Chapter 25

Heather evidently hadn’t brought any treats, but that didn’t stop Henry from walking into Monday morning coffee practically whistling.

“There he is!” Paul said, toasting his mug to Henry as he took a seat in one of the tiny desks next to Paul and in front of Heather. “The legend himself! You wouldn’t believe how often you came up in the locker room on Friday, big guy.”

Henry gave Paul a look that said he was used to it. “Hey, with a body like this,” he said, gesturing at his mid-30s physique, “I can’t expect people not to talk. Just no touching,” he said with a smirk and a wag of his finger.

Paul laughed while Henry poured some of the proffered coffee into his Oh Yes Wyoming! mug. Heather didn’t seem as amused, but Henry didn’t give it much notice.

“So, slugger, what’s the story? You two dating? Or you just hang out when you have bus duty?” Paul said.

“Slugger?”

Paul shrugged. “I’m runnin’ outta nicknames. ‘Champ?’ Is that better?”

Henry considered thoughtfully, as if he were a connoisseur — tasting it — then gave a slow nod of approval.

“Okay then, champ, I didn’t even know you guys were still seeing each other.” Paul took a sip of his coffee, asking the question again. “So what’s the deal?”

“Umm...” Henry wasn’t actually sure what he and Cameron were, which was why he’d been stalling for time. But there really wasn’t a better word for what they were doing. “I guess we sort of are, yeah. We’re just kinda ... feelin’ it out.” He sipped from his own mug while Paul and Heather exchanged one of their glances. Henry groaned inside.

They don’t trust me with anything, do they. Then he stopped himself. Well ... if they knew what happened with Mallory, they’d probably feel pretty vindicated about that, huh. Fine. Point taken.

“Sure, that sounds like you,” Paul said, deadpan. “All your friends, we call you ‘Mr. Go-With-The-Flow.’ Because of how chill you are about these kinds of things.”

Heather nodded in agreement. “That’s right. I wanted Mr. Chill, but that was too close to Mr. Freeze and we didn’t wanna get sued.” She gave a weak smile, almost like she felt obligated to make some dumb joke but wasn’t really feeling it.

They paused for a second and Henry thought maybe the conversation was moving on ... but then Heather had more to say.

“So ... it’s not really anything, like, serious. You’re just—”

Paul finished her sentence for her. “Going with the flow. Like you do.”

Heather nodded her agreement. “Yeah.” She sounded like she was trying to reassure herself rather than asking a real question of Henry.

Henry tilted his head back and forth, not really sure of the answer to that, either.

What does “serious” actually mean? Like, do hospital visits count as serious?

“Well ... I ... had dinner with her, umm — like her grandma, I guess, last night. Not really her grandma, but she raised her.”

Heather and Paul gave each other another look, longer this time, and Paul didn’t seem as amused anymore.

“What?” Henry said, a little miffed at how his friends were treating him.

They’re looking at me like I just casually told them I was shooting up heroin or something. What is their problem?

They both shifted uncomfortably in their seats, like they didn’t know which one should go first.

“Stop doing that, geez,” Henry snapped. “Not gonna lie, guys, I kinda thought you’d be like ... I dunno, happier for me. I’m happy. It went really well, by the way, not that either of you asked.” He took another sip.

He probably wasn’t as pissed off as he sounded, he was just confused why they were being so weird about this. He’d done exactly what they wanted him to do, and here he was, feeling good about it.

And then they keep doing that look between each other that they do when they think I’m about to go off the deep end.

“Hey, no, bro, that’ s good, that’s good, really,” Paul said, conciliatory.

Then Heather took over. “It’s just ... don’t you think that’s moving kinda fast?”

Henry wasn’t actually going to dispute that. It was kind of fast. But ... whatever he and Cameron had going on, it wasn’t exactly following a traditional roadmap. So, who was to say what order things had to happen in?

“I’m sure she’s cool, really,” Heather said, her hands raised defensively. She didn’t really seem that sure at all, though, from what Henry could tell. “But ... Andrew ... you’re 36 years old. She’s, what, 25?”

He thought that was supposed to be rhetorical, but Heather left it hanging for him to confirm or deny. “Twenty-three,” he mumbled.

Heather pursed her lips. “Yeah. Twenty-three. And you ... you basically met her parents already after ... like a couple weeks or something?” She looked concerned that Henry wasn’t going to listen to her.

Gee, I wonder why.

Paul spoke up before Henry could really say anything in response. “Can I ask you something?” he said, sitting up in the fourth-grade desk he was stuffed into. He’d been a little more sympathetic, so Henry nodded, figuring maybe he was gonna be the good cop here.

“What do you guys do when you hang out?” Paul said. As much as Henry wanted to read into it, there wasn’t any accusation in the question. He sounded genuinely curious. That made it hard to get upset about.

Then why am I getting upset?

He knew why, of course: They were asking all the questions he’d already asked himself. And he hadn’t ever actually come up with the answers.

“What do you mean, ‘what do we do when we hang out’ — what do we do when we hang out?” Henry said, gesturing to the three of them without trying to keep the resentment from his tone.

Paul shrugged. “We play boardgames, we go see movies sometimes. We’ve got the staff softball team in the spring—”

Henry held up a hand. “Okay, geez, I get it,” he said. “Fine, Paul — I’ll date you.”

Heather didn’t seem amused, but Paul laughed.

“I mean, you get what I’m saying though, right, man? Hey, hey, don’t get me wrong,” Paul continued, cautioning with his hand, “I’m the one who told you to get out there and explore the universe of pussy, I know I did. And that’s good, man! I’m really glad you found somebody.” Henry could tell a major “but” was incoming. “But ... maybe, you know, maybe just be careful with how quickly you ... like...” He looked extremely uncomfortable, trying to figure out the right word, and eventually just let it drop.

Heather picked it up. “Andrew,” she said in a low tone, like she was trying to level with him about a secret. She was fiddling with her coffee cup, clearly just as uncomfortable as Paul ... and yet, continuing anyway. “You ... you seem like you’re really putting a lot into this, is all.” She looked up to his eyes now. “How many dates have you even been on? Not counting, you know, the dinner with her grandma.” Heather either wasn’t as good at keeping the accusation out of her voice as Paul was, or she wasn’t even trying.