Tell Me It's Real

by T. J. Klune

  “He was trying to get in Vince’s pants,” I told them, only because I tell them pretty much everything. Well, some things.

  My mother narrowed her eyes as she glared inside the restaurant. “Is that so? He looked like the type. Little floozy. I hope you saw right through that, Vince.” Her voice was hard, as if daring him to contradict her.

  “I did,” Vince assured her. “I have a one-man heart.”

  Oh Jesus Christ.

  “That is so sweet,” my mother said, wiping her eyes.

  “Why do you have a black eye?” my father asked me suspiciously, reaching over to turn my face so he could see it better. I’d totally forgotten about it.

  “Dear,” my mother whispered loudly. “Isn’t it obvious? Vince is the Dominant and Paul is his submissive. Look how Vince is holding onto him like he owns him. It was probably just from a rough scene in Vince’s playroom. Vince may have made him pretend to be a pony, like on that one HBO show that we watched. You remember? Where that one man put that bit in the other man’s mouth and made him wear a saddle? We promised ourselves we’d always support Paul with whatever he chose to be. It just so happens he’s kinky. We’ll support him no matter what.”

  My father nodded as if this made complete sense. “You a pony, son?” he asked me.

  I tried to keep from screaming. “No, Dad. I’m not a pony.”

  “I don’t like horses that much,” Vince said, obviously not understanding at all. “They scare me a bit. I don’t like the noises they make.”

  “It was Wheels,” I explained. “He tripped me and I hit the wall.”

  “With your face?” Mom asked sympathetically. “You do have hands, you know.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind for next time,” I promised her.

  “He does that a lot,” Mom told Vince. “He’s always been a bit klutzy. This one time, he was trying to walk down the stairs, chew gum, and talk on the phone at the same time. Ended up with a broken arm.” She shook her head. “He always runs into things or falls down. It would be endearing if it wasn’t so painful. And expensive.”

  “I’m nowhere near that bad,” I muttered, glancing at my dad for help.

  He took the hint. “Matty, I think we should leave these boys to their date,” Dad said. “I’m sure they don’t want us hanging around. Besides, we’ll be late for our own reservations.”

  Mom leaned over and kissed his cheek. “You’re absolutely right, my love. You may wine and dine me, and then maybe we can get out the spurs.”

  “Oh. My. God,” I groaned.

  “Giddyup,” my dad said, grinning at her.

  “Oh, Vince!” she said. “Before I forget. We are having a get-together tomorrow for Paul’s birthday at his nana’s house. You must be there. I won’t take no for an answer.”

  “Is that the one with the homophobic parrot?” he asked me.

  “Yeah,” I sighed. “You don’t need to go. It’s not that big of a deal.”

  “Are you kidding me? You bet your ass I’ll be there.”

  “Language,” my father scolded him lightly.

  Mom clapped her hands together. “Wonderful. Maybe I should get your phone number so we could—”

  “Mom. Stop it.”

  “Oh, you’re right, dear. I’m sorry. You’re on a date now. I can get it tomorrow, Vince. After all, I’m sure I’ll want to talk to my future son-in-law on the phone at some point.”

  “Mom!”

  “Time to go, Matty,” Dad told her gently.

  She leaned in to kiss me as my father shook Vince’s hand. Then they reversed and my dad shook my hand as she kissed Vince on the cheek. He looked surprised, just for a moment, bringing his hand to touch where her lips had been. I wondered at it but didn’t ask.

  “I’m sorry,” I said, unable to think of anything else to say.

  He arched an eyebrow. “About what?”

  “Them. My parents. I told you they were weird.”

  “I thought they were okay,” he said. And it looked like he meant it.

  “Oh.”

  “You want to get out of here?” he asked suddenly, looking thoughtful,

  “Uh, sure.” I wasn’t hungry anymore.

  “Good. I want to take you somewhere.”

  “Don’t you want to wait and say good-bye to Santiago first?” I teased him.

  He shook his head and stood, holding out his hand.

  Surprising even myself, I didn’t hesitate.

  WE WENT to the park and sat on a set of swings in the dark. He was like a kid, trying to go as high as he possibly could and laughing when I told him he needed to be careful because I wasn’t going to take care of him if he fell off the swings and became paralyzed. I already had one handicapped animal to look after.

  “Would you get me my own set of wheels?” he asked.

  “With streamers hanging off,” I threatened.

  He laughed and grabbed my hand, pulling me toward the center of the park to a little stretch of grass away from the lights and the traffic. And away from where anyone could hear us scream. “You know,” I told him, “this is probably a perfect spot to get raped and then murdered by a homeless person with a hook for a hand. I don’t know if that’s the best first-date memory to have. I like my blood on the inside of me.”

  “I’ll protect you from the murdering homeless rapist with hook hands,” he promised. “I have really big muscles.” He lowered himself to the grass and lay on his back, staring up at me. He patted the area beside him. I looked around, sure there’d be some hobo wanking it behind a cactus, but it looked like we were alone.

  I tried to lie on the ground next to him, but he wouldn’t have it, so I found myself with my head on his stomach, our bodies making a T shape. It took a bit of getting used to at first, but then I allowed myself to focus on every breath he took in and every breath he let out. I rose and fell with him. It felt surreal.

  I was quiet for a time until he started twisting his fingers in my hair lazily, and I made an embarrassing little moan in the back of my throat that caused him to chuckle, a sound I felt before I heard. It rumbled against my ear and I felt it down to my toes.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I like the noises you make,” he said, a smile in his voice.

  “Um. That’s good to know. But I’d rather you didn’t hear all the sounds that come from my body. And I wish I hadn’t just said that.”

  He laughed. “I’m sure I’ll hear them all.”

  I didn’t even know how to begin to take that.

  Silence, for a time.

  Vince sighed, tugging gently on my hair. “Do you know constellations?”

  “Some. My dad showed me when I was a kid.”

  “Oh.”

  “Do you?”

  “Nah. My dad didn’t have time for that.” He tried to laugh it off. It didn’t work.

  I waited to see if he would say more. He didn’t. “You know Orion’s Belt?” I asked him.

  I felt him shrug, which I took to mean no. I moved off his stomach and onto my back, pressing our heads almost together. I took his hand in mine and pointed out three bright stars with our fingers. “Alnitak,” I said for the first star. “Alnilam,” for the second. And, “Mintaka,” for the third. “My dad said Orion was a great hunter, the son of Poseidon, the sea god. He could supposedly walk on the waves because of that. He once went hunting with the goddess Artemis and her mother Leto. For some reason, during the hunt, he said he was going to kill every creature on the planet. Mother Earth hated him for this and sent a giant scorpion to kill him. And it did. The goddesses then asked Zeus to place him in the stars. Zeus agreed, and as a memorial to Orion’s death, he also added the scorpion to the sky as well.” I took his hand and moved south, tracing over the other constellation. “And that is where Orion and Scorpius are still locked in battle.” I lowered our hands but I didn’t let go. He placed my hand on his chest. His heartbeat was soft.

  A moment later, he turned his head toward me. Our noses almost tou
ched. His dark eyes searched mine. I waited.

  “You’re so smart,” he whispered finally.

  I flushed. “Nah. Just something my dad taught me. I liked the story, so I remembered it. That’s all.” I didn’t look away. I couldn’t.

  He reached out and touched my cheek. “That’s not all.”

  We watched each other quietly until I finally worked up the courage to ask what I’d been thinking for hours. “Vince?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Is this for real?”

  “What?”

  “You know.” I swallowed. “You and me.”

  No hesitation. “It is.”

  “Okay.”

  He watched me. “If you need me to, I’ll tell you every day it’s real.”

  “Okay.”

  “It’s real.”

  “Okay.”

  “Paul?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to kiss you now.”

  “Oh?”

  “Yes.”

  “Okay. Just make sure you—”

  And then he kissed me.

  Chapter 11

  The GPS In My Prius Wants To Murder Me

  “YOU laid out and watched the stars and then he kissed you?” Sandy asked as we drove in my car the next day. “I love it, but I also think I threw up a little bit in my mouth. And got cavities from all the sweetness. And then threw up again just to say I did. It’s precious, like I expect a crack whore with a heart of gold would be.”

  “Thank you for that ringing endorsement,” I said, trying not to get mad at the GPS on my dashboard that was trying to convince me to drive off the road and into a ditch. For some reason, my GPS (appropriately nicknamed That Damn Bitch) hated me and tended to get more sarcastic when it had to recalculate. I’m not joking either. There’s nothing like hearing the female robotic voice say “Recalculating… recalculating,” when you can also hear the implied “dumbass” you just know she wants to say.

  “Turn left in thirty feet,” That Damn Bitch said.

  “We’re on a bridge!” I scowled at her.

  “I think you’re the only person in the world that has a homicidal GPS,” Sandy observed. “What the hell did you do to That Damn Bitch to make her hate you?”

  “I didn’t do anything!” I said, slightly offended. “She came with the car and she was already pissed off when I got it. I try not to use her that much, but I don’t know where the fuck this stupid bike shop is. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m not the bike-riding type.”

  “Recalculating,” That Damn Bitch snapped at me.

  “Fuck off,” I told her.

  “What happens when you and Vince get married and he wants to go on a bike-riding tour of Asia for your honeymoon?” Sandy asked.

  I glared at him. “Do I even need to tell you how many things are wrong with what you just said? I’m going to anyway. At least sixteen things.”

  Sandy laughed. “You say that now, but I bet if this were a movie, there’d be an ironic flash cut one year into the future that would show you huffing and puffing up a hill on a bike in the Hainan Province in China wearing an ‘I just got husband-fucked grin’ on your face while Vince is riding ahead of you screaming about how much he loves you and Asia.”

  “None of what you said is going to be a real thing,” I assured him. “And I wouldn’t huff and puff. I’d be riding the bicycle magnificently. Wearing a kimono that would flow gently in the breeze.”

  “I wouldn’t go that far. And kimonos are Japanese.”

  I waved my hand in dismissal. “It’s all Asia.”

  Sandy stared at me. “Oh my God, you’re already starting to talk like him.”

  Crap. “Shut up.”

  “Paul’s got a boyfriend,” he sang.

  I blushed, unable to stop myself.

  “You have arrived at your destination,” That Damn Bitch said.

  “We’re in the middle of the freeway!” I shouted at her.

  “Recalculating,” she growled.

  “She just wanted us to stop so we’d get hit by a tractor-trailer,” I muttered.

  “Maybe you should see if your psychic ex-boyfriend knows any mediums so we can see if your car is haunted too.”

  “Ugh, like the period ghost took over my GPS? I’m not going to put a tampon in the tailpipe. I’m pretty sure that wouldn’t be good for the ozone. Might have one of Vince’s nocturnal emissions.”

  Sandy giggled. “Or maybe it’s a whole new ghost, one that died on a lonely and dusty stretch of road when her jealous lover killed her in a fit of rage. Now she tries to exact her revenge by going after men who remind her of her killer.”

  “And I remind her of her straight, jealous boyfriend?”

  “Lover,” Sandy corrects me. “She had a boyfriend, too, but in the end, she decided she wouldn’t leave him for the jealous lover, which caused him to murder her. It’s all really hypothetically tragic.”

  “And now she’s hypothetically haunting my Prius?”

  He sighed forlornly. “She’s waiting until the moment when you finally listen to her and drive off the edge of a cliff so she can move on to her next victim.”

  “If I die, I’m coming back to haunt you.”

  “Or,” he said, “you’ll get reincarnated as the makeup tape I use to hold my junk back when I’m performing.”

  I grimaced. “I really could have done without that thought.”

  “Well, don’t die, then.”

  “You hear that, That Damn Bitch? You can’t murder me because I don’t want to be ball tape.”

  “Please make a U-turn,” That Damn Bitch said.

  Sandy stared at the GPS. “Isn’t she supposed to say to make a U-turn when it’s safe to do so?”

  I shook my head. “She used to say that, but for some reason she stopped. I thought it was a malfunction at first, but now I know she just wants me to die.”

  He looked out the window, a slight frown on his face.

  “Are you okay with this?” I asked him suddenly, before I could stop myself.

  He looked surprised. “Going to the bike store? I told you I was. I wouldn’t be going if I didn’t have to. I’m a big girl, Paul. I know how to say no. Or, please don’t stop, Daddy.”

  I grinned at him. “I love you, you know?”

  He smiled sweetly at me. “I know, baby doll. And I love you.”

  “I wasn’t talking about the bike store, though.”

  “Oh?”

  “I was talking about… you know.” This is so stupid.

  “What?” He looked perplexed.

  “Me and Vince.”

  Sandy cocked his head at me. “What about you and Vince?”

  “That we’re… you know.”

  “In lurve?”

  “Gross. Shut up. No. That we’re… dating. Or whatever.”

  “Paul, are you trying to ask me if I’m mad that you have a boyfriend?”

  “It sounds so stupid when you say it like that.”

  “But that’s what you’re asking?”

  “Yes.”

  He reached over and grabbed my hand, holding it gently. It felt safe. Comfortable. Like he was my home. “Sugar, I am over the moon for you,” he said quietly. “If there is anyone I know that deserves happiness, it’s you. You are the bestest friend I’ve ever had, and if someone else finally gets to see what I get to see, then you will never find me jealous of him for taking up some of your time. But know this: if he hurts you in any way, shape, or form, no one will ever be able to find his body. You get me?” A bit of Helena flashed in his eyes.

  I squeezed his hand. “I get you. And I’m not going to let things change. Things will be just like they’ve always been.”

  Sandy’s smile took on a melancholic curve. “Everything changes sometime.”

  “Not us,” I insisted. “I won’t let that happen. It’ll still be you and me against the world.”

  “And Vince.”

  “No. Not and Vince. You’ve been here practically my whole lif
e. I’ve known Vince a few days.” Even though it feels like so much longer, was the thing that went unsaid. We both heard it, but didn’t address it.

  “But it’s been the best few days of your life,” he said, no recrimination in his voice.

  I didn’t know how to respond to that, because it was true. And I hated it. Sort of.

  He knew me too well. “Right, Paul?”

  I shrugged.

  He sighed like he was a bit annoyed which, to be fair, he probably was. “Honey, just when I start to think you can accept things and move forward with them, you have these idiotic little notions in your head that you’re not good enough, that you don’t deserve to be happy like everyone else.”

  “I don’t think like that,” I replied weakly, but we both knew it was a lie.

  He didn’t call me on it. He didn’t have to. “And whether or not you can admit it,” he continued, “you’ve smiled more this past week than you have at any point that I can remember.”

  “You must have mistaken smiling for looks of frustration, bewilderment, and full-on horror.”

  “Hey, Paul?”

  “Yeah?”

  “I’m going to say a word,” Sandy said. “Just react how you normally would, okay?”

  I glanced warily at him. “Cracker Jack psychology. Fun.”

  “Ready?”

  I nodded.

  “Vince,” he said.

  I smiled widely; I couldn’t stop it if I’d tried. “Oh, goddammit!”

  He smirked at me but didn’t say anything in response.

  “Finding alternate route,” That Damn Bitch said succinctly.

  THE bike store smelled like rubber and sweat and good health. I hated it.

  “Can I help you?” the cheery little woman asked as we walked in. She had to be just under five feet tall, but she was ripped, and I thought it was possible she could kick my ass in a fight. Then I wondered why my first thought was that I was going to fight this woman, and I just chalked it up to me being weird. As usual.

  “Hi, I’m looking for a bike,” I said.

  “Well, you came to the right place!” she said with a chuckle.

  “Oh, really?” I asked her. “I wouldn’t have guessed since the sign outside says ‘Bike Shop’.”