It was the kind of place where it would have been easy to get in trouble, and after he’d turned into the gravel lot with Evan following in his Prius, he’d half expected Evan to keep going. But Evan must have suspected the same thing about possible trouble. It was the only reason he’d ever set foot in an establishment like this, especially at this time of night. Evan didn’t exactly blend in with the late-evening crowd here, what with his pink shirt, argyle socks, leather loafers, and neatly parted sandy blond hair. In fact, his Prius might as well have been a neon sign announcing that his goal was to get beaten up by the good old boys in pickup trucks who’d just spent most of the night getting wasted.
Colin turned on the faucet and wet his hands before bringing them to his face. The water was cold, exactly what he wanted. His skin felt like it was on fire. The marine he’d fought had hit a lot harder than he’d expected – and that didn’t count the illegal blows – but who would have known by looking at him? Tall and thin, jarhead haircut, goofy eyebrows… He shouldn’t have underestimated the guy, and he told himself he wouldn’t let it happen again. Either that, or he’d end up scaring his classmates all year long, which just might ruin the whole college experience for them. There’s this super scary guy in my class with bruises all over his face and these crazy tattoos, Mom!, he could imagine them saying on the phone. And I have to sit right next to him!
He shook the water from his hands. Leaving the restroom, he spotted Evan in the corner booth. Unlike him, Evan would have fit right in at the college. He still had a baby face, and as he approached, Colin wondered how many times a week he even had to shave.
“That took you long enough,” Evan said as Colin slid into the booth. “I was wondering if you got lost.”
Colin slouched against the vinyl cushion. “I hope you weren’t too nervous all alone out here.”
“Ha, ha.”
“I have a question for you.”
“Go ahead.”
“How many times a week do you shave?”
Evan blinked. “You were in the bathroom for ten minutes and that’s what you were thinking about?”
“I wondered about it while I was walking to the table.”
Evan stared at him. “I shave every morning.”
“Why?”
“What do you mean, why? For the same reason you do.”
“I don’t shave every morning.”
“Why are we even talking about this?”
“Because I was curious and I asked and then you answered,” Colin said. Ignoring Evan’s expression, he nodded toward the menus. “Did you change your mind and decide to order?”
Evan shook his head. “Not a chance.”
“You’re not going to eat anything?”
“No.”
“Acid reflux?”
“Actually, it has more to do with my suspicion that the last time the kitchen was inspected, Reagan was president.”
“It’s not that bad.”
“Have you seen the cook?”
Colin glanced toward the grill behind the counter; the cook was right out of central casting, with a greasy apron straining to cover his ample gut, a long ponytail, and tattoos covering most of his lower arms.
“I like his tats.”
“Gee, there’s a surprise.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I know. You always tell the truth. That’s part of your problem.”
“Why is it a problem?”
“Because people don’t always want the truth. Like when your girlfriend asks if a particular outfit makes her look fat, you should tell her she looks beautiful.”
“I don’t have a girlfriend.”
“That’s probably because you told the last one she looked fat without adding the beautiful part.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“You get my point, though. Sometimes, you need to… stretch the truth to get along with people.”
“Why?”
“Because that’s what normal people do. That’s the way society works. You can’t just tell people whatever pops into your mind. It makes them uncomfortable or hurts their feelings. And just so you know, employers hate it.”
“Okay.”
“You don’t believe me?”
“I believe you.”
“But you don’t care.”
“No.”
“Because you’d rather tell the truth.”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“It’s what I’ve learned works for me.”
Evan stayed silent for a moment. “Sometimes I wish I could be more like that. Just tell my boss what I really think of him without caring about the consequences.”
“You can. You choose not to.”
“I need the paycheck.”