The three of us make our way across the gravel parking lot and enter the store.

There are two white men inside, mid-conversation behind the counter when William opens the glass door. They look about mid-forties, and have similar features: dark hair, spotty noses, and wide builds. Brothers, I think.

Right away, the vibe feels sour.

They clearly saw us drive up and watched us walk across the otherwise empty lot, but take their time in turning our way. The taller brother nods. “How y’all doin’.”

“Good, thanks,” William replies. He pulls out his wallet. “I’d like thirty dollars on the pump out there.”

“All right,” the man says. He takes William’s bills and rings it up while the other brother eyes me and Alice in a way that tells me whatever he’s thinking is not a compliment. His mouth looks shiny, like he’s just eaten something covered with oil.

William wears his mildest, most reasonable demeanor. “Do you have a restroom?”

“One. Back o’ the store.” The brother reaches up behind the shelf over the counter where all the large cigarette boxes are stored behind glass. Then he hands William a long, uncomfortably stained wooden rod with a string-tied key looped around the end.

“Thanks.” William takes the rod without a beat. He turns to wave to Sel, signaling the pump is ready to go, but as he pivots back around, he checks in on Alice and me with his eyes and a raised eyebrow. You okay?

I nod. “We’ll just look for some snacks,” I say, loud enough for both men—and Sel—to hear.

Alice and I make our way to the stand of potato chips. I suddenly wish we didn’t have to pee. This is awkward, and the hairs on the back of my neck are on end; we’re being watched.

William exits the bathroom a blessed few minutes later and we move to the center of the store to join him. He holds the key stick thing out for one of us to take—and that’s when the sour feeling in the store turns sharp.

“I’ll take that back,” the second brother says, coming around the counter. He’s taller than William and wider, and he reaches for the stick before either of us can take it.

“Oh, we’ve got to go as well,” Alice explains with a nervous smile.

The man tucks the key under one arm. “Sorry. Toilet’s out of order.”

Alice’s jaw drops, and I stiffen. “What?” I ask, looking to William and back. “He just—”

“Out of order.” The corner of the man’s mouth lifts in a smirk full of sudden spite, eyes glued to mine as if to pin all that spite right on me. Paint it on my face, so I won’t misunderstand.