Page 37 of Our Own Light
“Ah, no one wants to see my ugly face on screen.”
Floyd couldn’t have held back his response if he’d tried. “You’re far from ugly, Ollie.”
His own cheeks instantly started to burn. It looked like Ollie’s were, too.
“Oh . . .” Ollie said. “Thank you.”
All of a sudden, Ollie was looking at Floyd like he ain’t never been complimented before—like he was touched and shocked and confused all at once—which made Floyd want to say something else nice to him. Or maybe he’d make sure to say a whole lot of those somethings to him over the course of their friendship. Because Floyd really wanted Ollie to like himself. Ollie was wonderful. Before Floyd’s brain could think of something else to say, Ollie was talking again. Like always.
“Well, you, too,” Ollie said. “You’re far from ugly, too.”
Just like that, Floyd’s entire body caught fire, burning hotter than hotter than a kiln, hotter than a blast furnace, heck, maybe even hotter than the sun. He couldn’t even make himself thank Ollie for the compliment. He was too busy trying not to melt.
“Or, uh, sorry,” Ollie said. “Was that not something I should have said for some reason?”
“It was a fine thing to say,” Floyd forced himself to say before stupidly adding, “I know I’m not ugly.”
Ollie sputtered a laugh. “Gee, Mister Modesty over here.”
And Floyd felt so thankful that Ollie had the sense to tease him about that.
“Yeah, sorry,” Floyd said, laughing, too.
At the same time, they both took sips of their moonshine. After, they sat in a comfortable silence for a while, watching the sunlight fade into darkness, and once the sky was awash with stars, Ollie set his tumbler down and walked to the stairs. After he cleared the porch, he looked up at the sky. Floyd soon followed.
“It’s incredible out here, isn’t it?” Ollie said.
“Did you not have stars in the city?”
“Did we not have them?” Ollie asked with a snort. “Of course we had them. We couldn’t always see them, that was the problem. Not like this, not the whole open sky. How do you think stars work, exactly?”
Floyd’s stomach churned. Ollie hadn’t never really insulted him before. As silly as it probably was, Floyd couldn’t help but wonder whether his fancy, supposed-to-be-running-a-whole-railroad, wealthy-as-sin friend honestly thought that little of him.
“You know what I meant,” Floyd sneered, crossing his arms over his chest. “I know how stars work.”
“Hey,” Ollie said, touching Floyd’s forearm. “I’m sorry.”
Ollie’s touch reignited that spark of yearning in Floyd’s heart—the one he had felt flare to life while he had been learning Ollie to shoot—and he tried to extinguish it by looking away. He wanted to be mad at Ollie for thinking he was less, not to be thinking of him in this romantic sort of way.
“I was only trying to be funny. I wasn’t...” Ollie squeezed Floyd’s arm. “Jesus Christ, Floyd, I like you. Of course, I wasn’t trying to insult you. I was teasing.”
As soon as Ollie said those three words—I like you—Floyd’s lingering upset vanished. He couldn’t force himself to stay mad no more. Slowly, Floyd let his eyes fall to where Ollie’s hand was resting—right near his own. He wanted so badly to hold it. Instead, he shifted his own hand the slightest bit, moving it in such a way that his pinky touched Ollie’s, but only barely.
Because the word “like” could mean all kinds of things.
Floyd braced himself for rejection. But Ollie shifted his hand closer, linking their pinkies together. And it was the tiniest, silliest, most wonderful thing.
They stood there like that—holding hands but not—for what felt like a long time.
“You lunkhead,” Ollie finally whispered. “I can’t believe you thought I was insulting you.”
Floyd couldn’t fight the smile. Gosh-darn-it, he liked Ollie so much. He liked how funny he was and how smart he was and how he could brighten a whole room with that big, sparkling personality of his.
As Floyd prepared to respond, the front door clattered open, and Floyd instinctively moved back a step, pushing Ollie away.
“Floyd, your daughter is asking for you to read her a bedtime story,” Effie called.
Oliver and Floyd locked eyes. After a moment, Ollie nodded, maybe like he was trying to remind Floyd to answer.