Rhys kept his eyes on the road ahead, not daring to look back. He wanted their hug to be the last image of Mason he had. Not him standing on the street, looking at him longingly. He wanted to remember the cuddles, the tender kisses, the way they would laugh over dinner.

But just thinking about those times, all the things he’d never get to do with Mason again, was too much to bear.

The tears came hard and fast, pouring down his cheeks.

Rhys had to pull over quickly, crying so hard he was struggling to breathe. He was somewhere on Victory Boulevard, the main street of Hidden Creek. The one he’d spent the past week trudging up and down. The one he’d never visit again.

He shuddered out a shaky gasp, pausing, gripping the wheel tightly as he took in a deep breath. Absorbing the spicy smell of his Impala. He gulped down as much air as possible. Deep in through the nose, out through the mouth. He tried his best to focus just on that.

In through the nose.

Out through the mouth.

His chest finally stopped shaking after ten deep breaths. He felt lighter but knew he could easily start bawling his eyes out at any second.

He signaled before pulling out onto the main street. The traffic was light this early before rush hour.

He drove past Grind, still closed until eight o’clock. He could just make out the colorful pamphlets for Mason’s Body Shop on the counter. The ones Doris had been delighted to put on display.

He double-checked his GPS, turning off Victory Boulevard. He soon found himself driving past Moore Wood, where the Christmas lights were still on even this early in the day, twinkling in the morning dusk. He’d hoped to visit the farmer’s market tomorrow morning, find some fresh goods for dinner inspiration. But he was already leaving.

After what felt like an instant, Rhys found himself back on I-45, passing the exact spot his car broke down last Friday morning. So much had changed in a week.

As he headed up toward Houston, Rhys tried to remind himself that this would hurt less with time. Tried to convince himself that he’d one day look back on these memories fondly.

He had a hard time believing it.

Once he was at a stable speed on the nearly empty highway, Rhys opened Spotify on his phone, hanging in its cradle on the dashboard. Hopefully music would help.

He skipped the first upbeat Queen song. Then the next. The Depeche Mode track that followed brought him no joy, just reminding him of Mason’s Wi-Fi password.

After skipping twelve tracks in a row, Rhys turned off Spotify, shoved the phone in his pocket, and drove in silence.

He drove for a while, losing track of time. He steadily weaved his way through the rush hour traffic, the road clearing up when he felt the phone in his pocket vibrating.

Mason.

Was he calling him for some reason?

Asking him to come back?

Rhys wanted to answer then and there, but when he reached down to take his phone out of his jeans, he knew it would be too dangerous on the freeway. He was on the outskirts of some town, having just made it through Houston. Exiting the freeway, he pulled into the nearest side street as quickly as possible.

He excitedly pulled his phone from his pocket, checking his missed call list.

Mom & Dad’s landline.

Rhys slumped in the driver’s seat, then realized he hadn’t been updating them on anything that was happening. They were just calling to see how his weekend was going.

He went to call them back, pausing as he caught a look of himself in the rearview mirror.

He looked like a wreck. Red eyes, gaunt. And like he might cry at any minute.

Rhys took in a deep breath.

“You only knew the guy a week. This is crazy!” Rhys told himself. “You’re just overcompensating because you didn’t have any real friends or relationships in college.”

He nodded his head along, almost convincing himself that was the truth.

He double-checked the data allowance on his phone before video-calling his parents back. He’d been using Mason’s Wi-Fi so much he’d barely touched his 4G.

A few moments later, his dad picked up, the video on the other end showing a live stream of his dad’s brown slippers.

“Rhys, I can see you. Can you see me?” his dad asked.

“You need to switch to the forward-facing camera,” Rhys gently explained.

“What?” his dad asked, like Rhys had just spoken in an alien language.

“There should be a symbol, two arrows in a circle, with a camera in it?” Rhys asked.

“…Beth?” his dad bellowed out for help.

Rhys sighed. A few moments later, he saw his mom’s purple robe sweep into the camera’s field of vision.

“Not again, Toby…” she lamented. The camera shook slightly as it presumably changed hands, switching to show his parents’ faces.

“Hi, honey!” his mom beamed at him.

“There’s my boy!” his dad happily replied. “Just wanted to see how you were doing?”

It looked to Rhys like his dad was already in his work clothes, a nice white shirt freshly pressed. He usually did the closing shift at the hardware store on a Friday, mainly to make sure at least some of his hardworking employees got a Friday night off once in a while.

“Wait!” Beth peered deeper at the screen. “Are you in the Impala!?”

“Yeah!” Rhys tried his best to sound excited but was sure it came off as deflated. “The oil pump regulator arrived ahead of schedule, so Mason was able to fix it up earlier today.”

He wanted to tell them all about their fling. How he was heartbroken right now. But explaining it out loud just made it seem all the more crazy.

I knew a guy for a week. Now I feel like my heart is breaking in two.

That was insane. He knew he had to be overreacting.

And he’d never really been one to burden his parents with his problems. They were helpful, and he knew they loved him. But sometimes it felt like they were two different species.

The only person he wanted to talk to, right then and there, was Mason. He’d understand Rhys in an instant.

“You okay there, champ?” his dad asked, both parents looking at him with concern.

“Yeah, just don’t have much data to spare,” Rhys lied. “Gotta go. See you in a couple days!”

“Bye!” his dad replied, looking at his wife worried.

“See you soon!” Rhys meekly waved goodbye before hanging up the call.

He stared out, catching a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror. He was glassy-eyed and in no condition to drive far. He’d need to build himself up again.

Instead, he checked for the nearest gas station. He’d forgotten to fill up as he left Hidden Creek. He could gas up, then spend the rest of the day driving.

A few minutes later, Rhys found himself at the gas stop. The Impala was a beauty, but her fuel consumption was not up to modern standards. Rhys filled her up to the brim, hoping it would last him at least for the days’ worth of driving.

He took his time browsing the snacks at the gas station, wondering if devouring his weight in chocolate might help his mood. He figured it wouldn’t hurt to try and filled his basket with every sugar-filled treat that caught his eye.

It seemed lots of people were gassing up before heading into work, and Rhys found himself at the back of a long line. Usually he’d have his headphones on and a favored playlist to keep him company.

Today was silence, the only sound the large ceiling fans spinning away above him. It barely helped with the heat, beads of sweat already forming on his forehead.

After the grandma in front paid for her gas with a check, Rhys finally reached the checkout.

“Pump number three please,” Rhys asked politely. “Along with these.”

He placed the almost overflowing basket on the counter, the checkout lady looking at the pile of treats with wide eyes. Rhys glanced behind him. The line was somehow longer than when he’d come in. At least ten people behind him.

Rhys grimaced, looking at the man behind him. A big trucker, wearing a sleeveless top.

“You could go ahead if you wanted,” Rhys offered.

“No thank you, youngin’,” he replied, actually tipping his hat toward Rhys.

“Thanks.” Rhys nodded at the man, turning back to the anxious checkout lady. Nearly a third of the basket had already been scanned.

“I’m going as fast as I can,” she squeaked, nervously brushing her long, red hair out of her eyes.

“And you’re doing great,” Rhys assured her. He glanced at her name badge — Olivia. “Thanks, Olivia.”

She nodded at him, smiling as she had already scanned and bagged half his sugary treats. As she was finishing up, Rhys could feel the sound of pumping music. It somehow reminded him of Jacob, his disastrous Grindr hookup from over a week ago.

Rhys looked out the window, seeing a sleek black car pull up to a pump. A man in a business suit stepped out before filling up his car. Even though he was the other side of the gas station, Rhys felt he had douche written all over him.

“That’ll be forty dollars and sixty-five cents,” Olivia told him.

Rhys’s eyes widened. He might have gone a bit overboard with the chocolate.

He swiped his credit card, picking up his bag of sugary treats.

“Your laces,” Olivia noted, looking down at his sneakers. “Y’all from the Hidden Creek town?”

“Oh, what?” Rhys looked down at his rainbow laces. “I was there, just now. Visiting.” It was as close to the truth he could get without explaining his whole life story.

“I read this Facebook post about LGBT businesses in that town. Sounds like a great place,” Olivia explained, perking up.

“Yeah, it really is,” Rhys noted, thinking back to his time in the town.

He was brought out of his reverie by a polite cough behind him.

He turned around.

The line.

It wasn’t getting smaller with him standing there.

“Right, sorry,” Rhys apologized, the big trucker politely nodding at him. “Have a good day, miss.” He smiled once again at Olivia, heading to the exit. Walking past the long line.

He was near the exit when the businessman from outside burst through, almost knocking into Rhys.

“Whoa, you okay?” Rhys asked. The businessman ignored him, instead dashing past the line of people waiting, heading right for the counter and slamming down his credit card in front of the trucker, who had barely made it to Olivia.

“Pump number six,” the businessman demanded.

Rhys gaped in awkward horror, hearing the chorus of sighs from the people waiting. He wanted to believe no one could be that self-centered. But life experience told him otherwise.

“Oh, er…” Olivia began to stammer. “There’s a line of—”

“It’s just the one tank. Let’s go,” the businessman demanded.

Rhys sighed, looking at his bag full of sugary treats and then back up at the line of people. The trucker was staring at the back of the businessman’s head so hard Rhys was amazed his gelled hair didn’t catch on fire.

“Well, I can’t really—” Olivia began, but the businessman talked over her.

“What part of this simple request don’t you understand?” he snipped.

“Oh my god, do you know what a line is!?”

The entire store went quiet as everyone in the building turned to look at Rhys.

He took a step forward, feeling bold for once in his life. There was no going back now.

“Look, buddy,” the businessman spat out. “It’s just the one tank. I’ve gotta—”

“It’s a simple question.” Rhys clung to the grocery bag for dear life, his knuckles turning white. He was calling someone out. In public. He thought his heart might beat out of his chest. “Do you know what a line is?”

“Yeah, we’re all waiting here, buddy,” the trucker chimed in. “What makes you so special?”

“It’s just the one tank,” the businessman protested.

“Customers in line get priority.” Olivia informed him, seemingly finding her voice. She folded her arms, looking up at him. “Unless it’s an emergency. Is this an emergency?”

“Well…” The businessman trailed off.

Rhys smirked. He knew there was no way he could weasel his way out of this.

“Y’all are next, right, sir?” Olivia asked, looking at the trucker.

“That I am, ma’am,” the trucker replied, barreling past the businessman.

He looked around as if someone else might speak up for him. When no one did, he made his way to the back of the line, and Rhys headed out the door.

He slid in behind the wheel of his Impala, grinning from ear to ear.

Before Hidden Creek, no way would he have been brave enough to stand up to a bully like that. He hadn’t even stood up for himself with his bad Grindr dates.

Rhys pulled off, not even opening any of his sugary treats in the grocery bag next to him. He didn’t need them.

But he was still hungry, having hardly touched his breakfast that morning. Rhys looked out at his surroundings, noticing a diner just down the road.

Maybe greasy food would help sustain his good mood.

Rhys figured it couldn’t hurt as he parked his Impala.