Page 69 of Hearts of Fairlake

"It's because he can't find anyone else to bitch to," Isaiah said with a sigh when we’d been called out to an out-of-control bonfire that night. "Chief Borton won't take his callsmost of the time and ignores his texts. And from what Bennett said, Trevor's been doing the same thing, except he keeps telling Fred he has a thousand other things to worry about, and not him bitching about things not going the way he wants."

"Dunno why he has to talk to you," I'd told him as we slid into the truck and let the lights flash to signal we were on the move.

"From what I was told, anyone involved in the festival is being treated as a ready-made sounding board by him," Isaiah had sighed, rolling his eyes. "So, now I'm the lucky bastard who gets to hear all about it because he’s able to find me. We really need to get a better system in place."

"For avoiding him?"

"Yes. The problem is...you."

"Me?"

"Yes. You're too damn big, you stick out, and he knows that where you are, I'm probably not far off."

"You've never complained about me being big before," I said with a smirk.

It made him roll his eyes but got a chuckle out of him too. “The upside is, you're bigger than everyone else. So if you see him coming, let me know, and I’ll disappear. If I have my way, he won't see me again until the festival starts, and I'll only have to worry about that speech and not whether someone threatened him over butterflies."

That turned out to be a simple but effective solution. For the few days following that decision, I'd kept an eye out for the mayor. And sure enough, Isaiah had been right. When the man saw me, he’d make a beeline for me. Of course, because I was looking for him, I could warn Isaiah, who made himself scarce. The result was a disappointed mayor and a much more at-ease Isaiah, who I didn't have to worry about as much.

He was worrying about the speech he’d agreed to do. I was mostly okay with it since he seemed to have made up his mind and wasn't bothered, save for the part where he’d have to stand in front of hundreds of people. Even that didn't seem to bother him much, though it was certainly going to bother me. I had agreed to stand up there with him, albeit silently, but the thought of being in front of that many people made my stomach squirm.

Mostly, it was just worrying that he might regret it later. Not because I thought his family, specifically his father, was going to do anything about it if they found out, and Isaiah was sure his father would find out, if not on the day, then eventually. His father would undoubtedly cut off the money he gave to his son, what he thought of as hush money, while Isaiah called it blackmail since he was supposed to shut up so the world didn't find out the Enders produced a gay son.

The money wasn't important in the grand scheme of things, I knew that. Isaiah had plenty of money saved. The first time I'd ever seen just how much his father sent him on a monthly basis, I was genuinely unable to find fault with Isaiah keeping the deal. Even if we both lost our jobs and couldn't find anything else, we could live off what he had saved for a couple of years at the same comfort level we now maintain. If we really wanted to penny-pinch, we could double that, if not further.

It was more that this was his last real tie to his family. It was a terrible tie, but it was still something. I knew Isaiah swore up and down that it was long past time for him to sever that final tie and that he was glad to do it. Still, I also knew he could be...impulsive, especially when it came to his father, who the mere mention of could invoke an ire in Isaiah that was extremely uncommon. The only people who could inspire that sort of rage in him were my mother and brother, especially the latter.

"You look like you're thinking hard," a voice piped up, intruding upon my worries and bringing me back to reality. It felt as though the volume of the world was cranked back up to maximum, and I blinked in surprise, having forgotten that the crowds on the other side of the street in the park were not just background characters.

I glanced over to see two uniforms and smiled at Kyle and Ian. "You two look like you're enjoying yourselves."

"Not really," Kyle said with a snort. "Everyone's getting to enjoy themselves, and I have to work."

I blinked at Ian. “Are you not working?"

"He," Kyle began, shoving Ian, "has been given the same 'job' Bennett has."

"Uhh...what is it?"

"Standing around. Trevor wants people to know there are cops around in case of trouble and a reminder to behave themselves, but he also made sure to put the best-looking and most personable officers at the festival's core. So this jackass is getting paid to stand around and look pretty."

"Which I do very well, apparently," Ian said with a smirk before getting another hard shove from Kyle.

"So not funny," Kyle snapped. "I'm ready for this shit to be done with."

I peered at Kyle curiously, wondering what had him in such a foul mood. In some ways, he reminded me a lot of Isaiah. Both were friendly, upbeat people who didn't hesitate when interacting with the public. Yet under that bubbly exterior was a short fuse and a hot temper that could flare at a moment's notice, taking anyone who didn't know them off guard. Neither was unreasonable, though usually whatever set them off was a valid reason. It was just that their temper would flare up, show itself spectacularly and noticeably, before receding almost as quickly as it had come.

"Are you...okay?" I asked Kyle finally.

"I'm fine," Kyle said with a scowl aimed at the crowd.

"He's a little cranky because he's been dealing with drunken idiots who keep getting hurt," Ian said, bumping Kyle's shoulder lightly with his own.

"And puking. Don't forget the puking."

"Right, and puking...on his shoes."

"Two pairs!" Kyle exclaimed indignantly. "They’ve ruined two pairs of shoes. I should wear little booties and call it a day. Burn these clothes when this shit is over with."

---