From the Inside Out Read online

  Soren managed to relieve Maria from the bar without looking at Lucas. A run of customers directly after provided a spell of relief—probably as much for Lucas as for him. Falling into routine, impersonal and businesslike, was enough to keep going without having to think.

  When he set the last drink on the counter and they fell into a lull, Soren wasn't expecting the sudden quiet. He looked at Lucas.

  Lucas was looking at him.

  Soren caught his breath. "What?" He controlled the urge to look over his shoulder. Before he had met Lucas at the Java Shack the previous day, he could hardly remember the number of times Lucas had actually looked at him before, really seen him, the way he looked at the good-looking women who came through the door.

  Soren was receiving such a look right now. It was unsettling, and he wanted to squirm.

  "Sorry." Lucas ducked his head, putting a hand to the back of his neck beneath the tail of his pulled-back hair. "How are you?"

  Soren considered a number of responses. Could be better, honestly, was the first. He didn't have a lot of classes to worry about on Friday, but the time he'd spent in the career center had dampened the rest of his day, not to mention the prospect of…this—seeing Lucas, talking to him. "Fine," he said mechanically, and turned to clean up the bar.

  Silence fell over them for a long moment.

  "Look," Lucas said, "about yesterday—"

  Soren looked over his shoulder. "Forget about it," he said, brusque for once. "It's over." He felt a bit desolate at the thought. TruBishounen had been a recent friend, but he'd been a friend nonetheless.

  At least, Soren had thought he'd been.

  "I'm sorry," Lucas said.

  "I said, forget it," Soren said, feeling uncomfortable. Didn't Lucas know when to let it go?

  "Look…don't give me the silent treatment, okay? I was surprised yesterday. I didn't know—"

  "Hey," Aaron said, coming out into the service area. "Lucas, did you send Teri home?"

  Lucas turned to face him. "That's right. Something wrong?"

  Aaron's expression clouded. Soren winced and ducked to check the stock of supplies in the twin fridges beneath the bar.

  "Where do you get off giving orders like you're shift super?" Aaron demanded, edging into Lucas's space and forcing him to step back from the register. He had a till under his arm and he was obviously ready to use it…or at least, to put it in for the rest of the night. Aaron tended to put a drawer in for show, then spend his time in the back room rather than actually cashier.

  "I am a shift super," Lucas replied. "Danice left early, so she put me in charge of the store until you got here. Got a problem?"

  Aaron loomed over him, clearly trying to find an issue with that. Instead of responding right away, he made a disparaging noise and turned to the register, clearing out of Lucas's screens. "Why did you send Teri home early, then?"

  "It was fifteen minutes, Aaron." Lucas was holding onto his temper by a thin margin, Soren could tell that much just by listening. "Her boyfriend got here early, so I let her go because I knew Soren would be here in a few. The store was dead, and Maria and I could handle it. You have a problem, you take it up with Danice. Or Michelle."

  Aaron slammed his till into the register. "So long as you know who's in charge tonight, I don't have a problem, Daye." He stayed a moment longer, and then turned on his heel. "Take care of the store. I'm going to make sure everything's in order, then I'll do the dishes."

  Soren couldn't help himself. He exchanged a look with Lucas at that statement, and it felt as familiar as the glances he shared with Sloane.

  "Must be reading up on his J.D. Salinger," Soren murmured. He probably suited Aaron's worldview.

  "Actually," Lucas said, "I think it's Vonnegut right now."

  Soren glanced at him from the corner of his eye. Lucas was smiling faintly, but his attention was turned to the register as he logged himself back into his till. It was the sort of observation TruBishounen would make. Soren had wanted the quiet before, but now he was afraid that awkward silence would descend again.

  "You weren't entirely honest yesterday," Lucas said out of the blue.

  Soren straightened, hands on two of the porta-filter handles. He cast a startled look over at Lucas. "W-What are you talking about? I don't…" I don't want to stop liking you, so I think I'd better go. He hadn't really wanted to go, but that wasn't so much an untruth as it had been a real possibility—that he'd stop liking Tru.

  Still, he had made assumptions about Lucas, and seeing him in person had completely clouded over the expectations he had formed of the person he'd thought he'd be meeting. In a very real way, he had not given Lucas enough credit for being as much of an individual as TruBishounen. He had never gone out of his way to get to know Lucas, had tried to remain invisible to him. It was a vicious circle.

  "When you told me you didn't know where your nickname came from," Lucas said. "It came from the Narnia books, didn't it?"

  Soren started. "You…" He looked at Lucas full-on, really looked at him for the first time since coming into the store that day. In Lucas's face, his expression, there was more than just the arrogance and narcissism Soren had seen before. There was the intelligence and quixotic nature of TruBishounen.

  "I had to ask Lisa. She's the one who read all of the Narnia books. I've only ever read—"

  "The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe." Soren smiled. "I remember."

  Lucas smiled at him. His expression was mixed wistfulness and recognition.

  The door to the back room swung open and Aaron strode out. He sized them up, looking briefly back and forth, before settling on Lucas as the better target. "Why don't you go check the floor? We've got some new merchandise to shelve tonight. We're going to have to rotate some of the older stock."

  Lucas shrugged. "Fine," he said mildly.

  Aaron hesitated, glaring at Lucas in spite of the reasonable answer, or maybe because of it. "If you're here, Daye, you're here to work, not get hung up on pretty distractions." He leaned against the counter, waiting.

  Lucas stiffened, but said nothing. He brushed past Aaron and moved for the floor. Soren averted his eyes as Aaron looked his way.

  The rest of the evening passed quietly and with a steady thread of work that carried them to the end of their shifts. Before Soren knew it, eight o'clock was upon them.

  "Hey," Lucas said, coming back behind the counter and washing his hands at the sink. "What are you doing tonight?"

  "I…uh…why?" Soren floundered. How was he supposed to respond, after the day before?

  Lucas grinned at him, seeming perfectly at ease. "Well, Tia, Danice and I are going clubbing tonight. Why don't you come? It'll be fun."

  Soren's face went hot. It was for no reason in particular and he hated it, especially knowing his fair skin had to be turning red. "No…I…I've got a lot of stuff to go over tonight." He could have kicked himself. Why not just say he already had plans?

  Because TruBishounen already knew he spent most of his Fridays at home.

  Lucas kept his eyes on him. "You sure?"

  Why are you looking at me like that? Lucas had already made it clear Soren wasn't his type. He wasn't even sure if they could keep up the online friendship they'd formed. He had seen Tru online exactly twice since their meeting yesterday, and both times, the name had disappeared as soon as he had seen it.

  "Yeah," Soren murmured, turning back to the bar. He flicked a long strand of hair over his shoulder, annoyed. "I'm sure."

  He could feel Lucas's eyes on him even after that, though. When Aaron came up front to tell Lucas to go ahead and punch out, a swell of relief broke over the tension Soren hadn't even realized had held him stiff.

  *~*~*

  "Just forget him," Sloane advised later that night, dumping her heavy bag of books onto his bed and sinking beside it. "He's hot, but he's a player, you know? He's probably jerking you around."

  Soren began to protest, but broke off. There was no sense in protesting or saying
he was troubled over it. He was being sent conflicting signals, and moreover, it was in a language that was completely foreign to him. "It's not like I've had a whole lot of practice with this. I have no idea if he only wants to be a friend, or if he's…"

  "If he's interested in you?" Sloane offered, pixie features scrunching up in consideration. "I say, fuck Lucas. Or…er, not. Whatever. Forget him and we'll have ourselves a productive study session, then go down and watch a scary movie after the rest of your family has gone to bed."

  Soren extricated the thick career packet from his bag as he rummaged around for a textbook, and weighed the packet in his hands.

  "What's that?" Sloane asked. "Looks official."

  Soren gave a shrug. "Mom wants me to think about my career options."

  "Ooh." Sloane pursed her lips. "Serious business."

  "You know it." Soren sighed, shook his head, and pitched it into a dark corner of his room.

  How was he supposed to know what he wanted to do for the next five years, let alone the rest of his life? For that matter, how did Angie really know she wanted to be an accountant? How did Cassie know she was going to pursue a career in journalism? Claire never pushed them, yet somehow his sisters knew. Soren, on the other hand, had been steered in one direction, then another, until he was lost in the woods.

  "Thanks for coming over, Sloane," he said, changing the subject.

  Sloane half-crawled over the bed and captured him with one arm, hugging him enthusiastically. "You're my Soren, kid! I couldn't let you be down by yourself on a Friday night. What's a little clubbing compared to that?"

  "Clubbing?"

  "Well, yes." Sloane shrugged and gave him a half-smile. "Danice invited a few of us from work. I think she harbors secret hopes that someday I'll give in to her advances."

  "Huh." Soren knit his brow. "Lucas invited me to the same thing."

  Sloane's eyebrows flew up. "Oh, really?"

  "It's nothing."

  This time, Sloane grabbed him in a headlock, taking him by surprise. "Nothing? Nothing!" she screeched, grinding her knuckles into the crown of his head. "You're beyond modest, you're the absolute end! Soren! I don't think he's nearly as disinterested as you make him out to be!"

  "Geh." Soren sagged in her grip to give her a false sense of security, and then twisted to attack her tickle-points mercilessly. The two of them collapsed on the bed, making Sloane's book bag slide ominously near the edge. Their fight degenerated into a wrestling match, with Sloane giggling helplessly beneath him, trying to gain enough leverage to flip him over.

  A perfunctory knock sounded on his door, then it was pushed open.

  Soren bolted upright, face flushed and hair in total disarray around his face and shoulders. "Mother!" Sloane was still giggling madly, tears streaming down her face, and she didn't even bother trying to sit up.

  Claire looked startled, and then the look changed to faintly speculative. "Sorry to disturb you," she said, though she didn't seem a bit sorry. "I just wanted to check up on the two of you, see if there was anything I could get while you…studied." She looked at Soren.

  Soren raked his hair back, glaring at Claire in return. "I think we're fine, Mom." He knew he was going to hear about this later, and he was already tired of that conversation. "If we need anything, we can get it from the kitchen."

  "All right." She smiled, then pulled Soren's bedroom door shut behind her.

  Sloane exploded with laughter.

  "Shut up!" Soren hissed, mortified. "Don't you know I'm going to hear it from her later? God, she's already asked me if we're dating!"

  "Just tell her that we are," Sloane said. "That will get her off your back. For a while, at least."

  Soren shook his head. "I can't do that—I can't lie about something like that to my mom."

  Sloane's giggles slowly subsided, and she returned to her original line of attack. "So about Lucas…" She opened her book bag, briskly taking a textbook and pad of notepaper from it.

  "Forget it." Soren shook his head and got up from the bed, moving over to the computer desk. "I almost wish I didn't have to see him anymore. At least before I met him yesterday, he never really looked at me. I could have my pointless little crush in peace, because I knew I was beneath his notice. Now it's different."

  "That's sad." Sloane extracted a highlighter and pen. She flipped open her textbook, but didn't look at it.

  Soren shrugged. "That's how it is. Don't tell me you've never had an infatuation like that before?"

  "Oh, I have," Sloane said, tilting her head in a pensive fashion. "But they were movie stars, you know?"

  "Ha, ha," Soren said without humor, turning his computer on. "Anyhow, I want to forget it ever happened. I don't know what game he thinks he's playing."

  "Why don't you ask Danice to schedule you when Lucas isn't working? You know she'll be sympathetic."

  "I don't want to make an issue of it, and she's already done the schedule for next week. It would be too hard to work around both our schedules all semester. I'll get over it."

  Sloane sighed and shook her head. "Has anyone ever told you you're passive-aggressive?"

  "Shut up," Soren said cheerfully, pulling out his planner. He had a history paper to finish, and after that, a comparative literature paper to start that was due on Monday.

  They fell into a groove of silence and studying. Since Soren was an English major and Sloane was a Business major, they didn't have many classes in common, but it helped the both of them to get together and devote large blocks of time to slogging through their work. Soren was terrible at studying alone when he had access to a computer. He usually ended up online, and then three hours passed before he knew it and there would still be a paper due the next day.

  After a little over an hour had passed, Soren signed on. Sloane lifted her head as the telltale chorus of doors creaking open issued from his computer speakers.

  "Sor-ren. We need to finish half our assignments before we watch Scream 4—you already said."

  "I've finished my history paper! I'm just going to check mail and see if Liz is on, I swear. Then I'll sign off and start the comp lit paper."

  "All right, but I'm watching you."

  Soren grinned and forbore from making a 'yes, mommy' crack. He scanned his IM list for familiar names.

  LizTheGreat had been idle for two hours, which meant she was probably out for the night.

  His stomach dropped.

  TruBishounen was online.

  Soren hesitated, fingers poised over the keyboard. It was past ten, well after the time Lucas would have gone out on the clubbing circuit. What was he doing online?

  Soren glanced over his shoulder at Sloane, who had turned her attention back to her macroeconomics text. She would probably tell him to sign off at once. Perversely, that encouraged him.

  Dawntreader: Thought you were going out tonight

  TruBishounen: ha ha, well, about that…it fell through

  Dawntreader: Yeah? It's the weekend, I thought you said you always go out on the weekend at least once..

  TruBishounen: When I'm not working, yeah. I didn't want to go tonight.

  Dawntreader: Oh?

  TruBishounen: Yeah. Wouldn't be any fun without you.

  TruBishounen: Besides, I have to open tomorrow.

  Soren sat back, frowning. His pulse had sped up at the second to last message, and he chided himself for stupidity. Lucas was a player, Sloane had said, and he had seen the evidence of it since first coming to work at the St. Johns Starbucks.

  Dawntreader: I have to go. Homework.

  TruBishounen: Wait, Soren

  Soren signed off. He could feel his heart throbbing in his throat, swallowed thickly, and turned to the closed comparative literature syllabus beside his desk. He was stupid for even wanting to play Lucas's game.

  He cleared his throat. "Sloane?"

  She looked up. "Huh?"

  Soren forced a smile. "You look kind of dazed. Too much studying makes your brains rot—let's go and
get a snack."

  "Sure." She marked her place with her highlighter and sat up, twisting and stretching. She cocked her head. "Soren? You all right?"

  Soren shook his head. "I'm fine." It would take some time, but he'd get over Lucas. Just like everything else in his life that wasn't meant for him.

  Three

  It was beyond dark when Lucas lurched out of bed and switched off his shrilling alarm. He peeled his eyes open through sheer force of will. It was definitely before dawn, and he wasn't looking forward to the days when it would get even darker. It was hard enough to get up at quarter to five as it was. He passed a hand over his rumpled hair, smoothing it back, and turned on the dimmest lamp in the room to rummage through his closet for work clothes. "God…" That was when it hit him.

  Last night, he had ducked out of clubbing on the off chance he could catch Soren online.

  Lucas dressed swiftly, pulling on a pair of fitted black slacks and a white polo shirt with a grimace. It was getting chilly outside unseasonably early, crisp cold days in advance of the typical Oregon rainy season weather, but he could throw on a jacket, and the store was always kept comfortably warm. He tried not to think, but inside of him was the restless knowledge that Soren had blown him off last night. This morning, they would open the store together.

  What made the situation even more frustrating, was that Lucas didn't know for certain what he wanted.

  He stumbled to the bathroom to finish getting ready to face the morning. Each time he performed another mindless task—brushing his teeth, giving his hair a quick comb-through—he found his thoughts drifting. Hazy fantasies coursed pleasantly through him, and he went with the flow for a while, until he realized the track his distinctly smutty thoughts had chosen. His toothbrush clattered into his cup beside the sink, and he leaned against the counter, staring into his reflection.

  Since when had Soren's face begun to replace the anonymous women in his fantasies?

  Lucas growled a low, uncomplimentary curse at his reflection and went to the kitchen. At the store, they were allowed to mark out broken pastries, taking them off inventory to donate to a shelter around the corner, and half the time, Lucas made his breakfast off those. Soren was the kind of person who looked at him reproachfully when he snagged one of those off-inventory pastries and made him feel as if he'd done something terribly wrong. Lucas dwelled on that thought for a moment, shoving a mug of water into the microwave to prepare some hot tea. He'd never really given Soren a second look before.