In the Fishbowl - 21. Chapter 21

A/N: Thanks to Jim for editing!

Travis didn’t ask for an explanations when Dennis wordlessly tossed him the car keys. He would have asked to drive, anyway. Maybe Dennis didn’t appear drunk, but there was no need to take any more risks, because just getting into a car with Dennis at the moment--that seemed like a risk.

He wasn’t speaking; hadn’t since he told Travis he was ready to leave the club. It was making Travis wary. He wanted to break the silence, but the two times he’d tried, Dennis had refused to speak a word to him. Dennis looked at him expectantly, though, once they were both in the car and he’d buckled up.

“Are you mad at me?” Travis asked frankly. He hated that question. Rarely ever asked it, especially when he already knew the answer.

Dennis looked out his window. “What for?” he replied.

In other words, Travis thought, Dennis was angry over more than one incident, and wanted to know which one Travis was referring to. Travis decided to start with the one that seemed easiest. “He kissed me.”

“I saw that,” Dennis replied. Travis glanced at him as he finally started the car. Dennis really wasn’t jealous. Travis wondered if it was because he didn’t care about who he kissed, or because Dennis knew that Travis really hadn’t been the kisser.

“It’s bothering you, Dennis.”

Dennis looked at Travis again. He was beginning to look tired, as if all the drinks he’d had were finally catching up to him. “You didn’t start it, but it’s your fault,” Dennis said.

Travis snorted. “How do you figure?”

Dennis gave him a pointed look. “It has to be your fault.”

Travis frowned and concentrated on the road for a few minutes. He could feel himself pouting as he thought over what Dennis was saying, and then finally allowed... maybe it was a little bit his fault. It’s not like he hadn’t flirted with Owen. Maybe he’d even given him a few signals in the past. But, he hadn’t done anything intentional ever since he’d sworn off both Owen Dovan and Aiden Knightly. Those two were trouble that Travis found best to avoid. “Well, it’s not gonna happen again,” Travis said quietly. “I didn’t realize it was going to happen tonight.”

Dennis was silent for a moment. “What are you gonna do about it?” he suddenly asked.

“What? I don’t know. I’ll tell him it won’t happen again, I guess.”

“Don’t hurt him.”

With those words, Travis had to look twice at the serious look on Dennis’s face. So there it was. He wasn’t angry that someone else had kissed Travis. He was worried that Owen was going to get his feelings hurt. Travis supposed he could understand that. He was worried about the same thing. There was just one problem: Travis knew that if he talked to Owen, Owen was going to get his feelings hurt.

“So what am I supposed to do?” Travis asked. “Let it happen again? Start going out with him?”

“If you want to.”

If I want to? “I don’t want to,” Travis said quickly. “He’s not my type.” Dennis raised his brow at that, and Travis caught it. “What?”

“I thought everyone was your type.”

Travis rolled his eyes. “Not Owen. He’s too...”

“Too, what?”

“I don’t need anyone falling in love with me,” Travis replied, deciding to be blunt about it. “Not like that, anyway.”

“You’re sure of yourself,” Dennis remarked.

Travis shot him a look. “You know what I’m talking about. Owen’s the type that... loves. He wants to think it’s this permanent thing that’s supposed to make your life better, and then he wants to stick with it, like nothing else matters because he thinks that’s what people are supposed to do.”

“And you don’t?”

“Of course not. Love is... temporary. In the moment. This silly little emotion that just happens. Kinda like laughing. People fall in love all the time, just not in the way he thinks, and when they’re crazy enough to try it, it makes them stupid. Love makes people stupid.”

Dennis leaned back in his seat, thinking on that for a moment. “You really think that?”

“Yep.”

“So you’ve never been in love?”

Travis laughed. “Hell yeah, I have.” He smirked over at Dennis. “Ask me to pull over and I’ll fall in love with you right now.”

Dennis shook his head, and it made Travis look at him curiously.

“Have you?” Travis asked.

Dennis said nothing for several moments, not until Travis began to think he wasn’t going to answer. “No.” Dennis sighed, and from the driver’s seat, Travis watched him relax. He realized it was the first time since Leo had made a scene at the club, and suddenly Travis wasn’t so eager to question him about it.

“Hey, Dennis--you hungry? We can stop for something to eat... take it to your place?”

“More plans?”

Travis smiled. “Yeah. Something like that.”

***

On Friday afternoon Travis sat in John Gordon’s office at the dealership, staring blankly at a chip in the paint covering the wall as he tapped a pencil that he’d picked up with no intention of using it. He should have been working. Mr. Gordon had left shortly after lunch and was still too annoyed with Travis to ask him to come along. Travis had been grateful for that, but now that he had the opportunity to get some real work done, he just... didn’t feel like it.

The night before was still on his mind, and despite a few rough patches, the memory was a good one. It had been a while since Travis had the sort of morning-after euphoric feeling that he was experiencing now. It made him wish that he could go back. He wished that he was still the Chesleys’ basement with a sore back from being on the floor for so long. He’d spent the whole night there, because that was where he and Dennis had stretched out to pick at a meal of fried chicken and milkshakes while poor Valentine remained locked in the bathroom so they could do it in peace.

Their heads had been close together, and often when Travis spoke it was into Dennis’s ear, as if every conversation touched a secret that had to be whispered. They’d talked a lot. Travis had talked a lot. Much more than he’d expected to. He’d set out to learn Dennis’s secrets regarding Leo Sader, and instead, Travis had given up a few of his own. He couldn’t recall what had started him on talking about Sara. Maybe it was because that now that Kyle knew, he didn’t see any reason why Dennis shouldn’t. Either way, talking about it to Dennis was different. Travis had done so on his own accord. He’d felt relaxed about it, and while some of Dennis’s more negative opinions regarding the matter were clear on his face, Dennis didn’t so much as say a word against it. He didn’t tell Travis that he was an idiot, or that he was fucked up. Not even when Travis explained his mixed feelings towards the woman in the hospital. Dennis told him that he could take Valentine back there if he wanted to, and when Travis had enough of talking about it, the conversation had switched to more comfortable topics with a natural sort of ease.

Travis never liked to credit anything good to an alcoholic beverage, but he knew well enough that everything Dennis had chugged down that night had to account for his lowered inhibitions. He still remembered the way the blond’s head had tilted to rest on his shoulder when Dennis’s eyes started to get heavy. Travis had smiled at it then, and smiled at the memory now. He’d moved an arm around Dennis’s shoulders and turned to his side, ready to take Dennis down with him. Travis figured he was about ready to pass out. But, when Dennis had turned into him easily, his hand had also found its way up Travis’s shirt; and the way Dennis’s fingers played over his ribs, then down the rigid muscles of his stomach, it had been no accident.

Travis hardly had the chance to start kissing him before Dennis had him half-undressed and straddled as he did interesting things to Travis’s neck with his mouth. A pillow had joined them on the floor when Dennis took the time to pluck it from the bed and prop it beneath Travis’s head. Travis had temporarily ruined the moment by laughing hysterically at this, and he only laughed more at the way Dennis scowled after being told how courteous he was. Dennis had pleasantly shut him up, and not long after, Travis returned the favor before Dennis closed his eyes around two in the morning, no longer aware of the world around him as Travis let Valentine out of the bathroom, cuddled next to him on the pillow, and added a blanket to their camp on the floor.

Travis didn’t sleep much, as usual, but it was still a shock when Dennis was the one who’d woken him up that morning. It had been a gentle shake to his shoulder that got him to open his eyes with a slight start. He’d been disoriented at first, but able to relax when he was met with Dennis’s half-closed green eyes and messy hair. “What time do you have to work?” he’d asked, as if this was a genuine concern for him.

Travis had glanced at the clock in the room only briefly before he was focused elsewhere, tracing the thin line of hair below Dennis’s belly with his fingers. “I’ve got about three hours, easy.”

Travis laughed when Dennis looked affronted for waking himself so early, collapsed back onto the pillow, and informed him to go back to sleep. Travis pretended to until the feel of Dennis’s body stretched out against his own made it too obvious that he was wide awake.

Travis hadn’t wanted to leave; wouldn’t have hurt his feelings if they’d both just taken the day off. But, Dennis wasn’t cooperative when it came to blowing off work, and Travis had ended up at the dealership, anyway. He told Dennis to drop him off at the end of the parking lot, like he had in the past, but there was a light mixture of snow and rain falling from the overcast sky, and cold winds had blown into town overnight. Dennis got called courteous again when he ignored Travis and drove him right up to the doors. Travis bet that now Dennis wished he hadn’t.

John Gordon had walked out of the offices as soon as they’d pulled up. Travis would have called it a coincidence, if the old man hadn’t stopped in front of Dennis’s car and stared at them through the window until Dennis said, “I think you should get out now.”

Dennis wanted to get out of there, and Travis didn’t hold it against him. He held it against John Gordon. Travis had shook his head at him as Dennis drove away, asking, “Was that really necessary?”

John had given him a cold look, and then proceeded to be an ass up until the moment he’d left. Travis was tempted enough to leave, too. He was supposed to be out making sales. He supposed that he could stick around long enough to make a few. It wasn’t like he couldn’t use the commission.

Forcing himself away from the office, Travis spent the next two hours on the lot. He sold a used car, which was at least something, and told himself that it was good enough for a day’s work. He checked John’s office to make sure his employer hadn’t returned, and was just about to gather his things and go when someone else walked into the lobby. Another sales associate jumped right on the dark-haired young man, and Travis rolled his eyes as he watched Kyle Davis assure her that he didn’t need a new car. He looked grateful when he saw Travis nearby, and moved across the room with no further explanation to the young woman who seemed insistent upon getting into his wallet.

“Hey.”

“Hi. What are you doing here?” Travis asked.

Kyle looked around, seeming oddly nervous. Travis guessed he was wary of more sales people. “Your boss isn’t here, is he?”

Travis smiled, remembering the last time Kyle had encountered John Gordon. “No. You’re safe. So what are you doing here?”

“Are you busy right now?” Kyle asked, avoiding the question for the second time.

Travis looked at him curiously. “No. I was just getting ready to leave, actually. Why?”

“Good,” Kyle replied. He looked almost relieved, and Travis felt red flags go up as he tried to figure out what was going on. “Are you going home? I could drive you.”

“That sounds good,” Travis agreed. He felt like he hadn’t been home in a while, and suddenly felt a little eager to get there. Whatever was going on with Kyle would come out eventually, and Travis guessed that eventually would be soon, because the guy looked shaken. "Are you alright, Kyle? Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Kyle said quickly. “It’s good.”

Travis looked skeptical, but shrugged. “Okay. I’ll get my things.”

The streets were still wet on the way to their apartment complex while frost stuck to the grass. Travis thought it was fortunate Kyle had shown up. It saved him from the weather. He just wished that Kyle was in a better mood about it.

As far as Travis was concerned, whatever problems that had been between them would be considered at an end until the next time Kyle overstepped his boundaries. He’d assumed that was made clear enough to Kyle, but now Travis wondered about it. Kyle wasn’t cold towards him. He did nothing to suggest they were fighting, but something about him was distracted. Every attempt Travis made at conversation on the ride home was met with delayed reactions or silence, and Kyle only pretended to laugh at his jokes. Travis didn’t know if he should be insulted or worried.

In the end he decided to let it go. Checking the time, he thought it might be safe enough to call Dennis soon, who wasn’t supposed to be working very late. He didn’t know if he’d be meeting up with him, but he wanted to make a point to call. Travis was well aware that while Dennis would never admit it, it bothered him when that phone call came late, and they were having too much fun together for Travis to want to ruin it by pointing out to Dennis that he could always do the calling if he got sick of waiting.

But, Travis didn’t get around to dialing the number anytime soon when he realized that Kyle wasn’t going home, but walking to his apartment with him. Travis treated the situation as if he’d expected it. “I think there’s leftover pizza,” Travis said as he fished out his keys in front of the door. Ever since Aiden had moved in, the door was almost always guaranteed to be locked. Travis wasn’t complaining about it. “Are you hungry?”

“No. I’m not. I’m not hungry.”

“Okay. I think I’m gonna jump in the shower for a few minutes,” Travis said as he let them in. It wasn’t a dismissal. Kyle could make himself at home if he felt like sticking around for a while. Maybe, Travis thought, Kyle would explain why he was acting so strange after he got out of the shower.

“Okay,” Kyle replied, and just as Travis had expected him to do, Kyle let himself fall back on the couch, easily lifted the television remote and hit the power button. Travis headed for the hall, but he hardly reached it before the television was off and Kyle was back on his feet. “Hey, Travis?”

Travis turned and leaned his shoulder against the wall. Maybe Kyle didn’t need more time after all. “Yes?” Travis asked, looking his friend over carefully. Kyle, with his dark looks and thin frame could look rather severe when he was about to get serious about something.

Kyle thought some more about whatever it was he was trying to say, and finally sighed. “Are you okay?”

Travis raised an eyebrow, not sure if there was a reason why he shouldn’t be okay, and Kyle had asked as if someone had just died. “Um...yeah. I think I’m pretty good.”

Kyle frowned, looked at his feet and fidgeted with his hands. Travis straightened himself in response, his curiosity rising to new heights.

“Listen, Travis...” Kyle said cautiously. “I want you to know that I’m not trying to butt in anywhere... I just thought, if there was anything you wanted to talk about...”

“Like what?”

Kyle pursed his lips, took a step forward, and looked Travis straight in the eye. If Travis didn’t know any better, he’d say his friend had just converted from the sympathetic friend in the middle of a wake to the surgeon breaking the bad news. “Look, you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Travis’s brow shot up. Curiosity was over, and now he just wanted to know what was going on. “If you say so... Look, I think you’re gonna have to tell me what you’re talking about, ‘cause you stopped making sense a while ago.”

“I saw, Travis. I know what Owen did to you--I wanted to see if you were okay last night, but you left the club so quickly. Man, he was completely out of line.”

“What?” Travis blurted, but he was no longer wondering what Kyle was talking about. It was obvious that Dennis wasn’t the only one who’d witnessed Owen’s surprise.

“Look, I like Owen,” Kyle insisted. “And I don’t care that he’s... like that. He’s Nicky’s best friend, so I know he’s a good guy... but he should know better.”

“Know better than what?” Travis asked. He was becoming more and more interested in this conversation.

“Come on, Travis,” Kyle said skeptically. “A guy kissed you--a guy who you’re working for. I know you’re doing work at the club. If he made you feel trapped... you know what? I’m going to Chris.”

“No you’re not,” Travis unintentionally snapped. Kyle looked a little too sure of himself.

“Why the hell not? What he did...”

“What he did I’d normally consider a perk of the job, Kyle. Not harassment. So you can stop acting like I’ve been scarred for life now.”

Kyle looked at Travis like he’d lost his mind. “What? You mean you’re okay that he kissed you?”

“No.” Travis sighed. There was an underlying question that Kyle wanted answered. “I would have stopped him if I’d seen it coming, but only for a reason that really... is none of your business. Other than that... if you wanna say something to Chris, you can tell him his brother’s a good kisser.”

Travis studied Kyle carefully, watching the color rise in his friend’s cheeks as he finally decided to understand what Travis was telling him. This was suddenly becoming uncomfortable, and for the life of him, Travis couldn’t figure out why. To his way of thinking, there was nothing for Kyle to be bothered about.

Kyle disagreed.

“Oh my god!” he blurted. He looked like he was going to pull his hair out. “You know, I keep thinking... I don’t know anything about you. I don’t fucking know anything about you!”

“Hey,” Travis said, taking another step forward. “Excuse me, but I wasn’t aware that a list of everyone I’ve ever fucked was required during introductions.”

“Travis, you...”

“Have I ever come onto you?” Travis cut him off.

“No!”

“Was there ever a chance in hell either one of us would be interested in each other.... romantically?”

“No! Why would you even...”

“I wouldn’t. Trust me--don’t take offense, I avoid being interested in all straight guys. Have you ever asked me, even once, who I date? Who I’m interested in?”

“You didn’t tell me, Travis!”

“Did you ask me?”

“No, but...”

“You didn’t ask, and trust me, I didn’t hide it from you,” Travis stated. “Just like I’m not now.”

Kyle stared at him blankly, only able to shake his head.

“Maybe,” Travis said, “you should ask yourself what who I’m attracted to has to do with our friendship.” After all, he thought, it would be the reasonable thing to do.

Unfortunately, Kyle Davis had no reason left. Only anger.

“I’m starting to wonder if we even have a friendship, Travis.”

Travis frowned. He’d made that threat a few times himself. Maybe it seemed wrong now that he was the one hearing it, but still, he felt his reasons had been more justified than this. “You can’t be serious.” Travis’s next step would have put him just over a foot away from Kyle, but when Kyle suddenly flinched back, Travis never made it that far. All he could do was stare again. Kyle wouldn’t meet his eyes, and there was something in his face that... Travis didn’t like it. “Okay,” he said slowly. “Okay. Then go. We’ll talk later.”

Kyle looked up then, both hurt and furious as he shook his head. “No, Travis. I don’t think so.”

Travis opened his mouth, but nothing came out. He made damn sure nothing came out. He was confident that Kyle would soon regret his words, and Travis didn’t want to leave anything regrettable of his own, so he just stood there, flinching until the front door slammed after Kyle walked out it.

Suddenly very tired, Travis moved to the sofa, sat down slowly. He wished that someone could explain to him, exactly what had just happened. Why he suddenly felt hurt. Why Kyle was so angry. Was it because he thought Travis was keeping another secret? Or was it the nature of the supposed secret?

Travis ran his hands over his face, frustrated and confused. Travis was no closet case. Why was Kyle so surprised? Why the hell would it even matter to him? Travis knew that his friend had never been entirely comfortable when it came to same-sex couples showing their affection, but a lot of people were like that. Live and let live. He tried to think back to the first day he’d met Kyle--everything between then and now. Anything that might suggest he’d figured Kyle Davis all wrong. Nothing. But then, Travis had never looked for it. None of it was supposed to matter; until this very moment, it likely never occurred to Travis Beltnick that his sexual orientation might bother someone who it had nothing to do with. And, as stupid as that sounded to him now, he still believed that was the way things were supposed to be, and therefore he couldn’t get past seeing it as true.

He was so distracted, so busy trying to sort out his own thoughts and feelings that Travis didn’t even realize that he wasn’t alone, and he was startled when Aiden Knightly sat down next to him. He was dressed sloppily--for Aiden, anyway. His jeans were ripped and his shirt was a little too big while his dark hair was tied back, a few strands falling around his face. He looked like he’d just taken an afternoon nap, but Travis doubted Aiden had been sleeping since he and Kyle walked through the front door.

Aiden didn’t shy away from looking at Travis pointedly, but only spoke when Travis didn’t. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Travis suddenly felt a little wary. He wasn’t interested in spending any amount of time with anyone else likely to yell at him today. “You heard all that?”

Aiden shrugged. “Yep. I think I got it.”

Travis took in a breath. “Okay, last night Owen...”

“I meant, do you want to talk about what just happened with Kyle?” Aiden gently interrupted.

Surprised, and oddly feeling as if he’d just been let off the hook for something, Travis smiled humorlessly. “I don’t know what just happened with Kyle.”

“I think you just came out.”

Travis thought about those words for a second, gave Aiden a funny look... and then he laughed. He couldn’t seem to help himself as he sank back against the couch, finding something entirely hysterical about the entire situation. For Aiden’s part, he only waited patiently, looking bemused and perhaps a little concerned.

“You can’t come out when you were never in to begin with,” Travis explained.

“Kyle didn’t seem to know.”

Travis shook his head. “That’s because it’s not supposed to matter. Never hid it from him. Never hid it from anyone.”

“And I’ve never seen you dancing with any guys at the club,” Aiden said quietly.

“I don’t remember any asking,” Travis said just as easily. “So--what? I’m supposed to flaunt my business? I don’t exactly fit into the category when it comes to serious relationships, you know. If I did, sure, maybe Kyle would have figured things out sooner, but that doesn’t mean I’m in the wrong for not shouting it off the rooftops.”

“So if you were with someone... being public about it wouldn’t be a problem?” Aiden asked. He was beginning to sound curious. Travis thought about that for a moment.

“Not for me,” he finally said. “But if I’m with someone who it is a problem for, I don’t see where I’d have the right to throw their business into the streets. And why should it matter, anyway? I like guys. It’s not like I get all offended about him liking girls.”

Aiden actually smiled. Travis did make sense. Only, he also seemed oblivious to reality when it came to the sensitivities of others. “Don’t get me wrong... I think I like the way you think. Unfortunately, not everyone has evolved as much as you. I think you’d understand if you ever had to hide it... how could you have not ever had to hide it?”

Travis shrugged. “Why should I have to?”

“Hmm... I dunno,” Aiden said, his tone turning sarcastic. “Maybe because coming out can be a good way to make enemies... lose friends. Ha! John Gordon. You work for him--would you ever, in a million years...”

“I’ll call him right now if you think I won’t,” Travis interrupted. “Of course, if I tell him about my sex life he might start telling me about his and I’m not so sure... well, I could do without that.”

Aiden looked at Travis for a long moment, incredulous. Incredulous because he didn’t doubt him. Finally he just shook his head. “Look, I’m sure Kyle will come around.”

Travis seemed hopeful. “You think?”

Aiden shrugged. “When Owen came out, one of his friends did the same thing.”

“Did he come around?”

“Actually,” Aiden said, frowning at himself for using the example, “no... not really. Adam never could get past it. He tried, it just didn’t work out too well--but, Kyle’s not Adam.”

“It’s not like he doesn’t hang out with enough queers to get over it,” Travis added, deciding to cheer himself up.

“Well...” Aiden said slowly.

“Well what?”

“Kyle’s a little homophobic.”

Travis frowned. “Seriously. Is this really your best effort at making me feel better?”

Aiden smiled at him. “Sorry... I just meant, you probably freaked him out. What he said to you just now, it was wrong.”

“Yeah it was,” Travis agreed.

“But you should probably forgive him.”

Travis turned in his seat and met Aiden’s eyes. Then he smiled. “Thank you.” Travis didn’t know what to say other than that, because really, the only thing he was sure of at the moment was that Aiden Knightly had sat down with the intention of being a friend. The thought alone had Travis’s eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Let me ask you something. Why is it... that you’re not all over my shit right now because of Owen? Did you... see?”

Aiden shook his head, his expression growing somewhat somber as he turned his eyes away from Travis. “I was home last night.”

“And hearing that didn’t bother you?”

Aiden sighed, and Travis had his answer. “You should probably forgive him,” Travis remarked, and when Aiden met his eyes, amused at hearing his own words, Travis shrugged. “And me, too... do you need to forgive me?”

Aiden seemed to think on that for a moment, and then shook his head before turning curious. “You said you would have stopped him. Why?”

For that, Travis laughed out loud. “Are you kidding me? He’s as off-limits as you are. I’d rather run through hell with an ass full of gasoline than get between the games you two are playing.”

***

Dennis sighed as his cell phone chirped at him. With his fingers burning from the cold outside, he lifted it long enough to see the number before sliding it back into his pocket. Travis again. That was the third time now, and Dennis wanted to answer even more than he had the last two. He’d been surprised to get the call so soon. After all, he’d seen Travis just that morning. But, each time the phone rang, and each time Dennis looked at Travis’s number, he found one reason or another that this just wasn’t the best time.

He leaned back against the padded seat, feeling safe in the shadows of the Happy Fiesta where a light had gone out above his corner table. Most of the restaurant was filled with families; parents unwilling to cook a meal after a long day’s work had marched their kids inside for a reprieve of cheap greasy food and a friendly atmosphere.

Dennis wasn’t feeling all that friendly. The scent of spicy sauces, fried foods and grilled-up meat assaulted his nostrils, and a cold draft every time someone new entered the restaurant sent a cold chill up his spine. He hadn’t come for the atmosphere of chattering children, and since he hadn’t had the slightest appetite upon entering, he hadn’t come for the food.

Dennis had seen his father today.

That morning, he’d meant to drop Travis off quickly. He’d pulled into the dealership, and as he thought back on it now, he realized that it was the first time that he’d gotten anywhere near that lot without bitter memories of his past creeping up heavily over his shoulders; the first time his stomach hadn’t twisted and churned at the thought of coming face to face with disagreeable members of his own family. It was strange that the trouble of it all had never even occurred to him. But it would from now on.

When John Gordon had stepped out in front of his car, there were no words exchanged. Dennis wondered if words would have been better. All day now he’d been troubled by the look on his father’s face; that challenging gaze. To Dennis, his father’s eyes had seemed cruelly teasing, as if the old man believed that Dennis had come for no other reason than to lay eyes on him. It was all very insulting. There had been a knowingness in John Gordon’s expression that told exactly what he thought of Dennis’s obvious discomfort. He had a pussy of a son.

It seemed ironic, and a little more than irrational: the fact that Dennis had walked into the Happy Fiesta to prove to his father that he didn’t give a damn. That he was indifferent. The fact that he was there to begin with proved that neither of those reasons was true, but he wasn’t ready to acknowledge it.

Even while his eyes drifted towards the cash register at the front counter only sparingly, he’d developed a constant sense of what was happening there, just across the room from him. And what was happening annoyed the hell out of him.

Honestly, he didn’t know what he’d expected. He only knew that he was angry. The look from his father, the one he’d been faced with that morning had him feeling low all day. He supposed that showing up here was his way of wanting to get even. He’d surprised John Gordon once by showing up at the job he’d rather have kept to himself. Subconsciously, and maybe a little consciously, too, Dennis thought that showing up again might completely unnerve the old man.

Unfortunately for Dennis’s sense of revenge, John Gordon was proud to a fault, even in a frighteningly ridiculous uniform. And all Dennis was proving to himself was that he was a coward, since he hadn’t so much as made his presence known. He was the one unnerved, wondering whether or not his father had noticed him. He wasn’t sure which possible answer bothered him more.

Telling himself he was brave for it, Dennis finally stood and headed for the counter. Of course, this was after his father had disappeared into the kitchen, and had been gone for at least five minutes. He had no intention of leaving the restaurant, though. He’d left his coat at the table, insuring that it would still be his when he returned. It was, only two minutes later when he sat down with his tray of three tacos and a drink that was never meant to fit into even the most generous of drink carriers.

Dennis hadn’t really intended to eat. He was just tired of sitting at an empty table. But with food in front of him, the scent becoming potent as he sipped the drink, Dennis only thought it natural to nibble. He discovered he was starving on his first bite. He had to have been--the food actually tasted good. It made sense, too, he realized. He’d grabbed half of one of Mrs. Chesley’s egg sandwiches that morning on the way out the door. He’d lost interest after two bites and Travis had taken over the task of eating it, along with his own. Then, all through lunch Dennis had organized the shelves in the book store that had taken him on for most of the day. He’d volunteered his break for it, too troubled from seeing his father to stop and think normal, non-work-related thoughts. Not even for a little while. Working was mindless. Eating was mindless, too, because as he started on his second taco, he nearly forgot where he was, his only concern being his demanding stomach.

In retrospect, Dennis probably should have remembered his other concerns.

With the ceiling light above him out, the shadow suddenly cast over his table made him feel as if someone had shut the door on his little corner. It felt dark, he felt smothered. Looking up with a mouth full of crunchy taco, Dennis’s mouth was suddenly too dry to swallow without assistance from his drink, which he grabbed at quickly. Straw in his mouth, cold perspiration from the plastic cup wetting his hand, he never removed his eyes from John Gordon’s face.

The old man looked too damn calm. Too casual. He hardly glanced at Dennis as he pulled out the second seat at the table, dropped a tray of taco salad, and took a seat to devour it. Fork moving from his plate to his mouth, John Gordon’s eyes moved steadily in Dennis’s direction every other bite. Unfazed. Unyielding. Unimpressed.

Dennis didn’t attempt a cold stare of his own, which would have made normal people flee across the room. Would have been pointless on John Gordon, and they both knew it. So instead, Dennis tried to focus on not appearing so wary. He even took another bite of his taco, though his eyes still didn’t leave his father as they waited for the old man to say something. John didn’t. Wouldn’t. He’d sit there, and eat his meal. He’d act as if he didn’t have a care in the world as he threw it in Dennis’s face that he did know he was there, and he didn’t give a damn about it. He knew it would drive his youngest son crazy, and Dennis knew that John knew it.

Dennis didn’t want to admit it, but he would be the one destined to cave in first. He didn’t see a point in delaying as he swallowed the bite he’d just taken. “What do you want?”

John Gordon took another bite of his food, and then dropped his fork to bring a napkin to his mouth. “Where’ve you been working?” That was his response. He wouldn’t answer Dennis’s question because he’d already dismissed it. As Dennis knew, this wasn’t because the man didn’t want to come up with an answer. It was because he found the question itself useless. Not worth the effort to ask. What did he want? Dennis could practically read his father’s thoughts. You’re the one who came in here, boy. You’re the one that came looking for me. You’re the one that wants something.

What Dennis wanted was for his old man to choke on the next bite he took. Nothing Dennis did was good enough. Not even the words that came out of his mouth were good enough. That’s why he was quick to become wary of the question his father presented.

“Nowhere,” Dennis replied, his voice cold in a way he couldn’t help. He’d said it more because he didn’t think it was necessary for his father to know where he’d been, what he’d been up to. But, the instant the word left his mouth, Dennis knew it was a mistake. It left room for plenty of disapproval. Disappointment. And that’s exactly what he got.

“Suppose so,” John said easily. “You’ve been up to a lot of bullshit with those crap jobs of yours. It’s a waste.”

Dennis tensed, and quickly chose to ignore the fact that his father had just subtly told him that he knew exactly what he’d been up to. If Dennis started in on it, he’d only lose his temper. That would make him look like an ass, and he wanted it to be very clear that the only ass at the table was the man sitting across from him. “A waste like you working here?” Dennis countered. He’d meant it as a jab, but his confidence in the remark faded quickly when he realized he’d inadvertently given his father a compliment. Even if John didn’t notice, Dennis did, and it severely bothered him.

“You’re supposed to be in school. Making something of yourself,” John said, again ignoring what Dennis had to say.

“I’ll never be what you want me to be,” Dennis stated. “I’m making a point of it.”

John met his eyes suddenly, and then he laughed. “Right. Because your parents wanting what’s best for you has ruined your life.”

“Best for me?” Dennis sneered. “Like when you would have rather seen me end up a cripple than quit a game?”

A strange, perhaps wistful expression touched John’s face. “Maybe when it came to your future I could be... overzealous. But you used to want what I wanted for you, too. Can’t say you didn’t love the game.”

“No,” Dennis said stiffly. “When it was just a game. You took that away from me and never let me forget it. Now, I don’t wanna be anything like you. I don’t even want to be anything you want me to be. I figure if I’m a disappointment, I must be doing something right.” Dennis paused, not liking the way that his own words hurt... they were supposed to hurt his father. That’s what he wanted. In that moment, he wanted nothing more. “So am I doing something right, dad? Or do I need to mention I just made employee of the month at the woman’s shoe store?”

A wry smile crossed John Gordon’s lips as he looked down at what was left of his meal. He seemed to be having a silent debate on whether or not to finish it. Ultimately, he seemed to lose his appetite as he tossed his used napkins over the top of it and stood, his shadow casting the table into darkness once again.

“If you start wearing those shoes--I imagine you get an employee discount?--come by again. Maybe I’ll be able to give you more of what you want, then.” He started to turn away from the table, but then paused, taking a moment to decide if he wished to leave one more thought with his son. Obviously, he decided that he would. “You blame me for how fucked up you think things are all you want, boy. It’s no skin off my back. But once you were happy. Liked where your unfit parents were pushing you to go. It would do you good to remember that.”

Dennis held his breath as John went back to work. It was the only thing that prevented him from speaking, and speaking wouldn’t be good just now. Dennis had nothing clever to say. Plenty of cursing he was sure he could manage, but nothing clever.

He sat there fuming with his unfinished meal in front of him, and quickly lost track of time. He wanted to walk out of there. Knew he should as the crowds thinned. But he wouldn’t do it. His father never appeared to be watching, but Dennis could feel his gaze. He refused to run away from John Gordon. He refused to give the man any reason to think that he was a sissy. A pussy. Or any other word the old man might be waiting to call him.

And then Dennis’s drink was gone, his bladder protesting, and he was ready to get out of there as he should have over an hour ago. He chose the moment his father disappeared into the kitchen when the shift manager half his age told him to get on the drive-thru. Dennis picked up his tray, turned his knees out from under the table... and he didn’t go anywhere.

Without notice, a tall body slid into the seat across from him, dark, narrow eyes settled calmly in his direction.

“What are you doing here, Travis?”

Unlike John Gordon, Travis Beltnick didn’t seem too interested in ignoring Dennis’s question. The amused smile that slid lazily over his face told Dennis that he had every intention of answering.

“Actually... your dad called me. Said some loser was giving him the evil eye. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

If Dennis wasn’t suddenly so incredulous, he would have scowled. “Are you playing his bodyguard now?”

“Nah. It just sounded better than staying home since I have nothing better to do. See, this guy I wanted to hang out with tonight refuses to return my calls.”

Dennis’s eyes narrowed, a frown touching his mouth as he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms, no longer interested in going anywhere. He ignored Travis’s comments and issued a confident challenge. “So are you gonna try to drag me out of here?”

Travis leaned across the table, stretching his arms and grinning. “Me?” he asked innocently. “No. I’m gonna go order one of those burritos with the green chili. Then I’m gonna sit down at this table and eat it... and then I’ll ask you if you wanna get the hell out of here, because there are so many better ways for you to spend your time.