his life, his friends, his family. From school, from work. Suddenly the thought of being along with Darian on a tropical beach sounded like paradise. If only that dream could come true.
Another breath to steady himself, then Stacy turned and started for the shop. He only got a few steps down the sidewalk before he realized the Neon was gone. The sun gleamed off the deep red hood of Darian’s truck with a malicious wink, as if saying, He knows.
How much of the conversation with his mom did Darian overhear? Stacy’s step quickened—he had to find out.
He expected Darian to be waiting for him just inside the shop. He could almost hear the words in his boss’s voice. Who’re you talking to?But Darian wasn’t on the sales floor or behind the counter. Trepidatious, Stacy pushed through the swinging doors to find Darian tying his apron back into place. He looked up and gave Stacy a sad smile. “Everything all right?”
Stacy let the doors swing shut behind him. “Fine.” Because the sadness didn’t fade from Darian’s face, he nodded. “I’m fine.” With a laugh, he added, “My mom’s a little pissed, though.”
Darian’s smile turned real. “She just wants what’s best for you.”
Crossing the workshop, Stacy stepped up behind Darian and wrapped his arms around his boss’s waist. He felt Darian stiffen at his touch, but he kept it innocent—his hands gripped his own wrists as he buried his face against Darian’s back in a huge bearhug.
This close, Darian’s scent eclipsed the world, and Stacy breathed it in deep, letting it fill him up inside. He held it in, trapping it, making it a part of himself. Before he could stop himself, he pressed his lips to Darian’s back and kissed him through his chambray shirt, right between his shoulder blades. “You’re what’s best for me,” he whispered, his words hot against Darian’s shirt.
Darian’s hands found Stacy’s. For a brief moment, their fingers twined together and Darian held him tight in a firm grip. Then he eased Stacy’s arms from around his waist and stepped out of Stacy’s embrace. “It’s just as difficult for me, Stacy,” he murmured. The sadness was back in his eyes, but his smile stayed sweet. “And every time we touch, it gets harder and harder for me to pull away.”
“Then don’t,” Stacy tried, but Darian shook his head. Stacy sighed. “I know, you only date smart guys.” At Darian’s laugh, Stacy asked, “What if—if I don’t pass? Like I know I’m not going to ace the thing on my first shot, but what if I can’tpass it? How many times do they let you take it before they say sorry kid, you’re just stupid, go home?”
“You’re not stupid.” Stacy rolled his eyes but Darian set a hand on his shoulder and told him, “You’ll pass, I know you will. You better.”
At the tone of warning in his friend’s voice, Stacy looked up to find Darian grinning at him. “You weren’t the only one who lost sleep last night over that kiss.”
* * * *
A little before seven that evening, Darian called it a night. On the way home, he stopped by the bookstore near Wal-Mart. “What are we doing here?” Stacy asked as he climbed out of the cab. The parking lot was almost empty—another few minutes and the bookstore would be closed. Darian waited as Stacy came around the front of the truck, his hands deep in his pockets so he wouldn’t be tempted to take one of Darian’s.