Collide by Megan Hart

black coat. I took a drink from my coffee and eyed Carlos. “Jen says he was nice to you.”
    “Maybe because he knows I don’t want to fuck him. Or even if I did, it’s not the same as being in love with him because of some stuff from a long time ago.”
    “Why not?” I knew Johnny’d had some sexual fluidity in his past, but had never claimed to be gay or even bisexual. He’d called himself “straight but openminded” in more than one interview.
    “Who knows, maybe he doesn’t find dudes as threatening, in general. Maybe we’re easier to put off. Or maybe he was just in a good mood that day. I don’t know.”
    Carlos’s assessment, as close as it was to truth, stung. “I never said I was in love with him. Besides, last week I bumped into him outside his house and he invited me in for tea.”
    “Tea? Get out of here.” Carlos flapped a hand, scoffing.
    “I’m serious.” I hadn’t slipped a paper liner on my cup, and my hand was starting to burn. I switched, almost crushing my muffin in the process. “I sat in his kitchen and drank his tea, and today he can’t even say hello? That’s just…well, that’s douchy, that’s all.”
    Carlos shrugged, looking back toward his laptop. “Man’s got issues, what can I say? If it makes you feel any better, it’s not just you.”
    That made me feel worse. I didn’t want to be treated the same way Johnny treated everyone else. I wanted to be…special.
    “Later,” Carlos called after me, though I’d moved away without saying goodbye. “Don’t let it get to you, Emm!”
    But I was. My coffee tasted bitter without the extra sugar and cream I normally added but had forgotten. My muffin, when I looked into the brown paper bag, had crumbled into bits. And I was late for work.
    “All I said was hi,” I grumbled under my breath.
    I thought about it all day long as I sat at my computer, entering data into spreadsheets, answering calls and emails. Putting out fires. Probably starting a few, too; I was too distracted to notice.
    I’d ended up in banking by accident. I’d gone to Lebanon Valley College in my hometown so I could live at home and walk to school if I had to. Annville’s a tiny town bordered to the north and south with farms but blending east and west into the towns next to it. I was limited in my job choices within walking distance of my parents’ house. Pizza shop, gas station, movie theater…bank. The bank had the best hours, pay and benefits, and I didn’t have to rely on my parents to give me a ride. I’d worked there all throughout college and then after when my inability to drive limited me even more severely.
    After a few years I’d advanced to bank manager. I liked my work. I liked numbers. I liked my new job, working for the Pennsylvania State Employee’s Credit Union, even better.
    But not today.
    Today I counted the minutes until I could go home and check the mail to see if my DVD of Night of a Hundred Moons had arrived. Unfortunately, the mailbox was empty yet again. My stomach sank like the Lusitania. I actually checked twice, as though a package could possibly be hiding in the shallow box somewhere out of sight. Then, disappointed, I let myself into my dark and chilly house.
    I didn’t even have any calls on my answering machine, not that I ever had many. Most people who wanted to get in touch with me rang my cell if they tried at home and didn’t reach me. Apparently, today I wasn’t even popular enough for that.
    I took a long, hot shower, head bent to let the steaming water pound down on my shoulders and back. Tension had twisted my muscles. I needed strong hands to unkink the knots. Sadly, unless I wanted to pay for it, I was out of luck. My skinned knees stung as I ran a razor over them.
    So of course I was thinking about Johnny again.
    What the hell was his problem? Okay, so I understood that it might be annoying to have random strangers compliment him on his cock. Even if he wasn’t ashamed of his art movie past, it