Page 102 of The Token Yank

“I was thinking about it, and when I go back to school, I’m going to get a part-time job. Maybe as a waiter or runner orsomething.”

“Rafe, I wouldn’t do that. I mean, how many hours are you talking about? You don’t want it to interfere with your course load.” His dad pinched his face and seesawed his head, and usually, Rafe would heed that warning. His father always knew best. But not this time. He was tired of following his parents’ goodideas.

“I’ll befine.”

“Working at a restaurant, you’ll be exhausted from being on your feet. You’ll have to work at all hours, and you won’t even come home with that much,” his momsaid.

“I don’t need your permission to get a job,” Rafe said with an eerie calm. His mom was surprised at his reaction, and he hoped that maybe for the first time, she saw her son as a man. “Also, I’m going to apply for my own credit card. It’s about time I have one that’s solely mine. To build upcredit.”

“Oh, okay,” his momsaid.

His dad gave a small smile in the mirror. “We’re proud of you,Rafe.”

“You’re growingup!”

He realized that his parents, despite being overprotective, always meant well. He was grateful to have them, grateful that they loved him unconditionally. He didn’t realize that he had missed them until he was home. “I love youguys.”

His dad reached behind him and squeezed Rafe’s knee. “Love youmore.”

Eamonn

Eamonnchundered.

He barely got “Cheers, mate” out before rushing into his room and hurling into the bloody toilet. The pain and hurt barreled through him and had to getout.

The next day, there was no vomiting, but his body still felt like a bag of shite. He packed up for winter holiday and tried not to think aboutRafe.

You did the right thing cutting it off.This was never going towork.

He shoved his clothes into his bag extra hard, not caring if they came out stretched or wrinkled. Doing the right thing wasn’t easy. Holy fuck, was it not easy. It was for the best that he put a firm end on their relationship in the flat. The truth was Eamonn couldn’t go with Rafe to Heathrow. He couldn’t bear seeing another man he loved get on anotherairplane.

He felt sick all over again. Back to the loo hewent.

Doing the right thing wasbollocks.

* * *

The feeling persisted throughout holiday.Eamonn attended the box company’s office Christmas party, and he couldn’t even get in the festive mood despite the abundance of free food and alcohol. His future co-workers treated him like a full part of the team. They summoned him to the Xerox room to take shots. His two team leaders were in their forties, but they downed those shots like it was one quid drinks night at Apothecary. He liked all of his future co-workers. None of them took what they did too seriously. “At the end of the day, we’re just making boxes,” his boss had told him betweenshots.

Eamonn went shot for shot with his co-workers, but his heart just wasn’t in it. Uncle George came up behind him and swung an arm around his shoulders. They clinkedglasses.

“Hiya. Having a good time?” Uncle Georgeasked.

“Yeah. It’s a greatparty.”

“After a year of full-time work, you’ll come to truly appreciate a party like this.” Uncle George led him to where his cubicle would be. It had been decorated with red and green streamers like the rest of them. “I have big plans for you here. You have a very bright futureahead.”

Eamonn smiled and nodded, appreciative of what his uncle was saying, but unable to muster any genuineexcitement.

Uncle George slapped him on the back. “You seem so serious! Loosen up. You’re at aparty!”

“I guess I just need more todrink.”

“Don’t go overboard. These will be your co-workers and you still have to work with them.” His uncle left him to join some of the higher-ups for acocktail.

Eamonn looked out at the party, wishing he could feel an iota of the merriment that surroundedhim.

He left a few minutes later and met up with Heath at a pub in Guildford, not too far from his mum’s house. He instantly felt a bit better when that gangly Eiffel Tower of a man sat down next tohim.