I looked up, “Oh no.” I groaned. There was a tailback of traffic as far as the eye could see.
Dad patted my knee, “It’ll be fine, son. I know a short-cut.”
Well they were famous last words... Dad turned off and headed in the completely wrong direction. I looked around at the unfamiliar streets, “Where are we going, Dad?” I asked in mild panic.
“Your father knows these streets like the back of his hand…” Mum piped up proudly from the back seat.
I snorted as we passed a road sign, “Then why are we headed for Birmingham, right now?” I muttered. Seriously? Asking for help from Dad was sometimes a real challenge.
He grinned and patted my knee reassuringly, “I’ll loop back on the ring road, son. Don’t worry.”
I tried my best to relax. I still had twenty minutes, after all…
We pulled up at the traffic lights and somehow or other, Dad managed to stall the engine. I glared at him. “Are you freaking serious,right now?” I snapped, beginning to lose any remaining patience I was managing to hold on to...
Seth looked at me warily, “Hey, San Antonio.” He said, “How are you?”
I nodded, “I’m good…” I flashed a smile, “Freezing, but good.” It was December and the snow had come early, which was great for business because it turned the marina shopping precinct into a perfect winter-wonderland but having to work outdoors most of the day wasn’t really my idea of a fun time.
He nodded, “Well, this is awkward.” He said, huffing an embarrassed laugh.
I chuckled along with him, all embarrassed, too. “Yeah.” I agreed, “Shall we uh, shall we go and get a drink or something? I could do with something to warm me up. I’m supposed to be cleaning the glass all around the café.” I rolled my eyes, “But I’m likely to get stuck to it in these temperatures rather than get it clean.”
“Jeez,” Seth murmured, “Don’t you guys ever get a day off?”
I shook my head, “Nope.” I said with a laugh, “Even in sub-zero temperatures, we all have to do our chores.”
He fell into step beside me, “Have you thought any more about uh, summer camp?” he asked quietly.
My insides froze. I stopped, “Please.” I said, glancing around nervously, “Don’t. Not here.”
He stood in front of me, “Where, then?” he asked, “Because I’m going crazy here, thinking about it.”
“Treehouse?” I suggested, “It’s right up there in the tree, no one’s evergonna hear us talking up there.”
He looked at the treehouse, “Whose bedroom is that, right behind it?” he asked sceptically.
I snorted, “That’s El Paso’s room – he’s always got his head in a book. He never notices anything– and besides, it’s like, minus five degrees out here. He’ll never have his window open in this weather.”
Seth grinned, “Cool.” He said.
I was just about to get ready for bed when another text came through.
I scrambled to a sitting position and fumbled for my phone.
All the tension I’d been feeling seemed to just drain away as I read the message.
“Are you still awake?”
I grinned and typed out an immediate reply, “Of course I am.”
“Good. Listen, can I call you instead of texting? I’m not a fan of getting writers’ cramp. I’ve got a better use for my right hand.”He sent an emoji of an aubergine and two laughing faces.
I shook my head. Chuckling to myself I sent back a smiley face. Seconds later, my screen lit up with a picture of El Paso pulling a silly face. I had no idea when he’d added that to my phone but it made me laugh all the same. “Hey, El.” I said.
His breathy voice came through loud and clear, "Lyle!" He exclaimed in a hushed whisper, "There's been a development."
My steps faltered in my stilettos as I heard my mother’s voice from one of the upstairs windows. Dammit. What now? If she saw the top I was wearing, I’d be dragged back by my multicoloured wig before I could even take my drag name in vain…
I turned, checking my phone as I did so. The girls were waiting for me…
Mum was stood on the balcony of her bedroom and I could almost see the steam coming out of her ears. I smiled, “Yes?” I asked as sweetly as I could.
“Get back here and put some clothes on!” she yelled, “You’re ten times worse than Georgia was at your age!”
I rolled my eyes. “But Mum.” I whined, “Georgia’s a girl.”
She glowered, “And what the hell do you think you’re dressed as?” she snarled.
Damn it. The woman had a point. I did look a little like a hooker… “Right!” I retorted as dramatically as could pull off, “I’ll put the goddamn jeans and trainers on and totally ruin the lewk,” my voice had risen in frustration and I was now practically screaming at her, “but I’m taking them off and changing into my hot pants and these incredibly hot boots as soon as I get there, so what’s the point?”
The boots were fabulous. They were a shiny, silver thigh-high number with stiletto heels. They were a gift from my fairy drag mother, Honey-Rose Delmonte, who was a queen I followed avidly and had met on a few occasions, and I absolutely loved them – and I absolutely loved Honey-Rose, too; she was a total darling and had asked me to follow her, doing a bit of a vlog and I’d had the most amazing response. Within six weeks I’d attracted more than three hundred thousand followers on Instagram and this outfit had had more than a thousand likes in the first minute of me uploading it earlier.
Still, my followers had no idea that my mother could still ground me until I was about a hundred and fifty years old and so, I was now standing in front of the balcony, my hands on my hips and tapping the toe of my fabulous thigh-high, boots impatiently.
I blinked at Jon, the guy who owned the bar, “Huh?” I asked stupidly.
He raised an eyebrow, “You’re not gonna go all moony-eyed on me about the new guy, are you?” he asked.
I shook my head, “No, sir.” I said, feeling my face reddening. Jon knew I was gay and he didn’t half love to rib me about it. Not in an unkind way… Well, not really. “I’ll go and ask him.”
He chuckled, “Ask him to go surfing with you tomorrow.” He said, “He might surprise you and agree.”
Fat chance of that. I’d seen him pushing a buggy with a little boy in it that was the spitting image of him. He was definitely the baby’s dad. There was no way he’d be interested in me. I huffed a laugh, “Sure, sure.” I said, “Jog on.”
Jon raised an eyebrow, “He’s single.” He said, “He told me.”
I rolled my eyes, “he needs to be a bit more than single to want to date me.” I said, “I might be pretty but I’m a guy, or hadn’t you noticed?”
He rolled his eyes, “And he’s not into girls.” He replied in a voice that sounded as if he was talking to a stupid person, “so, just ask him.”
No way… It was too embarrassing. Jon had to have got it wrong. The guy was straight, he was sure of it…
The door to the cellar flew open a few minutes later and a slightly breathless and sweaty looking Dallas manoeuvred himself into the bar, carrying a crate of bottles to restock the fridges. “Slade,” Jon barked, “Give the boy a hand.”
Jeez. Did he have to make it so damned obvious that I was interested? Or maybe it wasn’t obvious to Dallas at all. Maybe it was all in my head and the guy hadn’t even allowed me to invade his thoughts at all.
I tilted my chin towards him in acknowledgement, “Want some help?” I muttered.
He shrugged, “I’ve got it if you’re busy.” He said, “But if I could leave an hour early…” he scratched his neck nervously, “My babysitter just called…”
“Sure.” I jumped in. Anything that gave him that haunted look was something I could definitely help with – not least to never see it again. He was too beautiful to look that stressed out, “I’ll take over your stint at the bar – it’s not busy on a Tuesday anyway.”
He shot me a grateful smile that shook me to my core and made me wonder what the hell it was about him that had me going all squiffy over him. Whatever it was it was like magic – and I wanted more of it… “Thanks, man.” He said, “You’re a lifesaver.”
I grinned at him, “You’ve got a kid, huh?” I asked, “How old?”
He beamed with pride as he started talking about his son, “He’s eight months and he’s just started to stand up and walk around the furniture – it won’t be long and he’ll be walking around. Then I’ll really have to watch him.” He chuckled.
It sounded as if he had sole responsibility of him the way he spoke about it. “So, have you uh, got a girlfriend? Wife?”
He coloured up and shook his head, “No,” he said, “It’s just me and Starr.”
“Star?” I asked. Whoa. That was far out…
He smiled and nodded, “I’m a massive Beatles fan.” He said, “And it just suited him.”
“So, was there a girlfriend?”
He shook his head, “there was a girl. She wasn’t really my girlfriend…. Well, she was but she wasn’t. It’s complicated. I’m not with her anymore. She didn’t want Starr or me – and so, she left.”
Well, that told me everything but nothing… Was he straight?
“Anyone since?” I asked. Yes. I was aware that I was asking far too many questions to say we’d only just spoken to each other today but I was way beyond curious. I was on Interested Highway, heading straight for Besotted Boulevard...
No comments:
Post a Comment