The Dead Saga (Novella Part 2): Odium Origins by Claire C. Riley

happily married and I’m more than happy with my long-term girlfriend Constance.
    I smile as I pass Helena’s desk, always determined to be polite and kind no matter what. Mamma always told me that they’ve won if they made you lower yourself to their standards. And I refuse to lower myself to her standards.
    I knock on Mr. Slewson’s door gently, pressing my pad nervously against my chest as I wait for him to reply. I know that I’ll be here for a minute or two. That’s just another one of his tricks: he likes to show his importance by keeping people waiting at his door for him.
    That, or like Mary said—he’s beating off in there.
    A minute goes by and I knock again.
    Two minutes, and I clear my throat loudly to remind him that I’m still waiting out here.
    Three minutes, and I turn to go back to my desk when I finally hear his deep voice tell me to come in.
    I roll my eyes, force a smile, and push open the door. “Hi, Mr. Slewson.”
    His cheeks look flushed, even with the small fan behind his desk throwing semi-cool air over him. “Please, take a seat, Max.” He gestures to the chair in front of his large oak desk and leans forward as his gray eyes follow me across the room.
    I sit and cross my legs, resting my pad on my lap. I pull out my pen and click it on, and look up with a smile. “Ready, sir.”
    He watches me for a second, running a hand through his hair. The air is stale in here, stale and sweaty with an underlying scent of something I don’t want to think about. I look back up when he doesn’t speak, and watch as his mouth twists up into a slow smile.
    “You’re ready, huh?”
    I nod. “Yes, sir.” I smile again patiently.
    “I bet your boyfriend loves you being ready, huh?”
    I swallow slowly. “Excuse me, sir?” I frown, heat spreading across my neck.
    The air has stilled around us, despite the fan still shuffling his papers every now and then as the oscillating head continues to turn from left to right and from right to left. My lashes feel heavy. Damn store didn’t have my usual brand and so I had opted for a cheaper pair, but I’m regretting it now in this sticky office.
    “I like it when you call me sir.” His mouth quirks up in a sleazeball smile that makes me want to gag. I have no idea what to say to that, or where to look for that matter; it’s all getting far too uncomfortable for my liking.
    Mr. Slewson suddenly barks out a deep laugh, making me jump and let out a little squeal. He stands and comes around his desk, adjusting his pants as he does, and I grimace as Mary’s words once again ring in my mind. He leans backwards against the oak desk, his butt perched at the edge, and he crosses his arms, all the while continuing to watch me with a smirk. I hadn’t realized that my chair was so close to the desk, and now with him standing there, his crotch is eye level with me. I lean back as far as possible but try to act natural about it.
    “You wanted me to take notes for you, about the last contract I typed up.” I look away from his sly grin, feeling the blush spread further up my neck to my cheeks. His eyes rove toward my heavy chest, and I feel embarrassment flare even more.
    “I bet you keep your boyfriend happy, don’t you, Max?” His tongue slips across his lips, his nostrils flaring. I don’t know if he’s trying to be seductive or not, but it’s not attractive. “Yeah, I bet you’re a real man-eater, aren’t you?” he chuckles.
    “Mr. Slewson.” I clear my throat again, embarrassed and unsure why I’m going to tell him the next thing, but hoping that the small truth will make him back off a little. “I, umm, I like to think I keep my girlfriend very happy.” I smile shyly, waiting for the penny to drop.
    I’ve never kept it a secret that I’m gay, and I’ve never been embarrassed about it, but it’s also not something I feel the need to openly talk about. Why would I? But the minute the words leave my mouth, I know that it was a huge mistake