16. The Internship

Hunter

Aweek into his summer internship in New York City, Hunter longed for Logan’s comforting presence. They’d text a good portion of the day and some nights video chatted on their webcams. Hunter moved into a furnished apartment with two other roommates from the same internship program. The office, only a few subway stops or a cab ride away, encouraged them to commute together.

Erin, a year older than Hunter and closest to him, had brains, beauty, and charisma. Her polished, dirty blonde hair, fitted suits, and firm handshake had the men at the office turning heads. An economics major at Oregon State, entering her senior year, she took both her internship and academic career seriously.

His other roommate, Neil, was a native New Yorker, and his father a senior partner at a Big Four accounting firm. He was on the thin side, had neat, tight curls at the top of his head, and you could tell he came from money because he was unimpressed by it. Neil was funny, sharp, and knew everything there was to know about New York. Hunter loved listening to his accent when Neil told a story.

Logan would love them. Hunter always felt out of place around brilliant people his age. He learned early on that people will assume you know more than you do if you just stay silent. He’d often wait until the end of a meeting to agree with the point someone else already mentioned, giving them credit, and elaborating on why it was such a great idea. It would win him a few points here and there. It also didn’t hurt that he was a 6’2, blond, handsome male with good posture.

Neil took his last bite of a chicken sub during lunch. “Hunter, we have to go to the gym sometime, man,” he said with a full mouth.

Hunter laughed, digging around his salad with his fork. “You say that every day. I’m going tonight. You coming?”

“Gym? On a Friday?” Erin winced. “A bunch of us are going to happy hour—you should come. Would be a good way to wrap up the end of our first week.”

“That’s right!” Neil said, likely using the new excuse to get out of working out. “Are you going tomorrow? I’ll go, even if you have to drag me by the neck. I swear, man.”

“I hear Lawrence Turner might be there,” she whispered, looking around the cafeteria as if Lawrence Turner would pop out of the shadows.

“Who’s that again?” Hunter asked.

“One of the VPs!” she emphasized. He wondered why a VP would attend a random happy hour with interns.

“I hear he’s a real prick,” Neil added, checking out a couple of women walking by. “My father golfed with him and The Big Bob last summer in Jersey somewhere. Says he’s running his division into the ground and his golf game sucked, too. But what does he know? My dad can’t golf to save his life.” Neil laughed out loud, never seeming to take himself, or anything, seriously.

Erin changed the subject. “You think we’ll get some actual projects to work on by Monday? This week was pretty slow.”

“You need to relax,” Neil said. “What I know is I’m done with this cafeteria food. We gotta get out of here. You see how there are no partners here? We need to go where they are.”

“Partners don’t eat,” Hunter said.

“They eat—just not when or where everyone else does.”

They cleared off their trays and waited for the elevator to take them back to the twenty-third floor.

“So, you’re coming to the happy hour later, right?” Erin asked Hunter.

“I’ll go,” he said. “Are you going, Neil?”

“Of course,” Neil said, as if asked the most ridiculous thing in the world. “I’ll meet you upstairs. I gotta take this call. Have some business to handle … Yo, where you at?” Neil hollered into his phone, drawing attention to himself.

As he walked away, Erin and Hunter looked at each other and laughed.

“Neil’s such a character,” she said, when entering the elevator.

Hunter’s phone buzzed in his pocket as they exited the elevator and a wide smile spread across his face. “Hey, Erin, I’ll meet you back at the office in a sec,” he said, beaming from ear to ear as he walked down the hallway to answer the call.

“Hey,” he whispered, mindful of his volume.

“Hey.” Logan’s voice rang like a melodic bell. “How was lunch?”

Hunter’s face warmed, amused at Logan’s effort to familiarize himself with his schedule. “Good. Heading back to the office now.”

“I figured I’d have a few minutes to catch you before you’re due back. Is this a good time?”

Although they would text every day, he hadn’t heard Logan’s voice for a few days. “Yeah, for sure.” Hunter paced the hallway, looking out the large window below at the busy city.

“Nice. Just wanted to say ‘hey’. I’m on a smoke break here at the shop.”

Hunter laughed. “Smoke break? You don’t smoke.”

“I told Mr. Morris that if one guy gets a smoke break, we all get smoke breaks. Why should I have to work more hours than someone with a nasty habit?”

“You’re funny, man. Try not to get fired.”

“I can’t get fired. I’m the shift manager. Who else is going to tell these high schoolers when to clock in and out and how many hours a day add up to twenty hours in a week?”

“Uh huh, you’re very important.”

“I miss you,” Logan blurted.

The words weighed heavily on Hunter causing him to let out an inaudible sigh. “I know, I miss you, too.”

“Send me a picture of you in your suit today.”

“Again? I sent you one on Monday.”

“I want to see if the corporate world has aged you and turned you into a raging alcoholic yet.”

“I hear that happens week three,” Hunter said, with a chuckle.

“I’ll be the judge of that,” Logan said. “Listen, I won’t keep you. Just wanted to hear your voice.”

“This is nice.” Despite his efforts to remain calm, his smile wilted, followed by a long pause. “This is hard.”

Logan let out a drawn-out exhale. “I know. Shit. Morris is coming. I’ll talk to you later. Bye, bud.”

Hunter leaned against the glass window and sighed. The past week felt like an entire month without Logan. He returned to his office and sat in his cubicle across from Erin’s.

“I left with two gentlemen and returned alone,” Erin jeered from her desk. “Was that your girlfriend back home? You looked happy.”

“I don’t have a girlfriend.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his mouth.

Suit pic, please. A text came in from Logan. Hunter shook his head and smiled. He propped up the phone to take a picture of himself at his desk in his suit. At that moment, Neil walked up behind him and bombed the photo—placing his head near Hunter’s and flashed a creepy smile.

“Classic—post it,” Neil said. “Hashtag BrosBeforeHoes.” Erin shushed him, warning him that he was being too loud. “Check this out,” Neil said cooly, ignoring Erin. He plopped his briefcase on Hunter’s desk and opened it casually, tilting it toward Hunter. Hunter glanced over to see a full ounce of weed in a sealed bag. “You blaze? This is some Pacific Northwest shit. Erin’s hood,” he said, closing his briefcase.

Hunter shook his head. “Uh, nah, I don’t.”

“You will tonight, bitch,” Neil said as if he were the coolest man in the world.

Hunter chuckled and sent the picture of him and Neil to Logan.

“Are you posting that? Tag me,” Neil said.

“Hashtag NeilRuinsEverything.”

“I’m deeply hurt, Mr. Richardson,” he said before walking to his cubicle a few rows over.

Logan

“Hi, sweetie, no work today?” Logan’s mom asked one summer evening in June.

“Nah. I’m working a double tomorrow—traded today,” Logan said, sprawled over the couch while glancing at his phone.

“You miss Hunter?”

The question was ridiculous. “No—yeah,” he admitted.

“It’s been a month, you’re a good amount of the way there.”

“It’s been three weeks and three days,” Logan corrected her.

“How is he doing?”

“He’s having fun—in a big city, with his new friends and fancy suit job. They go to exclusive happy hours, and clubs, and museums, and black-tie galas, and baseball games with box seats. But I know he’s faking it and would much rather be here with me, farting around and watching TV. Going to the same ol’ mall to see the same ol’ people.”

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re very important to him, and there is no place like home. Maybe you should go out this weekend? Call some friends—you’ve been cooped up inside on your days off.”

A text came through on his phone. Can you cam? His heart flipped in his chest. “Sorry, Mom, it’s Hunter, he wants to chat.” Logan got up eagerly and rushed up the stairs.

“Hey,” Logan said with a smile, feeling his cheeks warm when admiring his beautiful man’s face.

“Hey.” Hunter beamed back at him. “It’s great to see you.”

“You’ve been busy out there.”

“Sorry about that. It’s getting exhausting. You know I’m not the most social person in the world.” Hunter laughed. “I think you’d love it out here.”

“Yeah? Maybe,” Logan said, grateful to get to see him.

“Hey, so I wanted to talk to you about something,” Hunter started.

Logan felt the wind leave his lungs. “Great, what did you do?”

Hunter chuckled. “What? It’s nothing bad.” He looked distracted for a moment as he clicked around on his computer. “Here, give me a minute … now—check your email.”

“… Wow.” Logan read the email, and then again. “Gift card toward your next trip.”

“I want to see you. Come up here, it’s just a two-hour flight. Any weekend in July or August—but I’d rather see you sooner.”

Logan hesitated while thoughts raced through his mind. “Wow, thanks this is—nice,” he said, not as enthused as he meant to sound.

“What is it? What’s wrong?”

Logan thought about Hunter’s stories and how put-together everyone looked. He only owned one suit, and it was probably a bit small on him now. He’d stick out like a nose zit. “I’m not sure if I can get off, is all,” Logan lied.

“What? Call in sick. It’s one Friday or a Thursday, and Friday. Hell, stay all week if you can. I don’t care how long you stay, I just want to see you. I cleared it with the roommates, but we can probably get a hotel room while you’re here.”

The desperation in Hunter’s voice made Logan’s heart clench. “I want to see you, too.”

“Logan, if you can’t come up here then I’ll come home one weekend. But I think we’ll have more fun here.”

A forced laugh left Logan’s mouth, knowing that his sour mood would affect Hunter. “No, no, I can make it work. It’ll be a blast. I want to try the best pizza, and bagels, and hot dogs money can buy!” In order to spare Hunter’s feelings, he’d developed a habit of concealing his negative emotions.

“Promise you’ll look into it—and pick a weekend, any time.”

“I will, I promise.”

“I miss holding you,” Hunter said.

Logan sighed and swept away at shaggy hairs that fell in front of his eyes. “It’s been rough.” Although he craved to tell Hunter how he felt, he didn’t want the conversation to get too heavy. Hunter was from a different class of people, and now, in a different world that Logan would never fit into. “Are you headed to the gym soon?”

“I just got back—still have to shower. Otherwise, I have all night for you.”

“Let’s see the progress,” Logan said. Hunter didn’t hesitate to remove his shirt and flex his muscles for the camera. “Now, lose the shorts.”

After a lengthy video session from the desk to the shower and back to the bed, Hunter and Logan fell asleep on camera with one another, neither wanting the call to end.

Is it crazy that I miss you already?Logan woke up to that text the following morning, and the unfamiliar coldness of Hunter’s absence on his back. He got on his computer and looked up flights to New York—booking one for two weeks from that Thursday.

You won’t have to miss me much longer, Logan texted along with a screenshot of his flight information.