Page 28 of Protecting the Nerd

“Quillon, meet my friends.” God, hopefully, they wouldn’t mind me calling them that. “That’s Tomás and Tiago, who you probably recognize, and Tiago’s boyfriend, Cas. In the corner is Marnin, who also lives in Seattle. And you’ve already met Auden and Fir.”

Had I done that right? My social awkwardness plagued me in general, but even more around these men. I wanted them to like me for me rather than for being Essex’s sad little brother, as unlikely as that goal was.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you all. And yes, I do recognize you,” Quillon said to Tomás and Tiago. “I’d have to turn in my gay card if I didn’t.”

That got chuckles from everyone. Quillon was so good at socializing. It came so easily and naturally to him. I envied him for that.

“Boyfriend, huh?” Marnin waggled his eyebrows, his grin infectious. “Color me impressed, York. Didn’t think you had it in ya.”

“Believe it,” I said with more confidence than I felt. The word boyfriend tasted strange on my tongue, and I kept my fingers crossed that I was selling it.

We found chairs next to each other and sat.

“Welcome to the chaos, Quillon,” Auden said. “You’ve found yourself one of the good ones.”

He was so kind, saying that, even more because he knew it was all fake.

“Thanks. I’m happy to be here and meet York’s friends,” Quillon said.

As Quillon and I settled into the din of the Double F bar, a server sidled up with the ease of an old pro at avoiding tipsy patrons. “What can I get ya?” she asked, pad poised. Her smile was as bright as the neon sign above the bar.

I ordered a Coke, not trusting myself with alcohol, and I wasn’t surprised when Quillon ordered bottled water. And he wasn’t the only one. Auden rarely drank as well, a consequence of his job as sheriff. The others chimed in with their orders.

“Coming right up,” the server chirped, twirled on her heel, and weaved back to the bar.

Once the drink orders were given, the table erupted into a flurry of conversations, a cacophony of voices that blended into the background hum of country music and clinking glasses. It was the usual banter—a mix of updates and inside jokes that made the air crackle with camaraderie. Most of these men had known each other since kindergarten, which was over forty years. Technically, I’d known them a long time too, but the age difference had made me an outsider, Essex’s pesky little brother.

Auden leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his bulk, and ran a hand through his salt-and-pepper hair. “Violet won an essay contest,” he said, his voice carrying a note of pride. “A statewide one, which made her essay the best in the state of Washington.”

“I heard about it,” Fir said. “That’s an amazing accomplishment. What was it about?”

“She argued that kids in middle and high school shouldn’t be forced to read only classic literature but should be allowed to read popular fiction if they preferred that. Her point was that reading literature that didn’t appeal to them turned kids off from reading and that it was better for kids to read commercial fiction that would make them eager to read more.”

“I bet your husband had an opinion on that,” Marnin said with a grin.

“Keaton agrees with her, though as an English teacher, he prefers a mix of both.”

“Where is he?” I asked.

“Some training on the new state tests that are being introduced next school year.” Auden sighed. “Not his favorite thing, but an unavoidable part of his job.”

The waitress returned, deftly distributing new drinks and taking away empty glasses. I took a sip from my Coke, the sweetness a welcome refresher, and let myself enjoy the company.

“Our mom’s doing much better,” Tomás said. “The heart surgery was tough on her, but she’s a fighter. Seeing her up and walking…it’s like witnessing a little miracle every day.”

“We FaceTime a few times a day,” Tiago said. “It’s so good to see her improving every time we talk.”

“I was glad you guys could be there for her,” Auden said. “That must’ve meant a lot to both her and your dad.”

What would it be like to have a relationship like that with your parents? I couldn’t imagine it. Hell, I wasn’t even sure what I would feel if my parents passed away. Sadness, of course, but would it be genuine grief or more pain because of what should have been? Not something I wanted to spend too much time thinking about.

Marnin leaned forward, gesturing between Quillon and me. “I can’t help but notice how…polite you two are with each other. If you’re trying to sell this boyfriend act, you might want to dial up the affection.”

Fuck.

The words hung heavily in the air, a challenge wrapped in casual observation. Next to me, Quillon tensed. Heat crept up my neck, and I sensed the scrutiny from our friends, waiting to see how we’d respond.

I bristled at Marnin’s words, the sting making me feel exposed. “We are boyfriends.” I struggled to maintain my composure. My voice might have carried a hint more defensiveness than I’d intended. “Maybe we’re just private people.”

---