“So how goes your new boyfriend?” was one of the first things Josh asked as the waitress showed us to our table and we’d gotten settled.
“Boyfriend?” blurted Carlita, Sven’s girlfriend, as she handed Sven a menu. She leaned forward, her boobs nearly spilling out of her shirt. She was a woman unashamed of her assets. “Ooh, you have a boyfriend?”
“No, he’s not my boyfriend,” I replied, shooting Josh a mean look. “He’s just some guy I hang out with.”
“A friend with benefits?”
“Er, yeah. Kind of.”
“Who is it?” Sven asked, slinging his arm over the back of the booth behind Carlita’s head. She was only five feet tall, and he was a proper Scandinavian six-two, so furniture didn’t work out so well for them when they sat together. “Someone I know?”
“Vaguely. You, uh, remember that show you took us to? You introduced us to the band.”
“Oh yeah, Pugnacious.”
“Peaches is gay. Not sure if you knew that.”
“Yeah. I met his boyfriend once. Blond, tall, super girly?”
“They aren’t dating anymore.”
“Really? Huh.” Sven took a sip of the water the waitress deposited in front of them. “Do you know who broke up with who?”
“Peaches broke up with Eddie.”
“And now he’s hanging with you.”
“Yeah.”
“Thought you two would be an item by now,” Josh said. “You are an incredibly persuasive and insistent person.”
I didn’t know what to say, so I just slumped back in my seat and sipped at my cup of water before grabbing the drinks menu to see what alcohol options were available. I needed some kind of liquor in me, stat. Thankfully everyone was used to me moping around, so no one seemed interested in prying any further. When the waitress stopped by to take orders, I asked for a salad and a margarita.
“Watching your weight?” Josh asked as the waitress walked off.
“Yeah, gotta keep my figure.” I patted my stomach. I didn’t want to admit that I’d ordered salad because it was one of the cheaper options. “I’ll probably steal half of your meal anyway.”
“I would both love and hate that.” Josh sighed. “Why do I have to care so much about what society says is a healthy body? Why can’t I just not think about it?”
“Because you live in Los Angeles and gays are cruel?” Sven said.
“Men are cruel,” Carlita corrected. “All the fat lesbians I know are happy.”
“Nice,” Josh replied, then laughed.
“It’s true!”
“How many fat lesbians do you know?”
“More than you would think. I am very attractive to lesbians.” Carlita puckered her lips and blew a kiss. “They have good taste in women.”
“I’ve never seen a woman hit on you,” Sven said.
“When you’re around they don’t.”
“Like anyone would be intimidated by Sven.” Josh poked a finger in Sven’s direction. “Sure, he’s tall and Nordic. But Swedes haven’t been scary since they were Vikings.”
“It’s all that high quality of life,” Sven replied. “Unlike Americans, we’re too happy and healthy to pick fights with people.”
“Healthy, you say, as you order fried chicken fingers.”
“I’ve acclimated to your barbaric culture.”
The conversation was pretty typical to the type my friends would have over dinner out on a Thursday night, and normally I’d be happy to spend time with them. But I kept looking at my phone, waiting for a response from Peaches. He’d asked me if I wanted to go to his show tomorrow, but we hadn’t spoken much beyond that. I’d made several attempts to start a text conversation, with lukewarm success. Peaches didn’t seem like the texting type.
I was halfway through my margarita when my phone finally vibrated.
Sorry, I’ve been kind of distracted lately.
Why? I immediately fired back. Are you okay?
Sort of, was his response, but then he didn’t follow up, and when I texted back a request for more information, I didn’t get a reply as quickly as I wanted it.
“Is it Apples?” Josh asked in my ear, and I shoved him.
“None of your business.”
“Sure it is.”
“We’re just texting, stop creeping on me.”
“About what?”
“Nothing. Random small talk bullshit.”
“No sexting?”
“No. I don’t sext people when I’m at dinner with my friends. He just wants me to go to his show tomorrow.”
“And? Will you?”
“Course I will.”
“You gonna be a groupie? Wear the band T-shirt and ride in their van?”
“Peaches doesn’t strike me as the type who enjoys groupies. The other guys, maybe. Peaches is too…” I didn’t know how to describe Peaches. He certainly wouldn’t appreciate cute twinks slobbering on him the same way his fellow bandmates seemed to enjoy the hot women who checked them out after the show. Hell, he barely wanted me slobbering on him.
What the fuck was I doing wrong? He was so hot and cold! When we hung out, it seemed like everything was fine and he was really into me. But then he didn’t text me or rush to make plans. And yeah, he invited me to his show, but that was the least he could do. He’d play the show whether or not I was there.
I was used to liking guys more than they liked me. I was a scrawny dude who would never get famous showing off my ass on Instagram, because my ass was barely an ass at all, mostly just a tiny ledge where my back met my leg. I was too feminine for some guys, too crazy for others, too opinionated or too drunk. I also had a tendency to fall too much in love too quickly, and when I did, I could get clingy and annoying. I’d been through this cycle many times before and it still fucking sucked. I hated how it was just the same shit over and over again, like getting punched repeatedly and yet never learning how to duck. It made me angry at Peaches. It made me angry at myself. It was just a fucked up trash can of emotions waiting to be lit on fire.
It hurt too much to hate Peaches, because I also really liked him. So I picked a more convenient target and hated his ex-boyfriend. I’d already decided that all of this was his fault.
“I’m kind of surprised you’re friends with benefits. You’re terrible at that sort of thing,” Josh said.
“What? I am not.”
“You are emotionally involved in everything you do, Justin. You can’t even drive two miles without yelling about traffic.”
“Traffic sucks!”
“Yeah, I’m just saying that you care a lot about everything. That’s who you are and that’s great, but… maybe not for friends with benefits. Be honest: how much do you like this guy?”
I glanced over at Carlita and Sven, but they were having their own conversation and not paying attention to me. “More than I should.”
“But he’s not interested in dating you?”
“I don’t know. I haven’t officially asked him.”
“Why not?”
“Because I feel like he’d say no, and I hate being rejected.”
“Why would he say no?”
“Because he likes his ex still, and he’d tell me it’s not fair to me.”
“It’s not.”
“I don’t fucking care at this point.” I took an angry sip of my margarita, finishing it off. “I just want to stop being jerked around!”
“Have you told him this?” When I didn’t respond, Josh sighed. “People can’t read minds, Justin.”
“I know that. I just…” If I told Peaches how I felt, he’d either freak out and leave or he’d tell me he couldn’t give me what I needed and leave. I didn’t like either option, so it was best to conceal and pretend everything was fine.
“The kind of situations you get yourself into…”
“Don’t lecture me.”
“I’m not lecturing you.” Josh sighed. “I just worry about you, that’s all.”
“Where have I heard that before?”
“Looking after you is a multiple-man job.”
Wonderful. It was nice to know no one could trust me to take care of myself. You become a coke addict and then a miserable depressed mess one time and everyone thinks you’ll always be that way.
“Hey Justin,” Sven said across the table, holding up his phone. “Look at this dog video.”
Thankfully, that ended my quiet conversation with Josh, and I was able to turn my mind to more mundane matters.
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