Page 5 of Ancient History

“Yeah.” Hutch backed away slowly. “I’ll, uh, see you around.”

And unfortunately for me, that wasn’t just a saying. It was a promise.

Amos:Hutch ducking Hawkins is back!

Amos:*ducking

Amos:ahhhh fucking

Amos:HUTCH FUCKING HAWKINS

Everett:Holy duck

Julian: Drinks tonight?

Chase:Multiple drinks.

Amos:YESSSSSSSSS

2

AMOS

Ihad a few hours to kill before meeting up with my friends for happy hour. High school got out at two-fifteen, and we were too old for day drinking.

Somehow, I managed to get through the rest of the school day after my encounter with Hutch. I think being gay had given me the superpower of compartmentalization. Instead of using it to lead a double life, I used my powers for teaching the awesomeness of history while keeping Hutch in a very small box in my head.

After school, I met with the History Club. Each marking period, we voted on a new historical period to deep dive on. Currently, we were discussing the French Revolution and how a shortage of bread led to overthrowing the government. What could I say? People love carbs. The club was full of nerds like myself, but we had a good time. I’d rather these nerds geek out over history than channel that energy into 4chan message boards.

With a few hours to spare, I continued to keep Hutch-related thoughts at bay while segueing to my post-after school jobs. I did one-on-one SAT verbal tutoring at kids’ houses, and I shoveled mulch for an elderly couple who lived in a cute cottage near the school. I had to take two showers to get the smell off my skin, but it was worth it. I was able to help people and make a little extra cash for the travel fund. As a history buff, there were so many places I wanted to visit. The rooms where it happened. The sites of ancient civilizations.

Unlike some of the wealthier families in Sourwood, the ones who paid their grown kids’ rent and car payments, I didn’t have parents who sent me checks or took me on family vacations. They moved down to New Orleans to be closer to my sister and their grandkids. I preferred not having parents all up in my business. Whatever life threw at me, I could handle on my own. And for anything I couldn’t handle, I had my friends.

Seeing my ex-boyfriend, who was now my new co-worker, fell into this latter category.

My friends and I went to the local pub, Stone’s Throw Tavern, for happy hour. It was situated on a quiet side street in downtown Sourwood with a stunning view of the Hudson River, about an hour north of Manhattan. And despite its hole-in-the-wall vibe, it was a nice, spacious place with high ceilings and large windows that overlooked the water.

Everett picked me up so I wouldn’t drink and drive. Because, honey, I planned to drink.

My friend and former roommate Charlie was bartending that night, an increasingly rare occurrence since he’d gotten promoted to assistant manager.

“It’s the ass man!” I cheered when Charlie brought over round number two of beers. Blood alcohol wise, I was barely buzzed, but the drama of today had weakened my tolerance.

“Need any appetizers so you’re not drinking on an empty stomach?” Charlie was short but jacked, which made him a hot combo with his lumberjackian bear of a husband Mitch, Stone’s Throw Tavern’s owner. They originally met when Charlie used to date Mitch’s daughter in college, which was equal parts awkward and freaking hot.

Julian scanned the menu. “We’ll take some loaded fries.”

“Coming right up.”

“Thank you, ass man!” I called out.

“Man, were you pre-gaming at school?” Charlie clapped me on the shoulder.

“He’s fine,” Everett said. “He’s just going through a lot. Blast from the past.”

I gave Charlie the come hither curled finger to bring him close. “H-squared is back.”

“Seriously?”

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