Page 112 of Out of the Storm

“Boyfriend.”

“Right.” Nodding thoughtfully, Don pursed his lips. “Is Jeff here?”

Gary shook his head. Don kept nodding. He had a very punchable face.

Gary tried to push the thought out of his mind. He’d never stand a chance in a fight.

“Uh...” Don’s eyes flickered to the jukebox. “Can you move?”

“Oh, yeah, sure,” Gary said, stepping to the side. “But, hey, I-I thought maybe we could talk about something.”

“Yeah?” Don slipped a quarter into the slot and started pressing the number buttons to pick the song he wanted. “What, was Jeff whining to you about me calling him?”

Gary frowned. Shoot. He hadn’t really thought about how it would look.

“Uh, no,” Gary said, which was onlykind ofa lie. Jeff hadn’t been whining. Exactly.

Straightening his posture, Gary prepared to recite the speech he’d been practicing in his head, but then Don interrupted his thoughts.

“He left a bunch of shit at my place,” Don said. “I thought I’d be the bigger man and return it. That’s all.”

Bigger man? Don sure thought highly of himself. Without even needing to think over his words, Gary started laying into him a little.

“Well, see, the problem is that you’re bothering him. Whatever Jeff left behind, clearly he has no need for it anymore. It’s been years since the two of you were together.” It was kind of incredible that his voice was coming out so level, even though his legs were wobbling like they were made of Jell-O. “So, I wanted to tell you that we’d appreciate it—or,I’dappreciate it, rather—if you’d refrain from calling again.”

Don scoffed, one of his eyebrows ticking up slightly, and then he looked around in a “Can youbelievethis guy?” kind of way, even though the other patrons nearby were barely paying either of them any mind.

“Look, I know what you’re thinking, but I have no interest in Mr. Jeff Russo anymore. I moved on.Easily. And I’m not sure what he told you about me, but that pip-squeak likes to play the victim, pretend he wasn’t enjoying—”

Before Gary could think better of it, he placed his hands on Don’s shoulders and shoved. Hard. But, as it turned out, he wasn’t strong enough to make Don move. Not even an inch. Instead, since Gary had put every bit ofoomphhe possessed behind that silly push, he only ended up pushinghimselfback a step, like Don’s massive form had been some kind of springboard. Gary sent himself tripping over a stool, and when he landed next to the high-top table with an embarrassing thud, the force of the fall caused his glasses to slide off his face and bounce onto the sticky tile floor.

“Shit,” Gary muttered under his breath.

He inched his hand toward the fuzzy black frames, but before he could reach them, Don’s boot landed on top of them.

Crunch.

“Ooops,” Don said.

Even without the help of his lenses, Gary could sense that Don was looking at him like he was a complete fuckup. And he reallywasa fuckup, wasn’t he? As a sort of Hail Mary, Gary continued to stare up at the blurry blob that was Jeff’s ex and put on the meanest look he could muster, one that included scowling and furrowing of brows and an honest attempt to shoot lasers out of his pathetically inept eyeballs. But it probably only looked like he was squinting.

“Just stop calling him,” Gary said, as though he wasn’t the one spilled out on the floor like he’d just had his ass handed to him.

Don let out a snort of amusement in response. Geez, this was not going well.

“Yeah, okay, I’ll put his shit out by the curb tomorrow.”

Well, hey, that was something.

“Good,” Gary said, feeling a bit triumphant.

Unfortunately, that feeling of triumph was short-lived. When Don walked past, he smacked his fist on the high-top table that Gary had nearly slammed into before, and Gary looked up to see a heavy highball glass tumbling over the edge. Toward his face.

Crack.

“Ow, fuck!”

Gary’s shouted expletive only seemed slightly louder than the horrible sound his nose had made the second the glass’s thick base had smacked into it. Suddenly, his face was very wet. And only some of it was from the beer.

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