by Alexa Land
That longing for commitment was something I was used to, a part of me I disliked, but that I understood. I’d always hated being alone, and that had been turned up to deafening levels after I lost my entire family with the words, “I’m gay.” I totally got why I was driven to replace all I’d lost with someone of my own, someone who’d be there for me and love me and care about me, someone who wouldn’t turn his back on me the way everyone I loved had.
But while I was used to wanting a relationship, the feelings behind whatever was happening between Kai and me were brand new. It wasn’t that I needed just any random relationship, it was that I needed him. I needed to hear the sound of his voice, and to feel his hands on my body. I needed to talk to him for hours, and listen to everything he had to say. Malakai Kahale was unlike anyone I’d ever met. He was kind and loving, and smart and interesting. He was so sexy that I wanted to tear his clothes off, pretty much all the time. He fascinated me, and in turn, acted like I was fascinating, too. He’d become my best friend, and so very much more.
And if I’d just blown it with him, I was never going to forgive myself.
A faint sound caught my attention. I sat up a bit and pulled the blanket off my head. The sound came again after a moment, a little tap. I wasn’t sure what I was hearing, but I tossed the comforter aside and got out of bed, then went and looked out in the hall. Nothing.
Another little tap drew my attention to the window, and I crossed the room and pulled my curtains aside. Kai was in the backyard, bathed in moonlight. My heart leapt and I dashed from my room. I took the stairs two at a time, ran through the foyer and kitchen, and out the back door.
Before he could say a word, I grabbed him in an embrace and said, “I’m so sorry. I know I shouldn’t have dropped by like that. I won’t do it again, I promise.”
He picked me up and said as I wrapped my legs around his hips, “It’s okay, Jessie.”
I pulled back to look at him. “It is?”
“I was a little thrown off at first, but I’m not mad. Mal has a big mouth, so I’d always dreaded what she’d say when you two finally met. She told me about your conversation.”
“I really am sorry. The fact that you have dyslexia is none of my business, and I wish she hadn’t said anything.”
“Oh, I don’t care about that.”
“You don’t?”
He shook his head. “It’s the stories about my childhood I could have done without. God, talk about embarrassing! I’m not ashamed that I have dyslexia, far from it. I hadn’t told you about it yet because it doesn’t define me. Yeah, while I was growing up, other kids were assholes to me because of it, and to this day people sometimes assume I’m illiterate or incompetent when they see me trying to read or write, but I know they’re wrong. My challenges don’t have a thing to do with my intelligence or how capable I am.”
“I’m so glad you don’t let them get to you.”
“It took me a long time to get to this point. I used to be so self-conscious about reading or writing in front of other people and letting them see me struggling,” Kai told me as he sat down on a bench with me on his lap. “But remember what I told you once about truly not giving a shit about what others think of me? That goes for my dyslexia, too. In fact, it’s what made me learn not to let others’ opinions get to me.”
“You’re so strong. I admire that.”
“I’m not a hundred percent there yet. It still hurts sometimes when people are cruel and judgmental. But I’ve made a lot of progress.”
I shivered a bit, since I was barefoot and in just my cat pajamas, and Kai said, “You should go back in, I don’t want you to catch a chill.”
“Will you come with me?” He nodded and carried me to the back door to keep my bare feet off the cold walkway. When we were in the kitchen and he’d put me down, I said, “I’m going to make some hot chocolate to warm up, would you like some?”
“Sure.”
He sat on one of the barstools at the kitchen island and pulled off his leather jacket while I warmed some milk in a pot. I asked, “Was it hard to get Izzy back to sleep? I’m really sorry I woke her.”
“It did take some time to get her to go to sleep again, but don’t worry, I don’t think you woke her. She’d been having a bad dream. It’s good I came home when I did, actually. Not that her gran, great-gran or auntie couldn’t have handled it, but I’m glad I was there for her.”
“Does she have bad dreams a lot?”
“Fortunately no. She sleeps like a rock. That’s why it usually doesn’t matter if I spend the night at the garage.”
I prepared a couple mugs with cocoa mix, then turned to Kai and offered him a little smile. “I was so happy to see you that I forgot to ask why you’re here.”
“Mal said you seemed worried when you left, and that you thought I’d be mad at you. I wanted to make sure you didn’t think that was the case. I was going to call, but then I decided to take a chance and see if you were still up.” He grinned at me and added, “Plus, I was sorry I missed out on seeing you.”
“I’m glad you’re here, and I’m so relieved you’re not angry.”
“I thought it was romantic, showing up in the middle of the night and tossing pebbles at my window. I wish I’d been there to enjoy it.”
“I’m not supposed to do stuff like that, though. You didn’t want me to meet your family yet, so I shouldn’t have come to your house.”
“The only reason I’m still keeping you and the adults in my family apart is because they’re such loud-mouths. They can’t keep quiet to save their lives! As soon as you meet my mom and gran, they’re going to start gabbing about you all the freaking time, and Izzy will hear I’m dating someone and she’ll get curious. I probably should have introduced you to Mal by now, but good lord, you two talked for less than ten minutes, and look how much humiliation she managed to pack into that short conversation! My twin has no filter.”
“She’s nice, though.”
“I’m glad you think so. She can rub people the wrong way sometimes. I was dreading what would happen when you two met.”
“Well, we’ve gotten that over with now, and it was only a minor catastrophe. On my part, not hers. She was great, and I was the weirdo climbing up onto your porch after midnight.”
Kai pulled me to him, and as I draped my arms over his shoulders, he said, “This only-on-the-weekend thing is killing me. We have to find opportunities during the week to be together, even if it’s just an hour or two so we can do this.” He kissed me gently and I sank into it.
When the hot chocolate was ready, we took it upstairs to my room and curled up on top of the covers. We chatted for a while as we sipped our drinks, and then I said, “So, I have something I want to talk to you about. There’s a masquerade ball next Saturday. It’s also a new artists show, and it’s raising money for an LGBT art scholarship. I mentioned it to you when we were talking about Chance and his photos a few weeks back.”
“I remember.”
“Originally, I was going to ask you to be my date. But then, I realized this would be an amazing experience for Izzy and thought you might want to take her. I have a couple tickets for the two of you if you want them. She’d get to dress up like a princess and go to the ball. Just so you know, it’s all ages and a few other kids will be there, but it’ll mostly be adults. I think she’d still enjoy it, though.”
“I know she would.”
I downed the last sip of cocoa and said as I looked into my empty mug, “The only thing that might be kind of awkward is the fact that I’ll be there too, and I know you don’t want to tell her we’re dating. But we don’t have to. We could just say hello and leave it at that. I mean, I’d love to share a dance with you, but if you don’t want to for Izzy’s sake, that’s fine.”
Kai said gently, “I’d love to dance with you at the ball.”
I looked up at him. “I’m glad. I wasn’t sure how you’d feel about any of this.”
“There’s no reason we can’t bo
th be there, and Izzy will be thrilled to see you. She hasn’t forgotten about Valentine’s Day.” He kissed my forehead and said, “She’s going to be so excited. Now I’ll just have to figure out what we’ll wear.”
“I know this guy who owns a costume shop just outside Chinatown, he’ll hook you both up. I bought a couple costumes from him and sent a bunch of my friends there, so he gave me a voucher for a free costume to say thank you. It’s with your tickets. I hope you can find Izzy something pretty.”
Kai put our empty mugs on the nightstand and drew me into a hug. “She’s going to have the time of her life. Thank you for all of that, Jessie, and especially for wanting to do something nice for my daughter. I can’t even tell you what it means to me.”
“I’m so relieved. I’d been putting off asking you about this for a while now. I didn’t know how you’d feel about me inviting Izzy to an event I’d also be attending. I didn’t want you to think I was trying to worm my way into her life or something.”
“I don’t think that at all.” He rubbed my back as he said, “You worry a lot, but you really don’t need to.”
Kai ended up spending the night. Long after he drifted off, I stayed awake with my head on his chest, holding on to him. His steady breathing and his heartbeat under my palm were incredibly soothing.
I felt fragile that night. My grandpa used to call it feeling puny. I knew I had to get it together. But just for that night, I let myself take comfort in Kai, in the feeling of his arms around me, in his warmth, in just being near him. He felt so good. So reassuring.
It was almost scary, how hard I was falling for Malakai Kahale.
Chapter Twelve
Zachary grinned at me and asked, “So, what are we, good and evil?”
“I think of it as fire and ice.”
“Why are you ice?”
“It fits with my coloring. Just go with it.”
It was the following weekend, and my friend and I were dressed for the costume ball in the outfits I’d gotten us. He was checking out his reflection in the full-length mirror on the inside of my closet door and trying to decide if he felt too stupid to go out in public. I thought he looked great.
He and I were both dressed like princes. Zachary’s costume was black with a few red accents, and mine was white with ice blue embellishments at the neck, cuffs, and in my jacket’s silky lining. Both outfits were fairly understated and comprised of dress pants, fitted collarless jackets, and crowns (mine silver, his black metal). The part he was having a hard time with was the sparkle. The pants were matte wool, but the jackets were covered in a fabric I didn’t have a name for, which looked like it was sprinkled all over with fine, tone-on-tone glitter.
“You look amazing,” I told him. “It fits like it was made for you.” I was standing behind him and put my hands on his narrow waist, which was accentuated perfectly with the cut of the jacket.
“Do I have to wear the sash? I feel like a runner up in the Miss Preteen beauty contest.”
“I won’t make you wear the sash. Or the sword.”
“Oh now, the sword’s cool. That I’ll wear.”
I grinned and said, “Perfect. Then we can duel if the masquerade ball gets dull.”
He tried on the elegant black mask I’d gotten to go with his costume and said, “And now I look like Gay Zorro. It would have just been Standard Zorro, but since you raided a really flamboyant figure skater’s wardrobe for these jackets, it’s gay all the way.”
“Oh believe me, these outfits are mild compared to what I could have gotten us. We could be standing here in puff sleeves, satin capes, and tights.”
Zachary turned to me and smiled as he said, “No, we really couldn’t.”
Someone knocked on the door, and when I called, “Come in,” Ollie stuck his head into the room. He was wearing a white, powdered wig, a hot pink velvet overcoat with all kinds of fringe and trimmings, and white breeches and stockings. The outfit was very period-accurate, aside from the hot pink Converse hightops (which I’d lent him when the pointy dress shoes he’d gotten proved too uncomfortable to actually wear). “You look great,” I told him.
“Thanks kiddo, so do you. I’m supposed to be Louis the sixteenth, on account of he was Marie Antoinette’s hubby and that’s more or less what Stana’s going for with our costumes. She sent me to see if you boys are ready to go.”
I glanced at Zachary, and he said, “Yeah, okay. I can sparkle for one night.”
I grabbed a pair of belts with scabbards and swords, and as we headed downstairs, I said, “I’m glad you kept your hair black with a red streak, Zachary. It goes perfectly with your outfit. That’s actually what inspired me to select these costumes.”
He said, “Thank you, Jessie. I’m sorry if I seem ungrateful. It was nice of you to think of me and to buy us buddy costumes.”
“Thank you for playing along. I hope you have fun tonight.”
On the ground floor, Nana had struck a pose in the foyer. She wore an enormous, heavily embellished pink dress with a rainbow petticoat peeking out underneath, and a towering rainbow wig that swirled like a soft-serve cone. “You look beautiful Nana,” I told her, and she beamed at me from beneath the ornate pink and white mask that framed her eyes.
“I love getting dressed up,” she said, relaxing her pose and fluffing the layered silk skirt. “You boys are cute as can be, too.” As we headed out the door, she bounced a bit and told us, “I can’t wait to get to the masquerade ball! Christopher Robin’s expecting a sold-out crowd. I hope this night’s a huge success for him and for all the artists in the show.”
I drove us to the venue in the rainbow limo, stopping to pick up Dante and Charlie on the way. They were both dressed in impeccable black tuxedos, and had donned coordinating Venetian masks in black and gold. “You guys look great,” Zachary said.
“Yeah, but they don’t have swords, so we win,” I told him, and grinned at Dante and his husband in the rearview mirror.
Excitement was in the air when we pulled up to the venue. The ball was being held in an old warehouse that took up one of the piers along the Embarcadero. Both sides of the long structure were mostly glass, and warm, golden light spilled out and was reflected on the tranquil bay. A starry sky on a rich, indigo background and a nighttime cityscape had been painted onto the front of the warehouse just for that evening, transforming the usually utilitarian structure into something magical. I dropped off my passengers at the door, then headed to the VIP parking lot across the street, were Christopher had designated a spot for Nana.
I took in the spectacle as I walked back to the building. The valets were busy, but just as many people were arriving by public transit. A stop for the quaint, historic streetcars that ran up and down the Embarcadero was just a few yards away, and it seemed as if all the passengers were in costume when the little yellow streetcar came to a stop and everyone emptied out.
In true San Francisco style, the attendees had been pretty creative. While about half the crowd had opted for gowns, tuxedos or suits, and other finery, the other half had gone with straight-up cosplay. Superheroes, gladiators, giant stuffed animals, characters from books, movies and video games, and so much more converged on the warehouse. I loved the city so damn much at times like this.
I gave my ticket to one of the people manning the door in exchange for a hand stamp. Then I pulled my white silk mask over my eyes, stepped through the gauzy indigo drapes over the open doorway and muttered, “Damn.”
Five giant chandeliers had been brought in for the event and sparkled from the thirty-foot ceiling, a gorgeous contrast to the industrial interior. At the far end, a big, eclectic band played, elevated on a high stage. It included a full horn section, electric guitars, drums, violins, and a male lead singer, and at the moment they were performing a slowed down version of a Britney Spears song. Oddly, it sounded terrific.
Four of Skye’s sculptures dominated the big space. They rose above the vibrant crowd, like giants wading in a sea of humanity. I’d seen
three of them before. He’d completed the sculptures of a male dancer leaping gracefully (inspired by his husband) when he was enrolled in art school.
The fourth was new, and it was astonishing. It was a slightly abstract male angel, knee deep in the crowd that was gathered around him, his face tilted up and his body arched back. He was almost twenty feet tall, wings and arms outstretched. The angel was comprised of an open framework of rusted metal, and the delicate-looking feathers of his wings were charred and mostly black. His wingspan was easily fifty feet across and the whole thing must have weighed a ton, so I had to wonder how they’d gotten it here. But it wasn’t the scale that was so striking. Raw agony was conveyed perfectly and eloquently in his facial features and the position of his body and wings. A white light radiated from inside his chest and gave the impression his soul was being torn from him. Skye always seemed so happy and upbeat, but that sculpture made me think he must have gone through a dark period in his life. The pain was too genuine to come from anyplace but the heart.
Zachary found me in the crowd. He’d put his black and red mask on, and his hair spilled forward to cover even more of his face. He called over the din, “I think half of San Francisco is here.” That wasn’t a good thing from an introvert’s perspective. I took his hand and held it tightly.
“Have you seen Chance or his photos?”
“Not yet. I haven’t ventured far from the door, because I was waiting for you.”
Seven artists were featured in the show, including Skye. The work of the four painters and two photographers was displayed on freestanding curved walls, spaced at regular intervals down the length of the warehouse, three to a side. The walls were all curved a bit differently, creating a kind of fluidity as we moved along the left side of the space. We came to Ignacio Mondelvano’s bold, bright oil paintings first, and halfway down the warehouse, we found Chance’s photos.
