Andy Stevenson vs. The Lord of the Loins (15 page)

"Well, you were a complete and total idiot for having sex with him.” Huh. Mood swings much? “But, it's going to be okay.” He came and sat down next to me.

"You're right about me being an idiot.” It felt good to have him close to me right now. “Do you remember what you said to me two days after we started dating?"

"Is this about the mouthwash again?"

"No.” I'd gotten over that ... hours ago. It wasn't every day that you expressed your affection for someone only to have them call you a few hours later and tell you that they went home and used mouthwash because they'd never French kissed before and it felt “really weird."

"You mean that we would only see each other on the weekends because school comes first and relationships can be put on hold, education can't?"

"That's what I'm referring to.” Psycho. “We set up rules and spent every moment together we could anyway. I thought I'd be able to handle everything—my feelings for you, the attacks from Tristan. I'm afraid you're going to dump me."

"I can't dump you.” Alan put his arm around me and pulled me close. “I think I'm falling in love with you."

"That's...” It sounded romantic until that one little word started to sink in. “You
think
you're falling in love with me?"

"Yeah."

"You couldn't just say you're falling in love with me?” I pressed.

"It's called passive-aggressive.” He squeezed my shoulder. “You'll get used to it."

"Where've I heard that before?” Did we know each other long enough to “think” about falling in love? Well, his was the first voice I wanted to hear when I woke up, and his was usually the last voice I heard before I went to bed—provided there was nothing good on TV that he was watching. It was like we were already married, just without all the good stuff that most couples engage in until shortly after they're married.

"I didn't want to say anything to you before now because I was afraid you might not feel the same, but I wanted you to know how I felt.” He looked down at the floor then sheepishly back up at me. “Kendra wrote my number down before she went home then called me a few days later and told me the story about you in grade school with the valentines. She was hoping that, if I felt strongly enough, I might surprise you. I may not always show or say it, but I can't stand not being around you. When Kim called and told me what happened, I came right here looking for you because the thought of you hurting..."

"Wow.” This was overwhelming. Nobody had ever been there for me before, at least not in the romantic sense. I kinda liked it. “To borrow a few of your words, I think I'm falling in love with you, too.” And I thought I meant it.

"I want you to know that you don't have to face Tristan alone. We're a couple.” He stood and pulled me up. “You've got my strength, my trust, my love ... the Ginsu Knife in my room and Kendra's promise of fifteen bull-dykes sporting power tools."

It was such a momentous moment ... a lovely moment...

"What are you going to do about Kim and Ryan?"

A completely spoiled moment.

"Oh, don't you start.” I sat down on the bed. “They're too closely involved in this not to tell them, but then they'd know about us and that would betray the trust you put in me to keep this discreet."

"Your middle name?"

Was he being sarcastic?

"Yes."

No, he was being sweet.

"Remind me to buy you a dictionary.” No, he was being sarcastic. “Do you trust them?"

"Yes, I do, and you wouldn't have to worry about Kim ever coming after you with a pair of rusty scissors. That'll be me.” There was something nagging at me in the back of my mind. Why had Kim liked him in the first place?

"Then maybe you should talk to them and only them.” Alan looked at me strangely. “For some reason, I feel I need to be overly specific when I tell you something important."

"What was it you did for Kim that made her like you so much?” I eyed him curiously. “Did you hold a door open for her or tell her she smelled nice? She's stalked for less than that and you're gay, so I don't think you'd do what she was hoping people would think you did.” Or did he? “Did you?"

"That's between Kim and I. Now...” He ran his fingers through my hair and tried to smooth out the mess my hat had made. “I have to get to my next class so I'm not totally delinquent today. Are you going to be okay?"

"I've got you. What more do I need to be okay than that ... and maybe Tristan's testicles hanging over the mantel of my fireplace? If I had a fireplace."

He chuckled and stood up to leave. I did feel the need to add something before he closed the door behind him, though.

"By the way..."

He stopped.

"I don't accept for a moment that juvenile response about what you did for Kim being between the two of you. There are greater mysteries in life to ponder, and if this was a story I was writing, it would only be a minor plot point."

"True,” Alan agreed, “but then, as the writer, you'd know the answer to the question. You don't have a clue, though, and quite honestly, that gives me some sadistic pleasure."

"The honeymoon is over,” I announced. “At least you still think you're falling in love with me and I don't think I'll ever get tired of hearing you say that. Do you think you could say it again?"

"No. I told you once I think I love you. If anything changes, I'll let you know.” And with that, my boyfriend left me to go to class.

Gosh, he said the sweetest things...

I decided to wait until Saturday night before sitting Kim and Ryan down for “the talk.” Things between the three of us had remained cordial up to this point, but there was a lot of silence and that bothered me. It wasn't healthy. Or is it Twinkies that aren't healthy? Someone I passed in a club in California called me a Twinkie, and the way he said it just didn't sound good. Or was it a Twink, which must be short for Twinkie? People are just weird.

Alan was right in that I couldn't do this on my own no matter how much I wanted to. What were friends for if they couldn't help you plot against your enemies? Besides, there was more than just my honor at stake here. If I couldn't stand up to one of my own, how could I expect to stand up to the rest of society when and if the time ever came?

"What's going on?” Ryan asked me when he walked in. He saw Kim sitting by the stereo and groaned. “This better not be about a new Samantha Fox single.” And here came the question. “What is this shit you're listening to?"

"It's called ‘The Promise,'” I told him.

"Oh, yeah.” And here came the sarcasm. “It's by that group who's very near and dear to my heart. What's their name again? It's just on the outskirts of my memory ... much like their career is on the charts."

"Honey.” Kim decided to put a quick end to anything else he had to say about the choice in music. “You're thinking of another group. This is When In Rome, not When You're A Gnome."

"Let's not do the usual thing tonight, okay?” I wanted to stop them before things really turned ugly, though it was going to turn that way anyway. “Ryan, why don't you sit down?"

He did—right next to Kim, which he knew would annoy her. It did. After offering them both something to drink—always the good host—I sat down on my bed and faced them.

"I owe you both an apology. Something happened at the beginning of the semester that I've kept from the two of you, something I should have come clean about a whole lot sooner."

"Andy,” Ryan interrupted, “you forget that I was there. Okay, so you slept with your cousin. It happens—in less progressive states like Indiana, I'm sure, but it happens.” He was going to get socked if he didn't knock it off. I knew this because I saw Kim's fists clench. “And if you're talking about Tristan, the ad in the paper was just his way of getting his fifteen minutes of fame at your expense. A lot of guys like you get called gay these days."

"That may be ... What do you mean ‘guys like me?'” I stammered? “Wait ... I am gay."

"No.” He laughed nervously. “You're not."

"Yes, actually, I am,” I insisted.

"You can't be,” he insisted right back.

"Why?” I had the distinct impression I was experiencing reverse deja vu.

"Because."

"Oh, no. I'm not having this conversation again.” Now I knew exactly how Jordan felt that fateful day in California. “Okay, Ryan?” I got his attention. “You can sit there and deny it however you want, but the end result is still the same—I'm gay. It's not something I'm ashamed of, but it isn't something I'm exactly comfortable with, either."

"You've seen me naked when we changed at the pool.” A look of horror came over his face.

"So?” What did that have to do with anything?

"I'd just gotten out of the water, and it was cold."

"Ryan ... I don't care.” I tried to sound sincere. “You could have six inches and I wouldn't care because you're a friend of mine and friends don't have those thoughts towards other friends, especially when they're straight."

"I ‘could have’ six inches? Excuse me?” Ryan steamed. “The average male is six inches, and you can't even give me the benefit of the doubt of an extra inch? What the hell is that all about?"

"It was just an example.” I tried to calm him down. “My point is that it doesn't matter if you have six inches or two because we're friends and things like that—"

"So now I have two?” He crossed his arms in indignation. “We've gone from six to two?"

"Drop it.” I finished it right then.

"Andy's right,” Kim agreed. “It ain't the size, it's—No...” She changed her mind and grinned. “It's the size."

"Look, I invited you both over for a couple of reasons tonight, and this is so not one of them. First, I wanted to apologize, and I did that. Second, I wanted to tell you that I'm gay, so that's done. The last part of this is a bit more embarrassing.” I went and got myself a Pepsi out of the refrigerator. This could be a very long night. “None of us is completely blind, so I'm sure we've all noticed that things haven't been the same between us since this whole mess began. You've been wondering about me, and now you know that part, but you don't know everything."

"Quit repeating yourself and just tell us.” Ryan was losing interest fast.

"I'm not repeating myself.” I opened the can and sat back down. “Apologizing is just very important to me, and now that I've done that and the other thing, it's easier to tell you the third thing that I—"

"Honey?” Kim held her hand up to stop me. “You're repeating yourself. Now seriously, what could you have to say that's more painful than telling your best friends that you're gay?"

"You haven't heard it yet."

"Are we ever going to hear it?” Ryan growled.

"Fine. The short version?” They nodded. “Here's half of it. Everyone remember Tristan?” Again, they nodded. “He's gay, and we had sex after Kim left his apartment."

Kim's mouth dropped, and Ryan started laughing.

"You got the guy Kim was going after?” Ryan was practically howling. “I never thought I'd live to see the day I'd hear this story."

"I told him I didn't want a one-night stand and he led me to believe he didn't, either, but all he really wanted was a piece of ass. The problem is that he liked what he had and wants to have it again. Quite frankly...” I said this for Kim's sake. “...because I won't give up the booty, he's been making my life miserable ever since."

"You won't give up the what again?” Ryan asked, finally calming down enough to speak. “I don't ... I mean ... how does ... where do you put..."

"Don't even go there. It's still kind of new to me, too.” I told them what Tristan's poems were really about, the latest incident with him sitting behind Aydin and, of course, the ad in the paper. I also briefly told them about the trip to California, then finally brought everything around full circle to Tristan again. “He figures if he gets me to come out, I'll suddenly see the error of my ways and dive for his crotchrocket."

"His what?” Ryan hadn't heard this term, either.

"Sorry.” I shook my head. “That was Kimspeak for penis."

Speaking of Kim, she hadn't said a peep. That meant she was either scheming or fantasizing, which could sometimes or frequently blur together.

"Is he big?” She eyed me. Definitely fantasizing. “Like, longer than your forearm and thick as a beer can?"

"I don't think I want to hear this.” Ryan looked ready to cover his ears.

"I don't think I want to be
asked
this,” I concurred.

"Well, honey.” Kim was all sweetness, and I knew she'd switched to scheming. “I just want to make sure that dicking over your best friend was worth it.” Yep, I was in for it. “Did your eyes roll up into the back of your head while he played with your nipples and pounded your..."

"Excuse me?” There was something very wrong with this conversation, and she really needed to think about what she said before she said it. “Why am I the one taking it up the ass in your fantasy?"

Her eyes narrowed to mere slits, and I decided right then and there that it was better not to know. Instead, I spilled.

"He's a ninety-second wonder, minus the wonder."

"La la la la la la...” Ryan looked as if he was ready to bolt from the room and run screaming into the night, except it was cold out.

"Tristan is beautiful, and beautiful people can't possibly be bad in bed. It's like a law of nature or the Eleventh Commandment. How could he possibly be...?” She looked up and found Ryan and I glaring at her. “Sorry. The prick! I can't believe you've been putting up with all that and haven't said anything to us. Who does this mo-fo think he is, anyway? The Lord of the Loins?” That had a certain ring to it.

"Personally,” Ryan interjected, “I think you're acting like a pussy.” I turned my glare towards him. “Don't look at me like that. This guy does all these things, and the only thing you do to stop him is insult him and use foul language? I don't get it."

"I'm just trying to be an adult about this and..."

"Pussy,” he taunted.

"What's wrong with being mature about...?"

"Puuuuuuuuussy."

"Forget the troll. I'm your friend, honey. Meow meow meow.” Kim came over and put her arms around me, completely ignoring Ryan. “And in case you're wondering, this positive attitude is called denial. My black ass is gonna stay in denial just long enough to help you out, then you and I are gonna talk about how you never come between a fluffy woman and her bald-ass giggle sticks."