by Talya Andor
"Huh." The sound escaped Danice before she seemed to realize and she straightened on her chair, assuming a blank look.
Michelle nodded. "Thanks, Soren. That's enough." She made a final note on her clipboard and set it aside. After a moment, she sighed and set her plump hands on her knees and looked him right in the eye. "Please don't discuss this with the other baristas."
Soren's cheeks burned. He had the suspicion he'd been accused of putting his hand in the till. He didn't even normally use the cash register. And of course he wouldn't want to speak of this to anyone…except, perhaps, Lucas.
"I won't."
"All right." Michelle sighed and gave him a nod. "Go ahead and clock in. Danice…you need to get going, okay? You're overtime for today, we'll have you leave an hour early tomorrow. Now…"
Her voice tapered off in the distance and the grind of coffee beans filled Soren's ears as he hurried toward the front of the store. His face was hot and he was certain he'd been indirectly accused for something he didn't even know how to respond to. What was he supposed to do now, work side by side with Aaron?
Out on the floor, Aaron was seeing to a customer and grinding an order of beans. Soren approached Sloane, tapping her on the shoulder.
She turned, and socked him.
"Ow…" Soren rubbed at his arm. "What the hell was that for?"
"You ass, you haven't called me!" Sloane said in a seeming fury, but her eyes were twinkling. "I've left, like, five thousand messages at your house!"
"I know," Soren said. "My mom seems to think we were dating because of it. And must have been cheating on you because I wasn't there to take your calls."
Sloane pouted. "You've got to stop ignoring me off and on," she said, sidling past him to give him the bar. She clasped her hands together. "Well? How's it been going, you ass?"
"What happened to 'kid?'"
"I can't stay mad at you." She smiled and there was more than a touch of slyness to the expression. "I miss my study buddy, though I guess you've replaced me with someone handsomer."
"Shut up."
The back door swung open. "Sloane," Michelle said. "I'm going to put you in the bottom till until Lucas gets here, okay?"
Sloane blinked and slewed around. "All right. Soren's better at bar anyhow." She cast a glance over her shoulder, expression brimming with suppressed mirth and curiosity, then followed their manager into the back.
Humiliation made Soren flush again, an incredulous hot feeling spiking inside him. He knew without being told that the bottom drawer had originally been intended for him.
At the edge of vision he glanced at Aaron, who was handing a bag of coffee to a man in an overcoat. Soren marveled over his duplicity. He could hardly remember a time when Aaron had ever been nice to him. There had been a short time when Soren had first begun working at the store, he supposed. That had been a particularly stressful time, after the move and in the rush of preparation for his first year of college and missing the familiarity of his life in Eugene.
Danice left the back room and lifted a hand to him in a perfunctory wave as she departed. Her normally expressive face was schooled in impassive lines and that, more than anything, made Soren more nervous.
Aaron finished up with his customer and left the service island, going out onto the floor without giving Soren a second glance. A moment later, Soren jumped as the slim stainless steel milk and half-and-half containers were shoved up onto the portion of bar counter that the finished drinks were set.
"Fill those." Aaron turned back to tidying up the condiments bar.
Soren thought about flipping him off. After all, the super wouldn't see him from behind the bar and it was terribly tempting. The thought that someone other than Aaron seeing him was the only thing that stayed his hand. He was angry, and only part of it was for his half-formulated thought that Aaron had implicated him in something. Even more upsetting was the thought that Soren might have actually messed up his till. Cashiering wasn't his strongest suit, which was why he preferred to do the bar whenever his shift super was perceptive enough to realize the crew's strength.
Sloane returned from the back with Michelle and a till and they keyed her in. Once that was accomplished, Michelle announced she had paperwork to do before her shift ended, and withdrew to the back.
Soren sidled up to Sloane. Aaron was on the far side of the shop, wiping tables and picking up a few dirty dishes.
"Do you have the feeling something's going on?"
Sloane gave him a puzzled glance. "What? You mean, besides the thing you've got going on with Lucas?"
"Forget it." Soren shook his head. "I…it's been a long day. Did I tell you I came out to my mom?"
Sloane's eyes widened. "No wonder I haven't heard from you lately!" She grabbed his arm. "Tell me everything." Her sweet voice went steel-hard.
The afternoon passed swifter than Soren expected. Michelle left at around five-thirty, still looking grim as she passed through the shop without looking at anyone. Seven o'clock arrived, bringing Lucas with it. Aaron came to the floor at that point, taking Sloane and her till into the back room and giving Lucas a look of pure poison as they brushed past one another at the back room door.
"What crawled up his ass and died?" Lucas asked, leaning on the bar wall close to Soren.
"Oh…he's been just about the same as usual," Soren hedged, mulling over what he could tell Lucas in good conscience. "Maybe a bit worse. Danice stayed past her shift, she was here when I got in at three."
Lucas looked at him. "What's going on?" It wasn't unusual for someone to leave a shift early, but Michelle was tight about overtime.
Soren shrugged. "They asked me some questions." That much, he felt he could divulge.
"Oh? What about?"
"That I can't say."
Lucas let out a breath. "I see. Well, that's nervous-making."
Soren shrugged in apology.
"Maybe we're going to get in trouble because of that quickie in the back room," Lucas said, leaning in close so that his words didn't travel beyond they two, though there was perhaps one or two customers in the far end of the store.
Soren cuffed him. "We never did it back there." He must have used up his day's supply of flush already, because he was feeling no particular embarrassment.
"Well, now we might never get to."
"Hey."
They looked up. The back door had swung open without either of them noticing, and Aaron stood in the doorway with a mean set to his mouth. "You going to key in your till, Daye, or stand there chatting up the staff?" With that shot, he disappeared into the back again.
Lucas's fist clenched.
"Lucas." Soren reached out, catching himself before he touched Lucas's face. "Don't let him get to you." He should take some of his own advice.
"You are too good," Lucas murmured, leaning in so close that Soren feared he was going to kiss him, but then he turned abruptly. "Right. I'll be back."
Soren pressed fingers to his lips and wanted to shake his head. No. I'm not the good one.
Twelve
Work was opening slow and quiet for a Thursday morning. Lucas propped his butt against the stainless steel counter. All the morning, open chores had been performed, divided neatly between him and Danice. As they worked, Danice had regaled him with a full report on her night out clubbing and two pretty girls she'd nearly scored.
"That's sad," Lucas said, leaning back and bumping his elbow against one of the porta-filters. "Given up on Sloane finally, have you?"
"I'm not—Nice try, Lucas. So, what about you? Have you scored, lately?"
Lucas glanced at her from the corner of his eye. He was being tested; he could tell by the way her dark eyes were fixed on him, awaiting a response. "What do you mean, Danice? Have I gotten laid lately? Or have I hooked up with anyone?"
Danice shrugged. "Both. Either. You know what I mean, Lucas."
"Maybe I have," Lucas said. "You think you already know who it is, huh?" It might have been tipping his hand,
but he was feeling reckless. Something was going on in the store, and the undercurrent made him uneasy. What Soren had said about it the other day hadn't been nearly so interesting as the things he hadn't said.
"So it's true?" Danice palmed short bangs back away from her forehead. "You're dating Soren, aren't you?"
"You're the last person I need to say this to, but last time I checked, being gay isn't a crime." Lucas straightened from his relaxed pose. "So? There a problem?"
Danice's face creased in a considering expression. ""I've seen you with girls before. So, are you bisexual?"
"Yeah." Lucas gave her the no-nonsense look, that told her plainly he knew something was up and he wasn't going to budge. Not when it involved him and Soren both. "I'll say it again, is there a problem?"
"Well, I could say something like, 'it's a bad idea to have a relationship between co-workers,' but it's not my place to say something like that." Danice smiled. "I wouldn't say it anyhow."
"Not when you've got the hots for Sloane."
"Just make sure you keep doing your job as shift super, okay?"
"Huh." Lucas stared at her, then exploded. "Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? What exactly are you implying?"
"Calm down…" Danice widened her eyes at him and held up her hands. "Whoa, Lucas, calm down…"
"What did you mean by that? Is there something going on that I don't know about? Someone spreading nasty little rumors, maybe? Come on, have I ever given cause for you and Michelle to discipline me? This is unbelievable…"
"No one is accusing you…I'm sorry, Lucas. Look…I just wanted to warn you. Unofficially, okay?"
"If it was unofficial you should've mentioned something outside the store," Lucas muttered, rocking back and forth from his heels to the balls of his feet. His hands were clenched at his sides. "Who the hell said such a thing, Danice?"
"I'm sorry," Danice said, averting her eyes now. "I really shouldn't have brought it up."
Lucas chewed on an angry retort that he knew he couldn't say.
The front door whooshed open, and they moved into place to meet their first customer of the day.
*~*~*
The morning was just that extra little bit more difficult for Soren, with no Lucas to provide him with the warm incentive necessary to leave the bed. Soren managed. He curled up in front of his offline computer in a pair of tatty old track pants, one foot tucked under him, Sloane on the phone and a paper open on his monitor.
"What are you doing?" Sloane asked. She had wound down from her diatribe about her roommate's latest doings.
Soren tabbed between his paper and internet access, considering signing on yet again and having to remind himself that it didn't matter. Lucas would still be at work and Liz…well, he'd been avoiding Liz lately the more she'd continued the change the subject every time he mentioned anything to do with Lucas. "Multi-tasking. Can't you hear me typing?"
Sloane snorted. "Boring. Listen, Soren…I think something's going on at our store."
Soren went quiet and still, glad Sloane couldn't see his expression. "What do you mean?" he asked, afraid his voice was another kind of giveaway.
"Tia was telling me last night that they called her in to ask her about her cash-handling experience, and if she'd had any problems with any of the shift supervisors."
"That's probably why Michelle has been in a bad mood lately."
"Yeah, it was pretty black, wasn't it?" Sloane paused. "Wow…someone's in trouble, aren't they? Oh God…"
"It's okay," Soren assured her, while entertaining the sinking bodily sensation that it was very much not okay. He wondered if he was the first Michelle had called into the office, but he felt better knowing he wasn't the only one. "You've never had cash handling problems, and you're not a supervisor. I don't think you've got anything to worry about."
"I wonder who it is." Soren could picture Sloane, perched on her computer desk chair or perhaps sprawled on the bed, chewing at her bottom lip with an apprehensive look. "Oh, Soren…Soren, you've been a shift super before, haven't you?"
"Not at this store." But had that been why Michelle had questioned him?
"I wonder if…ooh, I wonder if Lucas will come under scrutiny," Sloane said, sounding worried now.
"You shouldn't jump to conclusions. I'm sure it's nothing. But if it is something, then you've got nothing to worry about."
"Ooh…I don't like this, Soren…what if they ask me questions next?"
Soren shifted in his chair, craning his neck. His door was part-way open and he thought he'd seen movement in the hallway. "You'll tell the truth, that's all there is to it."
"You make it sound disgustingly simple. Look, keep your schedule open, okay? I haven't seen you just for fun in forever and I'd like to do something soon."
Soren glanced at the calendar pinned to his desk. "I'll call," he promised. "Sometime soon? I know I've been spending all my time with Lucas lately, but I don't mean to ditch you."
"Better not," Sloane said pertly. "How are things, then?"
"Good," Soren said. He hesitated. "Really good, for the most part, except…sometimes he's kind of bossy? He gets a little overbearing, I don't know if he realizes he's doing it. He's probably used to doing everything his way, only child, and all that."
"So say something to him. You should be telling this to Lucas, not me."
"Yeah, I know," Soren mumbled, tugging at his earlobe. "I don't want Lucas to stop liking me, you know?"
"Okay, well, you know what to do. Ugh, and I don't know what to do. My hours are crazy between work and school and this internship I've applied for. I need my study buddy to keep me focused."
Soren laughed. "We'll schedule something soon."
"And Soren…If you need to talk, I'm always here for you, you know?"
"I know. I think I need to go…I'll see you later."
"Right, later." The line clicked off.
Soren thumbed his phone off and chewed on a thumbnail for a moment, staring off into space. He didn't know what to do about work, but then, it seemed there was nothing to do. He'd answered Michelle's questions to the best of his ability, truthfully, and hadn't volunteered anything extra. The fact that Tia had been questioned too, meant that it wasn't a problem specific to Soren, at least not necessarily. He could breathe a little easier.
Instead of being reassured, Soren recalled Aaron's smirking face, and his comment about not bothering to don his apron. Soren's fist tightened hard enough to put his phone in jeopardy. He set it down.
A soft knock made his partly-open door swing wider and Soren looked up, scrubbing his hand on his faded track pants. "Come in," he called, and the door was already swinging open.
Claire poked her head around the door, looking apologetic. "Soren?"
"Did I forget one of my chores?" he asked. They'd been keeping most of their conversation to the basics lately.
"No…um…you didn't forget anything this morning," she replied, entering and holding onto the doorknob like a lifeline. She was dressed for work—a gray pinstriped suit, white blouse, hair knotted at her nape—but it was the middle of the day.
"Wait, what are you doing home? It's Thursday."
"Parent-teacher conferences. I came home from work because I forgot the schedule, and I have some time before I need to be at the school. Can I sit?"
Soren gestured silently to the bed, knowing he was acting a little cold, not quite caring.
Claire seated herself on the edge of the bed. "I didn't get a chance to talk to you when you got in last night—"
"Yeah. I didn't really want to talk."
Claire's mouth thinned, but she looked down at her lap. She was twisting her fingers together, forefinger and thumb rubbing her wedding ring back and forth. "Please give me a chance, Soren."
"You didn't give Lucas much of a chance."
"Soren!"
"What? You going to say it's not true? You going to say you haven't had time to get to know him first? You were the one who wanted to invite
him to dinner, Mom! I wouldn't have agreed if I'd known it was going to be like that."
"Soren…" Claire bit her lip and tried again. "Soren, I'm sorry. I-I just…give me some time, okay?"
"All right," Soren replied. There wasn't a whole lot of choice he had in the matter and he felt she was asking for form's sake. "Did you have to ask him all those questions?"
"W-What do you mean?"
Soren began to tick off points on his fingers. "How long have you been dating, are you Catholic, what do your parents think about it, why did you go and turn my son gay—"
"I didn't ask him that!"
"Maybe not…but you were acting as if you wanted to."
Claire drew herself up. "Look, if I act concerned for your well-being it's because I'm your mother."
"I know. And I also know you didn't put those kinds of questions to the boys that Angie and Cassie have dated."
"It's not the same thing at all!"
"Why not?"
"Because you're…because you're…"
"Gay?" Soren supplied.
"My oldest, my son," Claire said, clasping her hands together tightly in her lap. There were bright spots of color high on each cheek.
"Your gay son."
"Soren!" She sat up straighter, as if irreproachable posture could make her position stronger. Her eyes sought his, sparkling with suppressed anger. "Why do you have to say it like that? Why can't you…you…" She fell silent before Soren could interject anything and pressed the heel of a palm below one eye, as though trying to ward off a pinpoint headache.
"Why can't I be normal?"
Claire shook her head slowly from side to side. "I did not come in here to have this kind of discussion with you," she said, collecting herself. "I'm concerned for you, Soren. You've only been seeing this boy for a couple of months, he said it himself."
"I've known him much longer than that." Soren threaded his hands together, placing them loosely on one knee. "Besides, Mom…at some point you're going to start trusting my judgment."