The next morning, I was up at the same time as Sollux for once.
He blinked at me, his question actually sounding something other than cold for the first time since the incident. "I thought your shifts started at ten."
I shrugged, averting my eyes from his gaze. "I found a better job and quit my Wal-Mart one."
"Good for you." The disinterested tone was back. I sighed; I had no idea how I was ever going to overcome this barrier that had been growing between us with every squabble. Hopefully, I would soon get my damned emotions under check so I could figure his whole mess out.
I left soon after Sollux had disappeared into the office to work on whatever programming project he was assigned. A twinge of envy flashed through me. Way back when, I had longed to belong in the world of coding and programming that Sollux belonged in. Having no talent for it, however, I had soon given up on that dream.
I arrived at the sweet shop ten minutes before I was actually supposed to be there.
"Hello, and welcome to the Harlequin Sweet Shoppe!" chirped a voice as I walked in. "Oh, Karkat! You're early! I wasn't expecting you for another five minutes."
I am not proud to say that my jaw literally dropped open when I saw John. Gone was the dorky awkward teenager that I was accustomed to in high school. In his place was an almost completely different person. In the several years that I hadn't seen him, he had sprouted several feet, now towering over me by what must have been at least a foot. The braces were gone, revealing gleaming white teeth that stood out against his sun-darkened skin. He had packed on a lot of lean muscle-he must've continued swimming after high school. The only things similar to the John Egbert I had known were the familiar buck teeth still present in his smile and the dark brown hair that still stuck up in unexpected places.
I quickly shut my mouth, and trying not to stare, looked around the cozy shop. "Uh... Hi?"
Oblivious as ever, John didn't notice my open-mouthed surprise to his magical transformation, or my slight discomfort with it. "I'm glad Rose sent you over to help me out! I mean, my cousin Jane used to help me out, but now that she's married, she doesn't really have time. I've been looking for a helper for a really long time too. I just haven't found anyone yet." He shrugged. "Oh well. Now you're here, so I don't have to worry about that anymore!" I guess another thing hadn't changed about John; he still never shut up. "I suppose you're surprised that I'm running a sweet shop, huh? You know, in high school I was boycotting them. Well, Jane got me into baking, and it was actually quite fun, as long as I don't actually have to eat them! So now I have this shop, and we sell cupcakes and cookies and fudge and just regular candy as well. I also make cakes to order, but I don't prebake them because they get stale too quickly, and I just hate having them sit around! But you don't have to worry about that!" he told me, laughing. "I'll just have you clean the floor and counters and stuff, and man the cashiers while I bake. I'll try not to keep you too late in the evenings." He walked out from behind the counter, holding out a key. "Here's a spare key to the place. Wouldn't want you getting locked out or something, would we?"
Throughout this entire monologue, I had been standing dumbstruck, staring at him. It took me a few moments to realize he was trying to give me something. I pocketed the key, swallowing. "What should I do first?"
"I'll have you work the cashier for any customers; since I need to bake another batch or snicker doodles." He sighed dramatically. "We always seem to run out by noon. Well, if you need help with anything, just ask! I'll be in the kitchen."
I had only stood behind the cashier for ten minutes before I started to get bored. Grabbing a broom, I idly started to sweep the floor, figuring that it was too early in the morning for customers anyway. So I wasn't expecting the bell attached to the door to tinkle merrily thirty minutes later, announcing someone's entrance to the shop. I quickly moved behind the cashier once more, not wanting to be caught off guards.
A guy that looked maybe a year older than me walked up close to the counter to lean against it lazily, face expressionless and eyes concealed by a pair of huge aviators. "I don't know who the hell you are," he drawled in a Texan accent, "but I'm looking for someone by the name of John Egbert."
John bustled out of the kitchen, wearing a powder blue apron and brushing sugar and cinnamon off of his hands. "Dave! What's up bro? I assume you want the usual?"
As Dave nodded nonchalantly, I looked between them, trying to decipher what type of relationship they had. Having watched so many romcoms in my life, I was usually pretty good at this, but Dave was a tough nut to crack. There was nothing about his expression that I could read whatsoever. Frustrated, I examined his other features. His hair was pale blond and smooth, waving only slightly at the ends of the strands and at his bangs. He was around the same height as John, but less muscular, though it was hard to tell from the baggy red sweatshirt he was wearing. A pair of headphones was around his neck: white with a red gear on the earpiece. I frowned. The only thing I could gather from his appearance was that he liked to hide his emotions and that he was unusually good at it.
John was fitting a sixth chocolate donut into a box, shutting the lid and handing it to Dave. "Here you go! Are we still good for next Saturday?"
"If you want. I still have nothing going on."
"Good! I'll see you tomorrow then."
I watched John watch Dave walk out of the shop, a small wave of curiosity rising up in me. "What's next Saturday?"
"Oh, we're just going out to eat."
"I never pictured you as gay," I commented, smirking as a flush rose in john's cheeks.
"I am not a homosexual!"
"Whatever," I muttered, sitting on a stool. John, clearly embarrassed from my light teasing, retreated back I into the kitchen. Soon the smell of baking cookies filled the air.
The rest of that day, and the rest of the days between then and Saturday, fell into a steady routine. I can't say I minded parts of it; it was nice to have a set work schedule for example. Every morning between nine thirty and ten thirty in the morning, Dave would enter the shop and buy six Chocolate donuts. We had established a sort of friendly banter, with John jumping in every once in a while with a somewhat witty comment. I would then run the cashier for the other customers, leaving the shop at around five thirty, depending on how busy the work day was. Other parts of the routine were not quite so pleasant. Every day I would come home from work and fix dinner, setting a place for Sollux even though he rarely ate with me, and then become used to the feeling of being given the cold shoulder by someone who used to be your best friend, the friend who you'd tell your problems and go out to eat with. I would give anything, anything to say that this treatment from Sollux didn't bother me, but that would be lying through my teeth. Honestly, I missed the friend I had had. And the worst part was that I had no idea how to get him back.
I preferred to shove these depressing thoughts out of my head, focusing instead on strengthening my friendships with Dave and John. Now that I knew him better, I could recognize the small changes in expressions that betrayed what Dave was actually thinking. He was a lot less stuck up than I had originally thought too, with a wicked sense of humor that was sometimes just plain weird. I was extremely happy with my new job, and looking back, glad that the circumstances leading up to it had taken place.
Saturday morning, I woke up in a good mood, smiling to myself as I stared up at the ceiling. As I got out of bed, I tried not to notice the empty spot in the bed beside me, refusing to let Sollux ruin my good mood.
I took a lengthy shower, as I had woken before my alarm clock due to the bright September sunlight streaming through the windows. Changing, I glanced in the mirror at myself, pausing in pulling my shirt over my head.
This was the first time that I had really looked in the mirror since Terezi and I had broken up. I could see my ribs poking through my skin, though there was no doubt those were a lot less noticeable then they were around a month ago before Sollux visited for the first time. My dark brown hair was scruffy and stuck up everywhere, completely covering my ears and hanging across my eyes. Luckily, it didn't look terrible, so I could put off having a haircut until tomorrow since I had the day off. I didn't mind the way my body was slowly recovering from my three year stay in Hotel Depression though. To me, it was a reminder that no matter what happened; I couldn't recede into a shell. I couldn't mentally run away from the issue. I had tried it, and I had failed miserably.
I pulled on my jeans and a nicer button-down shirt, decided to actually looked like I tried that morning. Leaving the bathroom, I grabbed a banana from the kitchen and my scruffy backpack with all the things I needed for the day as I headed to the door, intending to walk to work.
The work day was especially dull. Dave didn't come in that morning, as he was coming to pick John up for dinner that evening. I skipped my lunch to help John with some baking, but managed to pilfer some donuts from the display case, slipping money into the cash register. Yet, even though the day was uneventful, all too soon it was closing time, and Dave had just called John to let him know that he was on his way.
I was wiping down the counters when John emerged from his precious kitchen, where he had been preparing a birthday cake for some little kid. "You can go home early if you want; I'll lock up tonight."
Hesitating, I thought about what awaited me at home. Sollux would probably stay out all night again. I would try waiting up for him, but eventually fall asleep at around four in the morning. If it was a weeknight, I would only get two hours of sleep. "Nah," I replied. "I can lock up. You and Dave have fun tonight."
"It really is no trouble," John insisted.
I sighed, admitting, "I just really don't want to go home."
John blinked at me for a few moments, clearly taken aback. "Why?"
"It's nothing. I'm just..." I exhaled softly, tossing the rag into the kitchen sink. "I'm just in an argument with my housemate right now."
"...Do you want to talk about it?" he asked after watching me for a few moments.
"No, I'm fine." I grabbed my backpack, slinging it across my back. "Are you sure you want to lock up?"
John didn't reply for a minute, watching me. "You could always come to dinner with Dave and me," he offered, shrugging. "I mean, I get what it's like to argue with someone you're sharing space with. In college, my roommate and I were fighting over some girl. He had to switch rooms, he was so sick of me."
"I can't just freaking intrude on your guys' plans."
"Dave won't mind. And I'm not about to send you home."
I grimaced at him gratefully, muttering a quiet "thanks", and helped him lock up the shop. We waited for Dave outside, the conversation moving to much happier topics as we laughed and joked around. Dave pulled up five minutes later in an old red convertible with only two seats.
John waved happily at him. "Hey, Dave! Karkat is going to come to dinner with us, okay?"
"It's fine with me, but I only have one open seat in my car."
"I can drive my own car," John told him, jangling his car keys.
Dave nodded, and I got in the passenger seat of the convertible, fastening the seat belt. "Nice car you've got here."
"My bro got it for me on my twentieth birthday." Smirking slightly, he tapped the steering wheel with his fingertips. "This car is my baby."
I raised my eyebrows at him, managing to keep a straight face as I replied. "I hope you fill her up with gas often, otherwise I don't see it as a very healthy relationship."
Chuckling, Dave started up the ignition with a satisfying roar of the engine. "So is there any particular reason you're joining us tonight, or did John just drag you along?"
"Actually, there is a reason, but I don't think it's any of your business."
"I think it is my business, seeing as I wasn't expecting a third person to join."
"I think you should learn to fucking deal with it."
"I think that you're probably still fighting with Sollux."
I flushed, already regretting having confided in Dave a couple days ago about the situation between me and my housemate. "I think you should shut your damn mouth."
He glanced over at me briefly, an eyebrow visibly quirked over his sunglasses. "Seems like I've hit a nerve. Tell me, is he still giving you the cold shoulder?"
Glaring out at the passing stores, I didn't answer for a couple minutes. "Yes," I admitted, sighing. "I just wish I knew what to do about it."
"Well, if you ask me, you and John have the same attitude here."
"Which is?"
"You two are both outrageously gay, and are both denying it heatedly."
"What!? I'm not gay!"
"Exactly my point." He stopped at a red light, looking over at me. "You're like a dog who tries to convince everyone that he's a cat. He almost manages to convince everyone, but then he sees himself in a mirror one day and finds out that he's actually a bird."
"That has to be the shittiest metaphor that I've ever heard," I snapped. "How is that even relevant?"
"My metaphors are fucking boss. You do not mess with the metaphors."
I shook my head in disbelief. "Whatever. The light's green."
Dave returned his gaze to the road. "Think about it. Have you kissed him?"
"... Yes..."
"Did you enjoy it?"
I didn't respond, looking away. To be honest, I hadn't thought about those times when we had kissed at all, stubbornly squashing down the confusing turmoil of emotions that broiled up inside of me every time it crossed my mind accidentally. Had I enjoyed it? I wasn't sure. I remained silent for the rest of the car ride, attempting to figure it out.
Dave pulled into the parking lot of the bar. We had beaten John there somehow. "Karkat, look at me."
I did as he told me, not expecting what I saw. Dave had taken off his sunglasses to clean them on his shirt. I had never seen his eyes before: bright crimson with flecks of burnt gold around the edges. My mind had frozen, caught in the intensity of his gaze, even though he wasn't looking directly at me. They were beautiful; I had no idea why he kept them hidden behind sunglasses all the time.
Wait. Did I just think Dave's eyes were beautiful?
My mind jumped back into gear, whirring madly. What had just happened? Why did I think that? Did I think Dave was attractive? Was I actually gay?
Dave replaced his sunglasses, apparently not noticing what had just happened. "You should think it over during dinner. Try to figure it out." He unfastened his seatbelt, getting out of the convertible. "C'mon. We should probably go get a table before they all fill up."
