Everything in me felt cold. “I guess he did.”
“We’re always watching the Badgers on TV, but we mostly see you sitting on the bench. I guess he just figured…” He waved a hand.
I blew out a breath and didn’t even try to hide it. “I don’t major in football, Rog.” My voice rose, which was stupid, but I couldn’t help it. “In fact, I just got an A in Applied Physiology yesterday, which is one of the hardest courses, so that doesn’t sound like bombing out, does it?”
Rog shook his head and moved toward the door. “No. I guess not. Sorry about that, Bub. Like I say, good to see you.”
I sighed softly. “Good to see you too.” I turned my back to look through the work orders, but I was blinking way too hard. Hell, I couldn’t blame Roger. What the fuck did he know from Adam?
I’d sorted the work orders and looked through the tools when the side door opened, and Armando Alvarez came in. “Hey, Armando.” I glanced at the clock. “You’re early.”
“Hi, Bubba.” He had kind of a funny look on his face. Tight.
“Everything okay?”
“Yeah, fine.” He walked into the back room where employees kept their stuff and came out a few minutes later in coveralls and minus his coat and hat. I didn’t know Armando well since he’d only worked for my dad about a year. He was young. Probably only a year or two older than me.
I started to tell Armando that we should start on the old Ford truck Ben Alman had left because he’d paid extra for fast service, but Armando walked right to it with tools at the ready. I said, “Give me a minute to get my coveralls on, and I’ll help.”
He didn’t reply, but when I came out, he was already hard at work. A fast glance showed he knew exactly what to do, so I started on replacing the battery on the car in the back. I called over, “I never saw anybody in town with a Prius before.”
He raised his head. “Newcomers.”
When I looked at the clock again, the sky was mostly light, and it was time to unlock for customers. I said, “Isn’t Mikey supposed to be here?”
Armando nodded. “Yeah.”
When I walked to the front door, I saw my father pull into the lot and stop. Leaving the truck running with a guy in the passenger seat, he jogged up to the office just as I unlocked. As he walked in, he glanced at his watch like he had to be sure I was on time opening. That was my dad all over.
He frowned at me. “You understand everything?”
“Yeah, unless there’s something I don’t know about. I reviewed the work orders.”
He nodded.
I asked, “Isn’t Mikey supposed to be here? He’s on the schedule.”
“The fucker’s always late.”
I shrugged. “What’s here now, Armando and I can manage, so it doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. I pay the asshole for being lazy.”
I didn’t comment. Dad had hired Mikey, and everyone knew he was pretty worthless, but he’d been a big quarterback on my high school team after I graduated, and that was gold to Dad. I nodded toward the truck. The guy sitting there had kind of long hair, which was weird since Dad hated anyone that looked like a hippy to him. “Who’s your friend? Do I know him?”
“No. Just a guy I know.”
“Is he okay?”
“Has to have surgery. It might go over until tomorrow, so I’ll let you know.”
I frowned. “I told you I have to be back at school tomorrow.”
“I don’t give a shit about fake football.”
“Dad, I have a lot of stuff on my schedule. I’ve got exams in two classes on Monday.”
A muscle jumped in his jaw. His voice started low and got louder on every word. “You don’t need your fucking classes. Everyone from the teachers to the janitor knows you’re no good at school and never have been. You need to be doing what you know how to do, which is right the fuck here. Stop pretending you fit into that rich-bitch school. Hell, they’re laughing at you, boy.”
My heart wanted to hammer out of my chest, but I tried to keep my voice even. “I’m not staying tomorrow. Armando’s really good. There’s no reason you need me.”
“Armando. Fuck that.”
“He was here early, knew exactly what to do, and hasn’t stopped since he came in. I can show him how to use the register if he doesn’t know.”
Dad super-frowned. “I’ll just make sure I come back in time, and thanks the fuck for nothing.”
“I told you I couldn’t stay, dammit. You told me you needed me one day when you already knew it would be more. You lied.” I took a breath. “You said you had someone else you could ask. Ask them.” I turned and walked back into the shop and slammed the connecting door behind me.
In the shop, Armando was looking up from the truck engine with a little smile on his face. The car door slammed outside, and the truck engine revved. Yeah, my dad was pissed, but damn. I walked back over to the Prius.
They’re laughing at you. How many times had I heard that from my old man about something? You missed that tackle. They’re laughing at you. You’re only second string. They’re laughing at you. You got a C in English. Your teacher’s laughing at you.
Goddamn it. I tried to tell myself it was only because he really wanted me in the shop, but fuck. Sometimes I thought he just liked to make fun of me. When would I ever fucking learn?
After a couple beats, Armando said, “So, you really go to Madison?”
I snapped, “What, you think I’m gaslighting the whole town?”
He shrugged. “No offense, man. I only know what your old man tells me.”
“Yeah. I go to Madison.” I tried to focus on the car, but the side door swung open and in walked—no staggered—Mikey. He was almost as tall as me and had been decent looking in high school, but he’d put on fat, and there were circles under his eyes.
“Oh fuck. Hi, Bubba.”
“You’re late, Mikey.”
“Yeah, alarm didn’t go off.” He slurred his words and weaved a little getting across the garage to the back room.
I straightened up. “Hold on, Mikey.” I walked over to him. He was big, but I was bigger. As I got closer, the waves of alcohol washed over me. “You’re drunk.”
“Not as drunk as I wajz las night.” He laughed.
“Get out. Go home and sleep it off. You can’t be around our customers’ cars in this condition.”
“Your dad never makes me go home.”
“I’m not my dad.”
He barked a laugh. “Yer sure not. Yer jusht a big loser who can’t get off the Badger bench.”
I stuck out my hand. “Give me your keys.”
“Not on yer life, loser.”
I grabbed him around the chest and stuck my hand in his pocket, feeling for keys.
“Get yer hands off me, faggot. I always knew you were queer.”
Trying not to grip him as hard as I wanted to, which would have broken his fucking ribs, I switched hands, pulled his keys from his baggy jeans, stuck them in my own pocket, and then frog-walked him to the side door. I opened it and threw him out. “Walk home and sober up.”
He fell on his ass and yelled, “I’m gonna tell the whole town that Bubba’s queer for me.” He laughed.