SPIN

There could not have possibly been a worse moment in Chris's life. Why? All of his dreams were about to come true- the ones that had consumed him ever since the first day of ninth grade, anyway- but under all the completely wrong circumstances. It should not have been happening here, in front of a circle comprised of eight other teenagers, all with invasive eyes. And, most importantly, it should have been consensual.

He was roped into the game to begin with. The idea of being able to make out with a bunch of the girls at the party without consequences may have been enticing to the other boys, but Chris was not really interested. Sure, he liked making out with girls every now and then, but he liked it better when it meant something. Not that any kiss he'd ever had actually meant something.

But it was a party, what else was he supposed to do? Chris never handled alcohol well, but he would do almost anything else to feel like he was fitting in. Even if it almost made him miserable. So, when another boy at the party came up to him with an empty beer bottle in his hand and told Chris to come join them, how could he refuse?

The rules were simple: spin the bottle, of course, and kiss whoever it landed on. No matter who they were, boy or girl. No less than ten seconds (“With tongue!” “No, I thought we'd do it with our feet.”). Chris sat down, hoping that it would never stop on him, though he knew that with his luck, it might hardly land on anyone other than him.

Yet, it was at least ten minutes before it even came close to where he sat. It went from boy to girl to boy to girl to boy to girl to boy to girl to girl to boy to girl to boy to girl to boy. There was a discrepancy at one point, as the bottle landed in between two people; one long-haired blond girl by the name of Jeanette and a scruffy looking boy called Justin. It was decided that the boy who had spun the bottle would kiss both of them, then spin again. Another girl, a red-head aptly and boringly named Ginger.

And then it finally landed on Chris. The following seconds were, up to that point, probably the worst ten of his life, and certainly the slowest moving. Ginger was not exactly what Chris would call a good kisser, and she had some perfume on that made her smell like a dead animal. After it was over and Chris sat back in his spot, he still felt like he could smell it. He was afraid it would stick with him forever.

He sighed and grabbed the bottle. It seemed to spin just as slowly as time had passed during his experience with Ginger. He desperately wished the night would end already. When it finally stopped, he lifted his eyes to see who it had landed on. From the shoes alone, it appeared to be another boy. Chris quietly groaned.

But he was really regretting playing the game when he looked up to see a pair of green eyes staring back at him. His breath left him, at least for as long as his brain permitted before it automatically regulated the inflation and deflation of his lungs. He blinked a few times, perhaps to make sure he was seeing correctly.

The boy with the green eyes. The boy who always wore jackets that looked like they were five sizes too large. The boy with the softest, sweetest voice. The boy with the brightest smile in the world. Jonny. The boy who Chris was completely infatuated with. Somehow Chris hadn't noticed he was even there until this moment.

And now they had to kiss. They had to. There was no way out of it, not without being called a coward and being shunned by the rest of the group. Chris couldn't handle that. So, he crawled his way across the circle until he reached the middle. Jonny was less than a foot away from him. He could feel his cheeks flush.

Jonny started to lean in, and Chris started to panic. But he forced himself to lean in as well, because he couldn't show signs of just how nervous he was and just how much this moment meant to him. If anyone found out, he would surely be teased nonstop. He was certain of it.

The moment their lips touched made Chris want to cry. It felt absolutely wonderful, but this was not how it was supposed to happen. He was supposed to magically become friends with Jonny one day, then slowly break his way into Jonny's mind and steal his heart. Then Jonny would confess his feelings, and he would give Chris all the confidence he needed, and Chris would no longer feel the need to try to fit in. He and Jonny would be happy together just the way they were.

But no. His first kiss with Jonny, the thing he had longed for most for years, was the result of what could basically be considered nothing more than a dare. It did help that Jonny didn't seem absolutely revolted by the thought of kissing Chris, but only a small amount.

Chris tried his hardest to act like this wasn't nearly what he wanted, but it was difficult. No matter what he told himself, he found it impossible to not portray his feelings in the way he kissed Jonny. Then, when the ten seconds were sadly gone, Chris pulled back and the look in Jonny's eyes told him that he knew. Of course he knew. As Chris went back to his seat, he hoped that no one else could tell.

Chris kept his eyes on Jonny, unblinkingly, as the other boy took his turn. The feeling still lingered on his tongue, and his chest was still tight. He felt the stab of jealousy as Jonny went and kissed some girl, then he realized that it had brought with it a bought of nausea. It ate away at his stomach for a while, until he had to excuse himself without actually excusing himself, bouncing up on his feet and running into the nearby bathroom.

“What's wrong with him?” someone asked.

“Must have drank too much,” another answered. “Can't handle his booze.”

“He didn't drink anything,” a girl said. “Maybe someone should check on him...”

Seeing no other immediate interest, the girl volunteered herself. She quickly joined Chris in the restroom, where she found him hunched over the toilet bowl.

“Are you all right?” she asked him. Chris looked at her wearily. Without saying anything, he turned back after a few short seconds. “You didn't drink, did you?”

Chris shook his head. He was starting to feel just a little better, most likely due to the fact that his stomach no longer had any content. The girl put her hand on his shoulder, but only moments later withdrew it.

“There's some mouthwash on the sink over there,” she said, blindly pointing behind her. “I would use it if I were you... if you're coming back to the game, you know.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks,” Chris quietly said to her. A moment later she had left the room. He took his time composing himself, trudged over to the sink and grabbed the bottle of green liquid the girl had been referring to. He felt weird using other people's things like that, but he did it anyway. It wasn't that big of a deal.

Chris tried to reenter the room as calmly and inconspicuously as possible. He thought he might have accidentally caught Jonny's gaze, but he turned his head away too quickly to be certain. He was just about to sit down when one of the other boys spoke.

“What time is it?”

“It's only, like, ten or something. Why, you got a curfew?”

“No... maybe. And anyway, this game is getting old. We've gone around the circle way too many times.”

“Yeah, he's right,” a girl chimed in, the same girl who had checked up on Chris. “And, well, we don't want anyone else to get sick. It could be a virus or something.”

Chris's cheeks burned and his eyes widened a little. Mostly everyone looked at him, and though they all tried to do so as discreetly as possible, it was completely obvious. Now he figured that everyone thought he was diseased or something, and maybe they would try to stay away from him and would consider him as some sort of freak. He ducked his head in embarrassment.

“Well, I don't care what the rest of you do, I'm leaving,” a strong voice said. It was Jonny. Chris lifted his eyes just a little.

Jonny stood up and glanced around the circle. He really did not care if the rest of the partygoers stayed, but before he could move from his spot, several other people stood as well. Chris picked up his head. There were enough people standing now that he felt it was almost required of him to follow.

Therefore, as the crowd of people began to exit the room, Chris jumped up and hesitantly walked out. Once he was outside, he headed towards the road. He didn't even think about how he was going to get home. He figured he would just walk.

But halfway to his destination, he realized that someone was walking next to him. He looked cautiously to see that it was Jonny, whose eyes appeared to be glued on Chris's frame. Chris began to slow down, until finally he came to a complete stop. Jonny stood in front of him and stared for a while.

“Hi, Chris,” Jonny finally spoke.

“Hi,” Chris lamely repeated. Jonny sighed deeply and bit his lip.

“That kiss before... you felt it, too, didn't you?” Chris looked at him with large eyes and gradually nodded. Jonny's eyes bore holes through Chris for a few seconds, then he blinked rapidly in a dazed sort of way. “I... I'm not sure... What I mean is-”

“It was awful,” Chris interjected quickly, “you hated it. OK. It never has to happen again.”

“Well, no, it wasn't awful.” Jonny twiddled his thumbs, looking rather put out. “Did you think it was awful?”

Jonny kept his head down and his gaze averted. Chris silently watched him. Jonny had expected at least some sort of answer- a grunt, maybe, or a full-fledged confession. Anything but silence. He looked back up to see the distress stretched across Chris's expression. Chris said the only thing he could think of.

“This isn't how any of this was supposed to happen.”

Nervously, Jonny rubbed the back of his neck, thinking. He faltered, stumbling to start his sentence approximately twenty times before he finally found the correct wording. “Well, nothing like this has ever even happened to me before. Although, I still don't know exactly what it means. I'd never kissed another boy...”

“But... we both felt... something?” Chris hopefully held his breath as Jonny gave a quick shrug.

“It was more than I felt kissing any of those other people,” Jonny replied. “I don't know, maybe it doesn't mean anything at all. Maybe I should just go home now. I'm sorry for wasting your time.”

Jonny ducked his head and started to walk away. Chris intended on shouting at him to stop, telling Jonny how much he liked him, but all that came out of his mouth was a desperate-sounding, “No.”

“No?” Jonny repeated as he shot a quizzical look at Chris. Chris took a few steps so that he and Jonny were next to each other again.

“You didn't waste my time,” he tentatively began to explain, “and... it could mean something. It could mean a lot, really.”

“Well, OK. Suppose it does mean something.” Jonny scuffed the bottom of his shoe on the ground and continued in a mumbling voice. “What would we do about it?”

“Maybe the first thing might be to... you know, to make sure that it means something,” Chris suggested, attempting to subtly lean closer to Jonny. “We could... reenact...”

“Then what? Because I know that there was something there, but I'm not so comfortable with... being with a guy.”

“Oh. I see.” Chris hid his sadness as well as he could, but inside he could feel his heart breaking just a bit. However, Jonny was privy to Chris's despondency, and he let out a frustrated groan, burying his head in his hands.

“I'm sorry,” he told Chris after he let his arms drop to his sides. “I knew I shouldn't have said anything. Now I just feel like a jackass. Do you like me?”

With great reluctance, Chris replied, “Yeah.” Jonny shot him a look of utter sympathy. Chris was wishing once again that he had just stayed home that evening.

“Then maybe we should hang out sometime. You seem like a nice guy.” Jonny held out his hand momentarily as some sort of gesture. “And who knows? My thoughts on this could change... I could become comfortable with it.”

For a while Chris did not respond. He imagined what it would be like to just be friends with Jonny, but to have that possibility lingering of their relationship becoming something more. It was a lot nicer than the way it had been.

“OK,” he finally agreed. But he wasn't entirely finished. “One quick question, though-do you like me?”

Jonny chuckled. Chris wasn't sure how to take this at first, though hearing Jonny laugh made him a bit happy. “I guess so. You're at least one hell of a good kisser.” Chris couldn't help smiling, and blushing a dash as he did so. “Hey, do you need a ride home? Because I could give you a lift.”

Chris brightened, having completely forgotten that he had planned on merely walking home. He liked this new idea much better. “Uh, yeah, that would be great, actually.”

“All right. And maybe on the way we can start off this whole being friends thing,” Jonny said, and it seemed to be a cue for the two boys to walk off towards the road. “I don't think I know very much about you.”

“I don't think there's very much about me to know.”

Jonny shiftily glared at Chris out of the corner of his eye. “I'm sure there's a lot more to know than you let other people know.”

“OK, that's probably true,” Chris agreed, laughing a little. Jonny laughed with him, and as Chris discreetly admired his newfound friend, he thought that maybe the party hadn't been so dreadful after all.

Lost or Incomplete

“Guy... Guy...”

Chris waved his hand in front of Guy's face. His eyes were glazed and unfocused. A few moments later he seemed to have snapped out of his trance-like state. He looked at Chris with a bit of confusion. Chris stood up, his hands on his hips.

“Guy, it's closing time. You can go home now.”

“Oh...” Guy stood up as well. He looked around a bit and rubbed the back of his neck. “I-I didn't realize...”

“It's fine,” Chris told him, holding up his hand. “Just, next time, make sure you don't space out like that. Because I'm not always gonna realize you're still here, and one day you're gonna end up stuck in here overnight.”

“Yes, sir.” Guy kept his eyes down. Chris always intimidated him. “I-I'll see you tomorrow...”

“Oh, right. I'm opening late tomorrow. Liz is having guests over in the evening and she needs me to fix... well, something or other. You know.” Chris threw his hand carelessly in the air to show his apathy. He began to walk toward a toolbox opened and resting on a work bench. As his back was turned to Guy, he raised his voice. “So, come in around ten or so. And I thought I told you to cut it out with that 'sir' nonsense. I haven't been knighted, you know.”

He slowly put a few discarded tools inside the box. Guy cautiously walked up beside him. “Sorry, boss,” Guy said. Chris looked at him, examined him for a while with a blank expression.

“Goodnight, Guy,” he conclusively said. Guy drew a nervous breath before finally following Chris's instruction. He walked out of the garage, into the cold and dark night. He could see his breath a little every time he exhaled. The walk to his car felt as long as the Great Wall.

Guy sat inside, his hands gripping the steering wheel. He had spaced out again, as he often did. But it wasn't as though he was thinking of anything in particular. He was just staring out of the windshield for a while.

Then slowly his eyes trailed down. He started the car and gripped the steering wheel tighter. He didn't really want to go home; something he would never have told anyone was that he would love to be stuck there as Chris had warned him about. He thought it would have been nice.

But the rational portion of his brain took over and he began to drive away from the auto shop. He had on several occasions thought about what would happen if he spaced while driving home. It wasn't such an uncommon thing for a person to go about a routine without thinking about it, but with driving there was always the possibility that he could end up in an accident.

If he was laying damaged in a hospital bed, would anyone visit him?

Guy never surrounded himself with people. His only friend- the only person he considered to be his friend, anyway- was his roommate, Will. He didn't like people very much. But he wanted to.

“You left the, uh, toaster plugged in this morning,” Will said from the comfort of the living room sofa. Guy blinked at him a few times.

“Oh.” Guy didn't even remember making toast at any point that day. “I must have... forgotten...”

“Well, I unplugged it. So.”

Guy nodded shortly. He walked into the kitchen to grab something to drink. He took a swig from the carton of orange juice on the first shelf. Will wouldn't mind. He closed the fridge and stared at the counter where the toaster was.

There was nothing good on TV. There never was. Guy watched from the kitchen as Will flicked through the channels without stopping even once. When all the channels had been gone through, he started over. Guy walked to his room.

Some insomniac people count sheep to lull them into unconsciousness. Guy counted ceiling tiles. He never got past five before his mind drifted and he began wondering if anyone really did count sheep.

He could hear Will in the other room. It sounded as though he was speaking to someone on the phone. His girlfriend, perhaps. He couldn't make out what Will was saying.

Guy thought about what work he had for the next day. Then he remembered that he didn't know. Any cars he had been working on had been finished up that day, so only time would tell what was next.

He wondered if he could sleep with his eyes open. He wondered if he did. It seemed to be a highly conceivable concept.

Will's voice was growing louder. He was approaching Guy's door. He knocked firmly three times.

“Come in,” Guy yelled. Will held the phone against his shoulder and popped his head in through the doorway.

“I'm going out for a bit,” he said. Guy looked at the alarm clock set by his bed. It was already eleven o'clock.

“All right.”

“Don't forget to gas up the car tomorrow. I think it's almost out.” Will turned and closed the door behind him. He talked on the phone again, his voice slowly disappearing into the distance. Guy started counting ceiling tiles again.

Why sheep? What happened when the sheep ran out and the people were still awake? But eventually ceiling tiles would run out, too. Did people start over when they finished?

The clock said it was one in the morning. Guy couldn't tell if he had been asleep. It certainly didn't feel like it. Guy stood up and paced the floor. He stared down at his feet. He thought about counting his toes, but he already knew how many there were. It felt pointless. He didn't think he could sleep while walking, either.

A door clicked. Guy continued pacing. He heard Will stumble down the hallway into his room. He wasn't drunk, just tired. Will had the tendency to act like a zombie if he was even the least bit exhausted. He probably didn't need to count anything to fall asleep.

The auto shop was right next to Chris's house. He owned both of them, so it made sense. It seemed like Guy always pulled up as soon as Chris stepped outside. Even when the shop opened later in the morning.

Guy got out of his car. He looked over at where Chris was standing, talking to his wife. He started to walk towards the shop.

“Well, if it isn't my spacey worker,” Chris said as he walked through the small parking lot to the side of the building. Guy looked up at him. “Sleep well, Guy?”

“Yeah.” Guy had gotten a full five hours of sleep. That was more than most nights, even some nights combined.

“Good. And it's Friday, right? Even better.” Chris gave a little wink. “Friday's definitely my favorite day of the week.”

Together, he and Chris walked into the shop. They were the first ones there. Within the next five minutes, two of the other men showed up.

Guy was working on a car. It was his job. He didn't particularly enjoy getting dirty and greasy every day, but it paid well enough. And mechanics was the one thing he really understood. Some people were into music or film or literature. They used those things to help them cope. No one can deal with the world alone. The world is far too big a place.

Music and film and literature only ever made things worse for Guy. They confused him even more, made him comprehend even less. He couldn't connect with them. He couldn't interpret his own meanings.

Mechanics was a very straightforward subject. It was relatively simple. There was usually only one way to fix a problem. Everything was there. There weren't any hidden meanings in the cars and their designs. It all made perfect sense to Guy.

And even when a certain car was more challenging to fix, such as the one he was currently working on, it was still easier than anything else Guy had ever done. Sometimes he didn't even have to think while he was working.

Guy decided that the wrench he was using wasn't going to cut it anymore. He needed a different tool. He slid out from underneath the car and grabbed his toolbox. He walked over to the nearest work bench.

He laid the tools out on the table. He knew which one he wanted, he just didn't know where it was. In fact, it seemed to be missing. There was a chance that someone else had borrowed it and had yet to put it back.

He looked around the shop. One of his coworkers, Paul, was doing something with the engine of another car. Maybe he had taken it. Guy went back to his tools. He kept looking even if it was probably gone.

It was getting late. The shop wouldn't be open for much longer, an hour or two at most. By the time he found the tool he needed, he might not have been able to use it anyway. He thought about asking Paul if he knew where it was. Suddenly as his eyes ran over the tools before him, Guy could hear low voices conversing nearby. He tuned his ears and listened carefully. One of the voices belonged to Chris.

“It's all finished now,” Chris was saying. “Well, it's been finished for a few hours, but, you know...”

“I hope you didn't screw anything up,” another male voice playfully replied. “Otherwise, I'll make sure you don't receive proper payment.”

“Oh, that's not very nice.” Guy lifted his eyes. He could see Chris and this other man standing behind one of the giant toolboxes. There was almost no space in between their bodies. “And anyway, I made sure that it's perfect. Triple-checked, even.”

The other man smiled. “Then I guess you'll be fully rewarded, huh?”

“Ooh, I can hardly wait,” Chris breathed. He moved impossibly closer to the other man. “What do you say we go for a drive? Where are your keys?”

“They're in my pocket.” Chris's hand slid into the front pocket of the man's jeans. He drew in a sharp breath. “Other pocket,” he said.

“Oops,” Chris said with a laugh. He didn't remove his hand, but a few moments later the keys appeared in his other hand. The other man closed in eyes and took another deep breath. Chris leaned forward, and Guy saw his tongue flash, dancing across the top row of the man's teeth. “Come on, let's go,” he said.

He withdrew his hand and gave the man his keys back. Then he walked around, and both he and the man came out from behind the toolbox. Guy couldn't see them anymore.

“Hey, Paul,” Chris yelled across the shop, “if Liz comes 'round, tell her I went out for a bit.”

“Sure thing, boss,” Paul yelled back. Guy looked down at his tools. His cheeks felt hot. He had stumbled upon something he neither should or wanted to see. He felt weighed down by the new knowledge. The only solution seemed to be going back to work. He wasn't sure he could get the image out of his head.

The tool he had been looking for was on the floor, resting by his feet. He picked it up and stared into space. The other man looked familiar. He had been around before.

Then Guy remembered. He was surprised he had even forgotten. For the past few months, the man was in the shop every week. It was definitely suspicious now that he thought about it. He hadn't thought about it before. But that man was there every week, and Chris was the only one who ever worked on his car.

His name was Jonny. Guy distinctly recalled one day looking at the list of cars that needed to be worked on. Chris had snapped a little and demanded that no one take that car. He wasn't aggressive about it. But he was definitely possessive. The reason was apparent now.

“Guy.”

Guy rolled his eyes over to see Will standing beside him. Will was always a rather intimidating person. Standing and towering over other people didn't help.

“Did you hear me?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Guy said. He was lying. It wasn't as though he would have remembered what Will told him anyway.

Will shot him a knowing glance, a hand resting on his hip. He sighed. “All right. I'll see you in a few hours, then.”

“Yeah.” Guy went back to staring at the wall. He heard Will walk away. The door opened, then almost immediately closed. Guy went back to his thoughts.

Hands. A man's hands. And another man's body. Guy didn't know why he was still thinking about it now, two days later. It was obvious what was going on between them. Chris was married. But it wasn't any of Guy's business. Even if Chris was having an affair, it shouldn't have mattered. It was Chris's life, not Guy's. Guy couldn't help feeling let down, though. Chris had always seemed like a good person. He was certainly a nice boss. Guy didn't know what to think anymore.

All day long he watched Chris go about his work. He imagined things that he never wanted to imagine. But the images just wouldn't go away. To make it worse, he and Chris were the only ones in the shop that day. The other man scheduled to work had called in sick. It wasn't such a big deal. It was a rather slow day anyway.

Guy did try to work every now and then. Luckily for him, the car he was fixing didn't require hard work so much as tedious work. Chris didn't seem to mind that it took Guy all day to do one simple job. He was in a rather good mood.

“Did you have a good weekend, Guy?” Chris asked out of nowhere. The sun was steadily going down, but the day was still far from over. But this sounded more like a chat to have in the morning, not towards the end of the day. It was just a little weird to Guy.

“It was good,” Guy meekly replied. Chris stared at him. He was wiping his hands off on a dark blue rag. He nodded slowly.

“Mine was good, too,” he said. Guy looked up at him. Chris laughed shortly. “I'm already looking forward to the next one. I guess that's just life. Live for the days you don't have to do anything at all.”

Guy thought for a few moments. “Sounds about right.” Chris threw his rag on top of his discarded tools. He examined his hands to make sure they were at least halfway clean. Guy stood still.

“I have to run to the store real quick,” Chris said. He eyes were still on his hands. “Do you think you can handle watching the shop while I'm gone?”

“Yes, sir.” Chris raised an eyebrow. Guy sighed. “Yes, it'll be fine... Chris.” It almost made him uncomfortable to say the name, not only because of what he had witnessed. He wasn't too keen on being so formal with people. But it seemed to please Chris. He didn't want to upset his boss.

“I thought so.” Chris turned around. As he walked out of the shop, he yelled over his shoulder, “I'll try to be back as soon as I can.” Then there were no more signs of his presence.

Guy worked in the silence. He was nearly finished. Another hour of work and he should be done. He still had trouble focusing. He always had trouble focusing, though. His mind became more blank as it had been before. And then she came along.

“Excuse me,” a soft voice called into the shop. Guy almost didn't hear it at first. But he did, and it sounded like nothing he had ever heard. He looked up to where the door was.

A woman was standing in the doorway. She had dark curly hair down past her shoulders. Her eyes were big, brown to match her hair. She wasn't exactly skinny. She seemed to be rather curvy. Guy knew who she was. He had never seen her this close before. He thought she looked beautiful.

“Yes?” he croaked. He cringed a little; it hadn't sounded as polite as he would have liked. Liz took a cautious step forward and looked around.

“Is Chris around here somewhere?” she asked. Guy stared at her for a few seconds. She continued to search for her husband.

“He went to the store,” Guy answered. Liz turned to him. “But he should be back soon.”

“Oh.” The disappointment in her voice was heartbreaking. It brought back all the pictures Guy thought had faded away. He actually felt a little angry. Liz fiddled with her hands. “Well, when he gets back, do you think you could let him know that dinner is ready?”

“Of course.” Liz smiled kindly at him.

“Thank you,” she softly said. She turned to leave. Guy didn't want that. He acted without thinking.

“I'm Guy,” he nearly shouted. Then as she looked back to him, he quietly added, “by the way.”

“Thank you, Guy,” she said, flashing another smile. It was radiant. He nodded and went back to work. Liz left the shop.

Guy fulfilled his promise upon Chris's return. Chris thanked him as well. Guy watched as Chris walked out again. He felt a little sick. There Chris was, walking home to his beautiful wife, and yet it didn't seem to be enough for him. All Guy had to look forward to was Will's incessant nagging. Not that Will didn't have a reason. It just became old after a while.

But Guy told himself again that it wasn't his business. He tried to go back to his work. If he and Chris had actually been friends, then maybe it would have been a different story. Chris might have thought he and Guy were friends. Guy didn't think of him as anything more than an employer.

He looked back at the doorway where Liz had been not long ago. Pushing his thoughts away hadn't worked in the slightest. He wondered what the hell was wrong with Chris.

The door opened. The sound didn't hinder Guy in the least. As it was every Friday, Paul was in the shop as well. It was safe to assume that Paul was the one using the door. Or maybe Chris was back from his escapades. Either way, Guy didn't find it important.

Until, of course, the only slightly familiar feminine voice spoke to him. “Hello.” She sounded timid. Guy jumped, as he hadn't been expecting her. He let his tool-carrying hand fall to his side as he turned to her. His blood started to tingle as his heart rapidly pumped it through his body. “Oh, I'm sorry to bother you,” she quickly said, placing a hand over her chest.

“Chris isn't here right now,” he told her. She nodded slowly.

“I know.” She began to walk around the side of the car, closer to Guy. She stopped a few feet away from him. Her hand ran along the hood of the car. “I was just a bit lonely in the house. I was... was going to ask if you wouldn't mind... if I just sit here and watch you for a while. I won't say anything or be an annoyance, I promise. I was just lonely.”

“That's fine,” Guy quietly said, almost just breathing out the words. Liz turned her deep brown eyes and locked them with his. “I can't... This stuff isn't very entertaining. You might get bored.”

“The way I see it,” Liz began, her voice loud, the shyness completely gone as she walked over to the nearest chair and plopped herself down, “bored is better than lonely. Right?”

Guy stared at her. He didn't tell her that to him, they were the same thing. He didn't say that all he had ever wanted was someone to love. He didn't describe his sleepless nights spent dreaming of an occupied bed and a full heart. He just nodded and went back to work.

But he was very aware of her eyes on him thereafter. He could see her face though his gaze was on the engine before him. He could see in his mind the smile that might have lingered on her lips. Why did she smile? With everything the way it was, how could she be happy?

Guy reasoned that it must be because she didn't know. Ignorance is bliss. If she knew, then there was no way for her to be happy. It didn't seem possible. Then he wondered why she would smile now, at a time like this. And why had she chosen to come watch him work? Was she never lonely any other day? She hadn't come to see Chris.

He was so engrossed in these ceaseless questions that he nearly forgot what he was doing. He shook his head and tried to focus. Despite knowing it wouldn't work, he tried to forget that Liz was there. Or he tried to think that she had left while he wasn't looking. It only made him more mindful of her presence.

The door opened again. Liz was still behind him, though she was no longer sitting. Guy stood up straight and watched as his boss greeted his wife.

“Hey, honey,” Chris said, taking Liz into his arms and kissing her forehead. Guy felt sick. “What are you doing out here?”

“I just wanted to get out of the house for a bit,” she replied. “I did so much cleaning yesterday that I had nothing to do today. Not one single thing. So I came out here for some company.” She turned and gestured to Guy. “I've just been watching Guy fix that car. He seems to be a pretty good mechanic.”

“One of the best,” Chris added, looking straight at Guy. There was something in his eyes that was different. It was almost like he knew what Guy was thinking. He knew that Guy was aware of more about his life than he should have been. Guy thought he might have been staring back at Chris in such a manner that he gave himself away. Guy averted his eyes.

“Oh, well, I don't really know much about cars, but, you know, he's...” Liz leaned forward a little, lowering her voice, “he's a lot better than those other guys you hired. Sometimes I think they don't know much about cars either. Or maybe that I actually know more than they do.”

“You wanna work here, then?” Chris asked with a bit of a laugh. Liz giggled and stood up on her toes so she could reach Chris's lips.

“No, I think I'll leave it to you.” She patted his chest twice and she started to head off in the direction of the door. Guy felt sad to see her leave. Chris walked over to where Guy stood.

“Maybe I should promote you,” he said. “If I had anything to promote you to, that is. Sous-mechanic? Does that even exist?”

“It could exist if you wanted it to,” Guy replied. “You are the boss.” Chris laughed and nodded.

“It doesn't roll off the tongue, though. I think it should be something that rolls off the tongue...” Chris was silent for a few moments, then he shrugged. “Well, I'll think of something. Oh, wait, this means I have to pay you more, doesn't it?”

“You don't have to pay me more,” Guy told him. He already had more money than he felt he needed.

“All right then,” Chris said with a smile. He started to step away. “You get back to being the best now, I'll just be over here thinking of a title for you.”

“I thought you said I was only one of the best, sir,” Guy stated.

“So I did. But I also told you not to call me sir.” Chris shook his head. “There's always that one thing that ruins perfection, huh?” He laughed shortly, and suddenly Guy felt uncomfortable. He had taken Chris's words into a different context, and he didn't find it very suitable.

Guy did as he was told with no fuss. He went back to working on the car, which was nearly finished anyway. Except this time he was trying to pretend that Liz was still watching him.

He dreamed about her. He didn't mean to. He was surprised he even dreamed at all. He was surprised he even slept at all.

There was a room, empty save for Guy and Liz. She stood against one wall, he against the one opposite. The room was not large by any means. She was so close, and yet so unattainable. She just stared at him, smiling. He reached out to touch her.

The room grew. The ceiling remained at the same height, but the room stretched lengthwise, increasing the distance between Guy and Liz. His hand did not reach.

Liz continued to smile at him. He took a step forward. Nothing happened. Often people might have dreams where the further they walk, the farther away their desired object becomes. This wasn't like that. It was more like he was walking on a treadmill. Not one thing changed, no matter how many steps he took.

Then a figure appeared out of the shadows. Liz turned away from Guy. Her smile was directed at Chris now. He took her in his unfaithful arms, laying his hand on her cheek as if she was the only one for him. Guy stopped moving, and consequently the treadmill he was on brought him backwards until the image of Chris and Liz was just a blurry spot in the distance.

Eventually they faded completely. Guy realized then that he was awake, staring up at the ceiling that was blackened by the night. He stared until the ceiling turned white with day, and it was time for him to get ready for work.

Liz came out to the garage several more times in the following two weeks. Some of the times, Chris was there and she would stay by him. The rest, she talked to Guy. To, not with. Guy didn't have much to say in return. But he didn't mind listening to her speak. It made his already facile job even easier to hear her soothing voice being directed at him.

At first she hadn't wanted to be a bother, but Guy didn't seem to mind her presence. She spoke tentatively. Then for some reason, Guy asked her a question. He asked her why she didn't go out anywhere when she felt lonely, rather than coming to the shop. It wasn't meant to be rude, and it wasn't taken as such either. She smiled and explained to him that she just didn't feel comfortable around people most of the time. She would go grocery shopping when needed, but other than that she stayed at home.

It was a Friday again, and again Chris was out for an ambiguous test drive with the man called Jonny. Guy saw Liz's shoes appear out of the corner of his eye. He smiled to himself and stood up.

“Hey, Guy,” she said. He was a little surprised that she was waiting at the door still. She fiddled with her hands a bit, ducking her head. “You... you're pretty good with tools, right?”

“Yeah,” Guy said with a tiny shrug.

“Do you think you could help me with something? Inside the house?” she asked. She looked up at Guy. Her eyes seemed a bit frightened. “I wouldn't ask, only I think it's a bit of an emergency...”

“Yeah, sure,” he said. She nervously smiled and led Guy back to the house. They walked into the kitchen. Almost immediately, Liz's problem was apparent.

“I think I broke the sink,” Liz said, then she put her hands together and held them up to her mouth waiting for Guy's reaction. The faucet, while apparently not actually on, was spouting water out of its base. Guy walked over to get a closer look. “I know you're not a plumber or anything, but I figured that maybe you might just be able to work your magic with a wrench or something and at least make it stop for now.”

Guy said nothing. He examined the faucet. When he was done examining, he told Liz that he would be right back with what he needed. Liz nodded and told him she'd be waiting. Guy ran back to the garage as quickly as he could. He grabbed his tools and went back to Liz.

Liz had a plate of some sort in her hands that she was transporting to the kitchen table as Guy walked in. Neither acknowledged the other's existence. Liz set the plate down on the table. Guy fixed the faucet.

“Well, it seems to have stopped,” Guy said, standing back to admire his handiwork.

“Oh, thank you so much,” Liz said with a breath of relief. She put her hand on Guy's arm. He tightened his jaw a little.

“I would recommend getting someone to look at it, though. Or buy a new faucet.”

“Yes, I was planning on doing that tomorrow or something. Although, tomorrow is Saturday...” Liz paused for a while. Then she shook her head. “Anyway, thank you so, so much. I was honestly quite afraid that it wouldn't stop and it would flood the house eventually and... well, thank you for fixing it. At least for the moment.”

“Of course.” Guy took his chances. He turned to see Liz, whose hand was still on his arm, whose flesh was still touching his own. She was already looking at him.

“Would you like something to eat? Or to drink, maybe?” she asked. “I made some muffins earlier. Chris and I aren't going to eat them all by ourselves. You're welcome to stay for a while and have a chat, if you like. I can make some tea.”

“Tea... would be nice,” Guy managed to say. Liz smiled, then removed her hand. She pulled out a chair from the table.

“Here, take a seat. I'll make the tea,” she said. He sat down as Liz walked to the counter. “And please, help yourself to those muffins. I promise they don't taste horrendous.”

“I'm not really big on muffins, but thank you,” he replied. Liz sat down at the other side of the table. For a while they just stared at each other. Then Liz said something Guy would never have expected her to say.

“Chris is having an affair.”

Guy didn't know what to say. So he said nothing. It quite often worked for him. He wasn't sure that Liz wanted him to say anything, anyway. She didn't look at him. Her gaze was on the table now.

“He thinks I don't know,” she said. “But I'm not an idiot. It's fairly obvious. Every single Friday... at the same time, for the same amount of time, with the same person...”

She rubbed a hand over the back of her neck. Had her distress not already been apparent, it was made more so by the audible breath she exhaled. Guy wanted to say something now, but he still didn't know what. He let Liz continue of her own accord.

“It's been going on for two, maybe three months. I swear, he's done everything he can to that car. But every week, that man's back in there again. It's never completely fixed.” Her hand fell and landed on the table. She curled her fingers into her palm, just enough so that she could feel her fingernails dig into the skin. Just enough to hold in her emotions for now.

He's a loser. He's a complete loser. Anyone would be lucky to have you. You should leave him. You deserve so much better. He should feel like absolute shit for doing this to you. How could anyone do anything like that to such a beautiful woman? You deserve to be happy. He deserves to be hit by a truck.

These were a few of the vast amount of phrases that popped into Guy's head. But he still couldn't make a choice. He didn't know what would be right to say, what would be appropriate to tell her. She kept her eyes on her hand.

“There's a, uh... a motel not too far from here,” she continued. Guy winced. He wished he didn't have to hear it. He wished she didn't have to say it. But maybe she needed to say it, and he wanted to be there to listen, to give her someone to say it to. To be of some help. “I pass it on the way to the grocery store. So, I know exactly how long it takes to get there. And... I know exactly how long it takes Chris to get there.”

Guy would have cracked a smile had it not been such a serious moment. If anything, it made him frown deeper. He felt the anger start to rise in his body. It was like his insides had started to shake, and soon he would show outward signs. He tried to control it, just as Liz was trying not to break down.

“You know, when Chris first started up the business, there wasn't much help. I did the bookkeeping for a while. A few years, actually. I know how much everything costs. I know how much money he should be bringing in for that work. And I know how much he's not bringing in now.”

“It's a big difference, huh?” Guy had hardly realized that the words came from his own mouth. He didn't understand why his brain had chosen those words to speak. Liz didn't answer him, not directly at least. There was a silence that lasted a few minutes. Guy hoped that he hadn't upset her further. That was the last thing he wanted to do.

“But as far as payment goes... well, that's it, isn't it?” She laughed, shortly, pained. The corners of her mouth began to twitch. “Chris services his car... and he services Chris.”

“I'm so sorry,” Guy whispered. She finally looked up at him. The deep brown of her eyes was clouded by tears.

“Did you know?” she asked, her voice broken. Guy froze. His heart beat faster as he decided whether or not to tell her the truth. “I won't be mad or anything. I would never expect anyone to tell me. Did you know?”

Guy stared for another few seconds. He nodded. Oddly, Liz smiled at his response. It was a sad sort of smile, but a smile nonetheless. Her tears stayed in their bubble.

“We married young,” she said after a long silence. “I guess most couples who marry young don't last very long. They think it will all be so easy, then they're completely surprised to find that they have to actually work at a relationship to make it last. But, fifteen years... I thought we'd made it. I thought it had worked out for us.”

A single tear rolled down her cheek. Guy couldn't just sit there anymore. Seeing Liz hurting like this was more than he could take. He knew it was a bad idea. He knew that he might regret it in the possibly near future. But he couldn't stop himself.

Guy walked around the table and took the seat right next to Liz. She turned to face him as he sat down. It was like she knew what he intended to do. She leaned towards him, leaned into him as he wrapped his arms around her. She cried for a while, her head buried in his chest. He rubbed his hand across her back, rested his chin on top of her head.

It felt so right. It felt right, except for Liz's crying. If everything had been the way Guy perceived it should have been, she wouldn't have been crying. At least not out of sadness. Maybe they would be tears of joy. Tears of joy, because their life had turned out so perfectly. She and Guy were so happy together.

“M-maybe you should go back now,” Liz quietly said as she lifted her head ever so slightly. “Chris should be back soon. I don't think he'd be happy to see you're not there.”

Guy had forgotten that he was supposed to be working. It didn't seem to matter to him. That feeling that maybe he could have found what he'd always been longing for had taken over him quite suddenly. He gently brushed back some of Liz's dark brown curls. “Why don't you tell him?” he replied in an equally soft voice. “Why don't you let him know how much he's hurting you?”

He half expected her to tell him that she couldn't. He would have understood, even though he thought it was only fair for her to tell Chris. Even if she didn't want to be with Guy afterward. At least she could be happier.

But when she fully lifted her head and locked her eyes with his, he saw that there was a sort of light behind them. She was actually considering it.

Chris closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He was still a bit short of air. He felt the bed move as Jonny scooted closer.

“What are you doing?” he whispered. Chris kept his eyes closed.

“Just resting.”

“Well, come on, we have to go,” Jonny urgently told him. Chris peeked through one eye, wrapped both arms around Jonny and pulled him close. He settled his head against the pillow. “Chris!”

“Five minutes,” Chris mumbled. “Just five minutes. Please?”

There was a pause, but Chris knew he had won. Jonny sighed. “OK. Five minutes.” He closed his eyes as well, against his better judgment. He did like this feeling, the feeling of being in Chris's arms, he just wanted to make sure he could continue to feel it in the future. He was probably even more anxious about getting caught than Chris was.

As Chris laid there, breathing in as much of Jonny's scent as he could every time he inhaled, he became more and more convinced that something had gone wrong in his life. At some point, he had messed up and chosen the wrong path, but maybe now he was being given a second chance. He felt at peace with everything right then.

Jonny slowly opened his eyes. Something was off. He felt disoriented, which could only have meant one thing; he had fallen asleep. And judging by his steady breathing, so had Chris. As best as he could without waking Chris, Jonny turned to find the clock. His eyes bulged in panic, and he returned his focus to Chris.

“Chris,” he quietly said, nudging Chris's arm. “Chris, wake up.”

Chris stirred a little. He leaned even closer to Jonny. “Five minutes,” he muttered, nearly unintelligibly. He was starting to slip back into unconsciousness.

“Chris, we've been here for two hours,” Jonny said, much louder this time. “Shit.”

It took a moment for the information to register, but as soon as Chris realized what Jonny had said, his reaction was very much the same. His eyes flew open, and he immediately let go of Jonny and sat up. Jonny stood up from the bed and started to dress himself. Chris did the same, but he appeared to be in less of a hurry.

“I knew that was a bad idea,” Jonny said, almost to himself, but loud enough for Chris to hear. “Your wife is gonna know-”

“So what if Liz knows?” Chris interrupted without thinking first. But he couldn't stop there. He didn't want to stop there. He slid his shirt over his head, then turned to Jonny. “What is she gonna do? And… well, I was thinking about leaving her, anyway.”

“Why?” Chris saw that Jonny looked rather frightened by Chris's statement, which made him feel confused, hurt, and even a little angry all at once.

“Why?” he quietly repeated. He walked around the bed to where Jonny stood. “This isn't just about the sex, Jon. Sometimes what I really want is to just sit here with you and talk. I want to hear your stories. I want to tell you mine. Or to lay down and enjoy each other's company.” Chris looked at the now empty bed, longing to be back under its safe blankets. Then he looked at Jonny again. “I think I'm in love with you.”

Chris could see in Jonny's eyes that he felt the same, but he didn't intend on letting Chris know that. Not right away. “I'm moving,” he bluntly told Chris.

“Uh... where are you moving to?” Chris slowly asked, blinking more rapidly than normal. He was having difficulty thinking. It felt like someone had smashed his brains with a sledgehammer. He responded, but he felt like he couldn't fully process what Jonny said.

“New York,” Jonny replied.

“New York? Why are you moving to New York?”

“I'm being transferred. The place I work at has several locations in America, and apparently they want me in New York.” Jonny watched as Chris stared at the ground. For several long moments, they were both silent. Chris felt something in his mind click, and finally he was able to think clearly. At least, it seemed clear to him.

“This is perfect,” he said, looking up at Jonny with a grin. Now it was Jonny's turn to be confused. He raised his eyebrows about as far as they would go.

“How is this perfect?”

“Because,” Chris said, speaking with his hands, and he took another step forward, “it can all work out. I'll leave Liz, I'll give her the business if she wants it, and you and I can move to New York. We can start our own life without having to worry about any of this here. We can start over. Doesn't that sound perfect to you?”

Jonny thought about it. It was certainly one way to ensure their future together. And moving to another country would be much less scary with someone he knew by his side. And he did love Chris, or he did feel as close to love as he had ever come before. He felt himself nodding, the beginnings of a smile making their way onto his face.

Chris laughed joyously, threw his arms around Jonny's shoulders, and kissed him square on the mouth. “This is gonna be amazing,” he breathed, his eyes lighting up like 150-watt light bulbs. He stared at Jonny wondrously for a few more seconds, then grabbed his hand and started for the door. “Well, come on, then, let's go!”

Jonny laughed at Chris's excitation as they walked out of the room. Fifteen minutes later, Jonny pulled into the garage's parking lot. Before Chris got out, he started to speak. “Listen, Chris, if anything happens, if you need a place to stay tonight, you've got my number. Give me a call, and I'll come pick you up.”

“Thank you,” Chris said with a smile. He would have leaned over and kissed Jonny, but out of habit he made sure not to do anything like that when he was sure that they could be seen. And even though they had stayed at the motel for an excessive two hours, he was certain that his employees would still be in the shop. Guy would be, at least.

The men in the garage stepped outside and gathered in a very small crowd as Chris slid out of Jonny's car. There was an excitement in the air, a sense that something was about to happen. As Jonny pulled away and drove down the road, the men noticed Liz standing on the front porch of the house.

It was like watching a movie. The men stood back, but they witnessed everything. Chris was headed for the garage, but he stopped once he saw that his employees were staring off to the side. Then he saw Liz as well, and his path changed towards the house. No time like the present.

“Liz,” he said as he approached the stairs. Liz walked down and stared at him, coldly.

“Let me guess, did the car break down?” she snidely asked, her arms folded across her chest. Even in the lack of light, the wet trails down her cheeks were visible. “You're going to have to fix it again, right? Because obviously there's no better mechanic around here, but not even you can get a car to work correctly.”

Guy's advice had apparently worked, though Liz hadn't even followed it exactly. But Chris could already see that she was in so much pain. It was going to be much more difficult than he thought to say what he had to.

“Liz, there's something I have to tell you-” Chris began, before he was once again cut off.

“I already know about you two, Chris. Don't you think it's pretty easy to see?” Liz inhaled shakily, trying to hold back more tears. She wasn't entirely sure that there were more tears for her to cry, though, as she now felt dry and empty. Liz stole a glance over her shoulder at the crowded men. She could just barely see Guy, standing against the wall and not appearing as entertained as the others.

“I didn't want you to get hurt,” Chris quietly said. It felt like the words were coming from someone else's mouth, originating in someone else's mind. He didn't even know what he was saying. “I never wanted you to get hurt.”

“Well, you did a fantastic job,” Liz retorted, and she began to walk down the pavement leading from their house to the dark street. After a few steps, she paused and turned around. “I feel great right now.”

“How long have you known?” Chris asked her.

“How long have you been sneaking around? Or trying to sneak around.”

Chris looked at her with sadness. He ducked his head and stared at the ground beneath his feet. “You could have said something, if you knew for so long. You could have let me know...”

“Would that have changed anything? Would that have stopped you from doing it?” Liz took a step closer to her husband. She looked at him for a long time. Despite the rough and intense emotions she had experienced, particularly in that night alone, she still loved him. Despite her anger, she still longed to be close to him. But the distance between them was growing, and she didn't know that there was any way to stop it.

“Maybe...” Chris looked up at her. He felt awful seeing his wife like this, but he couldn't bring himself to actually think that what he had done was wrong. Because it never felt wrong. “Maybe things could have ended better.”

Liz put a hand over her chest. She found herself involuntarily walking backwards, her breath speeding to near hyperventilation. “What do you mean, 'ended'?” she cried. She was certain that she understood what Chris had meant, she had just hoped with every single fiber of her being that this would not happen. She had almost expected Chris to beg for forgiveness, pleading for her to understand that he could never love anyone as he loved her. And that from then on, things would be all right.

But now her fears were actualizing. Chris took a deep breath, standing in the same spot as Liz backed away from him. “Liz, I'm-” He still felt it nearly impossible to say the words. “I'm sorry.” And while it was an apology, it was in no way what Liz had wanted.

Perhaps the reason Liz was so devastated was not that she still wanted to be with Chris, but that she was hit with the same revelation Chris had- her life had turned out all wrong. Unlike Chris, though, this was not a happy epiphany for her. Now she felt as though she had wasted a good portion of her life, a time that she would never get back.

“We should never have gotten married,” she mused, though even she was unclear if she was speaking to Chris or just thinking aloud. Chris shook his head.

“It probably wasn't the right thing to do,” he quietly agreed. She laughed with a bone-shattering shriek. The men observing were no longer amused by the spectacle. There was dead silence for a few moments. Even the nature around them seemed to quiet.

“It was a mistake,” she said with a condescending smile, “is that what you're saying? It was a mistake to marry me.”

“Well, you don't have to say it like that-”

“It was a mistake for me to marry you,” she told him, no trace of her feigned happiness on her face. Her voice was colder and darker than the night air. “It's a good thing we never had children. But how could I have known? How could I have known back then? When you're young like that, and this wonderful boy tells you he loves you, you're not going to suspect that's he's a homosexual.”

Chris's eyes widened, and his face gave the impression that he was completely taken aback. “You think that-”

“Please, Chris!!” she shouted, her voice beginning to crack. “For fifteen years, I've watched hundreds of girls flirt with you, and you never even bat an eye. I was foolish enough to think that it was because you actually loved me.”

For what seemed like hours, Chris was speechless. This was much more complicated than he had expected it to be. But now he felt the time was finally right to say it. It was basically implied, anyway. “Liz,” he slowly and conclusively began, “I'm leaving... I'm leaving you.”

He thought she would scream. He thought she would fall down to her knees and burst out in tears. He thought she would tell him to go, to find somewhere else to stay for the night. All she did was turn and slowly start to walk away. Very slowly. Her steps were less than an inch apart.

“Where are you going?” he called after her. He knew that if she stayed, there was no way to work things out between them, but he at least wanted some sort of closure. Her departure sort of left things open.

“I'm going for a walk,” she said, looking over her shoulder at him. Her eyes searched for Guy once more, who was the only friend she had now. But she could just barely see his face through her blurry vision. “I just need to...”

Then she lost it, and the rest of the pavement was cleared in a sprint towards the street. It seemed like she was trying to make it to the other side of the road, but she couldn't quite get there.

But how did it happen? Guy stood in horror and watched as Chris ran after her. One of the men moved beside him and ran inside to make a phone call. Was the street really that dark? Even without any streetlights nearby- what about the headlights? How had no one heard it coming? They had all been so engrossed in the argument that they failed to hear the truck speeding down the road.

At least, Guy could only hope that Liz hadn't known it was coming.

“Guy?”

Guy looked up to see Chris standing beside him. His face was worn, his eyelids and cheeks drooping, dark circles accentuating his grief. Guy didn't say anything.

“You didn't have to come in today,” Chris told him.

“I wanted to,” Guy said. But he kept it to himself that he only came because it made him feel closer to Liz. It was the only way for him to experience that now. Chris looked around the empty garage.

“Well, I don't have anything for you to do.” Chris ran a hand through his hair and sighed. “Would you... Well, Jon and I were going to visit the... cemetery... Do you want to come with us?”

Guy stared at Chris. He didn't hate him like he should have. But that was most likely because he didn't feel much of anything at all. He hadn't felt anything in weeks. “Sure,” he answered. Chris tried to smile.

Then there were a few moments of silence. It was a little awkward. “Jonny should be here soon... another ten minutes or so.”

“All right.”

The two men were completely silent after that, until Jonny arrived. Even if there had been something to say between them, neither would have said it.

In the car, Jonny spoke quietly with Chris. Guy sat in the back seat and stared out the window. He preferred it that way. He could hear Chris and Jonny conversing, but he tried not to listen. If he had listened, he would have had to think about what they were saying, and at that particular moment he was in no mood to think. So he watched the trees go by until the car stopped.

The men stood quietly gathered around the grave, all staring at the tombstone. After a while, some sniffing came from Chris's direction. Before long, he was burying his head in Jonny's shoulder. Jonny placed his arms around Chris and rubbed his back a bit. Guy watched them, then stared at Liz's grave once more.

It was hard for him to understand how life could go on after something like this. Chris had a right to be upset. But he also had someone there to comfort him. He had someone to be with still. Guy had no one. He didn't even feel entitled to react as Chris had.

He couldn't seem to control himself entirely, though, and a few tears fell down his cheeks. Chris must have lifted his head at some point and was now watching Guy.

“You talked to her, didn't you?” Chris asked him, innocently. “You were her friend.”

Guy looked up at him. He nodded slightly. “I-I talked to her sometimes. About as often as you did.” Standing at Liz's grave had changed something for him; for the first time in as long as he could remember, he actually felt something other than numbness. It would have been nice to feel a positive emotion (though he had never truly known what happiness was like), but at this moment he looked at Chris with anger flashing in his eyes.

Chris looked hurt, still being held in Jonny's arms. He frowned deeper. “You know, I did love her-”

“Funny way of showing it,” Guy said, a sudden strength in his voice. Chris shook his head.

“No, not like that,” he said. “I loved her like friend. She was my friend. My best friend.”

“Is that how you treat all of your friends? You lie to them and leave them with no one else while you go off and have your fun.” Chris scrunched up his eyebrows. He was apparently confused by Guy's attitude. He backed away from Jonny and turned fully to Guy.

“Why are you saying this?” he quietly asked. “You don't know what any of that was like. You don't know what we were like.”

“I know how she felt before...” Guy couldn't finish. He clenched and unclenched his fists. “I know how hurt she was. Even when you weren't with him. She told me. She told me about all the nights she would lay in bed alone and cry herself to sleep because you were too busy working.”

“It wasn't how I wanted it to be. It wasn't how I thought it would be... But things were complicated.” Chris's offense was slowly turning into aggression. “You can't fully understand that.”

“And you can't just run away from your problems and into someone else's arms because you can't handle reality,” Guy retorted. “Not everyone gets that chance, to share that sort of bond, and it seems like you've had more chances than you deserve.”

“It's not like I slept around or anything,” Chris shouted. “I've only ever been with two people my entire life. And what gives you the right to talk about running away from reality? You're always spacing, off in some other world, and why is that? Because you like the way your life has turned out? You're not perfect either.”

“I know I'm not perfect, but at least I would have treated her better!” Guy took a few deep breaths and looked at the rectangle of overturned dirt. “And maybe then she'd be...”

“Is that what this is about, then?” Chris asked, his gaze still on Guy. “You blame me.” After a few seconds of tense silence, Guy steadily moved his eyes upon Chris once more. He thought his expression was enough of an answer, but he was apparently wrong. “Say it, then. Go on, say it to my face.”

Chris was a little unsure of why he was becoming so angry. But deep down, he knew it was directed at himself, because he too felt it was his fault. He strongly wanted Guy to act like he always did and keep his mouth shut. Maybe that would mean that he wasn't entirely to blame. Guy continued to stare at him.

It didn't work. Chris's guilt didn't subside in the least, and before he knew it he was shouting once more, louder and more infuriated than he had ever been. “SAY IT, GUY! JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU KNOW IS TRUE- THAT LIZ IS DEAD AND IT'S BECAUSE OF ME. IT'S MY FAULT, AND WITHOUT ME SHE WOULD STILL BE ALIVE-”

Guy silenced Chris with a firm meeting between his fist and Chris's jaw. At first, Chris was actually glad. He thought he deserved it, until Guy hit him again. And again. It all happened so quickly; after only a few seconds, Chris could no longer tell exactly where the blood running down his face was coming from.

Guy felt a pair of hands tightly grip his shoulders. In the heat of the moment, he had forgotten that Jonny was even there. Jonny pushed him back, yelling, “Get off of him!!” and the force of his shove caused Guy to fall and land on his back. He laid on the ground for a fraction of a second before he sat up and watched as Jonny tended to Chris.

And that was it. After all that had happened, nothing had really changed. This was just always how it was going to be. Chris was given attention, love he didn't deserve, and Guy was all alone.

Guy never told Will any of what had occurred. He was just his usual self, flighty and distant, and so Will didn't think anything was even wrong. Their daily routine was seemingly unchanged, though Guy was hardly the same as he was before, but he tried his best to hide it. For some reason he felt that telling Will about his life would just create more problems.

The shop was sold to an older gentleman by the name of Frank Botterman a mere week after it was put up for sale. Chris had informed the employees of the change, and that they should be able to keep their jobs with the same pay if they pleased. The other workers were happy with that, but Guy wasn't sure if he did want to go back. He didn't care much for Chris, but it wouldn't feel right working there for someone else. And with his personality, Guy was sure to be sacked within days.

Chris had left with Jonny for New York as quickly as possible. It seemed that he was itching to put everything behind him and start fresh in a new country. Guy thought it was cowardly of him, but he also wished that he had the ability to do that. Even if he did move to another country, he would not be able to get over Liz's death. It was all he could think about.

Ultimately, Guy chose to stay at the garage. This way he knew he would at least have a job for a few weeks. He tried his hardest to be a more prolific worker so that he could continue to work there. And it wasn't even that bad; whenever he felt himself drifting off or slowing down, he would pretend that Liz came into the garage and sat down to watch him. As he worked, he could feel her gaze on his body.

It may have been torture to anyone else- to Chris, for example. Chris wouldn't have been able to handle being around there, where Liz had so often existed, knowing that she could never be there again. It would have given him a pain he had never felt before, one that couldn't be erased without leaving everything else behind.

But to Guy, it was simple. Every morning as he pulled into the parking lot, he saw Liz smiling at him from the porch of her and Chris's house. It made him feel better.

And she often came into the shop to watch him. They never spoke to each other, because there was no need. They could communicate telepathically; as soon as one thought of something, the other knew about it instantly. Guy liked it that way.

Then, once his work was finished for the day, he took a drive into town. He would buy a single flower from the florist, then he would go down to the cemetery. He laid the flower on the bare patch of dirt everyday, and as he stood back up he felt Liz's reassuring hand on his shoulder. It was his ritual, but after a relative span of time he wasn't even sure whose grave he was visiting. It was some part of him that had apparently died, but when he felt that touch from Liz he felt complete. What was there to be missing?

When he was home alone he daydreamed, picturing the life he and Liz could have had. They wouldn't have married young like she and Chris, but maybe they had met when they were young. High school, even. Maybe they had been good friends, then realized one day that they could be so much more.

After a few years of marriage they decided to have children. The first was a beautiful baby girl named Lila, followed by twin boys. Liz wasn't entirely thrilled about having two boys at once, but luckily they were both mild-mannered.

They lived in the countryside, making a living by raising livestock. Guy wasn't sure why he had chosen that career path, since it didn't particularly interest him, but it gave them enough money to live a healthy lifestyle.

During the warm summer nights, the family dined in the backyard. There was a picnic table set up not far from the porch that they gathered at. Of course, Max and Simon, the twins, had to be set up in high chairs since they were so small. Lila was just barely big enough herself.

After dinner, they watched the sunset. Simon liked it the most. He would clap every single time the sky went black. Simon's enthusiasm greatly amused Liz.

In the winter, they were confined to the cozy living room. They lit a fire in the fireplace and watched it burn for hours. This time, Max was most entertained.

“Maybe we should keep an eye on him later on,” Guy suggested to Liz. Liz tossed back her head and laughed.

“Yeah, he might end up as an arsonist or something!” Max laughed, too, though he didn't understand. Lila scrunched up her nose in a skeptical manner.

“What does that mean?” she bitterly asked. Lila hated not knowing things. It wasn't really that she had a thirst for knowledge, though, she just didn't like to feel left out. Her sour expression faded as Liz told her the meaning of the word, and after that she had little interest in the rest of the conversation.

Guy could not have pictured a more perfect life than this. Sure, there were imperfections that existed, as there should be, but they were minimal compared to those of other possible versions of his life. He had a beautiful wife, three spectacular children, and he was able to make enough money to provide for them, enough to satisfy all of their needs. They never wanted anything, because they had everything they could want.

When he went to bed at night, Liz was nearly always already asleep. He would make sure to get there early enough so that he could just lie for a while and watch her. It may have been slightly creepy, but he couldn't help it. He would try to close his eyes and drift off, but there was a tiny fear inside of him that when he woke up it would all be gone, merely a hopeful dream that ended too soon. If he stayed awake just a little longer, he could hold onto his happiness.