Chapter
1
Now
I broke up with Chrissy through a text. I
knew it was insensitive, but it was the third time in fourteen months we’d
broke up and I wasn’t up for the obligatory “date” just to give her the boot.
That would have been pointless. Chrissy knew we weren’t made for one another;
we’d only ever had sex. Not that I was complaining about that, but pretending
to be a couple was plain stupid. Besides, during those few times we had broken
up, I had dated four other girls as well as hooking up with Corey, and I had
seen Chrissy out with several other boys. I knew she’d be fine with it.
Her text response was: K.
It was shorter than I expected. Way
shorter. Some part of me hoped for something along the lines of “Oh, really?
Are you sure? I’ll miss your huge dick fucking my dripping pussy.” But that was
just wishful thinking on my part. It was my fantasy, not reality. In reality
Chrissy gave me a one-letter reply: K.
I pocketed my phone and headed down the
steps. My hard-working mother, meticulous and self-sacrificing, was in the
kitchen washing dishes much like she was every morning of my existence. I
yawned and wandered over to the cabinet and took out a glass.
“It’s about time, sleepy head,” my mom
said. She was normally talkative and full of energy in the morning, on the
contrary—I was not.
I looked her way and smiled groggily.
“Good morning.” Two words were all I could muster.
My mom dried her hands and walked up
behind me. I felt her head on my back and her arms squeezed me around my
middle. This was the way she hugged me every morning if I was busy pouring
juice or standing by the toaster. On the rare occasion I would turn around and
hug her like a normal son, but mostly she hugged me from behind. She wasn’t
bothered by the method as long as the hug was had first thing. I kind of liked
the affection, even if I wasn’t a kid anymore. She released me and commented,
“Morning was about three hours ago, Nicky, now it’s afternoon.”
“What?” A jolt of panic prompted me to
stop pouring my juice and whirl around to find the clock. Nine forty-five. My
terror defused, I grumbled, “No it’s not. I still have fifteen minutes to leave
for work. That signifies it’s still
morning.”
She patted my back and went back to
washing the dishes. Of course, she couldn’t allow the silence to linger long.
Mom had a hard time doing that. “For a person who got up at four thirty,” she
explained, “to get your father off to work, who has done three loads of laundry
and ironed six shirts and four pair of pants, it’s the afternoon. One of these
days you’ll realize how cushy your life is, mister. It must be nice having an
extra long weekend ahead of you. Will the family see your face, or will you
sleep through it all?”
I swallowed a mouth full of juice and set
the glass down. “Mom, I know I live like a king, that’s why I’ll never leave.”
I joked. Truly, I did know how good I had it at home. It was the one thing I
had going on that I didn’t want to change. “And yes you’ll see me this weekend.
You asked me to take off on Monday, so I put in for it weeks ago. And it’s not
my fault my normal Saturday off this month falls on the same weekend.” I
chuckled and continued, “The boss was actually a little peeved about that. It
was funny.”
My mother didn’t see the humor when she
said, “But you were off yesterday. Working three days a week must be nice.” She
dried a dish and put it away, la-dee-da. She rarely gave me a break about the
comfort I enjoyed, except, she also didn’t try to curb it. I secretly think
she’s jealous.
I instinctively defended myself by
saying, “Hey, Sunday we’re closed because the owner is a Christian. Don’t mock
his religion, Mom. The schedule has always been like this since I started, why
are you busting my chops about it now?” I wasn’t sure where the conversation
was leading, and I wasn’t overly enthused about asking, but I did when she
remained silent. “Mom, what are you getting at?”
She shrugged. “I don’t know.” She was all
“apathetic” and that bothered me. My mom always had an opinion and when she
held it back, it was most likely because she thought I wouldn’t like it. “You
sleep all day. You go to work, barely. I mean,” she sighed, “I know you work
almost forty hours a week now, and I’m glad, but we hardly ever see you. When
you come home, you go out with that girl—”
“Chrissy and I broke up,” I interjected.
It was like a knee-jerk reaction, the comment popping out on its own.
I noticed her shoulders come up. “Oh…
well, I’m sorry about that, but I’m sort of glad. She wasn’t really… right for
you.”
I knew my mom. What she was saying
without saying it was that Chrissy was a tramp. I knew that. When she came over
my house all we did was make-out in my room before dinner, and then she’d make
small talk while she groped me under the table. She was even hornier than Dawn,
come to think of it. It wasn’t that Chrissy didn’t know how to respect my
parents; she was simply tactless.
“You don’t have to worry, Mom, I’m not
seeing her anymore.” I sincerely hoped not. I had meant it the other few times
we’d broken up, but somehow that itch just kept showing up and Chrissy knew how
to scratch it.
“Oh, good.” Mom was pleased. I enjoyed
hearing the perky sound that returned to her voice. She continued, “Chrissy
took up a lot of your time. Whatever happened to your friend Corey? He hasn’t
been around in ages.”
Of course my mom liked Corey. He was
super social. Plus, he knew decorum. Around the parents, Corey put on a
straight face. He didn’t flirt. He didn’t grope me and he certainly didn’t kiss
me in front of them. We looked like buds. And Corey really was my friend, sort of. We talked… sometimes. Mainly the long
conversations were at the dinner table when he stayed for a meal. When we were
out, it was all fucking and grunting and very few words. But over dinner, I had
learned about his family and upbringing and things he wanted to accomplish in
life.
Oddly, I felt a pang of longing. Hearing
his name out of the blue reminded me I missed him. The few times we hooked up
in the past year were sensational, but they never lasted. Corey wasn’t looking
for a boyfriend. He was up front with that stipulation and I was fine with it
since I was straight most of the time. Besides, I had Chrissy to fall back on.
“Um, Corey moved to DC,” I explained. I
grabbed a pan out of the cabinet and put some water on for Ramen noodles—my
staple of life.
“Oh,” she responded sadly. “I’m sorry,
dear. He seemed like such a nice boy. You don’t have too many guy friends over,
I guess I was glad to see you had at least one.”
“I have friends. Paul at work is pretty
cool.” I tried to be up beat about it, but really, that fact nagged me all the
time. I basically didn’t talk with anyone outside work.
“Well, maybe you could invite him to
dinner sometime.”
She was all cheery and optimistic and I
hated squelching her bliss. “Mom, guys don’t have dinner with their buddy’s
families. It’s just not done. I’m not in high school.”
“Well, all I’m saying is that, if you ever decide to bring over a buddy
to watch sports with your dad or something, he will be welcome to stay for
dinner.”
“Watch sports?” I arched an eyebrow.
Something fishy was going on in Denmark and I was starting to figure it out.
“You just want me in the living room so you can watch what I’m doing.”
“No…,” she tried to say but relented,
“okay, yes. I didn’t like you and Chrissy up in your room doing who knows what
with the door closed. It’s just not a good example for your little sister. At
least with Corey, I knew you weren’t having sex on the bed I’d just made.”
I nearly choked. “Mom!” I coughed a few
times expelling juice from my lungs.
“Sorry for being so blunt, but that girl
wasn’t quiet. I heard you a few times down here when I came home with
groceries.”
The thought of my mom hearing me have sex
was just gross, but in some ways a relief that she fixated on Chrissy. My
shock, and near death experience from choking, was from her slight reference to
me having sex with Corey on my bed. Because that did happen! “Mom,” I tried explaining again when my
hacking-up-a-lung attack had subsided. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for you to
hear that. It won’t happen again.” And I meant it.
“Good,” she replied. “Now, if you excuse
me, I have to get ready for Zumba.” She kissed my cheek and headed out of the
room.
“Bye, Mom. See you after my shift.” I
called after her, still standing at the stove stirring my noodles.
“Okay,” she called back, her voice
drifting down the hall. We were one of those “yelling” families that hollered
through the house. And, on occasion, we texted each other from one room to
another in the house. No one ever seemed energetic enough to walk and find the person they wished to converse
with—ha ha, that would be stupid.
After adding the flavor packet, I drained
the juice, poured the noodles in a bowl and sat down to eat. I had five
minutes.
My phone buzzed. It was a text from
Mary-Louise. Hey, I’m throwing a party
this weekend. It might be one of the last few. My schedule changed and I’ll
have less time for fun. I guess I have to be a grown-up now.
I grinned. She’d moved to Alexandria,
Virginia after she graduated. Not that Alexandria was all that far away, less
than two hours south wasn’t bad, but I still hadn’t seen her in months. Some of
the regular crowd drove down a few times, but it hadn’t interested me. It was a
lot of money in gas just to drink and get laid. I could do that right here. But
then again, she was my friend.
I texted: Nah, I’ll pass. I work a lot too.
It wasn’t a lie. Since I had gotten the
job at Papa’s Pizzeria, I worked fulltime and that included practically every
weekend. It was the first forty-hour job I’d kept longer than two months. My
mom even told me she was proud of me when I’d hit the ninety-day mark and had
gotten a raise. So far, it’d been seven months in a row of employment for the
Nickster! Oh, yeah! I was so stoked.
Mary-Louise texted back: We will miss you! :^( How are things with
Chrissy? Still seeing her?
No.
Broke up this morning.
Sorry.
:^( She wasn’t right for you
anyway.
Can
I ask you a question? I
had to know. We’d been friends for years now and she was the only one of our
usual crowd I hadn’t slept with. I needed to know why?
Shoot.
Ok,
so, I’ve known you for years. Why is it we never hooked up?
Mary-Louise took a long time responding.
So much time that I had finished my noodles, threw on a work shirt, and was in
my car before I received a reply. She wrote: I really thought you knew, especially since you were close friends with
Corey. I’m a lesbian, Nick. I was dating Shawna my senior year. I’m sorry if
that freaks you out. I hope not. You’ve always been so non-judgmental.
“Shawna?” I questioned out loud. I pulled
into work and parked my car. I was baffled. I had fooled around with Shawna a
couple of times and I never knew she was a lesbian. Fuck me!
Before getting out of the car I texted a
response: No, I didn’t know. And yes, it’s
fine. It doesn’t bother me if you’re gay. At least it explains why you never
went out with me when everyone else was taking a turn. I hope you’re happy.
I
am, thanks. What about you and Corey? Anything ever happen with him?
Corey. Why does it keep coming back to
him? I texted: He moved to DC and I
haven’t seen him since New Years. But I think he’s fine.
Too
bad, you made a cute couple.
“We weren’t a couple,” I complained out
loud as if she could hear me. Now she was just agitating me. I’m not gay, M-L! I tended to shorten
her name in text to initials. Mary-Louise was just too long. And even when we
spoke, I sometimes shortened it and she didn’t mind.
Oh!
No, of course not. I’m sorry. I just thought you and Corey had a thing going.
I’m sorry if I was wrong. Please don’t be mad.
No,
I’m not. Just frustrated. I do miss Corey, but it’s not ’cause I’m gay for him.
Okay.
I believe you. Listen, I gotta go. But I hope you find someone better for you
than Chrissy. She’s so trashy. You deserve better!
Like
Dawn?
Oh
God, no!
LOL
Bye,
Nick.
Laterz
M-L!
I locked my car and walked into work
feeling glum. Why did M-L think I was gay? Do I look gay? I think not! Breaking up with Chrissy was a good thing.
But missing Corey… I shook away the feelings that bubbled up concerning
him. Denial was best.
