Page 18 of Ancient History

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Amos said.

“Why not?” Aguilar asked back. He looked between me and Amos, completely oblivious.

“It’s…well…” Amos bit the corner of his lip when he got flustered. After two years of having a down low relationship, our skill at hiding our feelings in plain sight was still strong as ever.

Why not indeed? Neither of us could answer that without getting into a whole bunch of stuff we were both dying not to get into.

“It’s settled then. You can show Hutch the ropes. Gentlemen.” Aguilar nodded at us and returned back to the busy hall where he came from.

Amos didn’t waste any time leaving in the opposite direction, walking with determination to get away from me.

“Hey, Amos,” I called out.

Once again, he faced me. Any warmth there’d been for me was long gone.

How can I get you to smile at me again?

“Yeah?”

I shrugged my shoulders up to my ears. I felt so out of place for so many reasons that in my nervous haste, I said theabsoluteworst thing. “So, we’re cool, right?”

Fuuuuck. It was like my brain was actively trying to sabotage me.

Amos’s mouth hung open for a second before he regained his resting stone face. “Look, Hutch. What happened between us is in the distant past. It’s not worth dredging up. If you have a question pertaining to work or you need help with the coffee maker in the lounge, I’ll help you. We’re colleagues, and that’s it. So in that respect, sure. I guess we’re cool.”

He turned on his heel and kept on walking, leaving me to recover from the brute impact.

I gave a thumbs up to his back like an idiot.

“See you at lunch,” I muttered under my breath.

5

AMOS

Jesus assfucking Christ.

Scratch that. If there really was an assfucking Jesus, then he’d understand the cringey complexity of gay relationships, and he wouldn’t have stuck me with Hutch as my cafeteria duty partner. Also, with his flowing hair, eight pack, and carpentry skills, Jesus would totally be a catch in the gay community, like an HGTV renovation show host.

I had a good thing going with my old caf duty partner Mrs. Jin. When we weren’t making our rounds around the caf looking for shenanigans, we’d chat about our weekends and TV shows for a few minutes, then do our own thing in comfortable silence.

With Hutch, there would be silence, but it wouldn’t be comfortable.

I was not born for drama. Putting up an icy exterior around him was exhausting, like how a real air conditioner would feel at the height of summer.

Clipped responses and stoic facial expressions were not my jam, but that’s what I had to do to keep sane and stop myself from feeling things. Hutch was dangerously easy to talk to and be around. He was comfortable like a favorite sweater. His lazy smile and inquisitive eyes threatened to make me forget what he did.

And when he put his hand on my arm? I had a full-body erotic response which I fought like hell to suppress. Damn him for still having that effect on me.

If I didn’t watch myself, my old feelings for him could shoot right to the surface, and then I’d be fucked. There was nothing worse than re-falling for the guy who broke your heart.

Ten years ago, he declared in no uncertain terms that he didn’t want to be with me. Those feelings hadn’t changed. He was being nice to me because we were now colleagues, and he didn’t want things to be awkward. That was all.

I thought I’d only have to nod if we passed each other in the hall, not spend every lunch period eating across from him.

But I could be cordial. Cordial as fuck.

Hutch and I passed each other in the hall between first and second period, and then second and third period. I gave a perfunctory head nod each time. It was difficult because he had a face that was meant to be looked at. The horniest of the Greek gods cultivated that face. Catching glimpses of Hutch in the halls got my closeted ass through high school.

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