by Van Barrett
River's fans also clearly think I'm some kind of deviant with a master plan to turn their hero into a gay guy, which, welllll … I mean, I might like for that to happen, yes. But let's be real. River's his own man. I can't turn anyone gay. Even if I wanted to. And River might very well be gay, but if he chooses to suppress that aspect of himself, hey. That's his choice.
River's fans. That's a weird way to think about it – isn't it?
But it's true: River's fans are doing this to me. That says something. I'm not sure what it says, but it says something. Perhaps that old adage about the company you keep. Sure, River doesn't exactly hang out with his fans. But he keeps them around nonetheless. He caters to his image that keeps these sycophantic nuts orbiting around his personality, his career. Even when they are clearly shown to be as thoughtless and destructive as a swarm of locusts.
Ahem.
These were the things that were swirling around in my head early Saturday morning, with Deke in my lap, while I maniacally typed out my piece on River. If I could just type up a storm, and crank out this stupid piece, I wouldn't have to think about him anymore. Then I'd tell him he'd have to get his ex-girlfriend Cass back in the picture, because I wasn't going to dog-sit for him anymore.
Deke looked up at me, titled his head, and let out a whine. “Myyuuuuuu?”
I shook my finger in his face. “Oh no, Deke. You wanted me out of the picture, remember? You can't change your mind now.”
If River wasn't gonna stand up for me, then damn it, I wasn't going to sit around and let myself get beat up like a straw man by internet trolls anymore.
Of course, if he did stand up for me, then, well, that'd be a different story. Oh, to indulge in my hopeless romantic whims for the last time – yes, I'd love it. I'd love it if River dramatically entered that door, tore his shirt apart so that buttons popped off and scattered on the hardwood floor, and said in a husky, sexy growl:
“Lane. Fuck my hockey career. I want you.”
I'd let him devour me, sure. I'd drop down between his thighs and let his monster spring out once more and I'd suck him the way I love to suck him. Reassuring him with my eyes that he made the right choice. That I'd do this for him for as long as he wanted.
Okay. I got that out of my system. Now I can faithfully say, that ain't gonna happen. Good. Great. We can move on now.
***
One Facebook message I received wasn't from a River cultist. It was from Devon.
“Lane! I've been trying to call you since I found out on Thursday, but your phone goes straight to voicemail! Are you alright?? And why aren't you at your apartment? Call me ASAP!”
'Found out.' I was morbidly amused that she could put it so vaguely, and I'd still know exactly what she meant: that she'd found out about the latest events in my train wreck of a life.
I turned my phone on, called her, and invited her over to River's to enjoy a lovely Friday afternoon together.
“We can hang out and talk and, if you're free later, we'll watch the game together.”
“Totally!”
"And for god's sake, bring booze,” I demanded. “Lots of it.”
“What kind?”
“I don't even care. Tequila, whiskey, beer, wine, it's all on the table tonight.”
My alcohol consumption in recent weeks had been way down. Out of respect to River, maybe? But also partly because his good habits and discipline were infectious, as much as I hated to admit it.
She laughed. “You got it. After I'm done with class, I'll swing by the liquor store and head over.”
Yes, I'd have to talk to Devon about what, exactly, she told Jono. It was, after all, a near-certainty that she'd broken her promise not to tell Jono a word about me. Obviously, I wasn't thrilled about that.
But with that being said, the honest truth was that I was excited for Devon to show up. We hadn't been normal since our fight, weeks ago, when I slipped up and made that bitchy comment about her not settling down with one guy or whatever.
But I knew the issue between us was deeper than that. Because we'd made up over that. And we'd had moments since then, when it felt like things were 'normal' between us … but they still weren't totally normal.
And it's obvious what that was. It was obvious to me, and I'm sure it was to her, too. It was the fact that I'd been screwing River. She'd probably known from day one. She had to. She just knew me like that.
So, once she shows up and we share a few drinks, I'll finally come clean on all that. I'll tell her everything and she'll tell me what's been up in her life and we'll laugh, or cry, or whatever we'll do. And then we'll hug each other and promise not to keep shit like that from each other ever again, no matter how sexy the boys we were fucking are, and no matter how bad they don't want anyone to know.
Whew.
Oh, and in the background, we'll have the Fighting Hawks playing their stupid hockey game on TV. Not because we care, but just to know what the hell's happening next in our dumb lives.
***
A couple hours later, I heard her light rapping at the door. Knock knock.
I answered to find Devon lugging a big brown paper sack that clanked and rattled as she stepped in and we embraced in a hug.
“Lane!” she said cheerily, and maybe a bit anxiously. “It's been too long since we've hung out.”
“Yeah. Yeah, it has. Thanks for coming.” I took the sack from her and peeked in at the various bottles of alcohol. “And thanks for bringing this.”
Deke yipped at Devon. He tried to look tough and fearsome even as he cowered and took shelter under my legs.
“And this little cutie must be Deke.” She knelt down, let the little bastard sniff her hand, and gave him a pat on the head. And Deke, after a skittish wag of his tail, fell in love with Devon. Naturally.
“Soooo,” I trailed off as I poured two glasses of red wine. “I guess you've heard how I achieved insta-fame.”
“Um. Yeah.” Devon went pigeon-toed. “How're things?”
“Things are not so well. I am currently being bombarded with messages 'round the clock by crazed hockey fans. They've now discovered my e-mail address, so there's that, too. I skipped classes today because I couldn't deal with it all.”
“Oh, God.” Devon lent me a sympathetic pout. “I'm so sorry Lane.”
“What can you do?” I handed her a wine glass and we moved to River's leather couch. “I guess, in the grand scheme of things, it's not so bad. Okay, so I'm currently the victim of a little internet rage campaign. All things must pass, right? As long as this doesn't fuck up my real life, oh well. How bad can it get?”
“Yeah.” Devon nodded. “Um. Stan stopped by today to talk to me.”
“What did he have to say?”
“He said that the Dakota Student office is getting flooded with complaints.”
“Great. What about?”
Devon sat on the edge of her cushion. “Just general nonsense, hate-filled gripes about our column.”
“But what about it? They didn't have a problem with the column before, but they do now?”
“I guess in this day and age, people have learned that if they make a big enough stink about something they don't like, they can get it shut it down. The complaints don't even have to be valid. They just have to be loud and numerous.”
“Ugh.” I grumbled. “I'm so sick of this internet outrage, mob mentality stuff.”
“Right?” Devon huffed. “I told Stan as long as the paper doesn't apologize to these people, and if the paper actually backs us with their support, that'll be the end of it. Because these Twitter whackos are powerless. But if we show any sign of weakness, if we cater to their demands whatsoever, it's over. They'll feel like they have moral authority over us.”
“And what did Stan say?”
“He agrees … mostly. But he also says at this point, the issue's growing bigger than him. And that he might not have a say in the matter.”
“Ugh.” I took a sip of the wine and swished it around in my mout
h before swallowing. With notes of savory oak contrasting fruity mallow, I could tell it was a damned good wine. But I've noticed no matter how good a wine is, if you're drinking it with a bad mood, inevitably it's gonna taste bitter. “That makes me so mad.”
“Sorry, I shouldn't have brought it up.”
“No. Don't apologize. I need to stay in the loop.” I sighed. “And speaking of staying in the loop … we seriously need to clear the air.”
Here we go.
40
Catching Up
– Lane –
“We need to have a serious talk, Dev.”
She let out a deep, knowing sigh. “Yeah. I agree.”
“As far as I can tell, there's only one way all this stuff could come out about me.” I shook my head. “And I really hope it wasn't you. But I don't know how else it could've leaked.”
“I know. I know. I'm sorry.” Her shameful gaze dropped to the floor. “I'm so sorry.”
“So you did tell him?”
With a frown, she nodded.
“For God's sake, why, Dev? I told you how much trouble it could cause me!”
“I didn't mean to tell him! He got it out of me!”
I groaned. “It's okay. Please, just tell me everything.”
She bit her lip while her eyes searched skyward. “Um … okay. It'll be easier if I start at the beginning.”
I nodded. “Go on.”
“First of all, Jono knew you existed from day one, because he remembered seeing you the night we first met at Joe Black's.”
“What? How?” My face scrunched up. “We briefly passed by each other that night. That's it. I wouldn't have been able to pick him out of a lineup if my life depended on it.”
Devon shrugged. “Remember that he was smiling at me from across the bar that night? Jono told me later that he and River were trying to figure out if you were my boyfriend or not. Jono thought you were, but River didn't. Once you got up, River encouraged Jono to talk to me.”
“Okay …”
“So, yes, I told Jono that you were my friend, not my boyfriend. As far as I knew, that was all he knew about you. I didn't even tell him your name.” Devon sighed. “I also told him I wrote Bitch and Moan with a friend. I guess I shouldn't have even said that much. But I didn't think that was important, I didn't think he'd find out the rest. I didn't think he'd have a reason to.”
“So how did he figure it out?”
“Remember the evening we met for martinis? The night we had our little kerfuffle?”
I nodded shamefully, remembering the insensitive remarks I made to Devon that night.
“I'm still sorry about that, by the way.”
“Hey. It's okay. I'm over it.” She patted my knee. “But see, that night, I never got to tell you about the big fight me and Jono had earlier. Long story short: he brought up the boyfriend-girlfriend thing again. And I'd tried to laugh it off politely, and I told him 'sorry honey, I'm not your girlfriend.' But, you know, I hinted that if he played his cards right, he might be my boyfriend someday. But he didn't take it well at all. He practically tried to argue me into submission until I'd say I was his girlfriend. I wouldn't do it. And as far as I was concerned, we were basically over at that point – pump the brakes and forget him.”
“Why didn't you tell me all this back when it happened?”
“Well, I tried, Lane, but you wanted to talk about River. And I don't blame you! But I never got a chance to tell you before the night went south.”
“Damn. Sorry.”
“But anyway, back to martini night.” Devon took a deep breath. “Your comment about me never being satisfied with a guy? Well, on the heels of the fight I had with Jono, it made feel guilty. So I called up Jono. Because I felt like, maybe you were right. Maybe Jono wasn't the problem, maybe it was me. Maybe I was a non-committal asshole, just looking for the first sign of trouble so I could bail with a clean conscience. Or worse, maybe I was a dirty, shameful slut or something. Anyway. Jono answered my call and invited me over.”
I slapped my forehead. I could see where this was going. And it was all my fault. “God. Damn.”
“I tried to act normal. But Jono's crafty, man, he can read people. And he needled and pestered at me, asking over and over until he slowly pried it out of me, piece by piece … that something was wrong. That I'd had a fight with my friend Lane.”
“Ugh.”
“And he said to me – 'Gee Dev, how bad was the fight? Do you think you'll still be able to write Bitch and Moan together?' And fuck me, Lane, I fell for it. Duh. Like an idiot. My jaw fell open and I shrieked, 'you mean you know about Lane?!' And he grinned, squeezed my waist from behind, and he whispered into my ear, 'I do now, sweetheart.'”
I stuck my tongue out and gagged. “Oh, God! He sounds like a complete psychopath!”
“Yeah! And believe me, that's the same reaction I had. I screamed and wrestled myself free from his arms. But he laughed, and grappled me, told me to calm down and shushed me until I was too scared to fight back any more. And then he said, 'I was just kidding, Dev! River already told me, that's how I knew. It's fine. Shh.' I calmed down, and I left his place, and I told him that night via text we were done.”
“Holy. Hell.” I was speechless. “Do you think – could that have been true? That River told him?”
“I dunno, Lane. I wanted to believe him. But now, I sure do doubt it. Especially in light of these recent events.” She blew out an angry gust.
“I wish you would've told me.”
“I know. I'm sorry. I should've told you. But I felt guilty that I'd slipped up. I hoped it'd just go away. I wanted to forget it ever happened. Forget about Jono, forget about everything. I didn't think Jono was crazy enough to do anything.”
“What's his problem? Is he homophobic or something?”
“I'm not sure, Lane. We never talked about anything like that.”
“Is he jealous of River? Jono used to be his captain, you know, back when they were teens.”
“He might be. I told you earlier that I'd ask Jono questions here and there about River, right? But Jono never said much, or he'd just change the subject.”
“Right.”
“Which made me wonder if he was hiding something, or if he knew something about River? And I still don't know what the answer is, honestly. Because one day, he kinda got upset and threw a hissy fit, and asked me why I cared so much about River. So I stopped asking. That was the first sign that he was a jealous baby. I should've left then. Ugh.”
“You weren't asking him if River was into guys or anything, were you?”
She made a funny face. “No, of course not, Lane! I'm not stupid. I only asked run-of-the-mill questions about him. What River was like, if he was seeing anybody. I dunno, just random questions, hoping I might hear something interesting I could relay to you. But once it became clear that Jono got all butt-hurt and suspicious anytime I brought up River, I stopped asking.”
“Okay. Well, fuck.” My head throbbed as I tried to process the news. I threw back the rest of my wine and got up. “I think I'm switching to beer. This shit is way too heavy for wine.”
“Good idea. Grab one for me, too.”
I came back with two bottles of beer. She took hers and thanked me.
“I just hope that's the end of it with Jono.” Her eyes looked distant as she took a sip from her bottle. “Something's not right with him, Lane. He's bitter and angry and jealous, and I don't know why he'd do this.”
“So you really think Jono's the guy behind the story about me and River?”
“Ab – so – lutely.” She took another swig of beer. “Who else would? Only question is why he did it.”
“Well goddamn. River's gonna be furious with him when he finds this out.”
“By the way. Speaking of River?” Devon held my eye contact. “You are so transparent, Lane.”
I hunched over and shrunk into a smaller version of myself. “Yeah … I figured you probably knew.”
She
laughed. “Yeah, well, you couldn't have made it anymore obvious. One day you're talking about riding on his motorcycle and his dildo. The next you're ranting about how you think he wants to make a move on you, and then, suddenly, radio silence. You've not said a word about him ever since.”
I sunk my teeth into my bottom lip. “I hope you're not mad.”
“Not at all, dude! Sure, I wanted to know what the hell was going on between you two, but I also didn't want to know. Because if you were afraid to tell me, hell, I didn't wanna know. Besides, who knows, maybe Jono would have some way of getting it out of me.”
“So Jono doesn't know anything about me and River, right? Just to clarify?”
“At least not from me. All he got from me was that you're the co-author of our column.”
I laid my hand over my heart. “Whew. That's a relief.”
“So tell me. How serious is it?”
“Question of my life, right there.” I tilted back my bottle of beer and let the liquid burn as it rushed down my throat. “Isn't it always.”
“Let me ask a different way, then. Have you guys done anything?”
I nodded.
“Held hands?”
I gave her my best oh please eye-roll.
“Have you kissed?”
I tutted and waved my hand to 'keep it coming'.
“Oh my God, you've sucked his dick?”
“Um. Oh yeah.”
Her eyes grew with surprise. “You mean you've done more than that?”
I grew impatient. “What if I told you River was curious? Would you believe it?”
“Details. Now.”
I told her everything she hadn't heard – starting with where we'd left off before things got weird between me and Dev. The story of River catching me with his dildo. How I blew him and almost made him miss his flight. How, when he flew back into town, he came to my apartment to have a 'talk' at midnight about what had happened. How that talk led to him sucking me off, and how I took him to my bedroom and let him fuck me.
