by T. J. Klune
She blanched. “I don’t know that I can—”
“What is your name, baby doll?” I asked.
“Tracey.”
“Tracey,” I purred. “What a lovely name. Tracey. Just… rolls right of the tongue. Now, Tracey. This is very, very important to me.”
“I can see that,” Tracey said. “Because you’re breathing right on my face.”
“Exactly,” I said. “I can also make it worth your while.”
I snapped once.
“God, I really fucking hate you guys so fucking much,” Paul muttered as he shuffled forward. He reached into a pocket on the muumuu and pulled out a wad of bills before handing it to Tracey.
“This is for you,” I said. “Recompense for your cooperation.”
“Wow,” Tracey said. “There’s, like, six dollars here. And a… button? No, never mind. It’s a Lifesaver.”
“No one carries cash anymore, Tracey,” I said. “Do we have a deal?”
“Sure,” she said, though I thought it was probably to get us to stop talking to her. That was fine with me.
She led us to a table in the back, near some fake plants that provided a bit of camouflage from the rest of the restaurant. I pointed at a table about ten feet away, and Tracey agreed to seat Darren and Caleb there upon arrival, while maintaining her silence. I didn’t even have to threaten her, which was nice. Six dollars and an old lady’s Lifesaver can apparently go a long way. I’d have to remember that for the future.
My phone buzzed again with yet another message as we were handed the menus. I thought about ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of me. I scrolled through the messages from last night and this morning.
Where did you go?
Did you leave?
What the hell
Sandy, you better not be gone, I swear to god
Paul said you left
What do you mean brunch is canceled?
Sandy
Seriously, stop being an asshole
I DIDN’T DO ANYTHING
Okay, I’ve slept on it. I still didn’t do anything
I’m coming over later and I’m not leaving until you let me in
I have to do that thing with Caleb today
Why did Vince call me sounding weird?
You’re up to something
I know it
I’m going to figure it out
And finally, the one I just received:
You can’t ignore me forever
Bullshit I couldn’t.
Okay, I probably couldn’t, but no one told me what to do.
Not especially since Vince was convinced (goddammit, I was never going to be able to use that word again!) that Darren was in love with me, for fuck’s sake. That was the part I couldn’t quite grasp, no matter how hard I tried. Because I wasn’t sure I wanted to understand it. I didn’t think that could ever be real and—
“Ladies and gentleman, welcome to Poco’s,” a sultry voice said.
“Oh for fuck’s sake,” Paul muttered. “He’s like a fucking cockroach.”
But the waiter must not have heard him, eyes running up and down Vince and Corey. “My name is Santiago,” he said, cocking his hip. “And I will be here to service you.” He winked at Vince. “Oops. I meant serve you.”
“My names is Esteban Raymundo Moreno,” Vince said, rolling his r’s so hard, I thought he was going to lose his tongue. “I am named after mi padre.”
“How fascinating,” Santiago said. “I like your mustache. It’s very… large.”
“¡Gracias!” Vince said, beaming.
I wasn’t going to put up with his shit today, especially since Paul already looked like someone’s spinster great-aunt from the fifties. “Santiago, was it?”
He glanced away from Vince, sizing me up before nodding.
“Good. Here’s what’s going to happen. You are going to bring us our drinks. I’ll have a margarita, salt on the rim. Esteban will have a Dos Equis. My other two friends will have a vodka cranberry and a hard lemonade. After you bring us these drinks, you will not come back to this table until I signal you. Is that understood?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Do I know you from somewhere—”
“Is that understood?”
He nodded stiffly.
“Good. I’ll be watching you. If you make anyone else uncomfortable, say, perhaps, someone you’ve known intimately in the past, I will take that little twig you call a pecker and shove it so far up your nose, you’ll be tasting your own cock at the back of your throat.”
“Eep,” Santiago said.
“I love this,” Paul whispered fervently.
“Drinks,” I barked at Santiago, and he departed.
“God,” Corey said. “You make my heart happy.”
This pleased me greatly.
It was good that we didn’t have to wait long. With every minute that went by, I was getting more and more anxious, not really sure if I was ready to see what was about to happen. Because what if Darren was there and he was happy to be? What if it was an actual date? What if he and Caleb started fucking right there on the table on top of the complimentary chips and salsa?
I didn’t think my heart could take it.
“They’re here,” Corey whispered.
We all stiffened and I kicked Corey under the table. “You have to say it like we practiced!”
Corey rolled his eyes. “Red leader, red leader: the whale has breached.”
“We really need to get a better code for things,” Paul told me.
I glanced surreptitiously toward the front of the restaurant. Sure enough, Darren was there, with Caleb at his side. They weren’t touching and weren’t even necessarily standing close to each other. Darren looked good, wearing a pair of sinfully tight jeans and a button-down shirt, the sleeves rolled up over his forearms.
Caleb looked like a whore, but that was fine. I’m sure he just had to work with what he was given.
“Okay,” I said, turning back to the table. “This is no longer a drill. We are a go. Now, tell me the name you will be referred to for the rest of the time we’re here.”
“Esteban Raymundo Moreno,” Vince said, cocking an eyebrow.
“Slim Trim Colvin,” Corey said. “Jazz flautist.”
We all looked at Paul.
He shook his head. “Fuck all of you. I won’t say it.”
“You will,” I snapped. “You will say it right now and you will be happy about it.”
“You can’t make me!”
“Paul, don’t make me come over there, I swear to god. I will give you such a spanking.”
“Say it,” Slim Trim whispered. “Say it out loud and embrace it.”
“You can do it,” Esteban said. “I believe in you.”
“Agnes Beaverton,” Paul said morosely.
“And I will be Helen Von Trapp,” I finished. “We’re live. Don’t fuck this up.”
The hostess glanced at our table as she turned to lead Darren and Caleb. The answering grin I gave her was all teeth, and she stumbled slightly but recovered before anyone else noticed. Darren and Caleb followed her, Caleb bringing up the rear, his hand pressing against the small of Darren’s back. I glared at that touch over my menu, planning for Caleb’s hand to be the first thing to go should it become necessary. I only had a butter knife to use, but I could be patient enough to get through the bone.
They had to pass by our table to get to the one Tracey was leading them to. I was the only one facing them directly. Agnes had her back to them, with Esteban and Slim Trim on either side in profile. I peeked over the menu, sure my sunglasses would allow for discretion. Darren had a blank look on his face as he followed Tracey, which I didn’t know how to interpret. There was a moment when they neared our table that I thought he stiffened slightly, a small hitch to his step, but I told myself I was seeing things. He walked by, Caleb following, and Tracey sat them at their table.
The lunch crowd had already come and gone, but there were still enough peopl
e in the restaurant that I couldn’t quite make out what they were saying with any regularity. I could hear bits and pieces, little fragments taken out of context that really didn’t make much sense. Caleb did most of the talking, with Darren appearing to grunt in response.
I thought about telling the tables around me to shut the fuck up, but I thought that would probably draw too much attention to us.
Also, it would be rude.
Santiago approached their table, his eyes gleaming as soon as he saw Darren. But before he could get to the table, he paused, glancing over at me.
Anticipating this would happen, I already had picked up my fork and held it in such a way that could only be construed as I will stab you with this until there is more of your blood outside of you than in you. Santiago gulped, glancing between Darren and me, before putting a more neutral expression on his face, free of flirtation.
He stayed only for a moment, giving a perfunctory greeting and taking the drink order. He left and whatever conversation Darren and Caleb were having resumed.
“They don’t look like they’re on a date,” Slim Trim said.
“They’re not even touching,” Esteban said.
“I can’t believe I’m wearing something that belongs to my nana,” Agnes said.
“Looks can be deceiving,” I said. “They could just be nervous and are waiting for the right moment to confess their animalistic lust for each other before they have the butt sex.”
Slim Trim rolled his eyes. “Or they could just be here because Caleb bid the most, thinks Darren is your boyfriend, and nothing will happen.”
“That’s probably true,” Esteban said. “But we should stay here as long as possible so that everyone can see how awesome I look with my mustache—I mean, so we can make sure Darren and Sandy can be together forever because of love.”
“She even tried to give me her underwear,” Agnes said. “She said she had a pair with Justin Bieber’s face on them. Who does that? I don’t want to sit on Justin Bieber’s face.”
Santiago appeared at the table with our drinks on a tray. His hands shook as he divvied out the drinks. I dismissed him with a wave of my hand once he’d finished. I took a long sip of my margarita, eyes never leaving Darren.
He was sitting facing me, Caleb’s back to us. Caleb was gesticulating wildly with his hands, and all Darren did was nod and give a tight smile. At one point, Caleb reached out to touch the back of Darren’s hand. Darren seemed to allow it only for a split second before he pulled away. Caleb took it in stride and kept right on talking.
Every now and then, Darren would glance around the restaurant, eyes trailing over everyone, including us. He never showed recognition, and I congratulated myself on being a master of disguise. We weren’t exactly being subtle, but I thought we probably blended in with the other eccentricities that were found on 4th Avenue.
I was starting to have some very serious doubts about the nature of Caleb and Darren’s relationship, if there was even one there. Darren certainly didn’t look like someone who was about to get laid. In fact, if anything, he looked almost annoyed at having to be there with Caleb, continuing his monosyllabic caveman responses. I didn’t even see a hint of a smile at any point. It was a stunning thought, to know that I might have been wrong, given that I was rarely wrong about anything ever. It was my gift; it was also my curse.
“Guys,” I breathed. “I don’t know if they’re on a date.”
Agnes snorted. “No shit, you think? Can we leave now? I never knew that muumuus could be so drafty. No wonder Nana sits with her legs spread all the time. Oh god, I just grossed myself out.”
“He wouldn’t do that to you,” Esteban said, twirling his mustache. “He wouldn’t try to do anything to mess this up.”
“I think I might keep this suit,” Slim Trim said. “Because of reasons.”
“But if they’re not fucking, what are they doing?” I asked.
“Are you sure you didn’t read those texts out of context?” Agnes asked.
“Of course not,” I said. “I had the perfect context.”
“You thought they were fucking.”
“Yes, well. Contextually, that’s what it looked like.”
“Why don’t you just ask him?” Esteban asked. “I don’t get why people just don’t say what they want.”
“If we’d said what we wanted, you wouldn’t be wearing that mustache,” I reminded him.
“Good point,” Esteban said. “You may continue as is.”
“He’s leaning in,” Slim Trim hissed.
I looked back at Darren and Caleb, only to see that Slim was right. Darren was resting his elbows on the table, head bowed slightly as Caleb leaned forward. He reached down and touched Darren’s hand again, and for a moment, I thought Darren was going to allow it. But then Darren pulled his hand away and sat back, crossing his arms over his considerable chest. I couldn’t hear what Caleb said in response, but Darren didn’t seem to be wanting any of it.
That should not have made me as giddy as it did.
Darren then pulled his phone from his pocket, looked down, and starting typing on it.
A second later, my phone buzzed.
“He texted me,” I whispered, picking up my phone.
“What does it say?” Agnes asked as the others leaned in.
“What are you doing right now?” I read off.
“He’s on a date right now and he’s asking what you’re doing?” Slim Trim asked. “Yeah, he wants to eat your butt.”
“Whoa,” I said. “Let’s keep it classy. Also, I am totally okay with that.”
“So, we’re admitting feelings now?” Agnes asked.
“Yes,” I said. “So many feelings. Some of them are throbbing.”
“Ew,” Agnes said. “And also, aww.”
“Good,” Esteban said. “Can we just go tell him we’re here now?”
“Of course not,” I said. “That would be too easy. Have you learned nothing from me? We have to play it cool.”
Esteban groaned.
So, in an effort to play it cool, I wrote back Nothing.
I was so cool.
The response was almost instant. Really. Where are you?
Me: At home. Watching TV and knitting.
“You don’t know how to knit,” Agnes said.
“He doesn’t know that.”
Darren: Knitting, you say
Me: Yes
Darren: At home
Me: Yes
Darren: Why did you leave last night?
Me: I was tired
Darren: And you didn’t say anything?
Me: You looked busy
Darren: That’s how you’re going to play it, then
I frowned at that. I don’t know what you mean
Darren: You know what? I’m done playing games now
And then the messages started coming faster, not giving me a chance to respond.
Here’s what you’re going to do
You’re going to get up from the table you’re sitting at ten feet away
You’re going to excuse yourself
Say you need to use the restroom
You’re going to walk toward the back
There is a door that leads to the alley by the kitchen
Use it
Do it now
And don’t make me tell you twice
“Meep,” I said.
“What did he say?” Agnes asked.
“Nothing,” I said, coughing roughly. “Oh no! I have to use the little girl’s room.”
“Are you okay?” Slim Trim asked. “You look flushed all of a sudden.”
“It’s just hot in here,” I said, going for calm and missing by a mile.
“We’re sitting right under a ceiling fan and an air conditioning vent,” Esteban said.
“How about that?” I said. “Be right back.”
And without another word, I rose from the table, the chair scraping loudly on the tile floor. I couldn’t bring myself to look in Darren’
s direction, not sure I wanted to see the expression on his face. I didn’t know if he was pissed off that we’d been spying on his date (and since when was someone able to see through my amazing disguises?) or if it was something else.
I hoped it was something else.
The kitchen was loud and bustling off to the right, and I saw the door Darren had referred to. It had a flickering Exit sign above it. I glanced around quickly to make sure that no one was watching before I pushed my way out the door and into the cool fall sun.
I was in an alleyway that ran behind all the businesses on 4th Avenue. If I looked to the left hard enough, I could just make out the rear of Jack It, where Mike’s office sat. There was no one else out here and I shivered at the thought.
The door banged open.
“How did you know?” I demanded as soon as Darren walked out into the alley. “I am a queen for fuck’s sake, you shouldn’t be able to—”
He kissed me.
It took me a second to catch up with the proceedings, to realize that Darren had brought both his hands up to cup my face and pull me to him. His lips were moving over mine and I couldn’t help but kiss him back. He let out a low growl once he felt my tongue brushing against his, crowding me back against the building, grip tightening on my face to the point that it almost hurt. He used his foot to kick my feet apart, pressing his thigh up against me, allowing me to rest on his leg as he fucked my mouth with his tongue. My sunglasses were knocked off my face and onto the ground, but I couldn’t be bothered by it, given I had an armful of the Homo Jock King. His mouth left mine, and I gasped as he started trailing kisses along my jawline, grinding against me. It was dirty, and I felt filthy, wanting to drop to my knees and suck him off right here in the alley where anyone could see.
I had so many things I wanted to say to him (First of all what? And second, WHAT?), but since I was me, the first thing I managed to say also happened to be the most ridiculous. “You’re going to ruin my lipstick,” I managed to say as he nipped at my ear.
He snorted against my neck and pulled away slightly. “Too late for that.”
And it was, if his face was anything to go by, lips smeared with stripes of red, pupils blown out, and chest heaving with every breath he took, each exhalation warm on my face. He looked debauched, almost ruined, and I knew I probably looked worse.