Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender

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Mastered 2: Ten Tales of Sensual Surrender Page 83

by Opal Carew


  “So…”

  “I don’t think it would go over very well.” His voice faded, losing its confident edge.

  “There’s only one way to find out. Tell him!” I sassed with encouragement.

  “Maybe. One day.” He let out a loud, audible breath as if it pained him to even think about coming out to his family. I couldn’t imagine what that must’ve felt like, not having your own parents know just who you truly were. The mere thought of it froze in my brain.

  “Well, anyway, Thor and I will hang out with you. We’ll help bring out the gay in you.” I winked at him playfully.

  He chuckled. “I’d like that.”

  There was a tingling in the pit of my stomach. “Me, too,” I lowered my voice and admitted. I don’t know why but Miguel made me feel warm and fuzzy.

  My phone vibrated. The screen flashed: Mom

  “I better take this.”

  “Sure,” he said as he continued to stare at me intently.

  Pushing the ‘talk’ button, I greeted her.

  “Blake Morgan the third.” Mom’s voice hardened. “I just saw Poppy’s show. It got picked up on CNN.”

  Fuck. Shit. Damn. Fuck. Shit. Damn.

  “Oh…is that so? Good for Poppy.” I rolled my eyes in Miguel’s direction as he leaned in even closer.

  “How could you lie to your own mother?” Her voice raised in volume. “Do you have any idea how much that hurts me?”

  “I didn’t want you to worry. That’s why I didn’t tell you.”

  “Your father is coming on Friday morning after your class to pick your butt up. You’re spending the weekend with us. Bring Thor and the girls. We need to talk,” she insisted archly.

  “Mother, don’t overreact.”

  “I’m not…” Her voice died away as she attempted to clear her throat. She sounded as if she’d been crying. “It’s not just about you getting roofied.”

  “What now?”

  “Late last night, I got a call from Mrs. Edwards.” She blew her nose.

  “What did Thor’s mom have to say?” My heartbeat skyrocketed.

  “She told me…” Pausing, her breathing became heavier.

  A wave of apprehension swept through me. “Mom.”

  She was gasping so loudly into the phone, it sounded as if she was sitting right next to me on the bed. Every hair on my body shot up.

  “She said…that Thor had gotten himself infected with…HIV.”

  “Yes.” I chewed on my bottom lip for a second before finishing, “He did.”

  “Mrs. Edwards is out of her mind with worry and has no one to talk to.”

  “I can’t imagine. But why did she call you?”

  “She asked me if you two were having…sex.”

  A shadow of alarm touched my skin as I felt a prickle of irritation. “With each other?”

  “Yes! Do you have HIV, too?”

  “Mother!” I cried out with a tinge of exasperation. “Just because we’re both gay doesn’t mean we’re automatically going to be sleeping with each other.”

  “Answer the damn question. So help me God, Blake.” She sobbed.

  “No, Mom. As far I know, I don’t have HIV.” I spouted out the words contemptuously. “And Thor and I are not having sex.”

  The tan skin on Miguel’s face flashed to white. I closed my eyes and tried to focus. I couldn’t look at him right then.

  “Son, you’re a proven liar to me now.” There was an edge to my mother’s voice which I’d never heard before. It shamed me to no end. “Why should I believe you?”

  “Mom…” I didn’t know what else to say. Annoyed with myself for lying to her earlier, I had no defense.

  “Are you sexually active?” she asked tersely.

  “That’s none of your business.” Anger swelled inside of me. I was seeing red. She’d crossed the line.

  “Listen, Blake, and you’d better listen to me good, because I’m only going to say this once.”

  “Okay…” Uncertain what would come out of her mouth, I braced myself for impact as if I was driving a convertible at a thousand miles an hour, and the only thing in sight ahead of me was a cement brick wall.

  “Eighteen years ago, I turned down a job to work at a little computer company called Apple which, by the way, was launching an unknown product at the time they’d coined as Macintosh. Instead, I took a job at the local elementary school teaching kindergarten so I could be home with you.”

  Shaking my head, I muttered, “I know...”

  “No, you don’t know the half of it. I have invested my life raising you. Thousands of dollars—correction, hundreds of thousands of dollars—have gone into your future. Nearly two decades of my life have been devoted to your wellbeing. You. Are. My. Priority.”

  “Thank you for reminding me.”

  She’d told me this on several occasions. It never got easier to hear. If anything, it made me feel like a piece of garbage for not living up to her expectations. But in my defense, I hadn’t really caused this to happen. Just like at Avon Porter, I wasn’t to blame then, and I’m not to blame now. As always, I was guilty by association, but that was okay because I loved my friends. I’d do anything for them. After all, I was what motorcycle-loving Lex Easton once had called a ‘ride or die friend’.

  “Dammit. Let me finish.”

  “Okay. Okay.” My cheeks started to burn.

  “If you are sexually active, I want you to use common sense and wear a condom at all times—”

  “Of course.” It was a little late to be having the safe sex conversation, but I’d entertain it. We’d had it about a million times already.

  “I mean it, Blake. Taddy got herself pregnant and miscarried. Thor now has HIV. Clearly your friends are not using rubbers. If you get sick, I will not take care of you, son.”

  “What are you talking about?” Pressing a palm over my lips, I tried to hold back the cry as tears fell down my cheeks. “I’m not gonna get sick.”

  “Honey, you will not leave this Earth before I do. Parents are not supposed to bury their children. You cannot fuck up your life over sex.”

  Switching the cell phone from one ear to the other, I’d never heard her say the ‘f’ word before. Ever. It caused a thickness in my throat. “Mom…”

  “Promise me you won’t be stupid. Promise me you’ll use condoms. Promise me you’ll never get sick.”

  Her crying was so loud and hard it was making me get choked up. Miguel went to his desk and grabbed a tissue. He handed it to me as I realized why Mom was acting so tough. She had to set the bar, letting me know that my sexual health was my responsibility, and that whatever choices I made would directly impact my family.

  “I promise.” Aching with defeat, my breath hitched. I dried my eyes.

  “Good. Now be ready by noon on Friday. Your father will be there with the SUV. Tell the girls I expect to see them. Especially that Taddy. I’ll make up the guest rooms. We’re having pot roast for dinner and we’ll rent movies. Something scary. I know how you like your horror flicks.”

  Mom could turn her emotions on and off, from sad to happy, so frickin’ fast. One minute, she’d be all crying and crazy and then the next, she’d be serving pie in my face with a smile for me to eat up. It freaked me the fudge out.

  “You don’t have to do all of this…”

  “Of course I do. I knew your first semester away at college in the big city was going to be rough, but I had no idea it was going to be like this. I’m sick with worry for you. Having you and the gang over this weekend is for my own sanity. Not yours. I need to see you and be with you.”

  “I understand. I love you.”

  “I love you, too. Now…Mrs. Edwards is coming over on Saturday morning for brunch. She wants to spend time with Thor. I told her I’d be there for her and help her through this. It’s a grieving process.”

  “Thor isn’t dying.”

  “Son, I know that. And yes, Thor will go on and have a happy, heathy life, but it’s still a blow for
any parent to hear their child is sick. Mrs. Edwards needs our support right now, just as much as Thor. The better we make her feel about this, the better off Thor will be, too.”

  “You’re the best. You know that. Don’t you?”

  “Well, duh.” She snorted a laugh between her cries.

  “I’ll see you on Friday. I love you. Give Dad a hug for me. And don’t worry. Everything will be all right.” I hung up.

  “You okay?” Miguel’s forehead etched in a sharp line.

  “It’s been a rough week.”

  “I’m here if you need to talk to someone…”

  I heard the water in the shower turn off.

  “Thanks. I better go. I have to meet Vive and Lex for coffee.” My chest tightened as I asked, “Can you hand me my pants?”

  I got dressed and left before Diego came out of the bathroom. I didn’t want him to see that I’d been crying.

  As I made my way across Broadway, back to my dorm, I thought about Miguel and how he’d concealed his sexual orientation from his parents. I guess that was no different than me not telling Mom I’d gone to Glamorama the other night.

  Sometimes we keep the ones we love from knowing the truth about us, who we are, what we’ve done, because we don’t want to hurt them. In the long run, are we only making it worse?

  I didn’t have any answers…

  Chapter Nine

  Two Wigs & A Donut

  Morningside Heights

  The line for Starbucks was out the door and around the building. I swear, New Yorkers can’t get their day started without caffeine.

  Vive, Lex, and I went to the second-best place a few blocks down, Brad’s Brew. Which was fine by me because the girls were wearing black wigs, oversized shades covering their eyes, and scarves. They resembled a pair of mob wives who’d gone into protective custody.

  Totally silly. Especially with poor Hedda on Vive’s arm. Even the dog sported mini-sunglasses with the big double ‘C’ Chanel logo. Cute. But it drew attention to them, not detracted.

  Regardless, I was all too familiar with the routine. Every time one of our names ended up in the tabloids, the girls put on disguises. As if different clothing could shield them from the world.

  Speechless, arms at my side, we walked into the coffee shop as a tingling feeling of embarrassment swept up the back of my neck and across my face. Oh, God. Everyone stared at us.

  After we got our order, we picked a table in the far corner, away from the window. The place had grey cement walls and other than the group of students chatting at the espresso machine, it wasn’t that crowded.

  “I like it here better anyways. I hear the beans come from Puerto Rico. The coffee tastes sweeter and creamier.” Lex removed her coat and took a sip from her cup. She’d ordered the largest size.

  “That’s because you put a gallon of sugar in it,” Vive scolded, untying the scarf from around her neck. The girl had been on a sugar-free, low-calorie, no-carb diet for as long as I’d known her. It drove us all (including herself) nuts.

  “Shut up, Viveca. I’m stressed as it is. Ever since last night, my stomach has been in knots. I didn’t sleep a wink and I think a migraine is coming on. Shit. The stress of all this is causing me to see white spots. So! I don’t need you monitoring my caloric intake, like I’m at some Weight Watchers meeting. Sugar is my Xanax. Sugar makes me feel better. Sugar gives me peace. So let me eat my frickin’ s-u-g-a-r..” She munched on a chocolate éclair.

  “What the flip ever.” Vive adjusted Hedda on her lap.

  Rubbing the back of my neck, I then glanced down at my watch. It wasn’t even nine o’clock yet and those two were already at each other’s throats. I will say their matching bobbed hair, probably from India, looks pretty darn fabulous. Not synthetic or Halloweenish in the least. But the wigs’ dark blue undertones didn’t seem natural against their fair complexions. “Everyone uptown knows it’s us. We’re practically on campus. Don’t you two think the whole disguise thing is getting old?”

  “Chill, bitch. Meeting you this morning has nothing to do with being on that stinking Poppy White Show. And I will be giving her a piece of my mind later today, don’t you worry about that.”

  “Then what the frick does it have to do with? Taddy’s wedding?”

  “Nope. We’ll get to the why of all this in just a minute. First, we gotta scope out the room and see if he’s here,” Lex replied, seeming a bit jumpier than usual.

  “He…who?” I gritted my teeth, pressing my lips tight, and rolled my eyes dramatically in their direction. They were probably stalking some boy…again. Vive had done just that in the past. I tried not to pay them any attention, so I asked, “How’s Taddy?”

  Scratching her wig, Vive replied, “She’s forgotten all about her miscarriage and is totally focused on her wedding. I think she’s forcing herself not to mourn the loss of the baby and is totally drinking the bride-to-be Kool-Aid.”

  “If that works for her, let her be.” I sat back in my chair, glancing at Hedda.

  The dog was the most adorable thing I’d ever seen.

  “You don’t seem to care much whether Taddy moves to Europe and gets married or not,” Vive snapped.

  “I do care. But let’s face the facts. Taddy has a Playboy spread coming out in a few months. She’s going to get endorsement deals. Mark my words, she’s going to be famous.”

  “Yeah. So.” Lex wiped her lips with a napkin. As daughter to rock-n-roll royalty, she wasn’t impressed with fame or money.

  “I anticipate that Taddy will be engaged a dozen or so times—to many different men—before eventually walking down the aisle.”

  My mother had been set to wed three different times before she’d married my dad. She’d once said, “When a woman has a brain, a nice body, and a pretty face, she must keep all of her options open to securing the best man possible.”

  Mom was hardcore.

  “I hadn’t thought about it that way,” Lex muttered as she picked up a second, much larger pastry and took a bite.

  “Leon hasn’t set a date or anything…” Vive bit her manicured nail.

  “We all love Taddy. Let’s be supportive. Lord knows she doesn’t have her parents to lean on right now,” I reminded them.

  “Fine.” Vive removed her sunglasses, revealing dilated pupils. “We can do that. Right, Lex?”

  “Yup.”

  “So, what’s with this getup?”

  Lex pushed her shades up into her wig, opened her mouth as if she was going to say something, shoved a piece of donut into it, and shook her head as if she couldn’t possibly bring herself to say what the heck was really going on.

  Vive nudged her and encouraged, “Go on. Tell him. You must.”

  Taking one more glance over her shoulder, Lex lowered her voice and said shakily, “Although Ford has officially dumped me—and we’re not getting back together—he did call late last night, giving us some information about the roofie incident.”

  “And what’s that?” Not expecting to hear that, I leaned forward.

  Tilting her head from side to side as if weighing how to word it, she continued, “Ford says that Glamorama doesn’t stock the kind of wine we got served.”

  “The cheap shit,” Vive added.

  “Exactly.” Lex put a powdered-sugared pointer finger up in the air. “He also said the waiter they got on video serving us the drinks was not a Glamorama employee.”

  “Who was he then?”

  “They…don’t know.” Lex shrugged, swallowing so hard I could hear her from across the table. “The image was distorted. They couldn’t get a close-up of his face.

  “How does Glamorama know it’s not one of their servers?”

  “Well…apparently…the club only staffs females.”

  “Ohhh. Shit.”

  Clasping her hands together, Vive asked, “Do you remember anything about him?”

  “Tall. Cute. Resembled one of those Abercrombie models you see in the ads. You sure he didn’t work at the club
?”

  Lex nodded.

  “To be honest, he could be sitting here, watching us, right now, and I wouldn’t notice him.”

  “Don’t say that. Don’t even joke like that,” Lex voiced in a shrill tone.

  “Seriously, that roofie stuff not only made me sick but sorta made my memory a bit wonky.” All I could remember was my bath and a few choice words Diego’d had with Miguel.

  “Me, too, honey,” Vive agreed. “I don’t remember a damn thing about that night. Hell, that man could walk up and kiss me, right here, right now, and I still wouldn’t recognize him.”

  Lex started to jiggle her left leg, causing the small circular table between us to vibrate. I didn’t know if the sugar was kicking in to her bloodstream or if she was just on edge because she was nervous. Then she asked, “Don’t you think it’s odd that those drinks were targeted at us?”

  Eyes narrowing, I rubbed my temples. “Let’s not get dramatic. I know we’re the talk of the town, but I seriously doubt anyone was targeting us specifically for anything. Many other people got sick that night. It wasn’t just us.”

  This was preposterous.

  “Ford mentioned that there were many instances seen on the video where the server is circling, standing near, and watching us.”

  Trying to calm her down, I reached for her hand. “How could he not? We’re good eye candy.”

  “Isn’t that the truth,” Vive muttered and started to pick at her nails.

  “Between Vive being dressed up as a ballerina, Taddy and her infamous, soon-to-be-featured-in-Playboy breasts sticking out, and you coming from rock-n-roll royalty, how could anyone not circle, stare, and watch?” I reasoned.

  There was no arguing that.

  We all took a sip of our coffee and glanced around the coffee shop. Students were studying. Some were reading books while others were writing on their laptops. Lex’s left leg kept on bouncing. Vive’s picking of her nails had increased to full-on finger gnawing.

  Jesus, you two are wound up tighter than a rubber band.

  “Listen,” Vive broke the silence between us. “Don’t you think it’s odd that ever since we got to Manhattan, all this bad shit has been happening to us?”

 

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