Today I was trying to download the latest version of Word for Mac but my internet is too slow! I gave up after 8 hours and several attempts. I will go to the library tomorrow or Starbucks. Edits will commence on chapter 16 to the end to morrow, due Monday. Basically, I suck. I suck at grammar and I suck at verb tense. I'm sorry. If I were a better writer this would take so freakin' long!
BUT….. I have a cover! Names Can Never hurt Me
Blurb:
What
if sexuality wasn’t a definable thing and labels merely got in the way?
Nick Jones can’t remember a time when he wasn’t
part of the in crowd. Everywhere he goes, he stands out as the best looking guy
in the room, and women practically fall into bed with him. Then, after kissing
Corey on a dare led much more and on many occasions, Nick’s “screw anything”
reputation escalated, but he didn’t care.
When Nick meets RC at the restaurant where he
works, it throws his whole life out of whack. Overweight, always sweaty, gay,
and hairy like a bear, RC lives up to his dubbed nickname “scruffy dude.” He
seems Nick’s complete opposite, but Nick can’t get him out of his head.
Because of peer-pressure and his fears about
defining his sexuality, Nick struggles with stepping out of his comfort zone
and caring about someone different than himself. If he’s lucky, somewhere
between arrogance and ignorance, Nick might find out what it means to be an
adult, but if he’s wrong, he could lose everything.
This book is about labels and "defining" oneself. It contains abuse on some levels and it may make you scream at on turn and cry in another. I don't know. You all will have to let me know. No release date until edits are finished. I'll let you know.
Excerpt. Prologue and chapter 1. these are slightly more polished than my previous posts.
Prologue:
Last Year
It was
last year’s party at Mary-Louise’s house that got me thinking all the wrong
thoughts. She threw a kegger on Saint Patrick’s Day and I guess I should have
known better than to tempt fate by overindulging and letting my eyes wander. I
would have been better off numbing my brain and sticking to what everyone else
did and what everyone else thought, but I’m me
so of course I couldn’t conform. Except fantasizing about Corey Parrish, more
precisely his luscious mouth, was not
what everyone else did! At least not the people I knew. The guys I hung around
with normally ignored him, while the girls flocked to his side for advice on
outfits or hair. Whatever. I didn’t care about any of that. But I also
shouldn’t have cared—or wondered—so much about the flavor of his lip-gloss. Damn!
So, like
I said, it was last year and I was multi-tasking: drinking green beer and
thinking at the same time. At the beginning of the night nothing else mattered
except the booze and contemplating which girl might take me home. I scanned the
packed living room of Mary-Louise’s house and couldn’t help but chuckle. It’s
always the same. No matter how many “frat” parties I went to, the girls stood
around giggling while the guys got slammed.
“Says the
guy who’s out of Budweiser.” I tipped back my plastic cup and swallowed the last
drop of beer as I mumbled about the irony before meandering through the house
to the keg in the crowded kitchen.
Mary-Louise
was a pastor’s kid determined to sow some wild oats. She was nice enough to
throw parties practically every weekend, but not nice enough to spread her legs
for me—yet. That was fine, I didn’t care. Someone else would. At least she
hadn’t slapped me for trying to get her into bed with me four times. I’d met
her at the local community college when we were freshman. In the following four
years, while I took classes on and off at the same local school, Mary-Louise
did two years there, transferred to a four-year college, and graduated with a
bachelor’s in business. By now—were I a dedicated, forward-thinking student
like my friend—I’d have a degree too. Instead, I had loads of casual
acquaintances who liked to throw parties, and lots of time to get drunk instead
of figure out my future.
I just
didn’t know what I wanted to do.
Life
after high school pretty much sucked. I wasn’t expecting that. I’d been popular
back then, and I guessed I still was, but life’s more difficult now. I had bills
to pay, and I didn’t know what career path to choose. Luckily, I still lived
with my folks, and they didn’t ask for rent. They’d made a deal with me, that
as long as I paid my car insurance and maintained a three point four GPA (when
I was actually taking classes that was,) I was free to stay at home. But how
many years would they tolerate a slacker son? I didn’t know. And really, the
list of “I didn’t know” was longer than the list of shit I was sure of. It’s
depressing if I thought about it.
So I didn’t
think—I drank!
I filled
my cup with beer and watched the crowd chant as one guy stuck his head under
the keg nozzle and another guy opened it full blast. “Idiots,” I mused. Not
that I was all that different; I realized I was an idiot.
“Hey,
Nick.”
I turned
toward that oh-so-familiar voice behind me. “Hey, Dawn,” I said with a slight
lift of my chin. “What’s up?”
Dawn, my
ex-girlfriend, grinned and looked at her perky little friend before answering.
Her long brown curls bounced around her face and reminded me of the time I’d
watched her go down on me and all I could see was that lovely hair spread like
a blanket over my pelvis. That had
been sexy as hell. “Well,” Dawn said, “Chrissy and I were wondering if you’d
take on a little dare?”
I leaned
on the doorframe next to me. I was curious enough to listen because they were a
precocious pair. I took a swig of my newly filled cup. “Oh yeah? What kind of
dare?” Not that it mattered. If I did them a favor, maybe they’d be willing to
do me a little favor later—possibly together, naked, and with whipped cream.
Besides, I liked a challenge every now and again; it kept life interesting.
They
giggled and—yes—I rolled my eyes. Girls.
I
surmised it was Chissy’s turn to talk for the two of them because she smiled
and got a devilish look in her eyes. “You see Nick, Dawn, and I dared Corey
Parrish to kiss a straight guy. He said he would if we could find someone up to
the task who was sober enough to remember it happened, yet cute enough not to
be desperate.” Chrissy blushed deeply and ducked her face against Dawn’s
shoulder. She acted embarrassed, but I didn’t buy it for a second. She was a
hussy if ever I‘d known one. She held Dawn’s hand and nibbled her bare shoulder
playfully, but I knew for a fact they both liked dick.
Corey? My
stomach quivered. I’d just been thinking about Corey.
Corey
Parrish was hot as fucking fuck, and the thought of his mouth did things to me
I was trying to not dwell on. Something in the way he talked made me picture
kissing him and biting his lower lip until it bled. Shit. To make matters worse, Corey was openly gay. Did I really
need to get mixed up in Dawn’s and Chrissy’s little dare with a gay guy?
I took a
swig of my beer and casually tucked my fingers into the front pocket of my
jeans. If I remained calm, they’d never know I was about to puke. (From
nervousness, not excessive drinking.) “What’s in this for Corey? Don’t you
think it’s a cruel joke allowing him to kiss me and get nothing in return?”
“He wants
my brother’s cell number. I said I’d give it to him if he did something for
me,” Dawn replied.
Blackmail? Yeah, that was Dawn’s MO. Still, I
played dumb. “How is me kissing Corey something for you?” I swallowed more of
my beer.
Dawn
smiled wickedly. “I think it’s hot.”
“Hot?” I
lifted one eyebrow.
Chrissy
agreed, “Oh yeah! Two guys kissing is so hot.”
Two guys kissing is hot? Fuck yeah! I totally agreed. Only last week I’d
been browsing online, clicking different shared-links on Facebook, when before
I knew it I was pulling one off over a picture of two guys kissing, extending
their tongues into each other’s mouths. It was a black and white photograph;
one guy had facial hair and the other didn’t. As I’d stared at it, I began
fantasizing about Corey right there in my bedroom. That was a first for me, thinking
about another guy like that. I’d wanted to kiss Corey from the first time I saw
him at Mary-Louise’s New Year’s Eve party, but jerking off over it hadn’t
happen until last week. It had shocked the shit out of me mostly because, as I
said before, Corey’s gay. I’m not. I dated girls all the time. I had sex with
girls all the time. Just because I was attracted to Corey didn’t make me gay. Bisexual maybe, but certainly not gay.
Suddenly,
my mouth was answering, “So, all I gotta do is kiss him?” Shit, I’d just agreed to it! That’d teach me to daydream in the
middle of a conversation.
Dawn’s
eyes went wide. “You’ll do it?” she exclaimed with delight.
Suddenly,
I had to talk myself down off a ledge. Calm
down, Nick, it’s only a kiss. “Yeah, it’s just a kiss, right? No big.” I
tried passing off nervous exhilaration as nonchalance.
“Seriously?
You are so cool, Nick!” Chrissy squealed. “I knew you wouldn’t care. You’re so
open-minded.”
And apparently they bought it. If only I remained this calm as I kissed
him.
I
grinned. “Yeah, anything to make the two of you happy and horny.” I licked my
lips and lifted my eyebrows twice. They didn’t need to know I was into it
because Corey was their pawn, not me.
I
followed them into the other room to where Corey lounged on the couch chitchatting
with some girl I didn’t know. Corey talked to every girl, and although I tended
to be overly verbose, I wasn’t surprised there were a few ladies I hadn’t seen
before. Mary-Louise invited everyone to her parties, and I was in no way
jealous of Corey’s congeniality or charm. I had plenty of my own.
He was
wearing a tight green T-shirt with a V-neck, which allowed his chest hair to
curl over the edge of the fabric. The word “alluring” came to mind like one of
those dialogue tags in a cartoon, and I questioned my agreement to do this. I’d
have to be extra careful kissing him, because if I started fingering the hairs
on his chest like I was itching to do, these girls might start rumors. I didn’t
need “gay” rumors squelching my frequent, no-strings-attached sex life. No way,
José!
“So
Corey, we found someone,” Chrissy announced proudly, bouncing on the balls of
her feet. Chrissy tended to have more energy than a seven-year-old after a
two-pound bag of skittles. She always bounced.
Corey
looked up and smiled. Fuck me. My
stomach fluttered. “Wow,” he replied. “I’ll say you did!” He licked his top
teeth with the tip of his tongue and batted his eyes, showing off his
green-glitter eye makeup, which did not ease my apprehension over kissing him.
He was fucking adorable, and I knew it.
Corey
asked flirtatiously, “I recognize you. Nick, right? I saw you at the New Year’s
Eve party making out with Laney. Why do you want to kiss me?”
Knowing
he’d noticed me back on New Year’s did not help my trepidation. Plus—want? He thinks I want to kiss him? “I thought it was a game,”
I interjected, making sure I kept my voice low and casual. “They want to play
with you, and you want Andrew’s number.”
Corey’s
pleased expression disappeared, but I wasn’t going to change my orientation to
coax it back. “True,” he relented. “Okay, it’s a game, but you’re conceding to
it. Why? What do you get?”
Now was
the test. Could I portray arrogance and not overdo it to the point of
absurdity? I hoped so; I surely had experience. I slid my palm over the T-shirt
clinging to my muscular chest (oh yeah, I was cut,) and replied, “I get to add
another name to the list of those who want me.”
“God
knows I want you,” Chrissy said from
the side. Perfect timing.
I tilted
my head in her direction and grinned. “Thanks babe.” I winked for emphasis.
“You’ll get your turn.”
“Oh,
someone is sure of himself.” Corey shooed the girl next to him away and patted
the cushion. “Come here, honey. Let me see what you got.”
“Here,
hold this.” I handed my beer to Dawn and sat next to Corey. The prospect of
kissing this guy shot sparks of tingling desire through me, but I had to play
it cool. No way was I getting hard and giving the girls the wrong impression.
This was a game. I wasn’t gay.
I questioned
Chrissy with a look. “Am I kissing him or is he kissing me?”
Before
she could answer, Corey took hold of my chin and turned my head to face him. He
planted his lips firmly on mine and lingered before pulling back with a sigh.
“Nice. You willing to take it further?” Corey asked, teasing my lips with a
swift flick of his tongue. His pale blue eyes were firebrands.
Helplessly,
I nodded and leaned in. All my nervous energy from before transformed into a
surge of adrenaline. I had to have more of that mouth.
The girls
squealed in delight, but I ignored them as Corey’s hot mouth connected with
mine again. Corey curled his fingers into my neck and pulled me closer. He
parted his lips, and I slipped my tongue inside his mouth, taking control of
the kiss and causing Corey to moan. This was so fucking good. As our tongues
clashed, and I felt a deep need to fuck like I’d never felt before.
This was way different than kissing
girls, I thought. It was
seriously intense, for one thing, and for another, when I kissed girls, I often
felt it in my toes, but I had never felt like my groin was catching fire. Not
that that meant I would react the same with any
guy I kissed, but Corey surely did a number on my dick.
I turned
him on the sofa and leaned in, pushing him against the back of the couch. He
whimpered and moved his hand down my neck and onto my chest. His warm palm
rested over my pectoral muscle, and it made me want to flex for him, but I
didn’t. As soon as I thought about it, he pinched my nipple and those tingles I
felt all over my skin intensified. My body was humming in ways I hadn’t
expected, and I conjured up thoughts of doing
things I didn’t expect. Instinctively, I moved my leg over Corey’s knee and
angled my hips a smidgeon. Oh God, I need
friction. I gripped his shoulder with one hand as I held the side of his
neck with the other, but man-oh-man did I want to touch myself or rub against
his leg a little. Anything.
Corey
felt unbelievably good against me.
As if it
was the most natural thing in the world, I slid my fingers into the short hair
behind Corey’s ear and that was when someone commented, “Jeez, you were right.
Nick’ll fuck anything.” The sound of an unfamiliar female voice behind me
uttering such a toxic comment squelched my unexpected hunger, but I controlled
my resentment. It was far better to ignore the comment and pretend it hadn’t happened
than cause a scene and draw unwanted attention to the fact that I was hard as
hell and seconds from dry-humping Corey’s leg. If I was cool about it, maybe
Corey and I could slip off somewhere.
I slowed
my pace, kissing him gently, and pulled back as if nothing were amiss. The
heady look in Corey’s eyes stroked my ego, so I winked at him before facing the
gathering throng of horny women.
Three
eager girls sat side-by-side on the coffee table in front of the couch: Dawn,
Chrissy, and a red-haired girl I didn’t know. A few more stood behind them. It
seemed a lot of girls liked watching two guys kiss. Hmm. “Well? Hot enough for you?” I asked, knowing exactly what
they’d say.
“Oh
yeah,” Dawn moaned, placing her hand on Chrissy’s thigh, caressing her skin and
running her fingers up the inside of Chrissy’s leg.
Chrissy
cooed quietly, and spread her legs. “Yes… hot.” She swallowed hard and closed
her eyes. Her reaction kind of made me think of reaching up her dress, but Dawn
beat me to it. Dawn’s hand disappeared under the fabric as she kissed her
friend—her girlfriend—and felt her
up.
Hypocrite, I sneered. It was okay to judge me and
say I’d “fuck anything,” but Dawn was doing the exact same thing. I knew
personally just how she liked to fuck, and how often, because she’d been my
first way back in high school.
My
attention was drawn back to Corey when he sighed. He was still recovering from
my kiss. I shook my head and scoffed, “Women! I’m outta here.”
I had to
leave. Watching the two of them kiss after I’d just made-out with Corey made my
need to come stronger than ever. I dashed upstairs to find the bathroom. No
sooner had I locked the door and unzipped my jeans when I heard a quiet knock.
“Shit!” I hissed. “It’s occupied,” I called.
“Nick?”
Corey whispered.
I did up
my zipper and opened the door a few inches. “Corey, now’s not the time to—”
Corey pushed
his way inside the bathroom. He closed the door behind him and said, “I’m
sorry, but I wanted to catch you before you finished.”
“Corey,
I—”
“Save
it,” Corey insisted, holding up a hand. “There’s a garage out back. Meet me
behind it in fifteen minutes, and I’ll take care of your little… problem.” He
made his insinuation clear by boldly palming my erection. “Unless you think
allowing me to suck you off is a little too
open-minded.”
I
couldn’t answer. In fact, if he touched me a second longer, I was going to come
in my pants. Having someone else rub my dick felt so amazing. Sure, girls did
it, but rarely without my insistence. Corey, however, seemed to know what I
needed without prompting. All I could do was close my eyes and groan.
Corey
took his hand away and snickered. “Meet you out back.” And he was gone.
I
regrouped and contemplated his proposal. He said he’d suck me off. Would Corey want me to reciprocate? I’d
never sucked a dick before. Corey was the first boy I’d ever kissed. Or ever
wanted to kiss. Did it matter? Would people think I was gay? Did that matter? It was just sex, right? I
wasn’t dating Corey. I wasn’t getting emotional about it. It was just sex. Two
guys getting off. No big deal.
I once
heard a saying that over-analyzation leads to paralyzation. I don’t even know
if those are real words. Needless to say, I left the bathroom in a hurry.
Finding
Corey behind the garage wasn’t a problem. I slipped out of the house without
too much hassle. I got stopped a couple times, but by now, most people at the
party were drunk, and they weren’t paying attention to where others were going
and whom they were with. I walked out the front door and headed around the side
of the house after pretending to puke on the lawn, the classic excuse to leave
a party.
Corey
grabbed me as soon as I drew near and pushed me up against the side of the
building. His kiss was urgent and his hands greedy. He was a little rough, and
I liked it. It was nice not having to take charge for once. It felt liberating.
Corey kissed me for a minute or two before sinking to his knees. A warm rush
surged through my extremities as I looked down at him; his eyes glinted in the
faint light. Corey unzipped my jeans and freed my rigid cock. Oh fuck, that’s hot!
Corey’s
tongue made me shiver. Corey’s hands made me weak. But it was the suction of
Corey’s throat that made me tremble like never before. I rested my hand on
Corey’s head and gently encouraged his bobbing motion. I even felt daring
enough to thrust my hips forward and force myself down Corey’s throat. And
Corey didn’t mind! Girls hated to be forced to take more of me in. Not that I’m
a porn-star material, but I’m not small by any means. Being with a guy was a
refreshing change of pace. Corey sucked wildly and it didn’t take me long to
feel close.
“Corey,”
I whispered, leaning my head back on the brick wall. His wet friction was
unlike anything I’d ever felt. “Corey,” I whispered again more urgently. “I’m
gonna… come.” I tugged on Corey’s hair, but he didn’t let up. Seconds later, I emptied
into his throat and Corey didn’t pull back. He kept licking and swallowing
until I was finished, and only then did he get off his knees and kiss me.
The taste
was strong, salty… different.
Corey
tasted like… me, and to my surprise I
liked it.
Tentatively,
I reached between us and touched Corey. I felt the same hardness in his pants
I’d recently had in mine. I knew what Corey wanted, what he needed, but
suddenly there were voices close by, and I shoved Corey away and did up my
zipper before anyone had a chance to see what was going on.
“Let’s go
back inside,” Corey suggested.
I thought
about it. “Nah, I think I’m going home. My parents told me not to be out too
late.”
“Okay.
Can I give you my number? Maybe we can hook up sometime?”
“Yeah,
sure.”
We
exchanged phone numbers, and I said good-bye without another glance.
At home,
before I found sleep, I thought about his kiss and our actions by the garage.
Corey was really sexy, and the things we’d done tonight had felt so fucking
good, but what would people think? Was it worth a good lay to be labeled “gay?”
I didn’t really care about Corey, even if he was hot. It was about sex. And if
it was just sex, then going out with girls
and hooking up with girls was much
less complicated.
I grabbed
my phone and texted Chrissy: Hey. Go to
the movies with me next Friday?
A few
minutes later she texted back: Of
course!!!
I grinned
in the quiet of my room and placed my phone on the nightstand. Chrissy was hot
and easy. I knew I’d end up fucking her Friday night.
Nah, I’m not gay.
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 split, 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 been apart, I had dated four other girls as well
as hooking up with Corey, and I had seen Chrissy out with several other guys. I
knew she’d be fine with it.
Her text
response: K.
It was
shorter than I expected. Way shorter. Some part of me had hoped for something
along the lines of “Oh, really? Are you sure? I’m gonna miss your huge dick.
Please don’t break up with me, you big stud.” 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’d done
every morning of my existence. I yawned and wandered over to the cabinet and
took out a glass.
“It’s
about time, sleepyhead,” my mom said. She was normally talkative and full of
energy in the morning. I, on the contrary, was not.
I looked
her way and smiled groggily. “Good morning.” Two words were all I could muster.
She dried
her hands and walked up behind me. I felt her head on my back and her arms
encircle my middle. This was the way she hugged me every morning if I was
pouring juice or standing by the toaster. On rare occasions, I would turn
around and hug her properly 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. A quarter of ten. My terror defused, I grumbled, “No it’s not. I still
have fifteen minutes to get to work. That
signifies it’s still morning.”
She
patted my back and resumed 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 mouthful 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. 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 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. “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 often ribbed me
about the comfort I enjoyed, except it was never done maliciously. I secretly
thought she was jealous.
I
instinctively defended myself. “Hey, Sunday we’re closed because the owner is a
Christian. Don’t mock his religion, Mom. The schedule has 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 when
she remained silent, I asked, “Mom, what are you getting at?”
She
shrugged apathetically, which bothered me because she rarely hesitated to share
her opinion. If she was holding back now, it was probably because she knew I
wouldn’t like what she had to say.
“Mom?” I
pressed.
She
finally explained, “You sleep all day. You go to work, barely. I mean, I know
you work almost forty hours a week now, and I’m glad, but we hardly ever see
you.” Then she sighed. Sighing was never a good sign. “When you come home, you
go out with that girl.” Her emphasis on the word “girl” made the conversation
gel.
“Chrissy
and I broke up,” I told her. It was a knee-jerk reaction. The comment popped
out on its own. She didn’t deserve agonizing over Chrissy and me if we weren’t
a couple.
Her chin
lifted and her shoulders relaxed. “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 all we did was make-out in my room before dinner, then
she’d make small talk with my family while groping 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 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 perkiness return to her voice.
“Chrissy took up a lot of your time,” she said. “Whatever happened to your
friend Corey? He hasn’t been around in ages.”
Of course
she liked Corey. He was super social. Plus, he knew decorum. Around the
parents, Corey put on a straight face even if he dressed outrageously. 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. We talked… sometimes. Most of our long conversations were at the
dinner table when my mom invited him to stay. It was those evenings with my
family that I learned about his sister’s drug problem and about him growing up
on a farm in Carroll County. Over dinner, I learned about his family and
upbringing and things he wanted to accomplish in life. But when we were out, it
was all fucking and grunting and very few words besides “harder,” “deeper,” and
“don’t stop.”
Oddly, I
felt a pang of longing. Hearing his name out of the blue reminded me I missed
him. The few times we’d hooked up in the past year had been 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 D.C.,” I explained. I grabbed a pot 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. And he was such a good-looking boy,
too.”
Good looking? What did that have to do
with anything? I ignored
that particular comment. “I have friends, Mom. Paul at work is pretty cool.” I
tried to be upbeat about not having male friends, but really, that fact nagged
me all the time. I basically didn’t talk with anyone outside work.
“Well,
maybe you could invite Paul to dinner sometime.”
She was
all cheery and optimistic, and I hated squelching her bliss. “Mom, guys don’t
have dinner with their buddies’ families. It’s just not done. I’m not in high
school.”
“Well,
all I’m saying is 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 when I came
home with groceries.”
The
thought of my mom hearing me have sex was just gross, but I was relieved she
had fixated on Chrissy. My shock, and near-death experience from choking, was
from her slight inference to me having sex with Corey on my bed. Because that had happened. “Mom,” I tried explaining
again when my hacking-up-a-lung attack 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. “I think we need to implement the ‘no friends in the room’ rule
anyway. Jennifer’s talking about boys on the phone with her friends. If she
brings one over, I can’t let her take him to her room.”
“Jenn’s
dating?” That was a shock. It made me feel old for some reason.
“Not yet,
but soon. She is going to be sixteen.
We should be happy she hasn’t pressed the issue sooner.”
“I guess.
Wow, Jenn dating. Weird.”
“I know,”
Mom agreed. “Anyway, have a good day at work, dear. If you’ll excuse me, I have
to get ready for Zumba.” She kissed my cheek and left the room.
“Bye,
Mom. See you after my shift.” I called after her, still standing at the stove
stirring my noodles.
After
adding the flavor packet, I drained the juice, poured the noodles in a bowl and
sat down to eat. I had five minutes until I had to be at work.
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 had moved to Arlington, Virginia after she graduated. Not that
Arlington was all that far away—less than two hours south wasn’t bad—but I
hadn’t seen her in months. Some of the regular crowd had driven 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 full-time, and
that included most weekends. It was the first full-time job I’d held for longer
than two months. My mom had even told me she was proud of me when I hit the
ninety-day mark and had gotten a raise. So far, it had been seven months 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.
I know. I think I knew that the other
couple times we broke up too, but being with her was easier than being alone.
IDK. I paused a second. Some
thoughts had swirled around my foggy brain on occasion, and this seemed like as
good a time as any to ask. Can I ask you
a question? I pressed send. I had to know. We’d been friends for years, and
she was the only one of our usual crowd I hadn’t slept with. I needed to know
why. Because now that Chrissy was history, maybe M-L would be interested in a
little tête-à-tête.
Shoot, she shot back.
I’ve known you for years. Why is it we
never hooked up?
Mary-Louise
took a long time responding, unusually long. So much time that I had finished
my noodles, thrown 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 the parking lot at work. I was baffled. I
had fooled around with Shawna a couple of times and never known 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 D.C., and I haven’t seen him since New Year’s. But I think
he’s fine.
Too bad. You two 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 more!
Like Dawn?
Oh God, no!
LOL
Bye, Nick.
Laterz M-L!
I locked
my car and walked into work feeling glum. Why had M-L thought I was gay? Did I
look gay? I thought not! Breaking up with
Chrissy was a good thing. But missing Corey… I shook away the feelings
bubbling up concerning him. Denial was best.
