I wanted to talk to Duncan, but he was hard to track down. He wouldn’t answer my texts and I thought it would be much too crazy to show up at his apartment like a stalker, so instead I just sat in my car or at work and thought up possible ways a conversation with him could go.

 I gave up after a week went by because by that time I’d had some time to cool down and process everything. Thad made a great confidant because he was always there to talk me off a ledge. Sometimes I thought he was way too forgiving, but he made some solid points. Duncan was no longer in my life and I couldn’t control his behavior.

            “You can’t obsess over these things,” Thad instructed in his slow, steady manner that always calmed me. “I doubt this is about you, and I doubt he thought about it half as much as you’re thinkin’ about it now.”

            That was true. So I promised Thad I’d compartmentalize it for now so that I could move on with my life. Unfortunately our conversation didn’t go anywhere after that, because Thad needed some sleep. The distance was already giving me a case of serious blue balls. I’d tried a few times to initiate sexting with Thad but he didn’t seem to get into it that much, if his lackluster texts back were anything to go by. Sexting with someone who had no interest in sexting was the exact opposite of hot, so I gave up. If I brought it up, I know he’d apologize and feel bad, which was also not hot. So instead I watched porn and dealt with things myself.

            It did make me think about some of the text exchanges I’d shared with Duncan though. Even though he was a prick, Duncan gave not a second thought about sending a dirty text in the middle of the day, even a picture or two. If I could only merge Duncan’s sexual prowess with my boyfriend’s emotional intelligence and sensitivity. Maybe in a few years Thad would get there. He was still eighteen.

            I had decided to pop into a gay bar in West Hollywood for a much-needed drink when I spotted Duncan drinking at the bar and being the only person in LA who could wear faux leather pants and look good in them. He was wearing a jean jacket with little silver studs on the epaulets, like this was the 80’s or something.

            I walked up to the bar and plopped down on the empty stool next to him. He glanced at me briefly, giving me a raised eyebrow before turning away.

            “What was that look about?” I asked.

            “Here to yell at me?” Duncan asked, sipping from his whiskey glass.

            “I came here for a drink. I’m not stalking you.”

            “Hmm.” Duncan leaned an elbow on the bar before fully facing me. “I ignored your texts for a reason.”

            “Afraid of the consequences of your actions?”

            “No, I’ve just got bigger problems in my life.”

            “Like what?”

            Duncan didn’t answer. I didn’t expect him to. He had some serious boundaries erected around his personal life, boundaries only Josh had managed to worm his way through.

            “Can you at least apologize?”

            “For what?”

            “Don’t act like you didn’t do a single shitty thing.”

            “Sounds like I asked your friend if he wanted to have sex and he said yes. How is that on me?”

            “You didn’t have to ask him if he wanted to have sex with you.”

            “He didn’t have to be so into me.”

            “You knew he’d be vulnerable to your charms.”

            Duncan rolled his eyes. “He’s a grown ass man. He can decide who he wants to fuck. He’s not my helpless victim.”

            “I don’t want you hurting him. If this is at all about me—”

            Duncan showed the first signs of real annoyance. “This is not about you. Not everything is about you, despite how you act all the time.”

            “You never let me make it about you. I don’t know anything about you.”

            Duncan spun on his stool until his knee bounced against my thigh. “Listen, Justin. We had a fun time fucking around, but that’s all it was. I don’t owe you anything, not even an apology. I’m sorry if you read more into our relationship than what it was, but that’s on you, not me.”

            “Don’t—don’t start gaslighting me,” I snapped back, trying to keep my voice down so that I didn’t draw the shirtless bartender’s ire.

            “Oh, now I’m gaslighting you?”

            “Yes, you are! You’re trying to convince me that what we had meant absolutely nothing to you and that I’m so crazy for ever thinking that it did when I know for a fact that you at least cared a little. You were always making snitty little comments about Thad and being unnecessarily cruel—”

            “You think I’m jealous?”

            “I don’t know. All I know is that you didn’t have to act like that. You didn’t have to be so hot and cold if it was just about sex. I’ve fucked enough guys to know when it’s just about sex.”

            Duncan finished off the rest of his drink and slapped a bill down on the bar top. “I’m leaving.”

            But I wasn’t letting him get away that easy, because I wanted something from him—a sign, a break in the cool-guy façade that would make him human after all. I wasn’t sure why I cared so much. Maybe I was crazy. Maybe what I’d experienced was built up in my head as something more. But I’d fucked guys who didn’t give a shit about me, and Duncan hadn’t been one of them.

            I followed Duncan out onto the sidewalk, where I found him trying to light a cigarette.

            “You don’t give up, do you?” Duncan asked evenly, as if he’d expected me to trail him out here. “What do you want, huh? I mean, what do you really want?”

            “I want you to stop acting like you’re so above it all for one second of your life.”

            “Why does it bother you so much?”

            Why did it bother me? Why was I here? What could Duncan offer that would make me feel better about the situation? Maybe it was because I’d dated so many guys who acted just like him, and since I couldn’t get an apology from them, I wanted it from him. Sorry for acting like I didn’t give a shit about you in public. Sorry I called you clingy when you just wanted a basic level of connection. Sorry for acting like you were too much when in fact I offered you too little.

            “Can I ask you a personal question?” I asked instead of answering him.

            “No, but I’m sure you’ll ask it anyway.”

            “Have you dated anyone after Lily? Like, a legit girlfriend or boyfriend?”

            Duncan scowled, which I expected. “I’m really regretting telling you that shit.”

            “Why?”

            “Because I don’t need you to psychoanalyze me.”

            “I’m not trying to do that. I just…” I just what? I didn’t even know. I wanted to figure him out. I wanted to know the truth, because I didn’t believe his bullshit. I wanted to know why he thought it was appropriate to sleep with my best friend. I wanted to know how he could so consistently hurt me and yet claim he didn’t give a shit. I wanted to know why I continued to believe there was something worthwhile inside of him when all he ever did was prove to me how beyond saving he was.

            Duncan stared at me, waiting. When I didn’t answer, he took another drag from his cigarette and shook his head, turning his gaze to the traffic rolling past. “Did Josh tell you he’s pals with my sister now?”

            “He mentioned it, yeah.”

            “She likes him a lot, which kinda surprised me. Asel’s a bit of a misanthrope, like me. She doesn’t trust people much. But she trusts him.”

            “That’s called the Josh Effect,” I muttered, and Duncan chuckled weakly.

            “He’s a good guy,” Duncan said after a long silence. “Even I have to admit that. Kinda shocked you two get along, actually. You’re pretty different.”

            “His friendship with your sister proves that Josh is drawn to broken and fucked up people. He has serious parenting instincts.”

            Duncan nodded but said nothing. For a while he stared down at the sidewalk, and I watched his profile, wishing there was more of an expression to read.  

            “I knew I was crossing a line,” he muttered eventually. “With Josh, I mean. I don’t drag guys like him into my shit, and I fucked up. So there. That’s your apology.”

            “Why go after him in the first place?”
            Duncan flicked some cigarette ash. “I tend to act first and think later.”

            That was something I could identify with. “Josh told me that guys that look like you don’t usually go for guys that look like him.”

            “His looks have nothing to do with why I fucked up.” Now Duncan’s gaze on me was sharp. “I think he vastly underestimates his sexual appeal.”

            “That’s what I tell him, but he won’t listen to me.”

            “I went after Josh because it was easy. He was there because he babysat my niece. I knew he was into me, and I tend to go for the submissive types, so I thought why not. That’s as deep as it gets.”

            I nodded. I wasn’t sure if I totally believed him, but I didn’t want to press. “Did you even consider how it might make me feel?”

            “Not really. I never thought you’d find out. Besides, you had your boyfriend, so why would you care?”

            “Because I really liked you, Duncan. I don’t know why, because you’re so emotionally inaccessible, but I did. You had to know that, and yet you fucked my best friend anyway.”

            “You have a boyfriend though.”

            “That doesn’t change how I felt before I had my boyfriend.”

            Duncan shrugged, which pissed me off. I was my angriest with Duncan whenever he acted like he didn’t give a shit. Maybe he saw my frustration on my face, because he followed up his nonchalance with a reply. “It’s not my fault you were in love with me.”

            “I wasn’t in love with you. I didn’t say that.”

            “But why should I have to change my behavior because of how you feel? That’s not my issue.”

            “Because you’re supposed to care about people! Because that’s basic empathy! If I’d thought you were really into me, I wouldn’t have gone and fucked your best friend after you started dating someone else. That’s a shitty thing to do to someone. I’m sorry I have to explain this to you, because I shouldn’t have to. You should just know it’s wrong. So either you’re utterly lacking in compassion or you did all of this knowing it would hurt me and simply didn’t care. Or maybe you did and you wanted to hurt me, I don’t know.”

            Duncan sighed. “It’s not that I don’t care.”

            “That’d be news to me.”

            “I’m just tired of getting invested in things and then being disappointed. Like every time my sister tells me she’s clean. I have to accept the fact that one day she’s gonna kill herself, and there’s nothing I can do to stop it.” Duncan looked down at the cigarette in his hand, as if confused to why it was there. Then he dropped it and ground it into the sidewalk with the ball of his foot.

            “I’m sorry about your sister. I was addicted to cocaine in high school. I get it.”

            “Cocaine is a different monster than heroin.”

            “The point is, a lot of people gave up on me like you gave up on your sister. My mom was the only one who didn’t, and it worked out for me in the end.”

            “Like I said, heroin’s different.” Duncan ran a hand through his hair. “I don’t want to talk about this shit.”

            “No, clearly emotions make you uncomfortable.”

            “You know what? Fine. I’ll tell you what you wanna hear so badly.” Duncan turned to face me, face pinched. “I did like you. You’re hot as fuck. The sex was great. You’re fun to hang and smoke pot with. Maybe it would have gone somewhere, maybe not. I don’t fucking know, I don’t have a crystal ball. But then you met your 15-year-old albino redneck boyfriend and I got over it. There. You happy now?”

            “If you liked me, why did you blow me off so much? Why did you not answer my texts for days and always act so busy?”

            “I don’t know. Force of habit. I always keep people at a distance.”

            “To me it seemed like you thought it was a game. Like you wanted to see how long it would be before I begged.”

            “It’s mostly me just being bad at relationships where you fuck more than once.”

            “You’re unbelievable.” I paced forward, then back. Moments before, all I’d wanted was to crack open Duncan’s mind and look inside. But even if there was a hurt soul in there, it was coated in a thick layer of apathy and selfishness. I had no doubt that Duncan’s behavior was influenced by his failed past relationships, but a lot of it was also inconsiderate and mean, and for no damn reason except that Duncan didn’t care what collateral damage he caused in his efforts to push people away.

            “I was a real dick at eighteen, but I grew the fuck up,” I told him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “For all my faults, I don’t mess around with people’s feelings. And you know what, Duncan? As much shit as you talk about my albino redneck boyfriend, he’s always answered my texts. He’s caring and compassionate and he looks after me. He doesn’t engage in this stupid game you’re always doing, and I never have to doubt my own reality. So make fun of him all you want, but he’s a better person than you’ve ever been.”

            I expected some of what I said to land, but Duncan’s expression was flat and unreadable, just like always. Throwing insults at him was like tossing a pebble into a very deep well—you never saw the surface ripple or the water splash. Yelling at Duncan was so unsatisfying because I never saw its effect on him. Everything was hidden away somewhere—where, I had yet to find out.

               “Good-bye, Duncan,” I muttered, turning on my heel and marching off. As expected, he let me walk away. I was so done with Duncan Shalamov. It was time to move on.