Trevor

Chapter 3-2

Trevor’s was knee deep in receipts and ledgers when his cell phone rang later that evening. His friend and club hopper buddy Sam’s photo showed up on his display. He’d made Sam’s ring tone “It’s Raining Men.” Trevor looked at the clock and realized yet again it was after seven P.M., and he was still working. He really needed to take a night or two a week to go upstairs and relax, get back to his drawing.

Sighing, he answered the phone. “Hey Sam! What’s going on?” Trevor was glad for the distraction. He’d spend the previous night and the whole day thinking about Jordan and the fact that he hadn’t done much lately other than work and sleep.

“We are all getting together to go to Escape tonight! Did you hear about the new hottie that owns the joint? O-M-G is all I can say; I mean the guy is hotter than hot and…”

“Okay, okay. Geez, slow down.” Trevor always laughed at Sam’s enthusiasm for life. He was a chatter box, a fidgeter, and all-around spaz at times, and he and the guys all loved him for it. It surprised most people that Sam ran the library at the local university with his not so quiet nature and zest for life. He had a rough go of it early in life, his heart left shattered with no direction, but Sam was a fighter, and with his help got through it. “To answer your question, I heard from Christian about him. He said…”

Sam’s shocked gasp interrupted Trevor’s story. “Christian told you about him? Did he go there yet? Did he meet the guy? Did he check the guy…?”

“Stop!” Trevor laughed into the phone. “Christian came in and he mentioned he ran into you, and you told him about the new bar owner at Escape. That is all.” Sam kept asking about Christian, what he was wearing and if he said anything else about him. Trevor wanted to hang up the phone, but Sam was Sam, so he dealt with it.

When he started to slow down Trevor interjected. “What time are you all meeting?” Knowing Sam, he was probably dressed and ready to go out whereas Trevor needed to get home, shower, change, and maybe even primp a little bit, thinking about the hottie bar owner. It wasn’t often newbies came to town and always intrigued him when they did. When you grow up in a small town where not much changed, anything new piqued your interest.

“At nine P.M.—Hold on, Mitchell is ringing, want me to conference him in?”

Trevor answered a quick no and said he would see him at Escape at nine P.M. He did not want to get into a long three-way conversation with Sam and Mitchell about hair products, what shoes they were wearing, and if they should wear a coat or not.

Trevor only had about an hour and a half to get ready, and it wouldn’t take nearly as long as that to do it, so he thought he would call Christian to see if he had the night off. It would throw Sam for a loop if he went, and would keep Sam on good behavior and not insisting that he dance all night.

But Christian said, “Thanks man, for the offer, but I don’t think I’ll be able to, I have an early morning tomorrow and…”

“Oh, come on, I won’t be staying out too long either and before you say it—it’s a gay friendly bar not a gay bar. Think about it and text me yes or no. I got to get ready.” Trevor broke the connection, expecting a text right away saying a huge no to going, but instead Christian said he would try and show up. This was progress.

Trevor could tell he had feelings for Sam, but Christian not being an out and proud gay was a problem, because Sam was that and so much more. He could imagine some of the guys in the firehouse giving him s**t over it. Some of them were real assholes. Christian had told him the stories on many occasions. They were always bitching about anyone that was different than them, putting others down. It was very clique-y at the firehouse. If you pissed one guy off, you pissed them all off. Christian was moving up the ranks and didn’t want any drama.

Trevor decided on a tight pair of blue jeans with a rip in the knee and hole in the pocket. He wore a striking blue T-shirt with a long-sleeved dress shirt over it, opened. He wore his Chucks sneakers because those were the most comfortable. He owned several pairs in different colors. He put on his deep blue colored glasses. Grinning to himself, he looked in the mirror quickly to make sure his hair was somewhat presentable and the bags under his eyes weren’t too noticeable. He was not a makeup kind of guy, but he did use some concealer on occasion.

This could actually be fun. He hadn’t been out in months, and it was nice to meet up with people. It felt like old times, when going out was a nightly thing. He grabbed his sketch pad, pencil, and messenger bag, and headed out. His thoughts flashed to Jordan for a moment. The two times he’d seen the guy he wasn’t without his guitar, just like he always carried around his messenger bag and sketch pad—it was part of who Trevor was and assumed it was the same for Jordan. I really have to stop obsessing over Jordan…okay maybe obsessing isn’t the word, but over-analyzing is definitely it.