Life on Pause

by Erin McLellan

  “You okay, Rus?” Todd murmured about five minutes into the bus ride back to the school. Todd was sitting on the edge of the bus seat adjacent to the driver’s.

  “Yeah. Why wouldn’t I be okay?”

  “Well … you’ve slapped your palm on the steering wheel twice and now you’re wringing your hands around it so hard the rubbery stuff is coming off.”

  Rusty glanced down, and his hands were covered in flakes of foamy rubber.

  Piece of crap bus.

  “I’m fine.”

  “Yeah, save that bull for someone who doesn’t know you as well as I do,” Todd grumbled under his breath.

  One of the senior girls at the back of the bus started singing a song from last year’s Spring Concert—“Hushabye Mountain”—and once the other kids joined in, Rusty relaxed a little. He didn’t have to worry about being overheard if all the kids were belting like they were contestants on The Voice.

  “I’m so mad at him, and it’s not really fair. It’s as much my fault. It’s more my fault, actually,” Rusty admitted.

  “It’s normal to be mad after a breakup, regardless of fault. You just need to get your mind off of it. Have some fun, maybe. We should come back for the shows tonight. The headliner is the Turnpike Troubadours. We’ll listen to some great music, eat a funnel cake, get drunk.”

  God, that sounded good. And Rusty kind of missed fun outings with Todd. The only problem was that Niles would inevitably be around.

  “He’ll be there.”

  “Good,” Todd said fiercely. “Let him see you having fun with another guy. Let him see you hanging out with your ex. Let him see what he lost when he let you go.”

  Rusty glanced at Todd, surprised by his vehemence, but he was staring out his window, his whole body tense.

  When Rusty pulled the bus into the school parking lot, a large crowd of parents was already waiting in their vehicles to pick up their kids.

  “We’re not done talking about this,” Todd said as he exited the bus. Rusty pasted on a smile for the choir kids as they filed past him.

  They only had to wait for about ten minutes for the last students to be picked up, but before he could give Todd the drop, Todd planted himself against the door of the bus, which Rusty had to drive back to the bus barn where he’d parked his car.

  “Go with me,” Todd begged. “We haven’t hung out in forever.”

  “There’s a reason for that,” Rusty said gently. Todd’s cheeks flamed. “I doubt your boyfriend would like us hanging out.”

  “That’s not a problem, believe me,” Todd said, offhandedly. “I miss you. And you need a night out—one that isn’t with your sister and Margo. Tahlequah Brewing Company is going to have a beer stand tonight. I can buy you a bunch of fancy beer you’ll never appreciate.”

  “Oh God. I don’t know. I don’t want to rub it in his face, either. It seems cruel to show up at his work with my ex.” Especially since finding out about Todd seemed to have been the impetus for Niles breaking up with him.

  Something—like vulnerability, or maybe despair—flashed across Todd’s face. And Rusty hadn’t seen anything like that in Todd’s expression. Not ever. Not the few times they’d fought. Not when Todd’s dad had gotten on his case about keeping up appearances. Not when Todd had broken up with him.

  “Please, Rusty. Maybe I need a night out like this too, with a friend, and you love bluegrass music. It’ll be nice. We both need a nice night.”

  And Rusty was incapable of saying no in the face of Todd’s pleading and dejection.

  Later that night, when Todd pulled his car into the overflow parking lot at Bushyhead Homestead, jitters exploded in Rusty’s stomach. Though the parking lot was full and the grounds were packed with people milling around everywhere, he was nervous he’d be forced into another confrontation with Niles.

  Todd and Rusty flashed their wristbands to the ticket taker and made their way to the beer stand where Todd got them both overpriced IPAs. As they ambled around the pseudo-biergarten Rusty couldn’t help but look over his shoulder, hoping, or dreading, to catch a glimpse of Niles. Everything about this night was making him uncomfortable.

  Even Todd.

  Maybe especially Todd.

  Speak of the devil.

  Todd plopped a basket of nachos on the picnic table in front of Rusty, grinned, then threw an arm around Rusty’s shoulders and squeezed, jostling him roughly.

  “Chow down, sweet cheeks. This is an obscenely expensive order of concession-stand nachos, so I hope you enjoy it,” Todd joked. He removed his arm, but it had lingered a moment too long.

  It wasn’t the first time Todd had touched him that night. When they had been waiting in line earlier at the beer stand, Todd had bumped him playfully and gripped his biceps after laughing at one of Rusty’s jokes. All the touching was giving Rusty weird déjà vu back to when him and Todd had been together. Todd hadn’t crossed the line into true flirting, sticking to boisterous rowdiness, but it almost felt like foreplay. And Rusty didn’t know what to do with that, so he ignored it.

  After about an hour, during which Rusty and Todd finished their nachos, drank a couple of beers, and listened to a local red dirt band, Rusty finally saw Niles talking to a pair of roadies who were lugging around heavy equipment. Niles was still wearing his historical clothing. The getup seemed bizarre in the evening hours, like he was a punch line to someone else’s joke. Though, Rusty couldn’t help but admit that those chaps did something for him. They perfectly framed Niles’s pert little butt and accentuated his mile-long legs.

  Rusty kind of wanted to lick his boots. That was definitely the beer talking, but it was talking loud. The good music didn’t help.

  If Todd had thought this outing would help Rusty get over Niles, he was sadly mistaken so far. Instead, it was getting Rusty revved up for angry breakup sex. Country music could do that to a person.

  Todd threw his arm around Rusty’s shoulders again and pressed his lips right up to Rusty’s ear. “We should find a seat on the hill before the Turnpike Troubadours play. It might get crowded up there if we don’t move now.”

  Todd had brought a blanket for them to sit on, so they made their way over to the hill in front of the stage. The stage area had about fifty chairs set up directly in front, but the gentle hill behind the chairs could hold a crowd of hundreds and was quickly filling up.

  Rusty had never been to this festival, but Todd explained that it had been a staple in Bison Hills when he was growing up. Evidently, in the last five years, the festival had started pulling more nationally recognized acts by branching out to country and red dirt bands, but for many, the draw was the local Oklahoma artists. The two acts before the Turnpike Troubadours were both popular bluegrass bands from the western Oklahoma bar circuit.

  The group on stage fired up a slow country waltz, and a couple that had been sitting a few feet away from Rusty and Todd stood up to dance. There wasn’t a clear dance floor, but couples were sprouting up all over the place. The song drifted slow and sad across the crowd, and the plaintive lyrics made Rusty’s stomach ache.

  “If we were still together, would you have danced with me out here in front of everyone like that couple over there?” Todd asked.

  They had both avoided “what if” conversations since their breakup, and Rusty didn’t want to wade into turbulent waters. But Todd’s expression was a little broken, so he answered.

  “Of course I would have. I know we were discreet at school and stuff, but Todd, I would have danced with you anywhere.” Todd nodded miserably and kept his eyes glued to the blanket. Rusty frowned. “What’s wrong? Why would you ask that?”

  “I dumped Mike a few weeks ago.”

  Rusty’s pulse quickened to an unsteady drumbeat in his ears, and suddenly all that touching didn’t feel quite so innocuous.

  “What happened?”

  Todd scowled at the buffalo-check blanket beneath them, so Rusty tipped his chin up with a light bump of his knuckles.

  “He i
sn’t out,” Todd explained. “It was always such a secret. We hardly ever went anywhere in public, and when we did, he acted so weird. Once we were eating lunch at this little breakfast place in Tulsa, and we ran into his aunt. Mike said I was his coworker and that it was a business lunch. It was so obvious she didn’t believe him. He works at the Apple store. I’m pretty sure Apple Geniuses don’t have business lunches. And it made me feel so dirty, to be denied like that.”

  “You know, everyone is different, Todd. Mike is young. It takes some people longer to come out than others. Not everyone has the courage to do it like you did.”

  “It made me miss you,” Todd whispered. Their eyes met, and a blush crept up Todd’s neck and cheeks.

  “I’ve never explicitly come out to my parents either. I mean, they know, but we’ve never talked about it.”

  Todd dipped his chin again, and scrunched up his nose a little. “They knew we were together for three years. Your mom used to like your pictures of us on Facebook. And I don’t believe for a second that you would have denied me if we had run into them or any other family member in some café.”

  Rusty wasn’t exactly comfortable with the comparison going on here. “Are you okay?” he finally asked. “Breakups suck, but another Mike will come along.” He almost laughed at the hypocrisy in his statement considering he’d been grumpy and pining for Niles daily.

  “Yeah,” Todd replied, but there was no way Rusty could ignore the disappointment in his voice.

  Niles was going to puke. Watching Rusty and The Todd linger around the beer stand had been hard enough, but watching Rusty touch Todd’s chin was a new kind of pain.

  The slow, sweet music didn’t help. Niles had never really been one to notice music, but since Rusty had come into his life, there seemed to be a constant soundtrack. And this was the heartbreak music. This was the moment his lover moved on because Niles was a fucking screw-up, and for whatever reason, the universe had decided it was his duty to bear witness.

  Niles leaned back against a tree at the top of the hill from where he could easily see any disasters around the stage should they happen. Other staff, specifically the event staff that the Homestead contracted out, all knew where to find him. It was only an unhappy accident that he also had a clear view of Todd and Rusty.

  The Bellamy Brothers wrapped up their last song, and then there was a mass exodus to the Porta Potties, food trucks, and drink stands while the roadies changed over the stage. The headliner was next so there would be about a thirty-minute intermission while they tested instruments and microphones.

  Niles kept his eyes trained on Rusty and Todd. Rusty was wearing jeans that showed off his bubble butt and a green sweatshirt that would surely bring out the gold in his brown eyes. His hair was effortlessly waved back from his forehead, and his stubble accentuated his sharp jaw. Niles wanted to crawl into his lap and lick his mouth. Or just sit by him again and enjoy some good music and even better company.

  But instead, Rusty was with The Todd. That jerk. Todd, who looked like a Ken Doll’s more handsome brother and was probably hung and good in bed.

  Maybe Niles really had been the rebound, the bait, that got Todd to crawl on back. That thought made him want to curl up in a Porta Potty and cry.

  Since Niles was watching Rusty and Todd so intently, there was no way to miss the moment Todd stood up and walked toward the line at the Tahlequah Brewing Company’s stand. After Todd made it through the queue and bought two beers, he spotted Niles and frowned. Niles didn’t know what to do—he was obviously staring like a total creeper—so he waved a little awkwardly, and Todd scowled back.

  Awesome.

  Niles risked a peek toward Rusty, but now the crowd was chaotic with movement and he couldn’t see him.

  Todd materialized in front of him like an apparition and thrust two cups of beer into his hands. “Will you hold these for me?”

  Without waiting for an answer, Todd dropped to one knee to tie the leather laces on his stupid, trendy boat shoes. Talking to Todd right now was honestly his worst nightmare, but he didn’t see an easy escape. When Todd stood again, he was all up in Niles’s space, and Niles couldn’t back up because he was against the tree.

  “You’re an idiot,” Todd said matter-of-factly.

  “Uh, all right.” Niles glanced around, panic sinking his stomach.

  “But so am I.”

  “What?”

  Sweat gathered in Niles’s armpits and behind his knees. He was not made for ex-boyfriend drama.

  “I ruined three years with the best guy, the best family, in the fucking world because I’m an idiot and a coward and completely self-absorbed. What’s your excuse?”

  Niles really wished The Todd didn’t smell so good or that he wasn’t as pretty up close as he was from a distance.

  “Um, ditto?” he choked out.

  Todd’s lips curled into a tiny smile. “I’m gonna try to fix my mess. What about you?”

  “I don’t know what you mean,” Niles managed. Todd took the beers from his hands, and Niles immediately crossed his arms over his chest. He wanted to crawl into a hole and hide.

  “What I mean is that I miss Russell. I mean that I regret every moment I’ve spent without him and I’m going to try to get him back. I mean that I hate that our breakup didn’t faze him for longer than an evening, but he’s been moping over you for two weeks.”

  “Oh.” Niles sounded stupid, but he couldn’t think straight. Fear bloomed alongside hope that Rusty was as torn up as him, that Niles wasn’t the only one who was heartbroken.

  “Yeah. ‘Oh.’ So are you going to do anything about that?”

  “I don’t know what I could do. I’ve tried to talk to him, but he won’t talk to me.”

  Todd huffed. “That’s what I suspected. He’s an idiot too, then.”

  This little chat was getting way too cozy for comfort.

  “Okay, I should probably, you know, go see to the stage. Or something,” Niles said, but his getaway plan was evidently not convincing because Todd didn’t react except to roll his beautiful blue eyes.

  “You want him, right?” Todd asked, conversationally. “As more than a friend, obviously. I think he thinks you want to be his friend again, but anyone with eyes can see you want him.”

  Anger—bright and bitter—snapped through Niles. “I don’t see how that is any of your fucking business.”

  Todd took a step back and nodded, almost like he agreed, and Niles sucked in an unsteady breath. He did not have the social skills to deal with this pissing match.

  “Fair enough. I can respect that,” Todd said.

  “Uh, thanks?” Niles would have understood this conversation much better if Todd’s voice weren’t so kind. It’d be a lot easier to hate him if he were awful. But he was The Todd McGower and as perfect as ever.

  “Look, Rusty’s my best friend, and we work together every day. I want him back, that’s true. But mostly I want him to be happy. Think about that, okay? See you later, Niles.”

  Todd turned on his heels, not sloshing a single drop of his beer, and strode off like he was working a runway. Niles was breathless, and embarrassingly enough, close to tears. He knew he shouldn’t leave the area in case someone needed him, but he couldn’t stand there like a crybaby. He hurried away to the main house, which was on lockdown for the night. Niles flashed the security guard his badge, and she let him into the house.

  That inexplicable conversation had him all twisted up inside. He had no idea what Todd was trying to convey to him—if he was trying to warn Niles off or if he was encouraging him to keep trying with Rusty. He sat on the bottom step of the staircase that led to the second-floor bedrooms, trembling and slightly dizzy, until the threat of a breakdown, the threat of rending apart from confusion and anger and inadequacy passed.

  Niles eventually made it back to his spot by the tree in time to catch the second half of the headliner’s set. The wind had picked up, and he was thankful for his suede jacket, even if it wasn’t qui
te heavy enough to keep the chill from covering him in gooseflesh. A handful of his docents lumbered past, totally ignoring him, which was absolutely fine. They weren’t working this evening. He watched them for a few minutes, and then tried to distract himself by counting the cowboy hats in the crowd.

  But he couldn’t keep his eyes from straying back to Rusty and Todd, no matter how hard he tried. They were on their blanket but didn’t appear to be listening to the music. Instead, their heads were close together and Todd was gazing at Rusty intently. And then, right when the song swelled up into a romantic, nostalgic crescendo, Todd leaned in and captured Rusty’s lips.

  Niles gasped like he’d been punched. It hurt like he’d been punched.

  He should turn around. Holy shit. He should get away from here. It was doing him no good to watch.

  But watch he did.

  He watched when Todd cupped Rusty’s cheek. He watched when Rusty gently gripped Todd’s wrist. He watched when Rusty brought his other hand up, pulled back from the kiss, and rested his thumb in the perfect cleft of Todd’s Captain America chin.

  The song ended, and Niles felt as if all of the air had been sucked out of him. He couldn’t breath and his throat hurt. Rusty and Todd were staring into each other’s eyes with an intensity that cut Niles to his core. He finally ripped his gaze from them, and as he did so, a tear slipped down his cheek. He brushed it away and gritted his teeth.

  He would not cry here in his dumb work costume surrounded by all of Bison Hills. He would not let some stupid drama with an ex-lover prevent him from doing his job.

  He glanced back down the hill, unable to help himself. Todd rose abruptly and strode off, and Rusty hurried to gather up the blanket and follow him. Todd didn’t seem happy—he was glowering—but for all Niles knew, they could by speeding off to fuck.