Page 10 of Something Like Hail

“Sold!” Harolddeclared.

A few pairs of classic Levi’s jeans were added to the pile.They browsed belts with giant buckles, but thankfully even Haroldthought this was a step too far. Once finished at the register—thetotal making Noah cringe—they walked into the parking lot, the sunlow on the horizon.

“Question,” Harold said,flustering him with that perfect smile. “I know it’s been a fullday, but if you’ve still got the energy…”

“What?” Noah asked,struggling to breathe.

“Do you want to go on adate with me?”

“A date?”

“Yeah. Dinner. What do yousay?”

Noah swallowed, mouthdry. “Sounds good.”

“Awesome!” Harold lookedhim over. “Small favor though. I want you to put on the newclothes.”

Noah stifled a groan. “Do I have to?”

Another flawless smile, this time reinforcedby dimples. “For me?”

Soon he was on the other side of Harold’scar, using it as a shield from the busier half of the parking lotso he could change clothes. Noah felt like he was getting dressedfor a rodeo. That brought back less-than-pleasant memories. As soonas he finished changing, Harold grabbed him by the arm.

“Over here. Quick! Thesunset is perfect!”

Noah was dragged to one side of the storethey had just left and pushed up against the brick wall.

“Stand there, just likethat,” Harold said, backing up.

Noah squinted against the sun, adjusting tothe light until he could see Harold holding up his phone. Was hetaking pictures?

“Done!”

“I wasn’t ready yet,” Noahsaid.

“I know. That made it evenbetter.” Harold jerked his head toward his car and started walkingtoward it again. “You’ll have studio photos taken if you get thatfar, but for now, this will do.”

“Wait,” Noah said, hurryingto catch up. “Is this for a dating profile or whatever? There’s awebsite?”

Harold nodded. “I call it The Menu, butyeah, there’s—”

The stern faces of his parents appeared inhis mind, grim and disappointed. “Is it public?”

Harold looked over at him. “It’s an appthese days, and you’ve gotta know where to find it. Closeted?”

“No. I just don’t wantanyone knowing.”

“That you’re an escort. Iget it.” Harold’s expression had lost some of its brightness. Washe insulted? Did he actually feel proud of hisoccupation?

Noah got into the car, worried that he hadruined their relationship before it had a chance to begin.Conversation was minimal as they drove.

Harold loosened up again when they stood inthe parking lot of a steakhouse. “Paradise! For us, anyway. Not somuch for the poor cows. You hungry?”

“Always,” Noah said,stomach growling as they entered.

The restaurant did indeed seem likeparadise. He struggled to remember the last time he had eatensomewhere with waiters that wasn’t a cheap diner. Was it with hisparents? Or back when he was dating— Yup! Noah smiled. That haddefinitely been the last time. Both starving, they had dined anddashed, feeling so bogged down with food that he was sure theywould be too slow and get caught.

“Been here before?” Haroldasked from across the table, mistaking the reason for hissmile.