Chapter 2: 2 – Conor

"I didn't book a direct flight, as my Dad made me pay for this trip myself. And this was the cheapest option."

The smell of burgers hovered over the white square table Conor and I sat at, and my mouth got watery. The Diner looked old-fashioned. As if it was built to attract European tourists, even though I doubt that any of them even fly here. Conor folded his hands, piercing me with his eyes. "So, your rich dad makes you go to work to pay for stuff yourself?" He raised his brows at me in disbelief.

"He says I have to learn what it's like to earn stuff."

Connor couldn't hold himself back anymore and burst out laughing. "Why is that so funny," I asked, feeling my blood pressure rising again, but Conor just shook his head and was all smiles as he probably thought I deserved to be taught a lesson.

"I can't imagine you... having a job. Sorry. The mighty big quarterback who always lets people know who is king, working in a donut store."

I breathed heavily even though there was no use in being angry about it. After what happened, I can't blame him. He's just using this opportunity to entertain himself.

"Maybe you are a normal human being, after all."

"What else would I be?"

I picked up the sticky menu and looked at the different burgers, sandwiches, and all-day-breakfast variations. A waiter barely older than us walked up to our table, straightening his short black hair one more time before putting on a fake smile.

"Good evening, gentleman. I'm Joshua, and I will be serving you tonight. How are we today?" As if you cared, I thought. A small brown stain on his company clothes, right on his chest, was barely covered by his name tag.

"Yeah, yeah. We're good," I replied hastily, to get over with the social conventions everybody else seems to like so much.

"You guys also stuck here due to the storm?"

"Unfortunately," answered Conor, and I interrupted him before he could engage further in that useless conversation.

"Can we skip the shenanigans and just order?"

"Oh my, someone is hungry, huh?" Waiter Guy turned to Conor, ignoring my angry stare, and they looked at each other as if I was the one wasting everybody's time. Ugh, I hate small talk.

"I'll take the house burger with fries and a Coke," I barked at Josh-something, throwing the menu toward his side of the table. He tried to catch the laminated letter-sized paper but missed and instead slammed it onto the ground, almost knocking over the table. Terrible reflexes, just like I thought. I threw my arms on the opposing side and stabilized the table before he got seriously hurt by his clumsiness.

"Yeah, I'll have the same." Conor smiled apologetically at the waiter as if he had to reassure him that I wasn't a bad guy.

"Okay. I'll be back with you shortly," he replied and walked away with a face that told me he would ensure to add extra saliva to my drink.

"Still angry at everyone and everything, huh?"

"No?" I countered so hastily that I probably confirmed the opposite answer. I wasn't in the mood to be judged. Conor subconsciously tapped his feet, following the beat of a song that pretended to be cool ten years ago. Just change the fucking topic, I told myself and took a deep breath.

"What brings you here?" Conor clenched his eyebrows, probably thinking the same as me. What a stupid question. But places like this Diner are made for dull conversation, so I went on with it. "Didn't you move to LA?"

"That's where I'm heading." He eyed me as if he was waiting for the right moment to put information on the table that would either hurt me badly or kill me straight away. "Visited some friends over the Holidays."

I probably shouldn't have investigated further, but my curiosity had already got the better of me.

"Anyone I know?"

"Maybe," he laughed gaily.

"Don't make me ask for every damn piece of information."

"Will, for example. And Leo."

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"Like in Will Cooper and Leo Milton?" My heart sunk to my bottom. This wasn't just any conversation between old friends. Without realizing it, I was in the middle of a fight. And I was losing.

The grin on Conor's face widened as if he was happy that this was hard news for me. Cooper and Milton are two of my closest friends. I spend most of my afternoons with them, even though we no longer attend the same high school. Why the fuck didn't I know anything about that?

"Yeah. It turned out they didn't have as big of a problem with me being gay as you had."

My eyes wandered over the table, to the bar, and back into my lap. I needed something else to look at than Conor's sadistic face.

"So you waited for me to leave town to visit them?" Everything seemed to line up perfectly. When I asked Leo and Will what they were doing over the holidays, they bullshitted me with "usual family festivities." So now they could have the time of their lives without risking me getting in their way. Am I that terrible that everyone had to lie to me?

"Nah, it was just a coincidence that you were out of town. The last time I visited, you were also home." He keeps revealing facts as if this was a true-crime show on Netflix—every piece of information more shocking than the last one. I skimmed my fingers over the slippery table top, trying to look unimpressed, while I angrily clenched my toes into the floor. So my actions in the past had more of an impact than I thought they had. Great.

"Oh, trouble in paradise," the waiter commented mockingly upon seeing my face. Why is everyone suddenly choosing to pick on me today? I just growled a "Thank you" and stared at a poster hanging over the table, advertising their newest steak-sandwich creation. If I had looked at him, I probably would have blared something stupid to divert my anger caused by Conor onto him. But I shouldn't keep provoking the people who handle my food.

He positioned two big cups filled with cola and ice close to the table's edge, almost as if he wanted them to tip over. Bringing two separately packed straws, one nicely placed next to Connor and one thrown toward me. I could feel the disappointment behind his constant fake smile when I easily caught it.

"Let me know if you need anything else," and with a malicious "Enjoy your drinks," he left us alone again. I scanned my cup to see if he actually spit in it, but I couldn't determine anything suspicious.

"Does it make you uncomfortable that I talk so openly about everything?" Conor popped the straw out of its packaging and took a sip of the sparkling black fuel.

"Just for the record, I never had a problem with you being gay."

"Sure," Conor laughed and rolled his eyes, not believing a word.

I hate that people so often don't believe me when I am honest with them. They always used to look at me like he does now. I saw it from my Dad, my Mom, Milton and Cooper, and several others. But Conor's facial expression told me more than he wanted. He doesn't know what drove my actions back then. Because if he had, this conversation would have gone differently.

"I mean it."

But before I could go on explaining myself, Conor changed the topic. "So what else is new? Football? Girlfriend?" And followed by an insightfully dark grin, "Boyfriend?"

"Oh, fuck this." Of course, he couldn't just stop, so I had to. This conversation was just too awkward, and none of us would get out alive if we kept going like this. I pushed myself up and grabbed my jacket, which I had shoved into the corner of the bench when we arrived.

"When have you lost your humor, Asher?" he quickly interjected and raised his arm, ready to grab my wrist, but stopped right before he touched me. "I'm sorry. I promise I will stop now." Connor smiled honestly at me as if he was sorry for going this far. "Tell me a bit about your life. I really want to know."

"Okay, okay," I mumbled and sat back down. I hope I won't regret this tomorrow. "You probably know that my Dad made me go to a different high school than the other guys." Conor nodded shortly and, as I thought, was not surprised.

"No girlfriend, or boyfriend, before you have to keep asking...." I unpacked my straw and pushed it into the drink, but it kept coming up, so I bumped it down again and again. "I'm the quarterback of my high school team. But you will probably like that I'm not the team captain. Coach says I'm not ready for that. But I will show him soon enough." Contrary to what I had imagined, Conor looked more worried than happy at this information.

"What about you?" I thrust the straw to the bottom of the glass.

"I'm not a linebacker anymore. I felt the pressure of the city and started drama."

"No way." I stared at him in shock as he was one of the best linebackers I ever saw, and he could have gone big with his talent.

"LA is crazy. I miss the small-town living somehow, but now that I've been there again, I'm also happy to return home." The slurpy sound of me drinking through a straw underlined his words. Conor gazed into the distance. "I'm sorry, we kept my visits a secret from you. I didn't want to open old wounds, so I made the others promise not to tell you. Don't let it out on them, okay?"

"It's fine," I answered brusquely, as I didn't want to make this conversation more complicated than it already was. I leaned on the table and took another sip as Conor's worried eyes mustered each of my moves.

"Are you happy, Ash?"

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