Rue

“Sharp,” Connor commented, a grin on his face as he tipped his head to indicate my shirt, but fortunately that was all he had to say about it. Explaining that one to Ethan had been bad enough.

Though it hadn’t really been bad at all. Not when it actually came down to it. He hadn’t seemed to mind that I’d gotten myself all worked up about something he could barely comprehend. He’d chosen kindness first and left understanding as an optional side project—not something actually required to accept how I was feeling.

I might’ve got on one knee right then and there if I thought that would mean I could keep him. I didn’t care that he was strange and complicated and we kept misunderstanding each other. Hell, the first two were kind of positives in my book. But he cared about me, and that was precious. 

The restaurant didn’t take itself quite as seriously as I’d feared, the soft lighting and bright decor giving the relatively small space a fun, cosy holiday vibe. Still, I didn’t see any threadbare hoodies or bright orange polos. Everyone else eating there tonight had made an effort to look nice.

But as I flipped through a menu, I realised I wasn’t out of the woods with embarrassing myself yet. I should’ve grabbed another twenty when I changed my shirt, but I was a little distracted.

Wendy’s hand gave the barest touch to Ethan’s shoulder to get his attention. “Let’s get drinks. Can you help me?”

Her voice was so soft and gentle that it might have been patronising, but I was pretty sure that was just how she spoke. Ethan didn’t seem bothered by it, anyway. He nodded and turned to me. “What drink do you want?”

“Uhh…” I said as I turned to the drinks menu then went back and skimmed through the meal prices again. “I’ll just have water.”

Ethan’s face scrunched in a frown, but he didn’t argue. His dad asked for a beer, which Ethan didn’t acknowledge at all before heading off towards the bar with Wendy.

I went back to scrutinising the menu. My twenty dollars could get me a single starter, side, or—just barely—a dessert. Which of those options would make me look the least weird? Would anyone raise an eyebrow if I just got a salad or a bowl of chips?

Connor gave me a kind smile. “What looks good?”

“With these prices?” I grumbled. “Climbing the cliffs and eating the fruit off the cactuses Ethan told me about.”

Connor let out a hearty laugh. “In winter? Good luck with that. Don’t worry about the prices, though. It’s on me.”

“I’d be kind of a dick if I stopped caring because you’re paying.”

Connor dismissed the thought with a flap of his hand. “Nah. A problem I can solve that easy is a rare treat. When Ethan was twelve, he disappeared. Turned back up a couple of hours later with groceries he bought with his own money and told me he was going to cook for himself. He’ll solve his own problems before you even know there is one.”

“I don’t get why it’s a rare treat, then. Sounds like he makes things easy.”

“But that’s not me solving the problem, is it? I’m his dad. I don’t want him to be his own dad for me.”

I was pretty sure my own dad would’ve been happy if I could be my own dad and his, except for the part where he got to push me around. Hell, he expected me to buy the groceries, give him rent money. Maybe I already basically was his dad.

“Anyway, it’s good to see him making a friend,” Connor continued. “People don’t make friends with Ethan easily, you know—and they do try. Wendy’s over there right now trying, and he’ll be very polite with her, but she won’t get anywhere with him. You must be a very special person to have gotten through his shell like this.”

I could feel my face going red again, though not nearly as bad as it had with Ethan. Did Connor know his son liked guys? If he did, it should’ve been pretty obvious that I was nothing special. Cats could be solitary creatures too—until they smelled a queen in heat. Not that I thought Ethan was itching to get straight into my pants or anything, but the drive was the same even if we weren’t quite as quick to act on it.

We probably wouldn’t have enough time together to figure out if I could actually be anything special to him. Maybe that was better than having him slowly lose interest.

Before I could stammer out a denial of being in any way special, a glass was nudged in front of me as Ethan reclaimed his seat. I took a deep swallow to cover my awkwardness and almost choked on a surprise hit of carbonation and lemon.

Wendy let out a quiet laugh that didn’t hold the slightest hint of unkindness. “Ethan thought you might want Sprite, but we’ll have a jug of water for the table with dinner as well.”

I turned a searching look on Ethan, but he was busy sipping at his orange juice. Had he remembered that I had a Sprite with lunch yesterday?

Someone had made sure Connor got his beer, which was another tiny little bead of stress that was going to lurk at the back of my mind. If he drank too much, I didn’t care what anyone said. Unless Wendy drove, I was walking Ethan home.

When it came time to order, Ethan chose some kind of vegetable pasta dish, so I got the chicken pasta. They were some of the cheaper meals, and the prices were similar, so I didn’t think I was overstepping.

My first bite was a revelation. This was a whole new category of food to my taste buds. I’d had fast food, snack foods, raw fruit and veg, and a few simple things I’d thrown together myself, but this was something else entirely. It was a proper meal. Even back when my grandparents had still been in my life, I couldn’t remember them feeding me much more than two minute noodles. I probably wouldn’t have appreciated it if they had.

But I was a man who had been eating a diet of plain beans and rice, so I appreciated the creaminess of the sauce and the subtlety of the spices—or maybe herbs? I wasn’t completely sure what the difference was or which ones were in my pasta, but they were great.

Connor dominated the conversation, but that wasn’t a bad thing because someone had to. Wendy was quiet and soft spoken, Ethan didn’t seem to have much to say, and I honestly didn’t know what to do with myself. I felt like I’d stepped into a whole new life. A better one than I’d ever known, but still, I didn’t know how to play the role I’d been cast in. Wasn’t even really sure what role it was.

But it came with dessert, which my regular life did not, so I wasn’t complaining.

I’d watched Connor like a hawk through the first half of dinner as he sipped his beer, but once he’d finished it, he’d switched to water. I probably wouldn’t have been so tense about it if he’d been drinking wine or something—it was just that smell. The smell of my father.

I was a tiny bit jealous that Ethan had such a great dad, but mostly I was just glad. Just days from now, he’d go back to his normal life, and the only kind of peace I could find in that was that I knew he’d be safe and loved. 

After dinner, Ethan and I headed outside together while Connor and Wendy handled the bill. I drew a breath in through my teeth as the cold air instantly nipped at my skin. It was a good excuse to stand close to Ethan as we made our way down the stairs.

“So, uh, I’ve got work again tomorrow,” I said. “But I was thinking, maybe after I could come by and we could go for a walk or something? There’s a lookout up the hill from where you’re staying.”

“Okay,” Ethan said. The brush of his shoulder against mine chased away the cold more than body heat could explain. “I’ll make you that salad.”

“I’m so fucking full and that still sounds great.”

We reached the bottom of the stairs and I cast my eyes around the parking lot, across the pool. Just for a moment, we were alone. I took Ethan’s hand and tugged him under the overhang of the building, where people sat and ate near the pool during the day. I didn’t hold onto him as I leant in slowly. He could’ve moved away if he wanted to.

He leant in instead.

Soft, warm lips. The slightest taste of orange juice. It only lasted a second, three beats of my racing heart, but as I pulled away his lips chased mine like he was magnetised. I leant back in, our breaths mingling, but then the sounds of the restaurant upstairs became louder as the door opened and I knew our time was up.

That was my first kiss. Was it his too? If he kept to himself as much as his dad said, it probably was. Maybe the lookout would have been a more romantic setting for it than a stolen moment in the shadows, but if I had another moment, I’d do it all again.

But I didn’t have another moment, because when we stepped out from under the overhang, Connor and Wendy were already halfway down the stairs. Half our moments together were already gone. We’d met on Monday, it was Wednesday now, and Ethan was leaving Sunday morning.

Fingers tangled with mine and in an instant my gaze jumped from Ethan’s hand now in mine, to his face, to Connor coming down the stairs. Alarm crashed through me, because what if?—but then Connor let out a hearty, good-natured laugh.

“See?” Connor said, nodding in my direction. “Guilty face.”

“Connor, be nice,” Wendy chided gently as Ethan turned to contemplate my face, his own pinching in consideration. I did my best to school my expression into one of perfect neutrality, but I was pretty sure I was going red again.

“I’m nice,” Connor insisted as they reached the bottom of the stairs. He slapped a hand down on my shoulder and I flinched reflexively, expecting it to hurt, but he hadn’t hit me hard. Great, now I just looked jumpy.

Connor frowned, giving my shoulder another couple of gentler pats before pulling away. “It’s been great getting to know you, Reuben. We were thinking about a day trip to the island on Saturday. Want to come?”

“Uhh…” I looked to Ethan for his input, but he offered nothing but a swing of our joined hands. Technically I was supposed to be working on Saturday, but I’d already been planning to get the day off if Ethan wanted to hang out. “Yeah, sounds fun.”

He beamed. “Great! I’ll book the tickets, so don’t worry about that.”

I was too embarrassed to offer more than a murmured, “Thanks.” I hadn’t really thanked him for dinner, either. I’d have paid for both of those things if he hadn’t, but the combined cost would have set my savings back by months.

I’d been to Fischer Island exactly once, even though it was close enough to see from the beach. It had been a school trip when I was eight, and my dad’s parents had paid for it because I’d begged. I didn’t remember much from the trip. I did remember realising I shouldn’t ask them for so much because it was just one more thing for them to fight with my dad about.

They didn’t like that he’d drop me off and then sometimes not pick me up again for days. They called the police to find him once when it went on for too long, and then they made a rule that I could only visit if he stayed the whole time as well. After that, he decided there wasn’t much point in me visiting them at all. If they’d minded, I never found out about it.

My dad had torpedoed my relationship with my other set of grandparents not long before that. They’d been taking me to church, and he didn’t like it. But by the time all this happened, I’d been old enough to be left home alone, so it hadn’t really mattered. At least not to my dad.

Both sets of grandparents had lived in Warrinbar, and I’d managed not to run into any of them over the years—or at least not until enough time had passed that we wouldn’t have recognised each other. Sometimes I’d look at someone around the right age with hair like my mum’s mum or eyes like me and my dad and think—maybe? But then I’d look away, because I’d been rejected too many times to give someone a second go at it.

Honestly, I hadn’t thought I’d be so keen to give anybody a go at it, especially since this situation came with its own scheduled heartbreak regardless of how either of us felt about it, but Ethan’s hand was warm in mine and I wanted him more than I wanted to not get hurt.

Ethan led me into the car by our joined hands and he ended up sitting in the middle seat, pressed close against my side. The warmth of his body against mine was like a hot shower on a cold day or sunshine on chilled skin. I wanted to press my face against the side of his head and breathe him in, but that probably would have been a bit much with dad flicking glances at us in the rearview mirror.

This time, I pointed Connor to my apartment building to drop me off. No one commented on the switch. It was probably a good thing that Ethan pulled back when the car came to a stop, because I didn’t know if I would’ve had the strength to be the one to let go first.

I said my thank yous and my goodbyes, and then I headed upstairs to sit in a cold apartment and watch TV until I fell asleep.