Mason was bound to find out her secret one way or the other—if not that night then in the coming days. Like she said, it was written right on her Facebook page, in her ‘About me’ section. It was only a matter of time before Mason bothered to take a gander in that direction.
The brunette showed up five minutes early. She was prettier in real life than in her pictures, though she’d clearly put on a touch of weight since taking those pictures. She had a big smile, though her smile showed off a bit too much gum for Ray’s taste. “Ashley, right?” he said.
“Hailey,” she said. And then Ray felt like an idiot. During that long time he sat waiting on the pier, he could have at least looked up her name.
“Sorry about that,” he said. “Hailey—I like that name.”
“That’s a good start,” she said with a giggle. Her giggle wasn’t nearly as cute as Cass’s giggle, but at least it actually belonged to a woman. “So what do you want to do tonight?” she asked.
“I thought we could sit here, have a few drinks, and just talk. It’s a lot cheaper and quieter than going to a bar, and the view is better. You like Coors?” He handed her a can of beer. She looked at it as if she was looking at a can full of poisonous spiders. She cracked it hesitantly and then took a slow seat, a few feet away from Ray. “It’s kind of chilly out,” she said.
“Do you want my sweater?”
“Sure,” she said. So Ray took off his sweater and gave it to her. Then they sat in silence for a minute.
“So you like country music, huh?” he said.
“Yep,” she said.
And that silence returned. He tried to think of something else to say—something to spark the conversation. With Cass, he didn’t have to think so much. He would just mention one little thing and it would turn into an endless conversation. “What kind of movies do you like?”
“I don’t really watch many movies. But I like Disney movies,” she said. And that silence returned for another thirty seconds. She took a long sip from the beer she clearly didn’t like. “What about you? What kind of movies do you like?”
“I like all sorts of stuff. But I really like Wes Anderson movies.”
“Who’s that?”
“Wes Anderson?”
“Yeah. Who is he?”
Ray listed his movies, but Hailey had never heard of any of them. So the conversation went silent again. Ray looked down at his watch, thinking two hours had gone by. But they had only been sitting together for fifteen minutes. Why was it so hard to relate to her? Why couldn’t Ray find that spark that was so easy to find with Cass? “What about sports? Do you like sports?” He looked over at Hailey. She looked at him with a blank stare.
“No, I don’t really like sports. I don’t get the point. But I like reality TV. Do you like the Real Housewives?”
And Ray gave her that same blank expression. “I’ve never seen it. Tell me about it.” He was hoping to get her rolling on a speech, so that he could find some little tidbit to cling onto—one little piece of something they had in common.
“If you haven’t seen it, you wouldn’t get it,” she said. And the conversation fell flat once again. And Ray realized the date was hopeless. He could probably lie and pretend like he cared about the things she liked. He could probably get her drunk enough that she would be willing to go home with him. But what was the point? So he could use her to win some stupid game? It was painfully obvious that Hailey and Ray weren’t going to work out, so Ray stood up and said, “I think I need to be going. I forgot I had something to do.”
Hailey looked up at him with a confused look. “That’s it?” she said.
“Sorry,” Ray said. And then he took off. He needed to act quickly. He needed to stop Mason from finding out about Cass’s secret. He needed to save himself from the humiliation, and he needed to save her from Mason’s tyranny.
CHAPTER IX
Mason wasn’t home, but Paul was, so Ray ran to Paul. “Where’s Mason?” he asked without saying hello.
“Mason? I don’t know. He’s out on a date.”
“Where?” Ray asked.
“I don’t know. Why are you being a weirdo?”
But Ray didn’t have time to explain. He knew that Mason worked quickly. He knew that Mason usually had two or three dates set up in a single night and he liked to play the numbers game. Ray had seen many cellphone videos of Ray fucking girls in restaurant and bar bathrooms, and he didn’t want Cass to be one of those girls.
So he pulled out his phone and dialled Mason’s number. But Mason didn’t pick up. “Where are you?” he sent in a text message. Then he paced around the house, waiting for Mason to reply. He tried to think of Mason’s go-to spots for taking girls on dates.
Paul emerged in the doorway. “Seriously, man, why are you acting like such a spaz right now?” He was snickering.
Ray didn’t know what to tell him. He thought for a moment and then he said, “Mason is out with a girl I know, and I don’t want him to sleep with her.”
Paul just laughed. “Good luck with that,” he said, rolling his eyes. And Ray knew it was true: Mason had a tremendous batting average, sleeping with nearly every girl he went out with. Ray knew that Mason was handsome and fit and well known around town. He knew that girls all over town wanted to sleep with him. What if Cass was no different?
And what if he was offended when he found out about Cass’s secret? What if he hurt her? What if he beat her up and told her never to tell anyone about the date? Mason could have a wild temper, and Ray didn’t know the extent of that temper.
He tried calling Mason again. This time Mason’s phone didn’t even ring—it just went straight to voicemail, as if Mason had blocked Ray’s number. Ray could feel a cold sweat forming on the back of his neck.
So Ray left the house, going to the closest bar to find the cruel womanizer and the woman who had everything to lose. It was a three block run, and it didn’t take Ray more than two minutes. He stormed into the place, past the hostess, and then he started looking around. His heart was pounding, though he wasn’t sure why. “Sir, can I help you?” the nervous hostess asked. She probably thought he was a psychopath looking to shoot a place up.
He looked at each table carefully, ignoring the woman who was trying to do her job. But Ray and Cass weren’t there, so he continued onto the next joint, feeling increasingly nervous. And why was he nervous? Was he worried that Mason would find out that he slept with a transgender? Or was he actually worried about Cass? Did he really think that Mason would do something to her? He probably wouldn’t do anything—he would either cut her off and pretend like she never happened, hoping no one found out that he ever thought she was pretty, or he would sleep with her just for the sake of winning Fuckeries, just like Ray did.
And was that the only reason Ray slept with her? To win some stupid game invented by some stupid jock?
They weren’t at the next place either, so he continued onto the next, and then the next. By the time he reached the fifth bar, his clothes were damp with sweat and his hair was slicked onto his forehead. But Mason and Cass weren’t there either.
And then Ray’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out while many of the bar patrons were staring at him. It was from Paul: “They just got back,” he wrote. So Ray started running. He was twenty blocks away from home, but he didn’t stop for a breath of air. He just kept running, hoping to get home before Mason got her down to her panties. He was starting to slow down, his legs becoming full of exhaustion, and then he saw the house materializing in the distance. So he started into a full sprint.
He pushed open the door and looked around frantically. The house was quiet, save for music coming from upstairs. Ray ran up the stairs and went straight to Mason’s bedroom. He didn’t knock before opening the door.
Cass and Mason both turned and looked at him with wide eyes. They were sitting on the edge of Mason’s bed, still clothed. “Stop!” Ray managed to say before exhaustion forced him to catch his breath.
“What the hell is your problem?” asked Mason.
“Ray?” Cass said.
“Oh, that’s right—you two know each other. Cass was just telling me when we pulled up to the house.” He turned to Cass with a big grin. “You said you knew one of my roommates, you didn’t say which one.” Then, waving a hand behind Cass’s back, Mason motioned Ray to get the hell out. But Ray didn’t budge.
“Don’t sleep with him. He’s a monster.”
Mason laughed nervously. “What are you talking about? Aren’t you breaking the rules here, Ray?” He raised his eyebrows high. It was against the rules of Fuckeries to interfere with the other participants.
“I don’t care. You can’t have her. He’s just using you, Cass. Don’t let him use you.”
Cass’s lips parted but she said nothing. “I’m so sorry about this,” Mason said. “He’s just an idiot. Go on, Ray. Get out of here.”
“No—I’m staying. He doesn’t actually like you. He just wants to win Fuckeries—it’s a stupid game we play where we get points for sleeping with girls.”
“I don’t know what he’s talking about,” Mason said.
“Yes you do, you liar.”
“So when I was with you, was that just for this game?” Cass asked. Her face was white.
“No—I mean, yes, it was, but I didn’t want it to be like that. I’m done with the stupid game. I’m done playing it. I hate it and I’ve always hated it.”
“You just hate it because you always lose.” Mason turned to Cass. “But seriously, babe. That’s not what this is about. I really like you. I really think we have a connection.”
“Bullshit, you do!” Ray snapped. “What’s her favourite band? And her favourite colour? Where did she go to high school? And her favourite food?”
“You’re nuts,” Mason said. “Now get out of my room. Don’t you have some dishes you need to be cleaning or something?”
Ray’s heart was pounding. He couldn’t leave that room. He couldn’t let Cass be another victim of Fuckeries. He couldn’t let Mason ruin her the way he ruined so many girls before her. “Cass, come with me. We’ll go get sushi.”
“You never messaged me back,” she said with a broken voice.
“I know, and that was a big, big mistake. I thought about it and I want to be with you. I don’t care about your whole… you know…”
“Her whole what?” Mason asked.
And Cass was silent. “I don’t know if I believe you. You’re probably just trying to stop him from getting points in your stupid game. That’s all this is, isn’t it?” She stood up. Her face was red now and it looked like she was about to cry.
“Cass—I’m serious. I don’t care about the game and I don’t care about what you used to be. I want to be with you. Give me a chance. Please.”
Cass walked to the door but Ray blocked her path. “Move,” she said. Ray hesitated. He knew it wasn’t right to close her in that room, but he didn’t want to lose his chance.
“I like you,” he said.
“And I liked you. Now move,” she said.
Ray stepped aside and Cass skirted past. She made it a few feet and then she stopped and looked back. “You weren’t even really a virgin, were you?” she said.
And then Ray’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t admit his virginity in front of Mason, but if he lied, then he would lose Cass. He had to pick one. “I was a virgin. You were my first.”
She remained still, unsure of whether to believe him or not. Then Ray heard Mason laughing behind him. “You’re a virgin?” he said. But Ray just ignored him.
“Give me another chance,” Ray said to Cass.
And then, for a brief second, Cass cracked a smile. Maybe she believed him just enough that she would be willing to give him that little chance. Maybe she wouldn’t walk out that door and leave him wondering what could have been. “You really don’t care that I used to be a man?” she asked.
Ray’s heart skipped a beat and then fluttered around in his chest. Now Mason was silent, not sure whether to be outraged, embarrassed, or hysterical. “What the fuck did you just say?” he said, but Cass just ignored him.
“I don’t care at all,” Ray said. He didn’t have to force the big smile that was now on his face. He watched as Cass’s eyes began to glow, and then he opened up his arms and she jumped into them, wrapped herself around him with the biggest hug she could make. “Well maybe I can give you another chance,” she said. “But if I send you a message, you have to answer it.”
“Deal,” he said. And then he kissed her, and this time there were no reservations. He didn’t feel like he was doing something wrong and he couldn’t feel any confused fluttering in the depths of his gut. Everything about her seemed right. So what if she had a cock? So what if she grew up as a boy? It made no difference: she was a woman now, and that’s all that mattered.
And from that day on, Ray won every single game of Fuckeries, because there were no rules against fucking the same girl every week. Ray was getting anal almost every day, more than quadrupling Mason’s best ever score on a weekly basis. It was only a month before the guys decided to kick Ray out of the game, but he didn’t care because he was moving out, finding a place with Cass: something cute and quaint where they could be happy together, far away from the judgement and snickering of football jocks—somewhere Ray could explore his lover’s body without worrying someone was listening at the door.
With Cass, Ray was happy, and everything made perfect sense.
THE END
THE EASTER BUNNY
Charlie, who has been struggling to keep up with his bills, has never paid much attention to his quiet roommate, Susie. She’s hardly ever home, and when she is, she’s locked away in her bedroom. Charlie has never even thought about what she might be doing in there, until a friend from out of town catches a glimpse of her and recognizes her as a popular webcam girl.
Charlie does some searching while she’s out of the house, and he finds out that it’s true—and she’s been making a ton of money doing it. Now, Susie is on her way out of town for a few weeks, and Charlie has an idea to get a piece of the pie.
CHAPTER I
Charlie liked living with his roommate, Susie. He was nervous when a young woman replied to his roommate wanted ad—worried she would be messy and always partying—but she turned out to be the quietest, most invisible roommates Charlie could hope for. She was always travelling for work or travelling to visit friends and family. And when she was home, she was always in her room, minding her own business.
Charlie had no idea what Susie did for a living, or where she went when she was visiting her family and friends, or what she was doing in her bedroom during the rare evenings she was home, but he didn’t care so he never asked. And for three years, he liked it that way: he minded his own business and she minded her own business. It was the perfect roommate scenario.
Though the perfect roommate scenario ended one evening while one of Charlie’s friends was visiting from out of town. He was crashing on Charlie’s couch for a few days, in town to see a band that Charlie had never heard of. Everything was going fine, and then Charlie went across the street to buy some fresh milk. When he returned to the apartment, his friend was wide-eyed and awkward. “Is there a pub around here—somewhere we can talk in private?” he said, twitching as if he’d just done three lines of cocaine.
“Why? What’s going on?” Charlie said.
“We just need to talk in private. I can’t tell you here.”
So they went down the street to the pub, even though it was only 11:00 AM. Charlie’s friend ordered himself a pint of beer, so Charlie did the same. “What the hell’s gotten into you?” Charlie asked.
“Your roommate is a cam whore,” he said, still with his wide eyes, as if he hadn’t blinked.
“A what?” Charlie asked.
“She takes her clothes off and touches herself in front of her webcam, for money. She came out while you were down at the store.” His hands were trembling.
But Charlie didn’t believe him.
“She came out and told you this? Or you saw her doing this cam whore thing while I was out?”
“No, no. I’ve seen her before. I used to watch her. Her private shows are expensive because she does crazy things. The walls in her bedroom are a baby blue colour, right?”
“You went in there?” Charlie asked.
“No, I’ve seen them on her camera, you dunce! You’re living with a prostitute.”
Charlie felt a cold trembling creeping down his spine. The walls in Susie’s room were indeed baby blue. Though it was possible he just saw into her room while he was walking down the hallway—though Susie never left her door open, even when she was just darting down the hallway to use the bathroom. But it was possible that Charlie’s friend snuck into her room while she was using the bathroom—but why would he do it? He wasn’t the type to pull pranks or to invade girls’ privacy. He was an honest guy—honest enough to admit that he got off by watching cam whores. “You’re telling me that you didn’t know this?” he said with even wider eyes.
“I didn’t know,” Charlie said. “It—It can’t be true. She’s nice—and quiet. She minds her business. And she’s always out for work.”
“She has another room. It’s like this kid’s room filled with stuffed animals. It must be a set in a warehouse or something. She only does the blue bedroom on weekend evenings. The lighting isn’t as good.”
“How do you know all of this?” Charlie asked.
“I told you, you dunce! I used to watch her show all the time. She does things—things you wouldn’t believe.” He leaned over the table and then looked around to make sure no one was listening. The pub was empty. “She once got half of a baseball bat into her pussy.”
“That’s impossible,” Charlie said. “She’s hardly five feet tall.”
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