by Marie Sexton
Zach didn’t even manage to stutter this time. He just stood there with his eyes wide, and I had a feeling I was going to have to answer for him again. The problem was, I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to say yes or no.
Then all of a sudden Jared appeared at my elbow, smiling like always, and I could have kissed him. He was so much better at this shit than I was.
“Hi,” he said to Jonathan, shaking his hand. They started doing the introduction thing, and I didn’t miss how happy Jonathan was by the fact that Jared was with me, and not with Zach. I was starting to have a very bad feeling about this. I looked around for Angelo, but he was nowhere in sight. “Listen,” Jared said to me when they were done, “Angelo and I will be in that gallery over there.” He smiled and said quietly, like it was some kind of secret, “He really likes looking at all the art. It surprises me.” It didn’t surprise me, but I didn’t have a chance to say anything, because Jonathan started talking again.
“Let’s all have dinner tonight! I’ll make us a reservation. How about six o’clock?”
“That sounds great,” Jared said, before either Zach or I could answer.
Jonathan started telling Jared where the restaurant was. I looked at Zach, and could see a hint of panic in his eyes, but he obviously had no idea how to stop this particular train wreck from happening.
And then Angelo was there, grinning like I had never seen before, and I wondered if Jonathan noticed how relieved Zach looked when his eyes landed on Ang. Angelo didn’t seem to notice Jonathan at all. “Zach, come on man. You gotta see this painting—”
“Ang, how do you feel about dinner tonight?” Jared asked, obviously trying to pull him into the conversation, but Angelo wasn’t interested.
“Yeah man, what the fuck ever,” he said with just a hint of annoyance in his voice. He was already heading back to the gallery, and I could tell Zach wanted more than anything to follow him. “Just hurry up, will ya?”
“So, five of us then?” Jonathan asked, and he was definitely a little less enthusiastic about it now.
“Yes,” I said firmly. “Angelo’s coming too.”
Jonathan’s smile returned. “Okay,” he said. “I’ll see you then.” He turned to Zach. “I can’t wait to catch up, Zach.”
“Yeah,” Zach said weakly. “Me too.”
Jared was headed back to the gallery now too. Jonathan started to walk away, but then stopped suddenly and turned back to us. “By the way, the restaurant has a dress code: business casual. It’s not too formal but,” he glanced toward the gallery where Angelo and Jared had disappeared, “you might ask your friend to clean up a bit.” I felt my heart fall inside my chest, and Zach somehow managed to look even more startled than before.
Jonathan either didn’t notice, or didn’t care. “See you then.” He gave us a little wave and walked away, leaving Zach and I in an uncomfortable silence.
I watched Zach, waiting for him to get his shit together. He was staring at the floor, his eyes moving back and forth. I had a feeling he was replaying the whole scene in his head, trying to make sense of it all. He finally looked up at me with frightened eyes.
“What the hell just happened?” he asked.
“We’re apparently having dinner tonight,” I said, “with your friend.”
“Oh God,” Zach moaned, putting his head in his hands.
“Is he that bad?” I asked.
Zach shook his head. “He’s my ex.”
All the pieces suddenly fell into place—Zach’s stunned behavior, and Jonathan’s obvious interest. No wonder Zach looked so worried.
“Let me get this straight,” I said to him. “We’re going to dinner tonight with your boyfriend, and your ex?”
“I think so.”
“At the same time?”
“Apparently,” Zach whispered, in obvious distress.
“You think Angelo’s going to be okay with that?” I asked.
“No!”
I knew it wasn’t Zach’s fault. Not entirely. But I couldn’t help but be a little annoyed at him anyway. “And you have to tell Ang to ‘clean up a bit’.”
“Oh God!” Zach moaned.
“You can say that again,” I told him. “Better you than me.”
…Angelo
FUNNY how Jared and I end up walkin’ together. Not sure how it happened, but he’s talkin’ to me like he used to, and laughin’ too. When I think ’bout how awkward things have been between us ever since New Year’s, it’s kinda nice to know we can be friends again.
We’re walkin’ along, both of us laughin’ at how fuckin’ clueless Matt and Zach are, when we spot the gallery.
I never really looked at art before, but this shit blows me away.
They’re paintings, and they’re awesome. Crazy, and strange, but really beautiful too. Jared says they’re like Salvador Dali. I heard that name before, but don’t really know what his shit looks like, so I don’t know if they look like this or not. All I know is, they’re amazing. They’re like snapshots out of a dream. Maybe they’re little glimpses of another world.
They fly around like butterflies, and nobody notices them, ’cept this artist.
He catches ’em and puts ’em on canvas for everybody to see. For the first time in my life, I understand why people will drop a shitload of money on a painting. First time in my life I wished I could do it too.
I want Zach to see it. I know he won’t get it. I know he won’t see it the way I do. But I want him to see it anyway. I don’t talk to him much ’bout real shit, like how I feel ’bout him. But I feel like if I show him this, he’ll get to see part of me—part of me I haven’t been able to show him before.
Jared’s gone back out to look for ’em. I walk to the door of the gallery and see ’em talkin’ to some dude. Jared’s shakin’ his hand, smilin’ like he always does. Zach looks like he wants to get out of there fast, and when I walk up to him, the relief on his face is obvious.
“Zach, come on man. You gotta see this painting—”
“Ang,” Jared suddenly says, “how do you feel about dinner tonight?”
Why’s he askin’ me ’bout dinner? It’s not even ten o’clock yet.
“Yeah man, what the fuck ever,” I say, tryin’ not to be annoyed at Jared. Just a minute ago I felt like we were friends again, and I want to hang on to that. I head back to the gallery. “Just hurry up, will ya?” I say to Zach. I can tell he wants to come with me. Not sure why he doesn’t.
Jared comes back a minute later, and then Zach and Matt come in.
They’re actin’ weird too. Glancin’ at each other, like they know somebody’s ’bout to get hit by lightning, and they’re just waitin’ to see who.
I’m still lookin’ at the painting. All the pictures are cool, but there’s one ’specially that I love. One that seems like it must have been painted just for me. Zach comes and stands behind me, so I can lean back against him. He puts one arm ’round my neck. I know Jared and Matt wish he wouldn’t be so obvious. I also know Zach doesn’t even realize he acts different than they do. It never occurs to him to worry ’bout what other people think, and I don’t care a bit. I’d never tell him to quit.
His lips are just above my ear. “This is the one you like?” he asks quietly.
“Yes.”
He’s quiet for a few seconds, while he looks at it. “It’s really pretty,” he says. That’s more than I expected. Expected him to say it was weird. “I don’t really get it,” he says, “but it’s nice.”
“Wish we could take it home,” I say.
He glances around. “No price tags on the wall, which is a dead giveaway that it costs more than you and I make in a year.”
“I know. There’s a book too.”
“Why don’t you buy that then?”
“It’s a hundred bucks.”
“Wow,” he says, which is what I thought, too, when the lady told me. “I’m sorry, Ang,” he says. And the thing is, he means it. That’s why I love him so much.
We finally leave the
gallery. Funny how hard it is to walk away.
Zach promises me we’ll come back and see it again before we leave. We wander ’round a bit more, then finally stop for lunch. Matt and Zach are still actin’ weird, glancin’ at each other every minute or two.
“What’s up with you two?” I finally ask.
They both look a little startled. They clearly have no clue how fuckin’ obvious they are, although in their defense, Jared looks surprised too. Like even he didn’t realize they were actin’ like two kids caught standin’ over a broken cookie jar.
“What do you mean?” Matt asks, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“Don’t gimme that,” I say. “What goin’ on?” I’m tryin’ not to laugh, but then I look at Zach. The look he’s givin’ me—I know right then it’s somethin’ I’m not gonna like.
“You remember the man we were talking to earlier, when you came out of the gallery?”
“Sure. Why?”
“We’re having dinner with him tonight.”
Seems kinda weird they decided to have dinner with some guy they just met, but what the fuck ever. Why should I care? “Okay,” I say.
We all sit there for a second. Jared looks as confused as I feel. Matt’s looking everywhere but at me. Zach’s eyes are on mine, but he looks scared to death. And then I find out why. He takes a deep breath and says,
“That was Jonathan.”
It takes me a minute to process that. Zach and I don’t talk much ’bout his past, mostly ’cause I can’t fuckin’ handle it. Can’t stand to think ’bout the guys he was with before me. I know it’s childish, but it’s just the way it is. Still, I know ’bout Jonathan.
“Are you fuckin’ kiddin’ me?” I say, and I know my voice is louder than it should be, and they’re all three motionin’ for me to dial it down a notch. “We’re havin’ dinner tonight with him? The guy who left you? The guy who left Geisha?” Because yeah, not only do I have the boyfriend who used to be his, I have the cat who used to be his too. And how fuckin’ weird is that?
“It was an accident—” Zach starts to say, but Matt interrupts him.
“Might as well tell him the rest too,” he says, and the look Zach gives him is pure venom.
“You mean there’s more?” I ask.
Zach looks back at me and says, “Did you happen to bring any nice shirts with you?”
For a second I can only stare at him. I don’t even know what to say, and let’s face it, that doesn’t happen to me very often. But I finally find my voice again. “Zach, how long you known me? We fuckin’ live together. You think I even own anything nicer than this? You think I been hidin’ my ‘nice’ clothes in my closet, just waitin’ for a special occasion or somethin’?”
“Maybe we can buy something—” Zach starts to say.
“Are you kiddin’? You seen the prices here? I can’t afford to buy a shirt—”
“At another casino, Ang. They’re not all as expensive as this.”
“Why, Zach?” I ask, louder. “Just so I can try to impress your ex-boyfriend?”
“No—”
“I have a shirt,” Jared says suddenly, drownin’ out the argument between Zach and me. “I brought a couple in case we went to a show or something.” He looks over at me, and I know he’s tryin’ to be nice. “I’m not that much bigger than you, Ang. It’ll be good enough.”
“Fine,” I say. But I can’t even look at Zach. There’s a knot in my stomach that I hate. Suddenly even my lunch doesn’t taste good, which sucks, ’cause like everything else in this place, it was expensive as shit.
We finish eatin’ and leave the restaurant. Zach and Jared walk ahead, and Matt falls back to walk next to me.
“You okay?” he asks.
“Just can’t believe it,” I say. “We come all the way to Vegas, and run into Zach’s ex? What’re the odds?”
He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t gamble any more if I were you,” he says, “because as of this moment, you are without a doubt the unluckiest son of a bitch in this whole damn town.”
Like I needed him to tell me that.
BY THE time we’re gettin’ dressed a few hours later, the knot of dread in my stomach has turned into a mountain. I feel that flutterin’ in my chest again—that fuckin’ bird. I haven’t had to deal with him much lately, but he’s there now, lettin’ me know he’s alive and well.
After a stupid amount of discussion, they all decide I’m okay wearin’ my jeans, as long as I “dress them up” a little. What the fuck ever.
I put on the shirt Jared gave me. It’s a little big, but it could be worse.
Zach’s stuff is ’bout the same size, and I know he brought nice clothes too.
But somehow, I’m wearin’ Jared’s shirt. It’s just plain weird.
Then Zach pulls out a tie. ’Cause of course he brought not one of them, but two.
To Vegas.
Sometimes I wonder how we manage to live this life together.
He tries to hand me one, and I just stand there, starin’ at it. “Really?”
I ask.
He smiles at me. “It’s only dinner.”
I take the tie, but I don’t put it on. I don’t even know how to tie the damn thing. And stupid as it is, I don’t wanna have to tell Zach that. He watches me for a second, and then he seems to catch on. He comes over and takes it from me. He puts it around my neck.
“I need you to put your chin up,” he says gently.
I can’t even fuckin’ look at him. Don’t ask me why. I don’t know. I look at some spot over his shoulder while he gets it done, and then he turns me toward the mirror and stands behind me, with his hands on my arms.
“You look great,” he says. I think he must be jokin’, but when I catch his eyes in the mirror, I’m surprised at what I see. Thought for sure he’d be laughin’ at me, but he’s not. I’ve seen that look in his eyes before, lotsa times, and it’s not laughter. Makes me smile. Then I look at myself.
“Christ. Get me some eyeliner and a little hair gel, and I’ll look like Adam Lambert for you.”
“Who?” Zach asks.
“Never mind.” But I can see the interest in his eyes. “Why? You into that?”
He puts his arms ’round me from behind and puts his face in my hair. His voice is soft and sexy in my ear. “Are we talking something like Ziggy Stardust?” he asks as he pushes against me. “Because if so, then yeah, I’m into that.”
I smile at him in the mirror. “No sequins or glitter, but I’ll wear a little makeup for you anytime Zach.” It’s been a lotta years, but it’s not like I’ve never worn eyeliner. I’ve done that scene before.
He’s kissing my neck now, and I can feel his erection pressing against me. “Only if you want to, angel. For now, I’m just thinking how fun it’s going to be to take that tie off of you when this is over.”
“The sooner the better,” I say, and he laughs. But I ain’t kiddin’.
Jonathan’s already waitin’ for us when we get to the restaurant.
Zach’s got his arm ’round my shoulder, and I don’t miss the look Jonathan gives me when he shakes my hand. He’s sizin’ me up, and I’m comin’ up short. And I’m not just talkin’ ’bout him bein’ four and a half inches taller than me.
I didn’t really look at him before, but I do now. He’s just barely taller than Zach, and built the same way, like a runner. I remember now Zach tellin’ me they met on the track back in college. Jonathan changed his class schedule, just so he could run with Zach every morning. And isn’t that just so sweet it makes your teeth hurt? His hair is lighter than Zach’s, and his eyes are brown, and I don’t know shit ’bout fashion, but I’m pretty sure the suit he’s wearin’ costs more than I make in a month.
“I ordered some calamari and a bottle of wine,” Jonathan says, looking right at Zach. “I hope you still like Spanish reds.” Zach smiles at him, obviously a little bit pleased that Jonathan remembered.
I pretty much decide then and there that I hate the so
n of a bitch.
They seat us at one of those big round booths, and Matt ends up across from me. He gives me that shit-eatin’ look he gets, with one eyebrow up, but not quite smilin’. “You look good,” he says, and he barely even winces when I kick him in the shins.
I open my menu, and it’s all I can do to not let my jaw drop when I see the prices. This dinner’s gonna cost more than all the others combined.
Then there’s the fact that I’m gonna need a fuckin’ translator just to order.
Half of it’s in French, and I have to read the descriptions to know what the fuck the food is. Even then, not sure I know.
“What’s a balsamic reduction?” I ask nobody in particular.
I figure Jonathan will be all over that, but it turns out to be Jared who answers me. “It’s when you boil most of the liquid out of the vinegar. It intensifies the flavor and makes a sort of glaze.” He’s not even lookin’ at me, so he can’t tell how shocked I am that he knows the answer. He’s still lookin’ at the menu. “Where’d you see that?”
“How’d you know that?” I ask.
Jared just shrugs, but Matt answers me. “Because he watches the cooking channel all the time.”
“Really?” I ask.
“Any time there’s not football on,” Matt says, and the way he’s lookin’ at Jared, anybody could see how crazy he is ’bout him. “The funny thing is he still can’t cook worth a damn.”
“I can cook,” Jared says, although I know he’s just bein’ a smartass.
“Pop Tarts don’t count.”
“I made you breakfast just the other day.”
“When?” Matt asks, genuinely confused.
“On Thursday.”
I see Matt thinkin’ back to last Thursday, and then he says, “We had toast!”
“I put cinnamon on it.”
“Who did you learn that from?” Matt asks him playfully. “Paula Deen or Rachael Ray?”
Jared just looks back at his menu without even crackin’ a smile. “I think it was Emeril.”
The wine comes, and Jared, Jonathan, and Zach each have a glass.
Matt orders a beer, so I figure it’s okay for me to do the same. I’m wonderin’ how much Jonathan dropped on that bottle, ’cause I can tell Zach’s impressed with it. He slides his glass my way and raises his eyebrows at me. I take a drink, and almost choke on it. Pretty sure I ate dirt as a kid that tasted ’bout like that wine. He must be able to tell by my face I’m not impressed, ’cause he just laughs and says, “More for me.” He leans close to me when he says it, and his voice is soft and quiet, so only I can hear him. Like he’s tellin’ me a secret. I see Jonathan watchin’ us, and it’s so easy to lean closer and kiss Zach. Probably a childish thing to do, but I love the way Jonathan’s face turns red, and he looks away.