Nice Guys Don't Finish Last

by Brown, Chavez

  Tony is one of those ‘back & forth’ guys, who believes he can pop up whenever he choose too. I met him during my freshman year in college, shortly after Deja & I broke up and he introduced me to the lustful side of the lifestyle. What I thought was love, was nothing but a year of burdens. He was a ‘man’s man’ who didn’t have any goals or motivations, and just wanted to skip class to smoke weed every day. At first, I was attracted to his brilliant mind, which he wasted that entire year on irrelevant things. Not to mention, he played reverse psychology shit on me, one too many times. Hence, being a Psychology major, but it hardly ever worked on me.

  We would break up every week, and make up for it with the roughest sex I’ve ever indulged in. I remember one night, he gutted me so good my head got stuck in the headboard of his bed, and we had to cut the bars off to get it out. If it was one thing he was good for, it was definitely the sex. But he was your typical guy that’d play with your emotions & stomp over them in a quick second.

  He tries to convince me on how much he has changed, and Abdul can’t possibly be better than him. But it’s been four years since we’ve been apart, and there’s no mix signals I send to induce him to even think there’s a chance of getting back with me. However, he is so persistent & does not respect my relationship enough to not express his feelings or physical attraction to me.

  Yes, there are times when I want to kiss him again or even get my head stuck in a headboard, but I have to be the stronger person in this situation. I don’t see or talk to him much because I don’t want to do anything stupid, although I can control my hormones unlike someone else I know.

  “Can I ask you a question,” he asked.

  “Go ahead, but it better not be anything disrespectful,” I declared with bass in my voice. I could tell he had a lot on his mind, but was afraid to express despite my reaction.

  “Do you ever think about us?”

  “Tony, I thought we made it clear you wouldn’t ask me any questions like that. Out of respect,” I pouted.

  “I know, but I can’t stop thinking of you. I just don’t see you being with that nigga forever,” he said.

  “Well, it’s not what you see. It’s about my happiness, and if you would have had your shit together four years ago then we’d probably still be together.”

  “Why do you talk down to me?”

  “Because you’re talking down to my relationship, and I told you to respect him.”

  “Well, you sure wasn’t respecting him about a week or two ago,” he said.

  “Excuse me, what does that supposed to mean?”

  “Don’t try to act dumb now, you know exactly what I’m referring to,” he said turning the radio up to tune out my voice. Followed by an utter silence after he turned the radio down, but I refused to allow him to take me out of character. He tried to speak to me, but I didn’t answer.

  We were on the main street, and barricades blocked us from attainment to my house, causing Tony to take an immediate detour around the block. I assumed the fire trucks were the same alarming through the block party.

  “Damn, I wonder what happened here,” he said.

  “Well, apparently there was a fire.”

  “Yeah, but where was it coming from.”

  “How would I know? I was at the same place you were.”

  “I know that smart ass, but wait a minute--- that look like your house,” he pointed as I saw black smoke blowing outside the windows, as if a fire was extinguished.

  “Tell ‘Em the Truth Featuring Delmar”

  The liquor finally worn off, while Ty pulled in front of my door, as I saw the lights in the dining room flash through the windows. It was evident my parents were awake, assuming they were prepping sermons for Sunday’s service. I could not go in the house with my cunt outfit, so I had to change into my boy-ish gear in the car.

  “One day, they’re going to catch you,” Ty applied Mac lip gloss to his lips.

  “Catch me doing what,” I asked pulling my shirt over my head.

  “Doing something gay,” he laughed.

  “How you figure?”

  “Because you can’t hide forever, even though you are a church boy,” he insisted puckering his lips in the rearview mirror. I heard this shit from elsewhere before.

  “Please don’t tell me you’re about to babble about coming out of the closet, like Jeremey.”

  “No, but I think it’d be better for you to approach them about the subject before someone else does. You never know who is watching & capable of blackmailing you,” he said as if he knew something I wasn’t aware of.

  “What and who are you referring to?”

  “Nobody, I am speaking in general. I’ve seen it happen before, and it won’t be pretty.”

  “But either way, it will result the same. If I told them versus someone else informing them, it doesn’t make a difference. It’s just a different delivery, but same outcome.”

  “I understand that, but if you told them I think it would be better.”

  “I appreciate your concern, Ty. I really do, but I’m not forcing myself to tell my family something I’m not ready for. I am not prepared to attend therapy sessions to make me straight either.”

  “Well it’s your life, so you’re going to do you regardless. So I’m gon’ leave it alone, goodnight,” he said, withdrawing me from his car. I didn’t know if he was angry because I had a mind of my own & chose not to do what he wanted me to. But coming out the closet is a step I’m not ready for, you must be mentally prepared for the changes that will follow.

  Did he know something I didn’t? No one is forcing me to do anything I’m not fond of, if Ty jumped off the Bay Bridge does that mean I will do the same? No. I’m content with my parents being oblivious to the truth about me; yes it’s a hassle hiding who I am. However, I think they’ll disown me if they were aware of the person I hung around, the places I go to & my sex life.

  “Well since you are being a friend & giving me advice, I think I should do the same, as well and tell you to lay off on the lip gloss,” I kindly said as I opened the car door & slammed it. He sat there for a good twenty seconds; and finally pulled off.

  I silently strolled in the house & saw my parents both sitting at the dining room table with eyeglasses on, writing on yellow pad line paper. I greeted them both in avoidance of small talk because they hate being interrupted while writing their ideas on paper.

  “Hey son, where were you,” my father asked.

  “I went bowling with a few friends from school,” I lied with an equitable expression hoping they wouldn’t hold a long conversation.

  “Hmmm, bowling? Interesting… we both need to talk to you about something,” my mother said.

  “Can it wait? I’m really tired,” I asked the both of them.

  “No, we need to talk to you right now,” he firmly said. My gut dropped to my feet, and I heard the phrase ‘we need to talk to you right now’ replay in my head about three times in a short second. Maybe, Ty really did feel something was going to happen tonight, which is the reason he told me to be honest with my parents about it.

  When they ask me if I’m gay, I am going to tell the truth. There’s no sense in hiding it anymore!

  “Foolish Pride Featuring Abdul”

  Hours past, the reporters & police were inquisitive about the incident I was incompetent about. All I wanted to do was knock each of them out with my cane, and take the biggest sleeping pill & never wake up again. The nosy bystanders were no help either, witnessing me go through this terrible loss and the only remorse offered was utter stares.

  There was Nico, jumping out of Tony’s car in blank confusion. I could tell he was speechless & didn’t know what to say, while he walked towards me with a tear in his eye.

  “What happened,” he asked. “We still don’t know. But the house was on fire when I walked back here, I’ve been calling & texting you for hours.”

  “I didn’t receive anything, my phone died while I was out,” he responded as I looked
at Tony standing next to his car in disbelief. I don’t trust that mofo at all!

  “And Milo is gone,” I said calmly as he stared at that the pavement, and his arms began to shake.

  “And my piano is gone… I invested so much money into that piano,” he said.

  “Yeah, but Milo is gone too.”

  “I heard you say that the first time, Abdul.”

  “Well, you didn’t show any remorse towards me stating it either. Milo was actually alive; we can always replace your piano.”

  “Excuse me, that wasn’t just a piano. That was a Yamaha Grand Piano, which was worth as much as your car. I loved Milo, but what am I going to do about the piano,” he yelled as I walked away avoiding a decapitation in front of the cops because I was ready to knock his ass out.

  “Why are you walking away from me, Abdul,” he yelled as I ignored him and he chased after me grabbing my arm.

  “What do you want, Nico?”

  “I want you to talk to me. I am sorry about Milo, I loved him just as much as you. It was just my first reaction that my piano is gone, and you know how important it is.”

  “Whatever Nico,” I snatched away from him and bumped into one of the officers on the scene.

  “Is this your home,” the officer said.

  “Yes it is,” we both responded.

  “Well, we’ve been doing some investigation, and we can’t seem to figure out what caused the fire,” the officer said as I looked at Nico with tears coming down his face and mumbling something under his breath.

  “What are you saying, Nico,” I asked.

  “Oh nothing… I just don’t know what to say right now,” he alarmingly said, continuously shaking his head.

  “I bet you were in such a rush to leave with ol’ boy over there,” I said looking over at Tony, shaking my head.

  “What does that supposed to mean?”

  “It means---,” the white officer interrupted my sentence to ask if we had insurance coverage on the place & or if there was someone we could stay with for at the time. I knew the first person Nico would mention is his mother, and again I would rather go to a shelter before agreeing to stay anywhere with her.

  “I want you boys to come down to the station with me, so we can ask more questions,” he said as Nico insisted we could both stay with his mom. I didn’t want to make the situation worse than it already was, so I chose not to debate with him on the scene. However, I decided to express my emotions in private or at least at the station. Then, Tony treaded over to us like the fire deeply affected him, but I knew he conducted an Oscar worthy performance.

  “Is everything alright,” Tony asked the both of us.

  “No, Tony. Our house was on fire,” Nico answered annoyingly.

  “But we will be fine, man. Thanks for bringing Nico back home, you can go now,” I said wrapping my arm around Nico pulling him towards me, and he pulled away as if he knew I did it because Tony stood there.

  Tony devilishly grinned like the Grinch after he stole Christmas from the innocent children who thought they were received gifts from Santa. He expressed how sorry he was about what happened, but I didn’t buy his condolences one second. He even had the nerve to offer us a place to stay.

  Maybe it was my foolish pride, but I just don’t trust dude! He’d probably try to get us to move in with him, just to get on my good side… but screw me over later by seducing Nico.

  “Thanks, but no thanks, bruh. We’ll be okay, we’re going to stay with his moms,” I said as Nico stared with hesitation in his eyes. I’d rather be over his mom’s house than Tony’s any given Sunday!

  “Expect the Unexpected Featuring Nico”

  The police station painted a disgruntled picture of handcuffed hookers & criminals anguished away by the burly cops, who often took advantage of the power they proclaim. They stereotypically stood around devouring pizza & jelly donuts, while cracking the corniest gay jokes about their counterparts; proving their masculinity towards each other. It would be the right thing to do if they chose to whip their dicks out, and compare sizes to each other.

  Abdul & I sat in Detective Roland’s office, waiting for further instructions about what we do in a case like this. I am terrified we won’t have full coverage on the condominium loft’s insurance, and will owe the complex money & stay with my mom until we’re back on our feet.

  Abdul tapped on the arm of the chair, presumably annoyed with everything surrounding him. He has barely said two words to me, since we’ve been in the office. I found myself seduced by an uncanny stench reminiscent of an old man wearing a disposable diaper three days past due. I wasn’t sure if Abdul slipped a fierce one out, or if it was just Roland’s musty office drenched with aged gray paint.

  “Did you fart,” Abdul asked me covering his nose. “That’s the same thing I was going to ask you,” I laughed, as he turned in his head in aggravation. I thought it would at least loosen him up, but my attempt to make him laugh was a failure.

  “I apologize for that long wait, guys,” Roland said walking into the office with a Baltimore Ravens mug filled with coffee.

  “It’s all good, man,” Abdul said nudging his cane into the floor.

  “So I’ve talked to your insurance company. They said you two were insured, but they need to do more investigation to see how exactly the fire was caused.”

  “Did they say how long it will it take for them to figure out what happened,” I asked.

  “Approximately two to three days, based around how it happened… it will determine what they pay for,” Roland answered as Abdul noticeably exhaled. He presumably relieved by the current news.

  “Where do we go from here,” I asked.

  “Well, you’ve spoken to your mother, so I guess when she arrives here that’ll be the end until we get word from the insurance company,” he said spraying Lysol in the air. “I apologize for the scent in this office; it’s been like this for the past week.”

  “Maybe it’s a dead rat,” Abdul insisted.

  “Or maybe you should try Febreze,” I laughed, as Abdul & Roland looked at me like I asked them if ‘Chicken under the Sea’ was chicken or tuna. Neither one of them cracked a smile or found my comment to be amusing.

  Detective Roland is seemingly disconnected to the world. Sure, he seems like a pleasant individual, but he sparks as the guy who was unpopular in high school & got bullied by the jocks for being an intellectual. Forced to join the police academy to gain some balls! He’s an attractive Caucasian boy no older than thirty one, yet geeky with an extensive pointy nose & brown bowl haircut, and doughy green eyes. The married type with a kid or two, living a dangerous life!

  “Are you guys roommates,” Roland asked.

  “No, we are in a ---“

  “A fraternity,” I cut Abdul off, as he blankly stared at me shaking his head. What the hell was he thinking? I can’t allow anyone to know about my business.

  “Fraternity? I’m a Sigma from Tennessee University.”

  “Yeah, we are Kappas,” I lied.

  “Oh okay, well I’m about to get another cup of coffee. Do you guys want any,” he asked as we both shook our heads ‘no’. He responded with a head gesture, walking outside the office closing the door behind him.

  “So we’re in a fraternity now, Nic,” Abdul asked.

  “He can’t know I’m gay. I’m a singer trying to sign with Def Jam.”

  “And I’m in the Marines, but I wouldn’t have lied to him about us being together. We only had one bedroom, it’s obvious we are together,” he slammed his cane into the floor.

  “Well, what do you want me to do?”

  “Nothing at all,” he said slowly rising from the chair with his cane, and walked over to Roland’s desk reading our police report lying on the surface.

  “Stop being nosey,” I said.

  “Shut up,” he said looking through different papers on the desk, and his eyes suddenly grew larger than his head.

  “What’s wrong,” I asked.

  “
Isn’t this Ms. Bridget,” he held an obituary up with Roger’s wife picture on the front of it leaning over the desk to pass the paper to me.

  “Mr. Bilal, your mom is outside the office waiting for you,” Roland said, as I sat there with a broken heart & dead impulse.

  “I just thought of her last night, and had the intentions on calling her this morning,” I said to Abdul in a friction himself.

  How did Ms. Bridget past & when? Why does Roland have her obituary?

  “Revealed Featuring Delmar”

  The joints of my fingers became stiffer than a dead body suffering rigor mortis, and my mouth would not open. Did my parents just ask me this question? How do I respond to this?

  “Son, answer us,” my father said as my mother got teary-eyed awaiting my answer. But I didn’t know how to respond to it.

  “Why did you guys ask me that,” I asked. “Because things are dead between us for years, and we wanted to know your opinion on it,” my mother said.

  “What do you mean you want my opinion on it? You’ve just informed me that the both of you are getting separated & possibly divorced. How do you think I’m supposed to react to that,” I asked with my hand across my forehead looking at them sitting across from me on the luminous gold leather sofa. My mother stared at the floor, it was apparent she was hurt about the decision.

  “We both know it’ll affect you, which is why we want to know how you feel about it,” he said.

  “Don’t you think God would be disappointed that you two are giving up so easily? Christians don’t give up; you know it’s in the bible. There is no real reason why you two are separating anyways.”

  “Delmar, you only know what we tell you. You don’t even know half of the truth,” she shook her head with the Hudson River pouring down her cheeks. It was obvious they both were protecting something from me.