Keep Coming Back To Love. Christa Maurice
into the room and the temperature dropped fifteen degrees. He wore a stained undershirt with saggy jeans. “You look like a faggot. What the hell are you wearing?”
Tyler looked down at the shirt. The colors were a little weird, but it fit like skin and made him feel finished in some way he couldn’t put his finger on. When he’d shown Candy before he left the store, she’d been very pleased.
“You look like a faggot,” Dad repeated, louder this time.
“Roger!” His mother snapped. “Leave him alone. It’s very nice. It’s good to see him taking an interest in how he looks.”
“He looks like a faggot.”
Tiffany giggled.
“Shut up, Tiff,” Tyler snarled. Should have climbed in the window. Right now he could be lying on his bed, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Candy.
“I think he looks more grown up and professional.” His mother set her jaw. “I’m going to give him my credit card so he can go get more clothes like those. Maybe he’ll be inspired to go to college.”
Her credit card was still in his pocket, but Tyler figured this was a bad time to bring that up.
“He doesn’t need to go to college. He needs to grow up and get a job instead of running around looking like—like a homo.”
“There’s nothing wrong with how he looks and if he wants to go to college, he should. Better than getting stuck in some dead-end job he complains about every night over dinner,” his mother shouted.
“What? Like teaching school so he can complain about how much money he’s not making for teaching other people’s brats?” his father shouted back.
Tyler’s stomach contracted to a pinpoint. All they ever did was fight about him. He should chuck it all and go to the Vo Tech to learn something glamorous like engine repair. “Stop it! I hate you people. I hate this house!” Tyler stomped upstairs and slammed his bedroom door. His room was always clean, clothes put away, desk and dresser cleared, bed made. Never knew when Dad was going to pull a surprise inspection and confiscate anything he thought was out of place.
Throwing himself on his bed, still dressing in the clothes Candy picked out for him, Tyler stared at the Rage Against the Machine poster on the wall. The whole day had been awesome until he got home. When he’d told Mom about the audition this morning on the way to school, she’d insisted he get some new clothes. Then he’d met Candy and she’d been so cool. The girls in the salon fussed over him as if he was important and that little old lady gave him ten bucks because he sang “Moon River” for her twice. The guys in the band were impressed with his voice and with the way he looked. They had a paid gig already for Friday and he’d have to rehearse with them every night at their manager’s house to get ready.
The band had a manager. He’d never been in a band big enough to have a manager before. And Candy. Man, even if he hadn’t gotten in the band, Candy would have made the whole day worth it. So hot and smart. She planned to go to college. Maybe he should think about it too. Even if he ended up being a teacher like his mom, it would be better than driving truck like his dad. Anything would be better than being like his dad.
His mom tapped on his door. Had to be his mom. His dad and Tiff just barged in.
“Yeah?”
“Hi honey.” She stepped through the doorway and scanned the room. “I wanted you to know I’m proud of you for trying this. You’ve worked very hard and even if it doesn’t pan out, you’ll know you did your best.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
She swallowed. “And I do want to you go back to the store and get some more clothes like these. You look very nice. Even your hair.” She smiled a little. “It is shorter.”
“Yeah.”
She sat on the end of the bed and folded her hands in her lap. “So you met a girl. What’s she like?”
Tyler shrugged. “She’s pretty. She works at the store and she helped me pick this stuff out.”
“What’s her name?”
“Candy.” He wanted to say, no Mom, I’m not gay, but that would be rude.
His mother nodded, her expression relaxing. “Well, I hope she’s there tomorrow so she can help you pick out some more clothes like these. Try to keep it under two hundred dollars.”
Two hundred bucks? His mother must be really relieved. “Thanks, Mom.”
“Of course.” She patted his foot.
“Hey, Mom,” he said as she stood to leave. “I told Candy I’d take her out to dinner if I got in the band.”
“What do you need? Money, the car, or both?”
“Both?” He grinned. If she was feeling generous, he should take advantage. Candy would be a lot more impressed if he took her out in a car instead of riding the city bus.
She sighed smiling. “When?”
“I’ll ask her tomorrow.” Tyler couldn’t stop the grin spreading up from his chest and across his face. It was as if the fight with his dad never happened. He’d gotten in the band and was going to see Candy again tomorrow. All was right with the world.
* * * *
When he walked into the young men’s section the next day after school, she was standing at the counter sewing and talking to some old guy who looked like he wanted to eat her up. Who wouldn’t? She had on this tight green top cut down to there and a tan skirt that showed off her fantastic legs. Tyler’s heart stammered. The way she was looking at the guy was exactly the way she’d looked at him yesterday. Like he was special. Important.
All day he’d felt ten feet tall. Everybody at school was psyched about him getting into Touchstone and they were already making plans to come out to McGrudy’s for his debut. He’d planned to see if Candy could come too. Then he could introduce her to the band and watch them all pick their tongues up off the floor. But the sight of her with this old guy curdled Tyler’s stomach.
He took a step back trying to escape the cloying stickiness of his own stupid fantasy. He should have known a girl like her wasn’t going to be alone. That guy was probably one of her many sugar daddies. How many of them did she kiss? He licked his lips trying to remember how she tasted, but could only taste the stale coffee he’d gotten at school while he was waiting for the bus to bring him here. Mom was going to be disappointed if he didn’t come home with some new stuff though. He’d have to suck it up.
Candy glanced up from her sewing when he stopped by the desk. Her smile lit up. “Tyler! How did it go?” She dropped the shirt in her hand and reached for him. The guy at the desk scowled as he followed her movements. “Did you get in?”
“Yeah.” He forced a smile. That coffee was burning a hole in his stomach.
“That’s fantastic.” She threw her arms around his neck. “I’m so excited. When are you taking me to dinner? I expect to be paid for my services, y’know.”
Tyler put his arms around her waist. Jeez, he was getting hard. “I was going to ask you if you were free tomorrow, but you looked busy.” He pulled away hoping she hadn’t noticed his boner.
“Busy? Oh, this is another customer of mine.”
Another customer. Nice.
The old guy had held out his hand. “Joe Goldman. Didn’t mean to move in on your territory.”
Tyler shook his hand. Was this guy shitting him? Move in on his territory? As if Tyler had any hope of competing against a guy like this.
“Joe saw me working on your shirt yesterday and asked if I’d do some tailoring for him too. Then he decided to come in today to see if I’d skipped school so I could do it, even though I told him it would take a week.” She