TAMPONS | PHAN

nine; july

j u l y;

After an abnormally warm June came the hottest July on record. The grass wasn't the only thing that was dry – finding a job was proving to be more and more difficult for Dan's Dad. He went to interview after interview only to return home disgruntled. Dan tried to help out best he can, he took up a paper route after school was let out and spent his mornings walking the blistering streets throwing papers at different doors.

"Is everything alright with you and Mitch? I haven't seen him in ages, and you haven't been there either. You two didn't even do anything for your birthday," commented Dan's Dad one night as they settled down to their regular dinner of pasta – noodles were cheap.

Dan shrugged. His eighteenth birthday had passed by without much celebration due to the disagreements he had with both Mitch and Phil, and his relationship status with Kate. "I think they went to Florida for bit," answered Dan at last, fiddling with his plate of pasta – it was quickly becoming his least favourite meal.

"What about Phil?" asked his Dad. As much as Dan liked the genuine interest that his Dad took in his life, he wished that for once his Dad would mind his own business.

Dan shoveled a mouthful of pasta into his mouth before replying. The room was overly hot – due to the lack of air-conditioning – and their small fan was doing nothing to combat the heat although it was whizzing fiercely.

"I haven't seen him in a while. I haven't a reason to pass by the store," said Dan who had filled his Dad in on the circumstances of how they met.

"I thought you two were becoming more than acquaintances," said his Dad raising an eyebrow. Dan blushed, knowing what his father was implying. He was indicating the night that Phil had slept over and Dan's Dad had woken them up for breakfast to see Dan curled up in Phil's arms, sound asleep.

"I don't want to talk about it," said Dan twirling a fork around in his noodles. He had messed things up with Phil, and yet was too stubborn to fix things. Even though, every single bone in his body ached to be with Phil, he didn't want to face the shame of admitting he was wrong.

"If there was any indication you were gay, that would— "

"I said I don't want to talk about it!" snapped Dan throwing down his fork on top of his plate as he pushed back his chair and angrily stalked from the kitchen, leaving his father in stunned silence.

Dan flopped on his bed feeling horribly sorry for himself. He felt guilty for the way he had treated his father, but this hadn't been the way his summer was supposed to happen. It was his last summer of freedom – before university and life got in the way – yet it was filed with nothing but sorrow after sorrow.

--

Dan could practically see tendrils of steam rising off the pavement as he walked along the – now – familiar paper route. The pay was meagre, but it was the only job Dan had managed to get, even after sending his resume to several shops around town. The yellowed grass crunched underneath his shoes as he walked up to place a paper down on 44 Hemwall Lane's doorstop. The lady who lived there – Miss. Neilson – had an acute sense of hearing when the paper hit against her door and would come out and lecture Dan on his disrespect towards his job and the neighbourhood.

He made his way along the route, sweating profusely. Two days into summer, he had ditched his usual attire – black t-shirt and black jeans – for a pair of shorts and a light grey t-shirt. It was far too hot to stick to aesthetics.

By the time Dan had finished his paper route, his shoulder was aching from hoisting the bag full of papers, he was sweating in all crevices of his body, and his throat was absent of all moisture due to the dust from the roads that had accumulated due to the lack of rainfall and would billow up each time a car would pass, coating Dan and tainting each breath of air he took.