her room just to take a peek at it, but now Corey looked too young.
Maybe he should buy her a newer poster of him. Hell, now that his
parents knew the truth, he could put it on his own ceiling.
“Dad didn’t say a word,” Michelle pointed out. “That was nice. You
should have come out sooner.”
“Do you think he’s upset?”
“A little. I don’t think he knew what to say. Like he was worried
about saying the wrong thing.”
“I hope so.” Jace sighed. “Mom looked surprised. I thought you said
she knew.”
“Yeah, that was weird. She asked me if you were gay plenty of times
before.” Michelle thought about it a moment. “I guess she wasn’t sure,
but she’s going to be okay. How many times did she say she loves you?”
“About a million.” Jace laughed. “Like she developed a nervous tick
or something.”
“She just wants to make sure you know.” Michelle elbowed him.
“Probably so you don’t do something stupid like try to kill yourself.”
Jace had kept that from his parents. They had enough to think about.
He didn’t want them or anyone else to ever know. He had even burned
the suicide note so there wasn’t any chance of it being found again.
“Now that you’re out, you can start dating.”
“I wish it was that easy,” Jace replied.
“What kind of guy would you want? If you could design the perfect
guy, who would it be?”
The idea seemed so impossible, so unlikely, that Jace struggled to
answer. “I don’t know.”
“I want a guy who’s obsessed with me. Like a stalker.” Michelle
giggled. “I want him to be so enamored with me that he feels he can’t
breathe unless he kisses me every hour. I wouldn’t be into him though.
Not at first. But one night he would climb through my window and I’d
give into his passion—”
“Spare me the details,” Jace pleaded.
“Your loss. Anyway, after our night together, I would finally feel his
love—in more than one way.”
Jace groaned.
“Then I’d let him have my heart.” Michelle pointed to a 21 Jump
Street poster. “And he’d look just like Johnny Depp.”
“Of course he would.” Jace considered her fantasy. It didn’t appeal
to him at all, which made it easier to come up with his own answer. “I’d
want my guy to be my friend. Someone I know really well and am
comfortable with. I wouldn’t even know I was interested until one day
when I just sort of noticed him. Like seeing him for the first time.”
Michelle rolled over on her side to face him. “That happens,” she
said. “People are friends growing up until suddenly it changes one day.”
“Yeah.” Jace nodded. “I’d want him to be my best friend.”
Michelle was quiet before she asked, “Do you have a crush on
Greg?”
“What?” Jace looked over at her. “No! At least, I don’t think so.”
“Hm, maybe you just need to ‘see him for the first time,’” she said
dramatically.
Jace laughed before grabbing a pillow and thwacking her with it. “At
least I’m not deluded enough to think Johnny Depp is obsessed with
me.”
“It’s not actually Johnny Depp. My lover just looks like him, that’s
all.”
“Oh, right. Well, he’ll have to wait in line behind all your other
boyfriends.”
Michelle smirked. “Jealous?”
“Totally. One hundred percent.”
“Don’t be,” Michelle said softly. “You’ll find someone. Just give it
time.”
Jace looked longingly at all the beautiful faces staring down at him
and hoped with all his being that she was right.
Chapter Three
“I don’t know why Bernie hired you,” Dan sneered.
That’s all Dan ever did. He sneered at customers, he sneered at
Bernard behind his back, and when it came to Jace, he was on a sneering
marathon. A shame, because Jace was starting to agree with Bernard:
Keeping busy did make him happier. The last couple of weeks had been
too full for him to get angsty about anything. If Jace wasn’t at school or
working, he was hanging out with Michelle or Greg. That left no time to
feel mopey about his lack of a love life.
Getting his first paycheck was nice too. The amount wasn’t much,
but it was all his. He could blow it on anything he wanted without having
to answer to his parents. So far he had taken Michelle out to eat and Greg
out to a movie, spending most of the rest on a pair of overpriced
sunglasses he felt made him look older.
Maybe this was his future. No kids, no loving partner, but tons and
tons of cash. Jace could compensate for his loneliness by climbing
corporate ladders and making money hand over fist. Hard to feel sorry
for yourself when you’re driving around in a Jaguar. Of course that was
all still far away. Humble beginnings and all that. Jace tuned back into
Dan’s rant.
“I never needed help before, and if anything, Bernie comes around
more now that you’re here. That’s stupid, because now there are two of
you hanging around doing nothing.”
Except it was Dan who stood around picking his nose, literally, until
a customer came in. Jace was the only one to clean up spills, put
abandoned candy back where it belonged, or wipe out the microwave. He
was happy to since it meant being farther away from his coworker.
Speaking of which, Jace headed over to the drink station to restock the
cups.
While he was doing so, a chime rang, signaling a customer had
walked through the door. From the nasal voice that rang out, he didn’t
need to turn around to see who it was. Dan had a girlfriend. Jace didn’t
know her name, had never said a single word to her. All he knew was
that she and Dan were a match made in Heaven. While Dan sneered at
him, she pulled back her lips at Jace, as if he were a feces-covered
weasel or something. In contrast, when Dan and this woman looked at
each other, they became repulsively affectionate.
Jace tended to stay out of the way when they were together, like he
did now, keeping busy until Dan came over to him with an almost
friendly expression. Jace sighed inwardly. He knew what was coming.
“Hey, champ,” Dan said. “Cover for me, okay?”
“Fine,” Jace said, glancing over at the clock. “Don’t be long. My
shift ends in half an hour.”
Dan nodded, already having turned away before Jace had finished
speaking. At least his work day would end on a positive note. Jace
moved behind the counter, happy to be on his own. He helped the few
customers who came in, but soon he began staring at the clock. The end
of his shift came and went. He didn’t panic. Dan usually came back after
an hour, which only meant staying half an hour extra. Bernard would
probably praise him for putting in overtime.
Except the hour hand kept moving upward, until two hours later
when it passed the twelve and began its descent again. Not cool. Already
there had been one pissed-off customer who wanted beer that Jace
couldn’t sell. That sucked enough, but he also had school in the morning,
and had no idea if Dan was coming back at all. He darted into the back
room to check the schedule. The next person didn’t begin her shift until
two in the morning.
He considered calling Bernard, but that would probably mean
waking him up. Besides, Jace didn’t want to be the kind of person who
ratted out a coworker. Instead he returned to the cash register, resigned to
being stuck there for now. Ironically, the night shift wouldn’t be so bad if
he didn’t have school. There were hardly any customers. In fact, the store
was silent until almost one in the morning.
That’s when the werewolf showed up.
A mane of brown hair, tall pointed elf ears, and a long snout with an
open mouth of red glistening teeth. Just a mask, of course, but disguises
and gas stations didn’t have the best history together. Jace glanced
outside. No cars were at the pumps. The person in the werewolf mask
didn’t browse or glance around. Instead he headed straight for the
counter where Jace was. At first he thought Dan might be playing a trick
on him, but the body in the green army surplus jacket lacked the
necessary potbelly.
The hair on the back of Jace’s neck bristled with fear. His first night
in the store alone, and he was getting robbed.
Or was he overreacting? The werewolf had stopped in front of the
counter and was just staring at him. Jace stared back. The eyes were
human, ruining the monstrous illusion, but they were still upsettingly
mismatched. One eye was brown, the other green. Jace had never met
anyone with two different-colored eyes before, which meant this wasn’t
a joke. Greg wasn’t beneath the mask, nor was one of his sister’s
boyfriends, or anyone he knew from school.
“Halloween isn’t for another couple of days,” Jace said, throat dry.
“Never too early to start trick-or-treating,” the werewolf replied in a
muffled voice.
Jace licked his lips. “You want candy?”
“Cigarettes. Give me a carton.”
This time the voice sounded firmer. No doubt about it, Bernie’s was
being robbed. “I’m not old enough to sell cigarettes,” Jace said, buying
for time. He moved his hands below the counter, felt around for what
Bernard had only mentioned in passing, but what Dan had delighted in
taking off the shelf and waving around. Jace’s fingers brushed against
cold metal and a wooden stock. He didn’t know how to fire a gun, aside
from what he’d seen in movies, and he sure as hell didn’t know how to
handle a shotgun, but maybe it would be enough to scare away this guy.
The mismatched eyes searched his before moving down his body.
With both hands hidden beneath the counter, Jace felt sure it was obvious
what he was doing. The werewolf raised an arm, and even though he saw
no weapon, Jace grabbed the shotgun, trembling hand slick with sweat
on the metal barrel. Jace kept the gun hidden from view, but beneath the
counter was a thud as the wooden stock bumped into something. The
werewolf hesitated, but then moved his arm higher and pulled off the
mask.
A stranger. Definitely a stranger because Jace would have
remembered seeing him. He noticed the hair first, a brown so dark it
could be mistaken for black, but the florescent lights revealed all. His
head was shaved on each side, the remaining strip of hair too wide to be
a mohawk. Instead Jace thought of a skunk, maybe because of the
bristled hair or because the word rhymed with punk. That’s what this guy
was. A punk. No one looked healthy in the store’s stark lighting, but this
guy’s olive skin tone fared better than most, his face flushed and sweaty
from wearing the mask.
Heart still thudding, Jace gripped the gun tighter. The mismatched
eyes bored into his, as if reading his every thought and intention.
“My name is Victor.” He tossed the werewolf mask on the counter.
“It doesn’t matter that you’re too young to sell cigarettes because I’m too
broke to buy them.”
“So?” Jace said, the word coming out as a challenge. Was he being
robbed or not?
Victor considered him a moment longer and then smiled. “So I’m
shit out of luck.”
Jace didn’t reply, watching for any sudden moves.
“Penny for your thoughts,” Victor said.
Jace frowned. “I thought you didn’t have any money?”
“So I’ll owe you.”
Okay. Why not? “What you are doing here?”
Victor exhaled and glanced around the store. “Bored. Lonely.
Desperate.” Mismatched eyes met his again. “You know the feeling?”
Jace lifted his hands off the gun. “Yeah.”
“Yeah.” Victor pressed his lips together, eyeing the display of
cigarettes behind the counter. “So… You smoke?”
“Of course.” Jace winced inwardly. Why had he said that? Maybe
because there was something undeniably cool about Victor. If Jace could
start over in a new school and reinvent himself, he’d probably copy a lot
of what Victor had going on, although he might wimp out on the three
silver loops piecing one ear’s cartilage.
“Well—” Victor read his nametag, “—Jason, do you mind if I bum a
cigarette?”
“Jace,” he said. “Uh, I’m sort of out.”
Victor glanced meaningfully back at the display.
“Oh. Right!” Jace turned around to face rows of cardboard boxes that
favored red, green, and gold. Every day was Christmas to a smoker.
“What kind do you like? They’re all the same to me.”
Why the hell was he doing this? As Victor verbally guided him to the
right brand, Jace started to get angry at himself. Hell, werewolf-boy
could be reaching over the counter right now, grabbing for the shotgun
while Jace’s back was turned. He spun around, pack of cigarettes in
hand. Victor was right where he’d left him. The mismatched eyes lit up
at the sight of the smokes, and for some reason Jace felt like smiling. Oh
crap! He was smiling!
“Let’s go out front,” Victor said. “Unless there’s a swanky lounge in
back or something.”
Jace shook his head, grabbing one of the cheap lighters from the
counter. Already he was adding up a list in his head. He should have
enough cash on him to pay for these things. Bernard would never know
that a customer hadn’t come in and bought them as long as the money
was in the register.
Outside, Jace was reminded of just how small their town was. No
cars were in sight, no boom of a nightclub or whatever other noises a real
city might have. The ethereal sound of a train in the distance was the sole
indication that he and Victor weren’t the only people left on earth.
“May I?” Victor gently took the pack of cigarettes from Jace,
slapping the top of the container against his palm to “pack the tobacco,”
as one of his sister’s boyfriends had once explained. Jace had thought it
was bullshit then, but now it seemed kind of cool.
Once the package was open, Victor held out the box to him. Jace
took one, trying to remember the last time he smoked. He usually did
okay. Sometimes he coughed. He prayed this wouldn’t be one of those
times. He raised the lighter, but Victor had pulled out a silver Zippo.
When he flicked open the lid, a flame sprang to life. Victor leaned
forward to offer him the gift of fire, a white cancer stick bouncing up and
down between his lips that he then lit second.
Jace choked, but managed to hold it in, eyes watering. Victor sucked
deep on his cigarette, smirking a little before he exhaled through his
