Page 1 of A Minute More

CHAPTER1

WESLEY

“That dude is weird,” my friend and coworker, Jude, says softly. His red hair is sticking straight up, almost like he’s just been fucked, and his blue eyes squint at me in confusion. “I mean, he doesn’t talk. It’s been what? Three weeks since he started and not a word, unless it’s to a customer. And even then, it’s barely more than a few sentences. Do you think he speaks English? Maybe he’s an immigrant? I haven’t heard an accent though. The mystery, man. I can’t fucking stand it. I feel like I need to become a detective or some shit.”

“You don’t need to do that, you dick, because he’s not that much of a mystery. He’s just quiet.” I glance through the doorway at Simon who is sitting in the breakroom with his earbuds in his ears. His eyes are closed and his head is leaning back against the wall. It’s like he’s napping, but I don’t think that’s it. I think he’s meditating or something. Not that I’d know. He doesn’t speak to any of us, even going so far as to avoid all eye contact with me. He is a mystery.

A novel I want to read and dissect.

“I mean, why doesn’t he chat with us? We’re nice dudes, right? I think I’m so fucking nice.”

“We are,” I say and then glance over at Jude who’s frowning. It’s after lunch and the crowd has died down at the sandwich shop we all work at, leaving us with nothing better to do than gossip like old women in a small town. I mean, wearein a small town in Iowa so it makes sense, but still, I feel a little weird doing it. Seems Simon might not appreciate the rumors we’re unwittingly stirring. I glance over at him and take in his dark hair that’s neatly combed to the side and wonder how he manages to get it to stay like that all damn day. Mine is an unruly mess on top of my head thirty seconds into my shift. I see my reflection in the shop’s window, a tall muscular frame, thick arms and legs from playing sports in college…all clad in clothes I pulled from my hamper this morning.

“I heard he’s like some kind of genius. Like in math or something,” I mutter, and Jude socks me in the arm.

“Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“I dunno. Someone mentioned it and I didn’t think anything of it.”

“This is important. I thought he worked for the CIA or some shit.”

“No way…although he could do some kind of data stuff for them. That’s a thing, right?”

“Yeah, he looks nerdy enough. Like just look at how he dresses. I mean, there has to be some kind of dress code for dudes with super big brains.”

My eyes travel over his dark khaki pants and button-down shirt. He dresses like an old college professor. Sometimes he even wears a vest. And his hair is always perfectly combed to the side, like he’s some kind of fifties actor. Maybe he time-traveled and is from the fifties.

Hmm, now that’s a theory.

“Yeah, he does. Although, if he works for the CIA, why would he be working at this place?”

“Yeah,” Jude says, scraping a hand across his jaw. “That’s the question, isn’t it?”

Suddenly, Simon’s eyes flash open and they shoot to mine. I’m helpless to do anything but stare into them. Those dark brown depths sparkling with stuff I can’t even begin to understand.

Fuck, even his eyeballs look smart.

Jude pulls me away from the breakroom door and we get busy cleaning the counters and sweeping the floors. We have hours left until our shift is over, and thank god Jude is here or else I’d have to contend with Simon myself. All by myself.

I’ve worked with him alone before.

It’s awkward as fuck. He doesn’t even really make eye contact. Just looks at me and then glances away, like he couldn’t care less that I’m even there.

I’ve tried to be nice, to make conversation, but he doesn’t even try to make conversation back. He just lets the awkward silences sit between us. It makes me fidget and squirm.

And I’m a nice guy. I’m likable. I can get along with anyone. But not Simon. Nope. He is the exception to the rule.

“You going to the party tonight, Wes?” Jude asks, and I bob my head. Some of my dark brown hair flops down onto my forehead, and I push it back. It drives me nuts, but I haven’t bothered getting a haircut yet. Been so damn busy and it’s hard to find the time.

“Yeah, I’ll be there. Cassidy said she’d meet me so…you know…I gotta talk you up, man.”

Jude bows lowly, thanking me profusely. He’s been shooting his shot with my casual acquaintance for months. The minute he saw her, he knew he wanted her, but Cassidy is hard to pin down. She’s a bit wily. And to be honest, I’m not even sure she’s that interested. Maybe she only said yes to meeting him because she felt sorry for him. I dunno. I can’t get a read on her.I honestly don’t know her that well.

“And you? Who are you hoping will be there?”

“No one,” I say and then lean against the wall and sigh. I don’t know what the fuck I want. Just that I wantsomething. Can’t quite seem to put my finger on it. Been thinking about it for months and yet, no one I’m with seems to satiate the need I have growing within me.

It’s fucking with my mind. Sex is just mediocre, kind of yawn-inducing to be honest. I don’t really care to have it anymore.It’s been weeks since I’ve been with anyone.

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