Bullheaded

believe.
    “Kidding! I was kidding!” Cody bit his lip, maybe realizing his timing sucked. “I didn’t mean it.”
    Johnny didn’t bother to acknowledge the lame apology. “I’m a professional bullfighter. With luck and not too many injuries, I’ll be doing this for the next twenty—thirty years.”
    “Yeah, and you pay your own health insurance. And you earn peanuts. Sure, it’s a steady paycheck but if you rode bulls instead—”
    “A steady paycheck is what I need. I send money to my mother every month to help her out,” Johnny said.
    Cody seemed stunned and pissed. “I never asked you to account for your money. If you decide to stay the summer, I’ll pay you, same as we pay Travis and RJ.”
    Angrily, Johnny turned away. “Great, that’s even more like being a hooker. And then you’ll pull strings to get me into the finals. Don’t you get it?”
    “No, I don’t get it. If I pay you, you’ll work the same hours as they do and just as hard. I’ll see to that.”
    “And maybe I should move into the bunkhouse too, so no one thinks the boss is fucking me under the table.”
    “That can be arranged too,” Cody said coldly.
    “Thanks, but I’ve already got a job.” Johnny closed his bag and picked it up. He paused, struggling with how to say what he was feeling and then that dire sentence came out again. “I used to be happy to be around you.”
    “We can be happy again. I’ll do whatever you want. I’ll go to Chicago with you and carry your bags—”
    “I was going to hang out here another week but I don’t see the point. I’m going tonight. Now.” Despite his steady paycheck, Johnny really didn’t own much. With his bullfighting gear it added up to a duffle and one small suitcase.
    “Isn’t there anything I can say to make you change your mind?”
    Looking at Cody’s face, Johnny wanted to tell him, but another part of him resented that Cody could be that dense he wouldn’t know it on his own. “I don’t think so.”
    “You seem like you can’t wait to get out of here,” Cody snapped. “You’re going to regret this.”
    “I’ve got to go,” Johnny said. He hoisted his bag to his shoulder and picked up the suitcase. “I’m meeting Vern and Reese in Chicago. I don’t know. Maybe I’ll see you around the tour sometime.”
    “So that’s it? You’re leaving?” Cody’s voice sounded angry and Johnny didn’t want to turn to face him. “Just like that?”
    “Yes. I can’t stay here.”
    “You’re tearing us apart over nothing!”
    “It’s not nothing to me.”
    Johnny walked out and Cody followed him out into the sunlight. Johnny forced himself to look at Cody now, and it killed him to think he was walking away from this beautiful man. He had never thought he’d find love with a guy and never such a handsome one as Cody, and now he figured he had to be going nuts to do this. Cody stood there looking like a little boy whose puppy had just died. Gone was the mischievous look in his eyes and the wide, irrepressible grin. Sunlight glinted off his light-brown hair, almost gilding it against his tanned skin. A golden boy , Johnny thought. He was mine for a while.
    “Please be careful.”
    Whatever Johnny had expected Cody to say, it wasn’t that, especially when his voice almost broke and he sounded… as though he was going to cry. It reminded him of when Cody had told him about being brought home by the police and what his parents had said. And that hardened his resolve. Cody wasn’t his parent and that was partly why he was leaving. To get away from that feeling.
    “I will.”
    Johnny hadn’t asked for a ride into town. Without a vehicle he would hitch or walk, seeing he was on his own now. Under the anger, guilt started to gnaw on him for walking out without saying goodbye and thanks to Val and Davis, but that just hardened his fury. It was as though his age conspired against him so he was constantly having to thank people for giving him stuff he hadn’t yet managed to earn for himself.
    Once he reached Route 101, Johnny remembered he also hadn’t said goodbye to Travis or RJ either, and sighed. He had no bone to pick with them. When he got where he was going, he’d send them a postcard. Having a great time. Wish you were here. The thought almost made him laugh.
    The sound of an engine made him turn to face the road, and he stuck his thumb out. He almost turned around and started walking when he recognized Travis’s battered pickup, but resigned