I owe this place everything. My cushy life. My friends. All the support this town has given me since I was a kid and didn’t know better. The world outside held no interest to me. Why would it? It was so peaceful here. Nothing ever happened.
Maybe that’s the problem.
Tap-tap-tapon my window. I pop my eyes open—when’d I close them?—and turn. Billy Tucker-Strong himself stands there with his kind eyes on mine, fingers wiggling at me in greeting.
I come alive and get out of the car. “Hi, Mr. Billy!”
“Didn’t mean to interrupt your midmorning meditation,” he teases. “Just walking past on my way back from Biggie’s and saw your car! Didn’t expect you back in town already, Teej.”
I shake his hand and smile. “Was getting a little antsy being cooped up at home. Figured I’d drop in and see if I could help out, but I know you’re probably swamped with new applicants …”
“Actually …” Billy grimaces and leans in. “I’m a bit short on help, if you can believe it. Everyone’s going to my brother-in-law’s gym or out toFairviewfor jobs, of all places. They opened some big mega games center everyone’s going crazy about—bowling alley, food court, movie theater, laser tag … it’s a whole mega plex thing. I’m lucky if I getoneeligible worker from this summer’s batch.”
I’m on it at once. “Of course I can help out.”
“I know you’re not the sixteen-year-old you once were,” he goes on. “You’re not just a kid who wants extra cash anymore, I get it.” He sighs and chuckles at the same time. “I can’t help but look at you and still see the bright-eyed teenager who pops in at any hour I need him. I’m sure you’ve got better things to do with your summer than scoop ice cream and give away extra toppings.”
I’m about to insist yet again that I’m totally available, then stop. “Wait. You know about the extra toppings?”
“I know everything.” He winks.
For half a heartbeat, I wonder if that comment is just about the toppings.
Perhaps I forgot to mention a key detail about Spruce, Texas.
No one here knows I’m gay.
Well, not for sure, at least. Considering how many gay couples this stunning singular small town has lassoed together and how hot and deeply the gossip train runs around here, it wouldn’t be much of a surprise at all if I came out. I’m certain there’s a club of ladies at the church placing bets on whose team I play for. Nadine Strong herself is probably chomping at the bit,ready to play that matchmaker game she so desperately needs to give up.
Oh. I just remembered I told Cole Harding last year.
Fine,oneperson knows for sure. But no one other than him. Oh, and my banana plushie named Banano I’ve had since I was six and a half and no one even knows exists.
“And it’s fine with me,” Billy insists, “just as long as it keeps bringin’ in those loyal, lovin’ customers.”
Present thoughts considered, I have to think for a hot second before realizing heistalking about the giving-out-extra-toppings thing and not actually implying that my semi-secret gayness is a customer draw. “Thank you for your forgiveness.”
“Oh, did I forgive you?” he teases, then nudges me in the ribs. “Kidding. So you’re free to help out? I just got this new POS system installed last week. Jimmy and Bobby use it over at their Fitness Zone and … I cannot get my head around it. Startin’ to think POS stands for piece-of-shit, not point-of-sale. Swear I feel a hundred years old and I’m barely thirty.”
I frown. “Aren’t you thirty-two?”
“And in denial. Good to have you back, Teej.” He struts away humming a tune, then peers over his shoulder. “You coming?”
I see my mom’s disapproving stare. Hear her questioning tone of voice. Feel the stifling spot in my dad’s office I haven’t seen yet.
The next second, I’m jogging after him, and together, we head across the street and into the charming T&S’s, where I welcome its sugary aromas that are as familiar to me as home.
After playing around with it for a literal minute, I figure out Billy’s POS system, get him up to speed (comparing it to making playlists on Spotify, of all things), and make suggestions on how to organize the POS to make it easier to ring up customers. Billy spills an idea he has for rearranging the layout of the store, which I’m totally onboard with after a teensy adjustmentto the lighting. “What would I do without you?” he asks. “You’re brilliant!”
“You almostdiddo without me,” I point out as I reach for the cup of sampling spoons on the counter—and realize I didnotmean for that to slip out.
Then I go and tip over said cup all over the floor.
“For the love of licorice!” I curse at myself, then come around to clean up my mess, muttering, “Sorry, sorry, sorry.” I hate wasting things, even tiny sampling spoons. Some went under the counter.
Billy crouches down next to me a moment later to help. “Um, what’d you mean by that?”
“By what?” I ask. “I hate licorice, but want to love it someday, so I’m sorta training myself to not be so quick to dismiss—”