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5

Oliver

Lane sighed, “Well… I haven’t reported it. And can you just zip it with the judgment? I know it’s probably a colossally stupid choice in the event that the person ends up hurting me, but I just don’t want to deal with the police on top of everything else.”

Behind him, the cafe door opened, bringing in three beautiful men. My eyes skittered around to see if there were cameras that I’d missed; the men looked as if they could be actors. Hm, no cameras.

“I get it, Lane, but yeah, I think it’s a stupid decision.” I sucked in a breath. I couldn’t help but be distracted by the newcomers. “Sorry, but Jesus . Try to be casual, but look at the total hotties that just walked in–Damn.”

“Great attention span, Oliver,” Lane teased, a laugh bubbling out of him. He twisted in his chair, not being sneaky at all like I’d hoped. He must have made eye contact with them as the shorter of the men, although he was still much taller than both of us, began walking towards us with purpose in his step.

“Lane! Lane! Why is he coming over here? Oh my god, he’s going to hate-crime us because we were checking him out. I’m too young to die, Lane!” I sputtered. Maybe I was being dramatic, but you couldn’t trust anyone these days.

I was more than used to bigotry.

Lane seemingly ignored my panicked babbling, so I reached across our table to shake his shoulder as the man drew nearer.

Even with a friendly and welcoming smile on his face, the man immediately made me uncomfortable. I swallowed my fear, making sure to breathe as he stopped and towered over us.

“Mr. Bennett! Such a coincidence seeing you here! My brothers and I just stopped in for a quick breakfast.” The large, imposing man gestured to the tall blondes still standing near the counter, who now seemed honed in on our table. I shivered as I made eye contact with one of them.

Something in my gut told me that all three of them were dangerous. I was about to get up and leave, but I caught the look on Lane’s face. His eyes gleamed as he looked up adoringly at the man. When the man’s eyes were on Lane, they were soft, but his gaze hardened when he turned to look at me. He roughly asked, “And this is?”

My chest felt like it was closing in.

“Hi, Dr. Cohen. This is my friend, Oliver,” Lane beamed.

The man, Dr. Cohen, gave me a smile that I was sure was fake. “Ah! Yes, Oliver! It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Lane’s therapist,” he said, offering an outstretched hand. He wanted to shake my hand?

Nope. No way.

He looked like he would crush all of the bones in my hand if I returned his handshake. I frowned.

I tried to speak as strongly as I could manage. “Hi… Aren’t you breaking client confidentiality by introducing yourself like that? I mean, Lane already mentioned that he was seeing a therapist, but I don’t think you’re supposed to approach him in public like that, right?” His expression tightened, hatred burning in his eyes.

Before Dr. Cohen could respond, a husky, teasing voice filled the room. “Well, doesn’t this little puppy have a big bark?”

Was I the puppy?

It became clear when one of the blonde men appeared at my side, looking down at me. Why was I a puppy? I wanted to ask, but my body was frozen. I felt suffocated; I refused to make eye contact.

To my utter dismay, the man pulled a chair over from a nearby table. The screeching of the chair feet across the floor made me clench my teeth; the high-pitched sound was painful to my already overloaded processing system. Of course, the chair was placed way too close to my own. When the man sat, he spread his legs apart in a show of dominance. I knew it was on purpose that his leg touched my own. The touch made my stomach lurch, but even more disconcerting was that he acted like he didn’t notice the warmth migrating between our skin.

I had no oxygen left in my lungs by the time the other blonde man copied the first’s actions and sat inappropriately close to me on the other side. When I had glimpsed them from afar just minutes earlier, I thought it possible that they were twins due to their height and similar features, but I couldn’t tell for sure due to the distance. I was still curious if I had been right, but refused to raise my head to confirm that fact.

The man sitting to my right purred, “I like this one, brother. Can we have him?”

Excuse me?

I was so angry at how they were treating me, but still so paralyzed by their terrifying aura that I felt unable to move even an inch.

Lane thankfully came to my rescue. He growled at the maybe-twins, “You’re too close, he’ll probably start screaming if you don’t back the fuck up.”

“You heard him, boys. You shouldn’t be scaring his friend like that.”

I wilted in relief and exhaustion in my chair as Lane’s therapist scolded them, resulting in both of them rising from their chairs and freeing me from their presence.

“You’re no fun, Grey. We’ll leave. See you later,” one of them sneered.

As they left, Dr. Cohen addressed us both. “My apologies, as you can see, they’re not great with people besides themselves. I hope neither of you has the misfortune of running into them again.” He smiled at Lane and grabbed his coffee cup from the table. “I should probably catch up with them. I’ll see you soon, Lane.”

We sat in silence for a moment before Lane spoke up. “Sorry, that was weird. Dr. Cohen’s so nice, so I can’t believe his brothers acted like that. You okay?”

“I guess. I’m feeling overstimulated now, so I’m gonna head back to the shop. Let me know if anything else happens with your stalker, okay?”

I let out a heavy exhale, standing from the table. As I gave my friend a quick hug, I hoped that he couldn’t feel me shaking.

It was okay. We’d never crossed paths before; I crossed my fingers that we never would again.

* * *

TRANNY BITCH. The spray paint covered the entire front window of the shop. For a while, I just stared at it.

My hands shook as they hung at my sides. When I’d walked down the stairs at the back of the building, I had been expecting another normal day; my mind was focused on opening up the shop and starting my morning. I certainly wasn’t expecting to turn the corner and see that my storefront had been vandalized.

It was 6 a.m., and I had locked up around 9 p.m., so it must have occurred overnight while I was in my apartment.

Once the shock had receded enough for my body to move, I shakily sat down on the cement sidewalk with my back pressed against the wall. I reminded myself to breathe deeply to avoid hyperventilating. Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I internally debated who to call. Lane… Lane was already dealing with a stalker and, in my opinion, a sketchy therapist—I was 75% sure they may be one and the same.

But Josh–Josh stood up for me the other day against those weird customers. Plus, I already knew that there was no way Lane would know how to remove spray paint from glass.

I sighed and tapped the call button on his contact.

“Hello? Oliver? What’s up?” Josh asked as he picked up my call.

“C-can you come to the shop? Something happened, and I need help.”

“Are you okay? Hurt?” His voice rose with concern.

“No, no, I’m fine. Well–You’ll see. I know it’s early and everything, but I just… I feel like I can’t think. Just–Can you come?” My fingers trembled holding my phone up to my ear. I pulled my knees to my chest, using my free arm to hug them closer.

“Of course, I’m putting my shoes on as we speak. You don’t sound good, though. Could you stay on the call until I get there? Where are you? Are you in the shop?” I listened to the rustling of movement from his end. My head felt horrible, so I lay it in the gap between my chest and knees.

“Yeah, I’m sitting outside the front. I don’t know if I should go in,” I mumbled.

“You’re sitting outside? What happened? Are you safe?”

“I think I’m safe, but I don’t know if I should call the police, and I just–I just can’t think everything through right now.”

Josh’s breath hitched. “Why do you think the police might need to come? Please, please, just tell me what happened.”

“Someone spray-painted on the front window.”

“Spray-painted? Yeah, I can call the non-emergency line once I get to you, okay? Is it like a tag or a picture or what?” His steps were a calming rhythm in my ear. Thump, thump, thump.

I exhaled. “I-it says tranny bitch.” The line went silent. “Josh?”

“I’m still here. I’m just–I’m so sorry, Oliver. I’ll be there in just a second.”

“Okay.” The line went quiet again, besides the sound of his heavy steps on cement.

I was startled when I felt a hand touch my shoulder, but my body sagged slightly in relief when Josh’s worried face filled my line of sight. He knelt down on the sidewalk and tugged me into his side.

“It’s okay; we’ll get this all figured out, I promise,” he whispered softly, tucking my head under his chin. “Is it alright if I call the police?” I nodded. Josh breathed out as he stood up from the embrace. He gave me a small smile. “I’m just going to stand over there,“ He pointed to a lamppost maybe twenty or thirty feet down the sidewalk, “and call. Just wave or shout if you need me, okay?”

My head bobbed in confirmation. I started to pick at my stubby nails to distract myself as he walked off.

Josh was so kind. When I first met him, he hadn’t immediately given off that impression, but that was definitely because of my own biases. Guiltily, I thought about how I’d assumed he’d act like a frat boy with booze for brains, or a rude popular kid who acted superior to people who looked like me. I’d made all those assumptions just from looking at him, and I felt horrible about it. Sure, he was an attractive baseball player with family money, but that didn’t affect how he treated others. He never acted like he was better than me or flaunted his money around. He was an amazing guy, honestly.

I buried my head back into the little gap between my chest and knees, hiding the blush that I was sure had spread across my cheeks. We’d been texting several times a day lately, and I almost felt like he’d flirted a few times. I was trying hard not to get my hopes up. Someone like him couldn’t possibly actually want me. But… What if he did? I was definitely open to dating him. I only wished that Grammy could’ve been alive to meet my first ever boyfriend. Getting a bit ahead of yourself there, I thought.

I jumped when something suddenly hit the side of my sneaker. A shoe—a very fancy shoe to be exact—had nudged me. When I raised my head, my heart dropped to my stomach.

It was them.

“Look, Hudson, he was waiting for us,” Hayes chuckled. He must’ve seen the confusion wash over my face, because he then added, “Because you’re on the ground at our feet? Have you already figured that out by yourself, pup? I’m proud!”

I threw a withered glare at him. “I’m kinda dealing with something if you hadn’t noticed, so fuck off—respectfully.” I nodded my head in the direction of my shop. Hudson tilted his head while staring at me with an unreadable expression. After a few steps to the right, they focused on the problem. I watched with curiosity as they spoke under their breath to each other.

While the twins were still standing by the window, Josh bounded up to me. “They’re going to send an officer soon to make sure the inside of your shop is safe. I mean it probably is, but it’d be better to have them check it out—just in case. How’re you doing?”

I exhaled slowly, rising from the ground. “I’m okay. And thank you, really,” I smiled. Josh blushed at my words, looking away for a moment.

“You called me for help. I would never leave you to deal with this alone. So, no thanks are necessary, okay? I… I really care about you, Oliver. Thank you for letting me help,” he blurted, a shy smile on his face. Before I knew it, he’d pulled me into his chest, arms wrapped around me in a hug.

“Oh, are we interrupting something?”

I couldn’t see which twin had spoken since my face was pressed into Josh’s lovely pecs. Josh released me as he responded, “No, um, do you need something?”

Hudson drawled, a too-bright smile on his lips, “We just want to support our friend in his time of need! It’s unacceptable that this happened. Are you doing okay, pup?” Josh raised a brow at the “pup” thrown in.

I glowered, “I’m fine, thank you. As you can see, I already have the support I need.”

“Hm. Alright then, I guess we’ll be going,” Hudson said, sizing up Josh with his gaze. Hayes grunted as they walked off.

Josh shifted towards me with a puzzled look. “Who were those guys?”

I exhaled, “I was going to say it’s a long story, but it’s really not. Lane started seeing this weird therapist, and those were his brothers. I met them in the cafe, do you remember?”

“Oh yeah! A few days ago, right? Wait, that was you meeting them? They got so close to you that I thought you were friends,” he remarked, his hand moving to hold the back of his neck.

“Definitely not friends—they’re creepy. I get a bad feeling from them. Not to mention their brother…” I shuddered remembering the incident at the coffee shop and the weight of their predatory gazes.

“Well, I’ll try to keep my distance from them. But you have to tell me if they make you uncomfortable, okay?” He ran a hand through his hair. “You don’t think they did this right?”

“No, and I don’t even think they knew I was trans until just now. This seems more like a dumb teenage prank.”

“Alright. Maybe there’s some CCTV around here that the cops can pull? I want them to see the vandalism in person in case they need to see it firsthand, but then I’ll help you get this cleaned off. But I think you should close for the day. This is a lot to handle even without the transphobia, so I can’t imagine how you’re feeling,” Josh fretted, eyebrows knitting together again.

“I um… I don’t think I’ve really processed it yet. I’m still a little shocked. I’m just trying to keep it together, I think,” I stuttered. Josh pulled me in for a side hug, not speaking yet emitting a calming energy. I leaned into his warmth.

I would’ve liked to have said that it didn’t bother me; that I let the insults and hatred bounce right off me. And yes, I was used to it, but that didn’t mean I was immune to it. My own damn parents abandoned me for being trans, for heaven’s sake.

I think what got to me the most was that I hardly ever outright told people I was transgender. So, if people were being transphobic towards me… Wouldn’t that mean that I didn’t pass? It wasn’t like they would’ve called someone like Josh a tranny bitch . I tried my best to steer my thoughts away from that rabbit hole; it would only lead to more self-loathing.

“Hey… If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you,” Josh promised, his green eyes swimming with sincerity.

“Thank you. I mean it. Did you… Did you know already?”

“Know what?”

“That I’m trans, dummy,” I weakly laughed, kicking at the sidewalk.

“Was I supposed to know?” He looked away, his fingers nervously fumbling with his hoodie’s pocket.

“So, when we first met, you automatically saw me as a guy?”

He looked back at me, a slight frown pulling his features down. “Well, yeah. I just assumed you had tiny parents.”

A brow quirked, I asked curiously, “Why are you so chill if you’ve just now learned that I’m trans?”

“It’s just something that doesn’t matter to me. Well–It matters, I mean I care about you–ugh. I feel like I’m fucking this up, man. What I’m trying to say is that it changes nothing for me. I’m just…I-I-I couldn’t care less how your body was made. That sounds weird, I–” I cut his rambling off, holding a finger to his lips.

“Thank you,” I swallowed, “for being a decent person.” Josh smiled before realizing how close he had gotten to my face and pulling back to a safe distance; his entire face flushed red. We stared into each other’s eyes, and I, at least, began contemplating just how close we’d gotten to a kiss.

We were pulled out of our charged trance when a police cruiser pulled up to the curb beside us.

Josh stuttered, “L-looks like they’re here.” I shook my head, carefully suppressing my laughter.

I let out a deep exhale, straightening my spine. “Right. Let’s get this done.”