Broken Hero

We don’t have to wait long before he shows up. He’s wearing a wide smile and nods to the bartender. His lips are easy to read. The usual. I rise out of my seat to make sure Gavin doesn’t make it to his.

I block him off with an arm on the bar. His eyebrows rise in surprise, but he doesn’t blanch.

“Morris.”

“Evening, Whittaker.” I make my voice low, smooth. “Here to grab a drink?”Content © NôvelDrama.Org.

“Yes.” Gavin’s eyes narrow slightly, and I’m sure he knows my game. “Care to join?”

I smile-baring my teeth. “Oh, yes. I’d love to hear more about the rumors you’ve spread this weekend.”

“Rumors? I just tell it the way I see it.”

I nod, pretending to play along. “You’re nothing if not a man of truth. What was it you were suspended for back in school? Cheating on your end-of-year exam?”

He shakes his head, a mocking smile on his lips, but I can read the expression in his eyes. He’s furious. “Water under the bridge.”

“I’m sure. As is the time you tried to sabotage the varsity basketball team’s try-outs for the college reps. What was it that time? You tied my shoe-laces together, right?”

Gavin’s face flushes, and I can’t help but grin. “Didn’t think I knew about that? You’ve been snapping at my heels for as long as I can remember. I just haven’t given you the time of the day until now, because quite frankly, you haven’t been worth it.”

He shakes his head, mouth pursed. “You’re so fucking full of yourself, Morris. You always have been. Did you enjoy being the only thing anyone spoke about for a decade? You must have, since you keep walking around this town like you’re some sort of hero.”

I take a step closer. “And what does that make you? Because from where I’m standing, you’ve only ever been an asshole. What did you say to Lucy yesterday?”

“Why don’t you ask her, if you two are so close?”

“Tell me. I won’t ask you again.”

He rolls his eyes, like this is beneath him, but I can see the beading of sweat on his forehead. My admissions rattled him-as I intended them to. He didn’t like being reminded of his childhood envy.

“I told her the truth. That you were with her because it was easy… and all of us here know that. I told her that if she was with me, she would’ve at least gotten paid.” He shoots me a sideways glance. “That’s more than I can say for you.”

I’m angry-I’m fucking furious-but I’m in full control. I warned him about this the first time, all those weeks ago, and he didn’t listen.

“I think I’ve tolerated you for far too long.”

“Oh?””The one hurting from this situation isn’t going to be me, and it sure as hell won’t be Lucy. It’ll be you. How do you think this will go down in the long-run, huh? Will people remember you fondly for talking shit?”

“She’ll be out of this town before the end of the year.”

“We’ll see about that. But you?” I straighten to my full height, grateful for the three inches I have on the sucker. “You forget your place.”

“How dare you-”

I punch him.

It’s a swift, calculated movement. I aim straight for his cheekbone and skim across his nose. It won’t break bone, but it’ll teach him a lesson. And man, does it feel sweet.

Gavin staggers back. “What the fuck! I don’t-”

“I should have done that a long, long time ago,” I say. “Stay far away from Lucy, from my family, my ranch, and if you know what’s good for you, this bar too.”

What is there to do but keep going?

I might feel like I have a ball of nerves in my stomach, but life doesn’t stop. You get up, you have a shower, you do your hair, and then you try not to think about it. Not about the fact that you’re the talk of the town, and you definitely don’t think about how you’re on the outs with the man who might very possibly be the love of your life. Ignoring your problems is a foolproof strategy.

When has that ever gone wrong?

I head down to the bakery on Monday morning with my hair in an elaborate bun and a bright smile on my face. But despite my best efforts, my charade doesn’t fool my family. My aunt slips an arm around my waist half-way through the morning preparations. “Sweetie, how do you feel? Still ill?”

I shake my head. I had to fake a stomach ache yesterday to explain why I ran away from the fountain unveiling. There was no way I could tell her about the things Gavin had said. I would sink through the floor with shame.

“I feel much better, thanks.”

“Just let me know if you want to go upstairs and lie down for a bit.”

“I will.”She turns up the radio and start singing along loudly, and slightly out of tune, to an old eighties song. She bumps my hip when she passes me by. It’s obvious she’s trying to get me to feel better, and I can’t help but laugh at her exaggerated dance moves.

“You’re not going to give up, are you?”

“Nope. Come on, you have to sing too.”

“Have to?”

“Yes. It’s a new policy, I just implemented it. It’s across the board, you know. Applicable for all employees.”

“I’m your only employee.”

“Exactly.”She grabs a spatula and uses it as a microphone, singing along to “It’s Raining Men” with such zeal that I have to give up. I grab another spatula and join her in the chorus. When the song ends we’re sweaty and smiling, and I have to admit that I feel much better.

I flip the sign on the front door from closed to open with steadier hands. There will undoubtedly be more comments, but I should be strong enough to handle them.

We’re adults, I think. Oliver and I are allowed to do whatever we want.

The thought of him brings pain to my chest. He’d looked so aloof in his office on Saturday, miles and miles away. He didn’t seem to think what I said was a big deal at all. Maybe he didn’t really see us as being in a relationship, anyway.

Old Mr. Ronson is the first customer of the day. His cardigan is properly buttoned all the way down the front, his light chinos perfectly pressed.

“Good morning, dear.”

“Good morning! The usual?”

“Yes, please. The bagels with extra-”

“Sesame seeds.” I shoot him a smile. “I remember.”

He laughs as he hands me the change. “You’ve got a good memory.”