Sharp Edges: An Urban Gay Romance

by Moreau, Lenore

  "Not do gay things," he replies, voice cold as ice. "Did you ever think maybe you do gay things because you're gay?" Anger rises in my chest, hot and violent.

  "Even if I was- which I'm fucking not- this isn't good for me. Alright? I don't like feeling-" Out of control. Lost. Unsure. "I don't like who I am when I'm with you." That sounds harsh as shit. It's not fucking true, either. But I need to say it. And for just a second he looks stricken. Then his face closes once more. "Look- I'm sorry, okay? You deserve to be with somebody like Dave. Someone who is gay. Who can give you all the shit you want to have. You know, somebody who's down to kiss you or blow you or-or whatever."

  "You have no fucking idea what I want." His hands flutter in the air for a moment and a mirthless laugh slips out of his lips. "You can't act like you're doing this for me. You're a fucking coward in denial, and you're leaving this because it's easy. But I'll tell you something, Giovanni Caruso. The way you look at me- the way you kissed me- you can't deny that we've got something real. You can deny it to me all you want, but not to yourself. You know this is fucking real. It's something more than you've felt before. Because I feel it too. Every fucking time I look at you I feel it, and I've never felt this way. It's like being set on fire every fucking time I see you. Undeniable. You can't tell me that's not there."

  Something wells up in my chest, something huge with sharp teeth that threatens to rip me to thread and bone. I fight against it, feeling it climb into my throat, constricting my voice. I can't think about it. I can't think about Oliver right now and how I feel about him. How I feel when I'm with him. Not that I do. But fuck, if I did, he'd be dead. And I might be too.

  "Oliver- I can't," I say. That's all I can say. If I say any more I'll fall apart. I'm close enough to that already. He nods once. Then he turns from me, hands still clenched into fists.

  "Don't quit the job," he orders. "You need it, Gio." He says nothing else. Just walks back into the house and shuts the door, leaving me there, hollow and alone.

  18

  Lydia meets me at the door, pulling me inside before I can protest. I called her once I left Kelly. I don't know why. I guess I just need someone right now. And she's the only one that knows anything.

  "What the fuck, G?" she screeches at me. I'm too tired to protest as she pulls me into her room. I only gave her sparse details on the phone. Just an “it's over” kind of deal. And she made me come over. "I thought you liked this guy."

  "Liked him sexually," I correct automatically. "It was just sexual. Can we please get some liquor in me? It's been... shit, it's been a day." My mind hurts. My eyes sting. I cannot get through this sober. Lydia retreats to the kitchen. She returns with a huge-ass handle of vodka and a jug of orange juice. I pour half a glass full of vodka and add a little juice on top for contrast. She raises an eyebrow at me.

  "Just sexually, huh?" I give her a look and she shrugs. "Well alright, buddy. Drink up. All on me tonight."

  We sit on the floor, leaning up against the bed. My back hurts. But I like it. It distracts me from the less tangible pain. The liquor burns my throat, but right now it feels good. It feels good to have a few things pulling me away from Oliver. To feel something else. I finish a third of the glass before I finally speak, the liquor burning warm in my stomach.

  "He got me, you know? He saw me, the shitty parts of me too and he liked em. I've never met somebody like that before. He was- god, he was so great." Lydia rolls her eyes, taking a sip of her drink. I frown at her. "Bitch, I'm serious. This fucking sucks. It sucks that I don't get somebody in my life like that just cuz I'm not gay. You know? Like if we could just be friends that fucked sometimes. That would be perfect." I thought the liquor would help. I thought it'd dull this shit. But it's just making me sad. And apparently talkative. The monster in my stomach scratches at me. I push it down with more vodka. Maybe I can drown it. Or at least get it drunk enough to leave me the fuck alone.

  "G, you don't have to end things." I let out a strangled laugh.

  "Yes, I do. Of course, I fucking do. If I don't my dad'll kill him." She glances up in surprise, her face matching my mind. It feels weird to say it out loud. Wrong, like I'm telling a secret that's not mine to tell. But the words are out now. Lydia's smart. There's no putting them back in my mouth.

  "What do you mean?" I take another long gulp of vodka. Then I tell her about everything, the bus, the blood on my hands, his cold dead eyes. You comin' over? The words echo in my head and a sick heaviness descends into my belly. When I finish, her eyes are wider than quarters. Her hand absently strokes my knee.

  "That man is a monster," she says finally. I shrug.

  "There are worse parents in Upper East. I should be glad I'm not stuck with them." She shakes her head, eyes wide and angry.

  "That fucking animal. I knew he was bad. I've seen what he's done to you guys- but, G, Jesus. I'm so sorry."

  "I'm going to kill him," I slur. "If we don't figure something out. Can't let Chris go through it. God knows Lina's seen enough already. They're too young."

  "You're too fucking young." She stands, her fists curling and uncurling. "Christ, G, here I was thinking you were just stupid. He's got you brainwashed. You're scared."

  "Hey, I don't believe a fucking word my dad says. If Kelly wants-" I hiccup and quickly drink more. I stare down at my empty glass, annoyed. I don't deny that I'm scared though. At this point, I think it's obvious as shit. "If Kelly wants to be a fag, more power to him. I'm just- I'm not."

  I pour myself another generous serving of vodka with a splash of orange juice. Lydia takes my hands gently, sitting back beside me and lowering her voice.

  "I'm going to say something. You've got to promise not to get mad at me or hate me." I glance at her wearily. Her face is way too sweet right now. It's the pity. I fucking hate being pitied.

  "Fine."

  "Babe, you're fucking gay as shit. And I love you anyway, okay? Think about it. Remember when you and Jesse were like best friends? Like the way you looked at him? Why'd you stop being friends?"

  "He got a girlfriend," I mumble, glaring at her. She nods emphatically, taking a long drink from my glass.

  "Right, see? You've always had that side. You look at guys' asses when they walk past you. I've seen it. You get close with them then run away before anything can happen. You couldn't even fuck girls again once you finally did it with a guy." I stand, unsteady.

  "Fuck you, Lydia. I'm not fucking gay, alright? I just like stuff up my butt. That's got nothing to do with gay. And you know what? You can shove it up your ass." I wobble toward the door, practically feeling her roll her eyes.

  "Sit down, G. C'mon, you're fucking wasted."

  "'Ve made it home drunker," I murmur. She's right though. The vodka's catching up to me. I shouldn't have drunk nearly two full fucking glasses of it in a row. She sighs and I feel her hand on my elbow.

  "I'm walking you back." I flip her off with both hands but don't argue. I wobble. Alright, I'm drunk. And still sad. Everything's so fucked up, including me. I walk beside Lydia, almost stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk. I glare at it, but Lydia pulls me forward, nearly making me stumble again. She knocks on the door, but I barely hear it. I'm lost in my own head. I can't stop seeing that hurt look on his face, hear his words ringing over and over in the air. His green eyes swim in front of me, worried and injured at once. I need more booze. Lina answers the door, raising an eyebrow at me. She's blurred.

  "I believe this belongs to you," Lydia says, pushing me forward gently. Lina takes my arm and leads me into the house, thanking Lydia over her shoulder. We make it to the couch before I start blubbering. I can't control my mouth. The words spill out in a jumbled blur of emotion, and the one part of my mind that can still think prays to every god I've heard of that my dad isn't here.

  "I think I fucked up, Lina. I really think- he's special- you know? He deserves someone not fucked up. And then I went and fucked him up."

  "What happened?" she asks. Her voice is more gentle than
I've ever heard it. She's scared, too. She's never seen me like this. I'd never let her, normally. I take a deep breath.

  "I fell for a-a girl and he- I mean she- I ended things and now he's gonna hate me forever," I say. "He's never gonna talk to me again." Lina's eyes widen.

  "He?" she asks, voice hardly more than a whisper. My brain knows I shouldn't say it. But my tongue is loose and the words fall out.

  "Yeah, he. Oliver. I stopped fucking him. Everything's worse now."

  "Oliver. Oliver Kelly? You're into him?"

  "No-no- not gay. He's just. He was my friend and I fucked shit up, then we stopped fucking and now things are over for good." She strokes my arm, then stills, a flash of annoyance crossing her pretty features.

  "Shit, G, If you're a queer, why'd you fuck all my friends?" she asks. I look at her, trying to figure out what she means.

  "Oh. 'M not gay," I murmur after a moment. "I just like Oliver. And not in a gay way. 'Sides the fucking, I guess."

  "Uh-huh," she says. She smacks my arm and I rub it, grumbling. "That's why you want to kill dad. Not just because he's an ass. He fucked with your people."

  "Fucked with you 'n Christian," I mumble. "You're my people. Nobody fucks with you." She smacks my arm again and I scoot away, scowling at her.

  "I don't need your goddamn protection, G, I can take care of myself. But apparently, you need mine. We can't kill dad. Maybe we can get rid of him another way."

  "'m too drunk," I say. The room is spinning now. I shut my eyes and lean back. All I can see is Kelly's face, that smug grin and his bright green eyes watching me, full of desire. His lips are so fucking soft, so fucking real I can feel them on me. A physical burst of pain hits my chest, and everything tightens around my heart. "Fuck, Kelly, I miss you," I mutter.

  "Okay," Lina says, taking a deep breath and throwing her arm around me again. "You've clearly got a one-track mind right now. Tell me about Kelly."

  "He's tall," I say. My words slur and I focus, trying to get them to come out straight. "Tall and with these green eyes that- they see through you and shit. Really hot face. And built. From- from mechanicking. And he works hard. Dunno. He's just- he was nice to have. When I had him. Now he's gonna fuck Dave. I drove him to fucking Dave." That's the worst part of all this, fucking Dave's going to come out on top. I hate Dave. "Goddammit, I fucking hate Dave."

  "Jesus, you love this guy," she says. She's looking at me with so much surprise and disbelief in her face that I wish I hadn't said anything. I look at her like she's an idiot.

  “No,” I say slowly. “I told you. I fucking hate Dave." She smacks my arm.

  "Not Dave, shit for brains. Kelly."

  "No," I clarify. "I like fucking him. Loving him would be gay. 'M not gay." Lina shakes her head at me and stands. "Where you going?" She doesn't answer but a moment later she comes back with a huge glass of water in her hands.

  "Drink." I take a few sips. My throat's dry and fuzzy. "Here's what we're gonna do. We're gonna put you to bed. You're gonna sleep this off. Then when your hung-over ass wakes up we're going to figure this out together. The dad shit. The Kelly shit. Alright?"

  "Can't be with Kelly," I insist, spitting out a couple drops of water. They roll down my chin, cold and oddly soothing.

  "Fuck, man, fine. We'll talk about it tomorrow. You're a sad drunk mess right now and we need to get your ass to bed. Capisce?" I groan as she pulls me to my feet. The world is still spinning, but my eyes are closing. I realize just how exhausted I am. I'm asleep before my head hits the pillow.

  19

  In the morning, my stomach wakes me. I barely make it to the bathroom in time before puking my guts up. My head pounds and the world seems too loud. My knees hurt on the hard tile, but there's not a chance I can get up right now. I'm stuck here until my stomach settles. I flush the toilet. Fuck. I told Lina and Lydia everything last night. Two fucking people, one of whom can’t keep her mouth shut for shit. As if on cue, Marco appears, leaning on the doorframe.

  "Hey G. It's cool if you wanna fuck dudes. Lina said we should tell you. We're all good with it." My face flushes bright red.

  "Fuck you, Marco," I mutter, leaning my forehead against the cool porcelain to get rid of the heat in my face. "I don't wanna fuck dudes."

  "You can admit it," Manny says, his face poking out behind Marco's. God fucking dammit. Him too? Does everyone know my guiltiest secret now? "It's all good, man, it's 2019. You do you, right?"

  "Goddammit. LINA!" I call. There's no answer, so I raise my voice louder. "You fucking gigantic jerkwad."

  "Jerkwad?" Manny asks, turning quizzically to Marco.

  "That's how you know he's hungover," Marco says matter of factly. "His insults suck."

  "You suck," I mumble. They both laugh and I raise my finger at em. It takes more effort than it ever has. "Get me some aspirin."

  "Christian, get gay G some aspirin," Marco calls. When he looks back at me, there's a wicked gleam in his eyes. I flip him off again. I shake my head. My fucking family. All of em are the worst. I swallow the pills, wincing at the throbbing in my head that comes from moving. Christian looks at me with worried eyes.

  "Don't ever drink, kid. Stick to weed," I mumble. He nods. "The fuck is this, a fucking intervention?"

  "It's the opposite," Marco says, his grin growing an inch wider. "It's like a supporting group thing.”

  "You know we don't care you're gay, right?" Christian asks.

  "I swear to fuck- Where is she? As soon as I can stand up without puking I'm gonna punch her stupid-ass face."

  "Hey buddy," she says, sidling up behind Marco. All four of them stand awkwardly together in the doorway, staring at me with stupidly bemused faces. I glare at them each in turn, then glare at the group in general.

  "The fuck you lookin' at?"

  "A gay man who we love," Lina says, smirking at me.

  "I'm not fucking gay, alright? Jesus Christ, leave me alone!"

  "You got an hour to feel better. Family meeting at noon." They file out one by one. Marco's the last one remaining. He gets a strange look on his face.

  "So does it hurt?"

  "Does what hurt," I say through gritted teeth.

  "Ya know..."

  "Get out." He does. I try to think of something clever to say, but another wave of nausea hits me and I puke again instead. Fuck alcohol.

  I'm not feeling much better an hour later, but with a glass of water in my hand and quite a bit of weed, I'm standing. And I stopped puking, which alone is a victory. We gather around on the couch and listen to Lina. She always was the smart one in the family. I rub my forehead, trying to push the headache out.

  "Okay so plan. We can't kill dad, obviously. But we could get him put away."

  "Shit, like jail? Like rat on him?" Manny asks.

  "They'd never know it was us. The guy's been tweaking for the past two weeks. Get him hung up for possession and intent to distribute easy. And god fucking knows he's got priors."

  "That... actually could be a good idea," I say, surprised. Why hadn't I thought of it? "Damn, Lin."

  "Goddamn right," she says. We plan it all out, and I gotta say, it's fucking nice not to have to be in charge for once. I don't know why Lina doesn't tag along on most of the shit we do. It'd probably go a lot better if she did. I lean back into the couch, content to let them figure it out. Manny's the most enthusiastic participant. Every sentence or so he rubs his black eye, a strange shine in his gaze that could be anger or determination. Fuck, or both. Then the conversation turns to what I'm dreading. These fucks are going to try to interfere with my love life. Or sex life. Not love life. Because there's absolutely no love involved.

  "So G. What're we gonna do about your man?"

  "He's not my man," I say reflexively. "And we aren't doing anything about it."

  "C'mon, you came home fucking trashed after dumping the guy and proceeded to tell me all about how fucking tall he is and how green his eyes are. And how he's built from mechanicking."

 
; "You might have said his name in your sleep a couple of times last night too, man," Marco says. I curse. "Alright, more than a few times. And you didn't really say it so much as moan-"

  "Alright, alright," I say, holding out both of my hands to get him to stop. But finally, just for a few seconds, I let myself think about it. Let myself picture his face. He does have a nice fucking face if nothing else. And there's a lot else if I'm being honest. I love that he calls me Gio when nobody else ever has. I love that he gets turned on when I fight, how he pushes me down like he's gotta prove to me that he can. I love how the corners of his mouth twitch when he thinks he's being clever or when he tells a bad joke. I love his eyes, and the way he looks at me. The way he holds me. The way he kissed me. Fuck.

  "Shit, I think I might be into this guy," I say wonderingly. Four pairs of eyes look at me with the same expression of exasperation. My siblings have never looked more alike.

  "You fucking think?" Lina says. My heart jumps, then falls again. I sigh.

  "Well it's too fucking late now. I told him I wasn't gay and that I didn't want to see him again. Ever. He's not gonna take me back after that. I ruined shit. If there was ever even any shit to ruin."

  "Lydia said he was eye-fucking you the whole time you guys hung out."

  "What, you're fucking friends with Lydia now?" I ask. Every fucking person in my life is conspiring to embarrass me. This is what Hell must be like.

  "G. If you don't try, you'll never know."

  "I'm going to bed. If the rest of you could stay out of my sex life for at least like an hour, that would be great." My voice drips with sarcasm. Lina and Manny give me accusing glares. "I'll think about it, alright? Jesus."

  I don't fall back asleep. I just need a fucking minute to think without everyone else in my head. I can't stop seeing his face so close to mine, grinning at me in that dumbass way of his. I remember the press of his body against mine those few nights we actually slept together, the soft sighs he made in his sleep. I can't get him out of my head. Maybe I'll never be able to get him out of my head. He's burrowed in there so deep that he's become part of my brain. Shit, Lydia was right last night. I've never really fallen for a girl. At least I've never felt the way about one as I do about Kelly. Not that I fucking love him or anything like that. But I gotta admit, I've always looked forward to seeing him. My chest does this stupid jump when I see him. And seeing him with fucking Dave hurts. But that could just be Dave.