Tell Me It's Real

by TJ Klune

“But she said yes. She said yes with this little laugh she has that sounds like bells. She said yes and we got married down at city hall and she moved in the next day. A week later, she moved out.”

  “He was a bit of a slob,” Mom said. “And a jerk. He wanted things done his way and on his timeline. And, of course, that didn’t work for me. At all. I was used to living my own life, and suddenly I was thrust in with this man that I really didn’t know. So one day while he was in class, I packed up and moved back home.

  “How long did that last?” I asked, unsure why I’d never heard this part of their lives before.

  “Six months,” Dad said. “I was devastated when I came home, but I understood. Or at least that’s what I tried to tell myself. I went over to Nana’s house and begged her to come back but she said no. I asked her if she wanted an annulment, and she said no to that too. I asked her what she wanted. She told me she wanted to date.”

  “We’d already gotten the falling in love part out of the way,” Mom explained. “That was the hard part, and we got it done before most people would. What was left was just learning about each other to make sure the love we had was something that would last. Sometimes it’s enough to love someone just the way they are. Other times, you have to work at it so that it doesn’t fade away.”

  “Why are you telling me this?” I asked quietly. “Why now?”

  “Because you love him,” Dad said. “Even with all the little voices inside your head saying it’s too soon, that it’s not enough, that he’s so much better than you are, you love him. And he loves you. And you know it as well as I do. Someone who tells you that they’re going to fall in love with you, or that they’re partway there, is already there.”

  “But you’re not letting yourself believe it,” Mom said, admonishing me slightly. “You’re so used to what you had before that this is scaring you. And it’d be easier to walk away. It would be easier to pretend this never happened. But the things we want in life will never be easy, and if you want it, if you really do, then you need to fight for it with everything you’ve got. It’s only yours to lose, Paul. Only you can make it go away.”

  “It’s like all of you are after-school-specialing on me,” I groaned. “I feel so cheap and used and covered in grossness, like some twink after a bareback gang bang.”

  “And how would you know what that feels like?” Dad asked. “Is there something we should know?”

  “Not at all,” I said quickly. “Just an expression gay guys use.”

  They looked to Sandy, who shrugged. “I understood what he meant.”

  I like you, I mouthed to him because I wasn’t quite back to love yet. He rolled his eyes.

  “So what now?” Nana asked. “I feel like this intervention was modestly successful. I don’t think Paul will be doing meth again anytime soon.”

  “I wasn’t on meth!”

  “Well, if this were a romantic comedy, this would be the part where Paul would go out searching for the love of his life,” Sandy said. “There’d be really cheesy music playing in the background while he went over to his boyfriend’s apartment to apologize for being an idiot and to hug him and kiss him and then get down to bidness.”

  “Oh my,” Mom said. “I think we’ve been watching the wrong movies.”

  “By ‘bidness’, do you mean Paul would be a pony again?” Dad asked. “I must admit, I’m fascinated by that idea now.” He glanced back over to my mom. “We should get a riding crop.”

  “Deal,” Mom said.

  “I’m not a fucking pony!”

  “Language,” Dad scolded.

  “I should just call him first,” I said.

  “No!” everyone said back.

  “It’s not spontaneous enough,” Sandy said with a sigh.

  “It has to be face to face,” Mom said, a wistful look in her eye.

  “He has to see that you mean it,” Dad said, patting my arm.

  “You should probably dress sexy,” Nana said.

  “I’m not going over to his house if I don’t even know if he’s there. I don’t want to have to stand outside his apartment and have one of his neighbors call the police three hours later because I look creepy and bored. And lonely.”

  “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.

&nbs
p; 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.

  “Paul,” he said tightly.

  I pushed past him. “Sorry, didn’t mean to interrupt the love fest. Darren! So nice to see you here. Get your ass outside so I can beat the shit out of you. Now.”

  Darren eyes went comically wide. “Excuse me?”

  I got right up in his face. “You and me? We’re going to duel.”

  He snorted. “What the hell did you smoke?”

  “A can of whoop ass,” I told him. Then I thought about what I’d just said. “Wait… that didn’t make sense. Quick, ask me again. I can do this.” I popped my neck and hopped on both feet like I was a boxer. Gettin’ loose. Gettin’ loose.

  “What?”

  “Ask me again what I smoked.”

  “I don’t… what are you talking about?”

  “Just do it!”

  “Okay? What did you smoke?”

  “No, you have to say it like you did before.”

  “How did I say it before?”

  “You were slightly amused, sarcastic and angry. I think. And you have to say ‘hell’ again too. Makes it sound more hard core when there’s cussing.”

  “Saying ‘hell’ is cussing?”

  “Yeah. Well, my dad says it is.”

  “You are so weird.”

  “You and me?” I growled at him. “We’re going to duel.”

  He stared at me.

  “Say your line!” I hissed at him.

  “Er. What the hell did you smoke?”

  “Nothing,” I said grandly. “Because I don’t smoke because smoking kills five hundred thousand Americans every year. Dammit! That didn’t make sense either! Why can’t I think of really awesome comeback lines?”

  “Oh, is that what we’re doing? Do it to me now. I’ve got a good one. I’ll start.” Darren took a step back and puffed up his chest. “You and me?” he snapped. “We’re going to duel.”

  I got a little scared at that. “What the hell did you smoke?” I squeaked.

  “Your dad’s pole,” he snarled at me. Then he grinned. “How was that? I’ve got some other ones if you—”

  I punched him in the mouth.

  I didn’t mean to. Honestly. I didn’t even realize my fist was cocked back behind my head until it was too late. My arm shot forward and my knuckles collided with his lips and I remember thinking this was probably not my best idea while his head snapped back. And as much as I’m sure it hurt him, holy fuck, the pain that shot through my hand was wicked.

  “Son of a bitch!” I howled, holding my hand, sure it was going to fall off.

  “You just punched me!” Darren said, covering his mouth with his hand.

  “Is your face made of metal? Are you the fucking Terminator? Did Skynet take over and I didn’t know about it? All my bones are broken because of your face!” My hand felt like it was on fire, and I was pretty sure that bone chips were breaking off into my bloodstream and working their way up to my brain where they would become lodged, eventually leading to my death.

  “What the hell, Paul?” Vince said angrily. “Why did you hit him?” He had his hands curled at his sides like he was getting ready to take me on as well. I wondered if I still had fight left in my left hand, because my right was useless.

  “I saw you,” I said, all rational reason and thought pretty much done for the day. “Through the window! He was all up on your nut sac and he wants to bone you and you’ve been Freddie Prinze Junioring me this whole time, haven’t you!”

  “You want to bone me?” Vince asked Darren, a slightly disgusted look on his face. “Dude.”

  “What?” Darren shouted. “No, I don’t want to fucking bone you! That’s gross!”

  Now I was offended for Vince. And myself, since that reflected on my taste. “He’s not gross!” I yelled back, stepping in between the two of them, protecting Vince from Darren’s dangerous libido. “He’s pretty fucking awesome and you can’t have him! He’s mine and you need to stay the fuck away.”

  “Paul,” Darren said, “Vince is my brother.”

  “I don’t fucking care if he’s your mom, you still can’t fuck him, becau—Wait. What?”

  “Vince is my brother,” he said again, and it made less sense the second time. He looked over my shoulder at Vince. “And I do not want to bone you. You’re not that hot.”

  “Thank God,” Vince sighed. “I thought you wanted to have sex with me and I didn’t know how to tell you that incest is not something that turns me on. Well, twins, maybe.”

  “Twins turn you on?” I asked him, shocked. “That’s… ew.” But inwardly I cursed that I did not have a twin right at that moment. Not that I would have done anything with said twin. That would be wrong. Maybe.

  He shrugged. “One of those things. Kind of like your box of toys hiding under your bed.”

  “Yeah, but dildos aren’t related! And how the fuck are you brothers? I’ve never heard that before. Anytime you were mentioned, the news said you were the only child.”

  Darren smiled, but there was no humor in it. “Yeah, well, you probably wouldn’t have heard that, would you? I’m the deep, dark secret.”

  “I am so confused,” I said. Today was just another day in the weirdest week in the history of all weeks.

  “Vince’s dad is my dad.”

  “Okay?

  “His mom is not my mom.”

  “But… not his mom?”

  Darren shook his head.

  I thought on it. “And how old are you?”

  “Twenty-six.”

  “And Vince is twenty-eight. So… oh. Oh shit.”

  “You got it?”

  I looked at Vince. “Your dad cheated on your mom?” I sounded aghast. And she stayed with him? And she sided with him over her own son? Suddenly, all the goodwill that I had built up toward Lori Taylor collapsed. I was once again angry with a dying woman. I hated the feeling, but I think I might have hated her just a little bit more. I tried to keep from showing it on my face. This wasn’t supposed to be about me. At least that’s what I kept telling myself.

  He smiled tiredly at me before it faded. “What are you doing here, Paul?”

  “I’m pretty sure I came to get you back, but now I don’t even know if you went anywhere? Did you? Or, if you did, if I had any right to come after you. Did I?” I sounded idiotic, but I couldn’t stop it.

  He gave me a weird look. “You came after me even though I told you to stay away?”

  “Er. Yes?” Stop sounding like you’re asking questions! “Yes. That’s exactly what I did. You see, my parents, Nana, Sandy, and Wheels all had an intervention after my dad unscrewed my door. Nana already had a speech written out in case I got addicted to meth which, to be honest, I never really thought about, but now that she mentioned it, I can’t stop thinking about it. Uh. Wait. Not that I want to do meth or anything, just like… you know… what would I be like on meth? I don’t even k
now what meth does to you. Is it like bath salts? Does it turn you into a zombie and you go around eating other people’s faces? I don’t think I’d make a very good zombie because I get really grossed out by the sight of blood and the thought of eating someone else makes me queasy. As it rightly should. So, I guess the point of this, which I hope to arrive at soon because I can’t seem to shut my mouth if my life depended on it, is that I’m not a zombie. I’m not addicted to meth. I’m addicted to you and I don’t want you to go anywhere without me again.”

  Silence. Blessed silence. Prolonged silence. Awkward silence. Excruciating silence.

  Then:

  Vince made a noise almost like a sob. “And you wonder why I—” He stopped himself before he finished that sentence, and I literally almost shat myself thinking of the possible ways it could have ended.

  Here’s what my mind came up with:

  1) “And you wonder why I think you’re insane? Did you just hear yourself talk? Paul, this is so over, it’s not even funny. Get out of my life. I hate your face.”

  2) “And you wonder why I was trying to get up on my brother? Because the idea of incest is more appealing than being with you ever again. I was using my brother to wash the memory of you from my head because I’m that grossed out by you.”

  3) “And you wonder why I didn’t tell you about my parents? I’m so embarrassed by you that I couldn’t ever imagine them meeting you. Oh, and by the way, I faked all my orgasms with you.”

  4) “And you wonder why I decided to Freddie Prinze Junior you? You just came from an intervention at your house and are standing in the middle of my apartment after you just punched my boyfriend/brother Darren, asking me to get back together with you. What part of that makes you think I would ever get in your mangina again? You were a bet, Paul. You were nothing but a bet.”

  5) “And you wonder why I think you’ll be alone forever? No one can handle your crazy, Paul. No one. Especially not me.”

  I almost begged him to finish the thought, but I didn’t think I wanted to hear the answer. I’d pretty much embarrassed the crap out of myself (I punched Darren, for fuck’s sake; I punched the Homo Jock King!), and I didn’t know what else there was to say. Opening my mouth seemed to have gotten me in a shitload of trouble, and I didn’t want to hurt anyone anymore.