Nate Reid never considered veganism until he meets Billy Lawson, a skinny, quiet kid who works at the local grocery store. With Billy’s help, Nate slowly learns what he can and cannot make during the beginning months of their relationship, until a family secret from Billy’s past threatens their bond.
Will their conflicting desires in the kitchen make an exciting partnership or will Billy’s refusal continue to isolate him? Nate searches through cookbooks, his best friend Marlee’s advice, and his favourite novels from his college years in order to find answers for both of their futures.
Nate steps ahead in line and, though begrudgingly, pays attention to the little voice in his head that tells him to move down towards the chicken. As he waits, he spots the other worker. A tall kid, though his height and skinny frame make him seem a lot younger than he probably is. His name tag hangs down below his apron, off one of its hooks. His hair net holds back some dark blonde hair, mostly light brown, like the kind Marlee had before she started to dye it back to her youthful golden locks. His apron is still cleanly white even as he packages some ground beef into patties before his co-worker calls him to the front. Another couple of middle aged men step behind Nate into the line-up. The lunch hour rush, in full swing.
When the other worker glances up at Nate, it’s through thick framed glasses.
“Can I help whose next?”
Nate steps forward. He gives the younger guy his order, watching carefully as he peels back some of the slices of chicken, weighs them, and then goes back to grab a couple more to add to the scale.
“Better slightly over than under,” the worker replies.
“Thanks. That’s a good motto.” Nate takes the sandwich from the worker’s hand after he has perfected the weight, their fingers touching. Though it is only through gloves, Nate can feel the distinct joints of the other man’s fingers and the heat of his hand.
“I wouldn’t exactly say it’s something to live by,” the worker jokes with a slight roll of his eye. “Is there anything else I can get you?”
Nate tells him another order for a ham sandwich, even though his sisters would be upset with him. He watches the worker as he moves around to the other side of the counter. He hunches a little more, his fingers touching the black forest ham with a hesitant and almost unwilling touch. As he weighs the meat, his eyes scan back over to Nate.
“Your nametag,” Nate says, pointing. “It’s about to fall off. You should fix it.”
“Ah, thank you. That would be quite unsanitary,” the worker says. He leaves the meat on the scale as he struggles to fix the nametag with his gloved hands. The name Billy, stylized in all capitals, appears.
“Nice to meet you, Billy,” Nate says.
Billy looks at him with raised eyebrows and tight lips. Though he has flipped his nametag up for visibility, the pin is having a hard time connecting through the fabric.
“Was that a bad pun -- meet as in meat?” Billy points to the deli arrangement around him. Nate laughs a little too hard.
“No, it wasn’t. Trust me. I’m good with bad puns but I usually know when I make them.”
“Oh. The accidental puns are always so much better, then.”
Nate smiles, not sure if he’s being flirted with. Billy’s attention wanes off of him temporarily, as the other worker asks him to hurry up as he struggles with his nametag.
“Are you not allowed to take the gloves off?” Nate asks. “I’d help if I could.”
“I don’t exactly want to.”
“Ah. Kosher?”
“No, vegan. I don’t really want to touch the meat, and I don’t know how much you exactly want me to get my hands on it either.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Nate says coyly.
Billy tilts his head to the side in a questioning glance.
Yes, Nate thinks as he nods. That was definitely a bad pun. Billy smiles again, a small half-grin from the side of his mouth. It seems to be his standard gesture of approval, so Nate nods again. Marlee -- and even Adriana -- have always told Nate that he needs someone to understand his particular brand of corny humor.
Billy suddenly slides the pin into place and lets out a sigh of relief.
“Finally!” he exclaims and raises his hand in a bit of a cheer.
“Good job.”
Billy packages his meat on the scale and then asks him, once again, if there is anything else.
“When is your break? I think I would like to eat lunch with you.”
“I already had my lunch,” Billy says. He looks back toward his other worker and the line that’s slowly dwindling. A mother with her two young kids are making the most noise, but the kinetic energy of the boys makes the line-up seem strong and overwhelming. The other worker, who Billy refers to as Jake, just shakes his head and waves his hand.
“Apparently I do have another chance,” Billy says, turning to Nate again.
“Great,” Nate says. He goes to extend his hand across the counter, taking the order from Billy. As their fingers touch again, he supposes this is a good enough time for an intro.
“I’m Nate, by the way.”
Billy taps his nametag. “I’ll see you outside in a bit.”
Nate smiles all the way to the check-out. As he exits the building, his sister’s best advice enters into his head: Don’t fuck it up with eagerness. Stay calm, stay cool, and try to not look like a dork.
