Mitch's P.O.V.
Before I went home, I decided that it would be best to clean up first, so I pulled into a gas station parking lot and got out, taking my purse with me.
The station looked to be awfully run down, and it didn't smell all that great, but it would have to do for now. The man behind the counter looked like he hadn't bathed in weeks, with long, ratty hair covered with a dirty baseball cap. He eyed me carefully, making me feel uncomfortable.
I almost ran into the bathroom, slamming the door behind me, and I clicked the lock into place.
And I thought the rest of the station was bad. This was so much worse. It was grimy, the tiles covered with a moldy slime, and it smelled like they had released ten skunks in here.
Eager to leave, I unzipped my bag and looked into the mirror. What I saw was a mess.
My eyes were puffy and red from crying so much, which made my face look swollen. But that was the least of my worries.
The spot where Troye had hit me was split open a bit, and was bruised all around the area. Great, this is going to be a pain in the ass to try and cover up.
I got to work right away. I worked any every act of makeup magic I knew, and by the time I was finished, I probably had twenty different tubes, bottles, and brushes out on the counter. But, on the bright side, my face looked a lot better.
You couldn't even tell that anything had happened unless you looked close enough to see the place where my cheek was split open. Scott wouldn't look that close, I told myself. Hopefully he would be distracted enough that I could just slip into my room for a little while.
I hummed some showtunes while I cleaned everything up. I had to admit, it made me feel a lot better. Once I had everything gathered, I zipped up my bag and unlocked the bathroom door.
I was surprised to see the manager standing there, waiting for me. Up close, he was that much more disgusting. I don't even think he owned a toothbrush. The only clean thing about him was a shiny silver cross pendant hanging from his neck.
"I'm sorry, was I being too loud?" I asked, worried that my humming had disturbed him.
He shook his head.
"Then I don't understand what's wrong."
"Don't come back here," the man growled.
"Excuse me?" I was surprised at his blunt rudeness, as I hadn't done anything wrong.
"We don't take kindly to your kind in here. Don't come back!"
My eyes widened. "What do you mean, my kind?"
"Fags. That's all you gays are. You're a fag, and I ain't gonna accept it around here. So leave and don't ever come back. You or any other of your gay friends."
I couldn't believe that this man I didn't even know could be so rude to me. But I had dealt with it my whole life. People calling me things because I was gay. I couldn't do anything to fight it. I was defenseless.
Fighting back tears, I ran out of the gas station and into my car. With bleary eyes, I sped out of the parking lot, tires screeching.
Scott's P.O.V.
I had finally gotten Mitch off of my mind when I heard his car in the driveway. I stashed the ice cream back in the freezer and switched the T.V. off just as Mitch walked in the door.
He softly shut the door, as if he were trying to sneak in. Weird.
"What the heck are you doing?"
He jumped at the sound of my voice. I guess he hadn't realized I was standing there.
"Jeez Scotty! Don't scare me like that!"
"It's not my fault you're a scaredy cat. Sorry your date got cancelled." Definitely not sorry.
"It's fine."
His tone was final, like he was trying I end the conversation. Something was off about him. I didn't like it, whatever it was.
"What's wrong Michelle?"
"Nothing, nothing. Just tired I guess. I'm going to go lay down for a little while."
"Can I come with you?" Why did I say that? Stupid, stupid, stupid.
He gave me a weird look. "Come with me to take a nap?"
"I...uh...just meant that...you seem upset. I was wondering of you wanted to talk about it."
He shook his head and quickly walked to his bedroom. "I'm good. Just eat dinner without me. Night Scott."
"I don't think you can really call it night! It's only 4 o'clock!" But he had already closed his door.
Keeping my distance from Mitch wouldn't be as hard as I thought. He seemed to be distancing himself from me.
I bet it was because I kept doing and saying weird things around him. I was just trying to hide my feelings for him and keep from creeping him out, but I guess it wasn't working.
Don't worry Mitch, I thought. I'll be out of your hair soon. It'll be better that way. I promise.