I had a little scene that didn’t fit into the the story — I pushed the word count to the groaning point as it was. Training Cats is my contribution to the Torquere Charity Sips, meant to benefit the “It Gets Better” project, to educate GLBT teens that a happy, healthy life as GLBT adult is real and possible for them.
Training Cats could be subtitled “The Case of the Missing Spine” and this is how it looks from Evan’s point of view.
Evan scanned the yellow bag of peanut candies, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from blurting out what he thought. He’d heard Brent’s request for plain M&Ms as surely as Tyler had. He was a PriceCo check-out clerk, he wasn’t supposed to have an opinion on the customers’ purchases, and he couldn’t cause a scene by questioning their choices.
He wanted to yell at Brent and Tyler both.
“Brent!” he wanted to say. “Don’t let him treat you like that! You don’t have to put up with someone who doesn’t respect you. You deserve better.”
But Evan said nothing, only handed the receipt to his friend. He did catch Tyler’s eye for a silent bitch-out, trying to say with a look everything that couldn’t come out of his mouth. He couldn’t speak his mind to Tyler here at work and he’d probably never see the handsome pharmacist and his stuck-up glamour-boy anywhere else.
Tyler’s lip curled. ‘You’re something nasty stuck to the bottom of my shoe,’ his eyes said, ‘and keep your mouth shut.’
Evan wouldn’t speak, but there were other ways to get the point across. He watched Brent and Tyler push their laden cart toward the door, hating the arrogance in the set of Tyler’s black cashmere-clad shoulders and the defeat under Brent’s white dispensing jacket.
Before he closed up his register for the night, Evan bought a bag of plain M&Ms.
Training Cats is on hiatus but will be back soon.