“How do you not know something like that, Austin?”
“You bury it so deep that you forget it’s there,” I sighed. “And when it tries to surface, you grab someone, or something, and use it to help keep it buried.”
“Melissa,” she said. I nodded at the mention of my other ex-fiancée. “And Justine.” She grabbed the bottle, stepped down into the living room and curled onto the couch.
I followed, sitting down beside her, resting my head on the back of the sofa, its leather caressing my neck. “And night school rather than college, double shifts, overtime to have an excuse not to date or spend time with whoever I was dating, no single friends, no male friends except for Dave, always women who wanted commitment,” I added. “I never had to think of it again with them. Just plow ahead into family, kids, eventually work my long hours at the FBI.”
“Until what? What changed? Did I do something?”
“You and a slew of events,” I said honestly, hoping it didn’t sound like an accusation. I was hoping for a lot of things tonight. “I just stopped giving a fuck what Desmond Glass thought after he ended his affair with you. You were so broken for a while after that.”
“You knew? Before we started dating?” I nodded my response. “And you didn’t say anything?” At the rate we were tossing Bourbon down our throats, we’d have to be spatula’d off her cream carpet soon.
“Because I didn’t care that you were using me to get back at my father. Next to Dave you were the closest thing to family I had, and being with you was the only time being with a woman felt natural, pressure-free.”
“Did you just compare me to being your sister,” she scoffed, pulling her feet up on the sofa and using my lap as a headrest. “Because I knew you were demented, but…”
“A distant cousin, twice removed,” I assured her, twisting the end of her ponytail in the ensuing silence.
“Austin…?”
“Yeah, Angel?”
“I think I did know.”
“How’s that?”
“Sometimes the sex was just awful.”
My ego made a muffled cry from under that blow.
Stumbling home around three the next afternoon, I checked my voicemail as I let myself in the house. Luis had left a message, reminding me to be in early on Monday to pick through forensics’ findings.
Spending the night talking had been cathartic, but the lack of sleep was pushing me into a coma. With the upcoming morning promising to be a smorgasbord of stress, I decided to forgo the gala and rest in preparation for Monday’s hell. I flopped face-first on the bed and fell asleep in my clothes for the second time that week.
You’re Invited to the Wedding
No amount of jogging or working out could ease the worry over today. Not only did I have Del’s knowledge of my identity crisis to stress over, I had the fact that I was dating a prostitute who was both a person of interest in Alvarado’s murder and his former lover. What I didn’t need (but what the universe saw fit to jab my balls with in its quest to see how far I could fall in a week) was a phone call from my father on the way to meet Destiny—or Fate, whichever bitch was playing with my life.
“Glass,” I answered, flipping my visor down against the sun.
“Austin,” my father’s gruff voice grated in my ear, familiar but distant at the same time. “Who is this person I’m hearing about; making you break things off with Angelica?”
I grinned maliciously. “That would be my ho-mo-seckshuul boyfriend. He’s moving in this weekend.”
Silence.
Then, “Don’t be a fool. Think about your future and quit vying for attention. Do you think the FBI will take you knowing you’re…”
“A faggot?” I finished gleefully. Huh. Way more fun than I’d thought it would be. Maybe I’d give him a coronary. “Fudge packer? Homo? Queer? Butt Pirate? Turd Driller? Cum drin—”
“You’re not amusing. You’re just destroying your life to get back at me. Go back to Angelica. She loves you. You love her.”
Why Dad, I thought, you sound almost as if you care. And of course this had nothing to do with the fact that I might make news, right? Austin Glass Homo-extraordinaire Strikes Again. I was sincerely digging ‘Butt Pirate’, but the Homo-extraordinaire sounded like a superhero. How awesome would that be?
“I’m thoroughly embracing the gay right now, Dad. Guess what. I won’t even be the one that gives. I’ll take it, Dad. Right up the ass. And you know what? I’ll like it.” The thought even made me squirm. “I’m probably going to marry him I’ll like it so much. Buy him a boat or an island or just some really kinky butt plugs. Oh look, a homo sex shop. I can sense those now that I’m gay. It’s like a beacon, calling me home. A butt plug beacon. I think I need to stock up on merchandise.” I didn’t even know what a butt plug was. Mostly I was just trying to piss off my father.