Tell Me It's Real(121)

“His car was there when we drove by,” Mom said without a hint of guilt. “So most likely he’s already home.”

I stared at them. They stared back.

“This isn’t like some fucking romantic comedy,” I said finally, grasping at my only and final excuse.

“Why?” Sandy asked.

“Because, this was just a fight. I think.” I hope. “We haven’t done the whole clichéd big misunderstanding, breakup thing before we get back together. That always happens before things get better. I don’t want it to get to that. I just… I can’t.”

“Maybe this time will be different,” Mom said.

“Or maybe it won’t,” Dad said. “Maybe this was your big breakup. Maybe it won’t work out. The point is that you’ll never know unless you try.”

“That’s reassuring,” I muttered.

“And you’re going whether you like it or not,” Nana said. “Even if I have to drag your ass there myself. Or maybe I could just call him for you right now?” She pulled out her phone. I made a lunge for her, but Mom and Dad traitorously held me back by my arms.

“I will call him,” Nana said.

“Why is everyone threatening me with phone calls today?” I growled.

“Because that’s the only thing you understand,” Sandy said.

“Oh, look,” Nana said. “I just hit another button.”

“You don’t even have his phone number,” I smirked, calling her bluff.

She read it off. She had his phone number.

“Oh sweat balls,” I mumbled, knowing I’d lost. “Fine. Jesus Christ.”

“I’m pretty sure I want to hug all of you right now,” Sandy gushed.

Gross. “I’m leaving before there’s hugging. I don’t think I want to drown in the sap anymore. This has been enough family time to last me the rest of my life. Don’t touch me.”

But, of course, as soon as I said it, I was surrounded. It was pretty fucking lame.

Sort of.





CUE the cheesy music.

I drove faster than I probably should have. I was nervous as all hell. All I wanted to do was to have Vince look at me and tell me he loved me just so I could say it back. I wanted to protect him from all the shit that was about to happen to him. I wanted to make everything better so he wouldn’t have to be upset ever again. Unlikely? Probably. Unreasonable? Sure. People do the stupidest things when they’re in love, no question. And while I still doubted myself, I don’t think I doubted him.

Well, not until I pulled up to his apartment at least.

And got out of my car.

And started walking toward his front door.

And looked in the big window in his living room.

And saw him up against a wall, his head rocked back, eyes closed, mouth slack.

And saw the Homo Jock King wrapped around him, his face buried in Vince’s neck, his body molded into Vince’s, pressing him against the wall.

And saw Vince’s arms around Darren, rubbing his back, up and down.

Yeah. There was the doubt right fucking there. A whole shitload of it.

My heart broke. And I turned to walk away.





Chapter 18


The Clichéd Part Near The End Where We Break Up





I MADE it back to my car, numb. I knew it had been too good to be true. I knew that I wasn’t the type Vince went for. I knew he’d been full of shit. I knew he’d been Freddie Prinze Junioring me this whole time. I knew he’d never wanted me to begin with. I was too fat. I was too wary. I was too sarcastic. I was awkward and clumsy and didn’t have the best hair or teeth. I didn’t have abs and I didn’t have a fourteen-inch cock. I worked a stupid job and I lived in a stupid house with my stupid two-legged dog. I was bland. Boring. Ordinary. I was Paul Auster and I was nothing.

But that look….

That look on his face when he’d given me a star, nervous and shy.

That look on his face as he lowered himself onto me, filled with wonder.

I got angry.

Then I got possessive.

Then I said “balderdash” really loudly for some reason.

Then I almost got in the car and drove away.

Then I stopped myself.

Then I knew I wasn’t going down without a fight.

I’d take Darren on if I had to.

I’d show Vince. I’d show him why he belonged with me.

I’d fight the Homo Jock King. I’d duel for the chance to win Vince’s hand. Ten paces at dawn with a pistol. Or a sword. Or my fists. Whatever.

“Fuck this noise,” I said, turning back around.





Chapter 19


The Non-Clichéd Part Where I Go After What’s Mine





AND my anger/bravery/awesomeness didn’t even deflate when Vince opened his door after I’d pounded on it, looking less than pleased to see me. I almost felt bad for disrupting his foreplay, but then I realized I didn’t feel bad about that at all.