Page 49 of Stand By Me

"You're still at the table," she recited her part of the years-old argument with a sigh. "Talk to your mother."

He told her about people at work and some of the more interesting stories—at least those appropriate for one's mother. Without thinking, he also shared that there was a big number of queer people at KRK, and she zeroed in on that right away.

"Oh? Anyone single, perhaps?"

She might have thought she sounded innocent, but Clay knew better.

"Don't go there, Mom. Wasn't it you who told us time and time again not to go searching for love at work?"

"And that's the one time you actually listen to me? Besides, where else are you going to find someone when you're always at work?"

To be fair, Clay had met Mario while they were both on the clock, but he wasn't going to admit it now.

He looked up at the sudden silence, belatedly realizing he hadn't responded to her. Now she was staring at him, eyebrows raised and a wooden spatula in her hand.

Fuck.

"Working hard is in our DNA, apparently," he tried, but he had to admit, it wasn't his best attempt at distracting her.

He was already screwed and he knew it.

"You've met someone." She didn't ask. She didn't have to. Somehow, she could always read him better than he'd prefer.

Lying now wouldn't get him very far anyway, so he nodded.

"We're in the early stages, still figuring things out."

Clay could see she wasn't convinced, but before she said anything else, Ben came in, which put a stop to that particular conversation.

They went through dinner without anyone storming off and Ben's jabs were few and far between, which Clay counted as a win. He kept catching his brother's glances, though, so he wondered what that was about. He debated asking after they were done eating, but Mom needed him to check out a box she'd found in the garage, so he followed her out.

It turned out to be his high school mementos, stuff he'd thought was long gone. He put it in the passenger seat of his car, intending to sort through it at home, and headed back towards the house.

He paused when Ben stormed out of it.

"What's—" he started, heartbeat already going up as he pictured something happening to their mom. He stopped when Ben shoved his phone at him.

"Mario?!" He shouted as Clay tumbled to catch his phone before it fell—the phone he'd forgotten from the kitchen. "You're sleeping with Mario?" Ben gritted through his teeth now, maybe remembering they were outside.

Fuck. Fuck it all to hell.

Clay searched for something to say, but Ben wasn't interested in waiting.

"I thought it was my phone going off so I took it out and what do I see when I glance at the screen?" Ben waived his hands around. "Mario's texts. Only nothing like the texts he sends me." He snorted without humor. "I can't believe this."

Clay slid his phone into his pocket without checking.

"Let's get inside and—"

"No," Ben cut him off and actually shoulder-checked him on his way to his car. "I have nothing to say to you."

"Come on, it's not—" Clay tried again, and Ben whirled around.

"Are you really going to tell me it's not what it looks like? Huh?" he growled and Clay resisted to take a step back. At this point he hoped it wouldn't come to blows, but he was starting to get frustrated as well. "Tell me," Ben insisted. "Are you going to deny you're fuckingmybest friend?"

Clay clenched his jaw, because anything he could say would escalate the situation further. He narrowed his eyes and counted to ten in his head.

"That's what I thought." Ben stepped back and headed to his car. "That's what I fucking thought."

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