Boys didn't buy boys presents. Period. Not without a real reason like a birthday or Christmas or because your mom told you to after you destroyed their bike on a shitty ramp you built yourself. Not unless of course, you had a big fat stupid crush on them…and even then, it wasn’t common.
June expected more of himself, really.
Tell him he owes you twelve bucks. Make this seem like no big deal.
He swallowed. “You said you broke the other one, didn't you?”
Aaron should have looked confused or amused or both, but instead, he looked thoughtful. He shifted from foot to foot, turning pink and smiling softly. No one gave him a right to look so damn sweet. June was gonna get diabetes for God’s sake.
“So, does this mean I can climb the tree again?”
June gawked at him.
“What!? No! No, absolutely not.” He tossed the box of Cheez-Its on the table and rounded on Aaron. He had to stand on his toes to get eye-level with him. “I am NOT picking two-hundred thorns out of your ass again.”
Aaron laughed, bright and airy and so…alive it frightened June. His face felt hot.
“Oh, come on—”
“No. You know what? Give it back.” June held his hand out. “Give it back. You haven’t learned your lesson.”
Instead of setting the yellow and black box in June’s hands, Aaron stuck it into the back pockets of his cargo shorts and grinned. He was unaffected by June’s glare, maybe even fueled by it. June couldn’t fathom what was about to happen.
Eighteen years, many of which he’s been secure in his sexuality, never could have prepared June for the taller boy leaning into him, throwing one arm around his neck and pulling him into a hug that should have been reserved for opposite-sex friendships.
“Thanks, June.”
Stunned and heart thumping he shoved at the boy.
“S-Stop! Jesus Christ, could you be any more of a sap? I-It’s just a camera!”
Laughing at his expense, Aaron backed off. Snatched the box of Cheez-Its for himself and made a beeline for the shitty guest room again.
June leaned against the kitchen table for support, already deciding today was the day he told Angie about this stupid prep and his stupid crush on him. He had to get out of this house before he exploded.
As if to rub salt in his wounds, his beloved feline trotted after Aaron; tail held high with delight. Nail. In. The Coffin.
The ice cream shop door was jammed shut by the number of people on the inside when June arrived. He was sweaty from another mile walk he did not intend to make. It was another blistering day; one that called for a root beer float or a frozen lemonade and apparently, every goddamn teenager that lived around the lake.
“Excuse me!” He squeezed his way in between a mom holding a toddler and a boy a little younger than him with bad facial hair. Both of them shot him nasty looks as he shuffled his way past the display case and the line.
He stopped at the register, peering behind the counter at none other than Charlie. He was scooping frantically beside a woman who was not the woman he was looking for.
“Charlie!” June yelled, interrupting the order he was trying to fill. The pale, lanky boy looked up to him, brown eyes screaming for mercy.
“Where is Angie?”
Charlie wiped his brow and opened his mouth to reply, but was promptly cut off by Angie’s mother.
“Oy! Mijo! You get out of here we have too many customers!” She waved an ice cream scoop frantically in June's direction.
Angie’s mother was one of the toughest moms June knew. She had incredible expectations for her only daughter and tended to put her work above all. Which wasn’t to say she also wasn’t one of June’s favorite people. What with her sharp tongue and wit and willingness to help people in need. She’d given June a summer job alongside Angie when he needed the money but paid him under the table so when he wanted to go gallivanting off, it wouldn't affect his work history in a negative way. She’d changed his diapers when he was a toddler. Helped him study physics when he had almost failed the course. Treated him like her only son. Loved him like one too.
“Where is Angie?!” he begged. She should be here. It was the busiest time in the afternoon. Angie always worked this shift.
Mrs. Delgado clicked her tongue at him and gestured toward the back room. “If you go back there you better come out with an apron!”
June weighed his options and decided he probably wouldn't get the chance to talk to Angie any other way. Still, he hesitated until the bell to the shop chimed again, and another family shuffled their way in. They could probably use the extra hands anyway.
June jumped gracefully over the counter and darted toward the back room where Angie would be. He stopped to snag an apron off the hook like instructed and threw it on over his clothes before the icy air of the freezer hit him. It felt incredible on his flushed skin—one of the best parts about working here in summer.
“Ang!”
He found her cursing, frantically trying to reach a tub of neapolitan on the top shelf. She stood on a half-broken wooden stool that wobbled if you put your weight too far on one leg.
“J-June!” She let herself down immediately. “Oh my God, I’m so glad you’re here, I was just about to go get the beanpole.”
Angie looked a lot like her mother when she was in the midst of a chaotic workday. Brown curls piled together in a tight bun on her head, sweat dripping down her temples and eyes round with worry like she hadn’t expected this for the millionth time.
“The beanpole?” June snorted, taking her place on the wobbly stool and managing to hook a finger around the wire handle to grab the bucket. He passed it to her before climbing down. “I’m guessing you mean Charlie?”
“He is a walking tree.” Angie huffed. “But my mom would kill me if I took him away from scooping again.”
“Not your fault you’re short.”
“I keep telling her that!” Angie grabbed another bucket of mint chip much lower to the ground and made for the door. “Anyway, what are you doing here?”
June caught her by the wrist and took one of the buckets. She let him have it gratefully.
“Apparently working.”
“Your own fault. You know not to come inside the shop at this time. Mom always needs extra hands.”
“It’s fine.” June followed her out, wishing he’d actually considered the time when he left the cabin in a hurry to get away from Aaron. If he had thought this plan through a little better, then he would have dug out the pair of Converse still in the suitcase he had packed. At least then his flip flops wouldn’t stick to the tile floors.
The front of the shop was in disarray when they came back out. Ms. Delgado instantly ordered something in Spanish at Angie and then gave June a skeptic look. He gave her a shit-eating grin and gestured to the apron, and the bucket of mint chip like it wasn’t obvious he had listened to her.
“Scoop.” She snapped her fingers at the extra space on her right side and turned back to the customers she was helping.
June obeyed silently. He would have to wait to talk to Angie once it slowed down enough to catch a breath. He hauled the bucket of ice cream into its correct spot in the display case with a grunt. Scooping wasn’t the worst thing in the world anyway, and it had been too long since he last did this with friends. He glanced down the line toward Angie, who was busy at the register; all smiles as she took a twenty and broke the change.
Charlie stood closest to her looking extra frazzled as he spooned toppings and squirted whip cream onto the next order. He wasn’t exactly a friend of June’s, but he supposed after how rudely he’d left last time, the kid deserved a little slack. He’d make a point to get along with the beanpole from here on.
The afternoon gave away to evening quickly after that. Surrounded by the sounds of young teens howling laughter and babies crying and occasional pop song coming through the tiny radio speakers in the corners of the room. June reveled in it; allowed it to coat him in memories and old feelings and for
get all about what he had initially come here for.
He could picture his sisters sitting in the booth near the front window with glitter nail polish and tans you couldn’t pay for. August would have streaks of purple and blue in her hair, straightened because she, out of all of them, had gotten the curlier locks from their mother’s side and didn't like to deal with them. Their sister July (yes, they were all named after the summer months, get over it) would chatter away about what high school boys she found cute working the docks this year. She’d be wearing a tube top their father hated.
June’s mother would be standing near the wall, cordless phone in one hand and notepad in the other as she read the order off to the only pizza place within twenty miles of the lake. They would take forever to deliver, but none of the kids would care because time had no meaning here, and pizza was a welcome substance no matter what.
Tranced by the monotonous rhythm of scooping ice cream and lost in his memories, June was unaware of how much the shop had cleared out. They finally caught up to the last customer, and he had to pause to realize no one else waited for him. Everyone had ventured back outside to indulge in the last of the sunlight before it gave away to night. To get one last swim in the lake. Angie’s mom took that as her ticket to leave, stopping only to give June and her other two employees hugs before making a hasty retreat to her office.
“Phew! What a mess!” Angie squatted behind the register, head in her arms and jean mini-skirt straining against her legs. June didn't miss the way Charlie’s eyes wandered down around there.
“It’s gonna take forever to clean tonight.” The boy huffed at the sound his sneaker made peeling up from a syrup spill.
“Another day in paradise.” June sighed, stretching. His arms would be sore tomorrow from the strain today, but it was a welcome burn. He looked up at the clock on the wall. It was only just past seven. There would be another rush before they closed around nine and he didn't exactly intend to stick around after that. He felt guilty enough about leaving Aaron alone all afternoon.
Speaking of which, there was still a purpose to his visit he hadn’t touched on yet. Angie didn't know a thing about Aaron, and he was certain he couldn't keep the crush to himself much longer. He could keep a friendship a secret from her, but not this.
However, Charlie’s presence put a damper on June’s plans. He didn’t need the skinny beanpole kid having ammo on him so soon. They barely knew each other, and if June was going to try and get along with him, then he needed to feel at least a little superior.
“Hey…” Angie rose from her place, eyes brightening. She looked up at the speaker closest to her, and then tugged open a drawer full of sharpies and batteries and miscellaneous other things. She found the stereo remote and pointed it toward the machine. “This is my song.”
June listened to the volume crawl up toward inappropriate. A familiar beat bumping back at him and a sassy grin on his best friend’s face. She took one last look around to make sure no one watched and started to shrug into the music.
“Oh no, watch out,” June teased as she wagged her eyebrows at him, sidestepping around Charlie who definitely had no rhythm and was definitely too bewildered by a pretty girl suddenly dancing in his presence to do much other than stand there.
Luckily, June was gay, and therefore immune to the female hips. He waited until Angie reached for his hands, made a show of rolling his eyes to the moon and back, and allowed her to move his upper body side to side.
He may or may not have a soft spot for Beyoncé. But then again, who didn't?
Angie knew the dance well and had proved it to people many times, but thankfully, a dirty ice cream shop floor was not the place for rolling around. She yanked her hair tie out and whipped her hair back. Hips swaying and popping and encouraging June to bob along to the beat. He mimicked her movements when she turned around and pressed her butt against the front of him. She mouthed the words “crazy in love” during the chorus and laughed loudly during the rest of it. Occasionally clapping her hands or trotting over to Charlie to dance against him—trying to inspire some movement from a lost cause. He looked like he might burst into flames.
Poor kid was probably fighting the erection of the century.
Angie came back to June. Gave him that look only a best friend who wanted a dance partner could. Grabbed him by the hand again and raised it as high as she could.
June gave in, caught the bridge of the song somewhere deep in his soul as Angie sang along and let it infect him. He strutted to the chorus across the sticky floor with his best friend.
There was no saying if this would be the last time he got to dance with her. There was no saying exactly when new memories would become old memories either. Fear of losing that made him shameless. He twirled Angie behind the register, let out a catcall that turned into a laugh and embraced the moment so thoroughly he hadn’t heard the bell of the shop door opening.
Knee deep in the moment, June failed to realize he was making the second biggest mistake of the day—and possibly of his life.
Arms in the air, ass sticking out, flushed and covered in ice cream residue was how June got caught. The flash of a disposable camera rendered him helpless and frozen. The world stopped turning.
The boy standing beyond the counter was familiar and so, so handsome under the shitty fluorescent lights. But he had just taken a picture of June dancing to Beyoncé and therefore, had to die.
Charlie dove for the radio remote to put it lower, ashamed in a totally different way than June. And Angie—goddamn her—she laughed like a hyena at his expense. She didn't know Aaron. How funny this must be to her—to have a good-looking stranger taking his picture like he was some tourist attraction. Humiliation bubbled something fierce in his gut, and everything regarding his reputation promptly flung itself out the window and into the lake.
“Beyoncé, huh?” Aaron chuckled; twirled the camera around in his hand innocently.
“Imma kill you,” June said, burying his embarrassment and yanking the apron off him instantly. He chucked it at Charlie’s head, kicked his flip-flops off because who could run in those and launched himself over the counter at his newest friend.
“Shit.” Aaron took two steps back and made for the door.
“RUN!” Angie cackled, hurrying to follow them. This wouldn’t be the most absurd thing June had ever done, but he knew Angie would never miss a show (or a fight). She was supportive like that.
Aaron was faster than he looked; hauling ass into the dirt parking lot and giving his red convertible a wide berth. He glanced back, green eyes impish and wild for the first time June had ever seen. The disposable camera clutched tightly to his chest.
“GET BACK HERE, AARON!” June snarled, disturbing a group of adults sitting around talking at the mouth of the parking lot. They snickered at his expense as he passed.
Aaron continued away from the shop, down the only obvious path toward the wooden docks of the lake. Once June’s bare feet hit the grass, he made up for the distance between them. Adrenalin fueled him; made him feel like he was flying. There was no way in hell he was going to let Aaron have proof of him dancing to Beyoncé. No way.
Seconds before June caught him, Aaron made the smart decision to lob the disposable camera into the grass where it would be safe from harm at least for a moment. June, intent on capturing the teen, ignored it. They hit the docks at a full sprint, but inevitably had no place to go after that. June chased Aaron to the very end of it, watched him turn around and put his hands up in warning.
June didn't have time to stop at this point, even if he wanted to.
He crashed into Aaron full force, flinging them both over the edge and into the murky lake.
So, the plan to tell Angie about his new friend and new crush didn't exactly go as expected.
He and Aaron sat, sopping wet and wrapped in beach towels at a booth in the ice cream shop, casting very different expressions at each other while Angie swept the floor around them. She was delighted; all teet
h and sunshine freckles, occasionally whistling along to the radio. The very instrument that had gotten June into this situation to begin with.
Aaron was also quite pleased. Green eyes twinkling because he’d managed to find the camera in the grass before June and get back to his car in time to lock it in the glove compartment where it would be safe and sound. June, who had gotten trapped in the mud and reeds along the shore, had collapsed in defeat upon pulling himself to land like a fat seal. Aaron won this round, but June made him swear never to let that picture see the light of day. Especially not in his presence. He might even have to hide the body of the darkroom technician who developed that film.
When all was said and done, and the battle was lost, June found himself guided back to the ice cream shop by his best friend who he owed a favor or two for all the trouble. She’d dug up a couple of towels for him and Aaron, and then sat them down for a nice long…overdue meeting. She made Charlie stay behind the counter to help the last wave of customers, and began the interrogation process.
“So, you mean to tell me that you two have been living together for the last two weeks?” She shook her head in disbelief. “June, I can’t believe you didn’t bring him down here to meet me!”
“I didn’t want you to scare him off,” June grumbled, picking at a paint chip along the edge of the table. His best friend could do without the guilt. He had enough of that already.
“As if!” Angie set her hand on her hip and gawked at him.
If there was one good thing about this whole situation, it was that Angie was very in tuned to June’s feelings and actions, and there was no further need to confess about his crush to her. She would see it for herself. Would sniff it out like a bloodhound and then pounce on him about it later.
Aaron squirmed in the seat across from June, perhaps intimidated by Angie’s gaze despite his chipper mood.
“I didn’t know June had a job here.” He looked at her and then back to June. “Why didn't you tell me this is where you ran off to?”
June pressed his head into his hands and groaned. “I don’t work here, Aaron. I just… Was afraid that…that this would get back to my parents somehow. Like if Angie’s mom finds out you’re at the cabin and then calls and tells my mom.”
The Maple Effect Page 10
