“I like that the menu has pictures,” said Delia, running her finger over the word LuAnne’s on the laminated paper. “For example, if I didn’t know what a hamburger was, here is a visual aid to help me understand.”

“I know, it’s the shittiest place possible,” said Burns.

“Nah, trust me, I’ve been to much worse. My friends were running this off-the-grid pop-up restaurant for a while in an abandoned house, the menu was strictly dumpster-provided food.”

“Um…”

“Don’t worry, the health department finally intervened. I do find it a little odd that for our big date, you’ve chosen a place engineered not to impress me.”

Burns slumped in his side of the booth. “We could go somewhere else?”

“What? No. The last thing I need is my dad hearing about cut-crystal goblets and waiters in dinner jackets. He would never let that go.”

Burns thought about the last time he was here, sharing onion rings with Karl. How different that had felt. It was in some other era of life, long before now.

“You weren’t in church,” she said, looking up from her menu.

“Yeah. Church is more of a mom-and-dad thing. Does that bother you?”

“Me? Dude, I don’t care.”

“My mom went on and on about your singing.”

Delia rolled her eyes. “I know. My dad insisted. It doesn’t matter. I knew it by heart. I could recite the thing in my sleep.”

He tried to remember the words. Just as I am without…something. Something, something, was shed for me.

“I guess I couldn’t,” he said.

“Good thing you don’t go to church, then.”

All I have to do is sit here, make small talk, eat some food and go home. She’ll see that no sparks are flying, and we’ll never have to do it again.

“Did you go to church while you were at college?” he asked. “You didn’t come down every weekend, I know. My mom would’ve noticed that.”

“Are you insane? The last four years have been the only reprieve from that place that I have ever known. I don’t want to get all blasphemous up in this charming establishment, but oh my god, Burns. Being back here, knowing my dad is watching my every move? After four years of freedom? I’ll be lucky if I don’t wind up on Xanax after this.”

He couldn’t help it; he laughed. “Your home life must be about as strained as mine.”

“I don’t know what I was thinking, coming back here. Cray had an opening, and it seemed to make sense, get a job, save some money—”

“Just like me!” said Burns.

“And then you get back into your folks’ clutches and think why didn’t I run for the hills?”

The waitress arrived to take their orders. Cheeseburger and onion rings for Burns, chicken fingers and side-salad for Delia.

“Speaking of running for the hills,” Delia continued, “I hear you took your delightful friend Karl to the hills for a little fishing. How manly of you.”

Danger ahead. Be careful.

Burns shrugged. “We didn’t catch anything.”

“I have so much trouble picturing Karl going outside. Tell him to call me, would you?”

Can we not talk about him please? If I think about him too much, I’m going to get extremely hard, and it’s going to be embarrassing.

“He’ll be happy to hear you asked.”

“He’s a kindred spirit,” she said. “I could tell from the moment he opened his mouth. I was so scared, coming down here, that there’d be nothing but small-minded people. You know the kind. They think about nothing but fishing.”

The wink she gave him might have been flirtatious, or maybe it was just her way of trying to set him at ease. In any case, he chose to ignore it.

“It’s a mix,” he said. “I think thirty, forty years ago, it would’ve all been rednecks. But when Cray Reliable started up, and people from out of town started moving in…”

“Boom, instant cosmopolitan paradise,” she said.

“Maybe not paradise.”

“What’s Karl doing tonight?” she asked.

Wait, does she like him? Is she using me to get to him?

That is both delightfully weird and something that makes me intensely jealous.

He shrugged. “Probably sitting at home reading back issues of Socialist Worker.”

“I am intrigued,” she said. “And are you of a leftist bent too?”

“What? Me?”

I don’t think anyone has ever asked me the first thing about politics before. Karl has shoved books and newspapers in my face, sure, but that’s not the same as asking about my views.

“Did I touch a nerve?” she asked.

“No, I just… It’s not something I give a lot of thought to. I figure things are going okay right now—”

She snorted.

“—so we should just leave things like they are. Karl would disagree. Loudly.”

“Why don’t we call him now? He should come down.”

Burns hummed. “Because this is supposed to be the date our parents demanded of us?”

“Come on, Burns. You know as well as I do that we’re not meant for each other. Nothing wrong with you. It’s not a criticism. I’m sure there are a million girls who will go for that big muscle-bound charm, especially if you spend most of the day outside. But my taste in guys runs more towards starving poets dying of tuberculosis.”

The image of Karl’s perfect body came to mind unbidden, and Burns felt his cock twitch in response.

“He’s hardly starving,” he said.

“You don’t want to call him? Have your best friend along as a wingman?”

Actually no, because if he spends time with you, and you’re flirting with him and he’s loving it, it’s going to tear me apart inside.

“Yeah, I don’t think he’d like it,” Burns said finally.

“Wait, did I offend you? Is it bad that I find him so cute?”

“No, of course not. It’s just—”

“I mean, I’m not attracted to him. I know he’s gay, Burns. Don’t think I’m going to throw myself at him.”

“You know?”

“Please tell me this isn’t news to you,” she said.

“No, no.”

“He’s clearly gay. Maybe not, like, Big Queen Gay, but you can just tell with boys, when their homeworld doesn’t fit them.”

“Listen, not to be weird, but you’re not going to tell anybody, are you? I mean, I don’t know if Karl wants anyone to know, and—”

“Are you kidding? My dad is a psycho when it comes to this shit. Yeah, he acts all friendly and joyous, but you get him on the subject of gayness and he blows up. Whenever I’d kiss a girl back in college, I’d think ooh I’m going to tell him just to piss him off, but then he would’ve had me stuck in the chapel for the next ten years, praying the gay away.”

I know what you mean. He terrifies me.

“Let me just ask,” she said, “you two rushing off to the camping trip or whatever…that was really oddly timed. Are you…”

It felt like every drop of blood had drained out of Burns. He couldn’t feel his fingers anymore.

“Am I…?” he repeated back, his voice cracked.

“I mean, the two of you. Are you a thing?”

“A thing?”

“An item. Boyfriends. Lovers.”

“Lovers?”

It was impossible, he couldn’t catch his breath. His brain was in some paralysis mode and wouldn’t snap out of it. Memories of last night kept flooding his mind. Karl going down on him, Karl pinning him to the tree, Karl with his arms around him this morning, the sense of belonging he’d felt in Karl’s arms, the rightness of it…

She held up her hands in a placating gesture. “Dude! It’s okay. I wasn’t accusing you of anything. Damn, I know how you straight guys get if there’s any hint of The Gay in the air.”

Burns coughed, and picked up his napkin. “We’re not that,” he managed to say.

“Sorry. Just wanted to know the lay of the land.”

“I have to go,” he said.

“Do you? Already? The food isn’t even—”

“No, I have stuff to do, work tomorrow, whatever. Look, here’s twenty bucks, that should cover it.”

“Are you okay?”

But he couldn’t answer.