How to Be a Normal Person

by TJ Klune

  Casey fell off the bed.

  CURLED UP into each other late into the night, Gus said, “What were you worried about?”

  “Hmm?” Casey asked, rubbing his forehead against Gus’s chest.

  “Earlier. You said you worried too.”

  “Oh.” He frowned.

  “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to,” Gus said. “I don’t mind.”

  “No,” Casey said quietly. “You’ve given me a lot, you know? And we should be open about this.”

  “About what?”

  “Sex,” Casey said bluntly.

  Gus jerked back, forcing Casey to look up at him. “Sex.”

  “Yeah, man.”

  “But I thought you….”

  “Right. But you’re not.”

  “So?”

  “Xander said he told you. You know. About us.”

  “Yeah,” Gus said, not really sure where this was going.

  “I got jealous,” Casey said. “We were together, but I couldn’t give him the things he wanted. He never pressured me, never forced me to do anything that I didn’t want. But he was used to things being a certain way and I couldn’t do that. Not even with him. So I told him he could get that side of it from others, as long as we were honest with each other. I thought it’d work. There are plenty of ace relationships that are open and thrive. I know couples who do that. I just….” He sighed. “I don’t know. Maybe I had no right, or maybe I did. But I got jealous, knowing he was out there with someone else. It didn’t last very long after that.”

  “Do you still get jealous of him?” Gus asked, not sure if he wanted the answer.

  Casey snorted. “No. Haven’t for a long, long time. I don’t see him as anything but a friend anymore. I’m all about you, Gustavo.”

  “I am pretty cool,” Gus said, trying very hard not to be smug.

  “Vanilla Ice,” Casey agreed. He relaxed against Gus again. “But that’s what I worry about, you know? That we’ll get to that point where it won’t be enough.”

  “It will be,” Gus said, suddenly sure.

  “You don’t know that,” Casey said.

  “And neither do you. That’s kind of the point of relationships, right? To find this stuff out.”

  “Did you learn that from the Internet?” Casey asked, eyes narrowed.

  “Yes,” Gus said, not even remotely ashamed. Well. Maybe a little. “Yes, I did.”

  “I can do… stuff,” Casey said, pressing against Gus. “You know?”

  “Really,” Gus said. He felt fuzzy and warm and happy. “Like what?

  “Like maybe one day you could lay with your back against my chest and I can watch you jack off.”

  And damn, if that didn’t punch the air right out from his chest. “Jesus fucking Christ,” Gus wheezed. “Don’t say stuff like that!”

  Casey grinned, and it was slightly evil. “You’d want to do that? With me?”

  Gus nodded. He’d want that very much. He didn’t need it, but it was nice to know it was an option. He knew he wouldn’t be able to assuage all of Casey’s fears, not in one night, so he made plans to show him every day that there was nothing to fear. And one day, Casey would believe him.

  “Good,” Casey said. “We’ll get there, okay? One day.”

  “Yeah,” Gus said. “Can I kiss you?”

  “Yeah, man. That’d be awesome. I like kissing you. I like pretty much everything about you.”

  “Not a lot of movement,” Gus said, teasing him lightly.

  “Not a lot,” Casey agreed. “Maybe some.”

  And he lifted himself up, pressing his forehead against Gus’s. For a moment, they stayed where they were, breathing in each other’s air. Then Casey lowered his mouth and brushed their lips together. Gus brought his hand up to the back of Casey’s head, holding him gently. There was movement, but just a little. Casey sucked Gus’s bottom lip between his own and Gus tightened his hold. He felt Casey’s beard scrape against his face, felt Casey’s nose bump into his own, and for the first time in a very long time, Gus didn’t think of himself as abnormal. Or weird. Or strange. Or sad or grumpy or anything else, for that matter.

  No. Gustavo Tiberius thought there was a very real chance that he might be completely happy.

  And that felt just fine.

  THE NEXT morning.

  “Puppy on a Hot Tin Woof? Oh my fucking god. Why the hell would you let me say anything like that?”

  “Hey, man. That’s all on you. I still think it’s awesome.”

  “Poodle hookers? Casey. Poodle hookers. What the hell.”

  “So. No cowriting a novel?”

  “No cowriting a novel, oh my god.”

  Epilogue

  RECORDING OF a customer call taken by Pacific Northwest Cable service representative Mitzi Reniger on September 24th, 2014, at 11:31 A.M. THIS RECORDING IS USED FOR INTERNAL REVIEW ONLY. DO NOT RELEASE RECORDINGS TO THE PUBLIC.

  “Thank you for calling Pacific Northwest Cable, this is Mitzi and this call may be recorded for quality assurance. How may I provide you with excellent service today?”

  “Oh my god.”

  “I’m… sorry? Can I help you?”

  “Is this Mitzi with an i or a y?”

  “This is Mitzi with an i. Two of them, in fact! To whom am I speaking?”

  “Gustavo Tiberius.”

  “Oh no. No, dear god, no. I mean… uh. Hello, sir. I do believe this is the first time we’re speaking. Ever. It is a pleasure to speak with you. For the first time.”

  “Mitzi, Mitzi, Mitzi.”

  “Is there something I can assist you with today, Mr. Tiberius?”

  “I am going to do something you have never heard of before. Something you’ll probably find shocking. Prepare yourself. Mitzi, I’d like to cancel the Internet.”

  “W-w-what?”

  “Are you laughing at me?”

  “Of course not! I just thought of a funny joke at the exact same time you said that.”

  “Really. What was the joke?”

  “What.”

  “The joke, Mitzi. I want to hear it.”

  “Um. Okay. What… um. Oh! What do you call it when Batman skips church?”

  “I’m sure I have no idea.”

  “Christian Bale.”

  “….”

  “Mr. Tiberius?”

  “Okay. You got me. That was funny.”

  “You’re… not laughing?”

  “I am on the inside. Now, about canceling my service?”

  “Do you have your Pacific Northwest Cable account number?”

  *Edited to protect consumer privacy*

  “Okay, I have your account. Thank you for being a loyal Pacific Northwest Cable customer for the last twelve years.”

  “You said that the last time. It feels as meaningless and empty now as it did then.”

  “Wonderful. Can you please verify the address?”

  *Edited to protect consumer privacy*

  “And your date of birth and the last four digits of your social security number.”

  *Edited to protect consumer privacy*

  “Okay, Mr. Tiberius. You said you wanted to cancel your Pacific Northwest Cable’s Super Xtreme Broadband Internet Service, is that correct?”

  “Yes.”

  “I would be more than willing to help you out with that today. Now, Mr. Tiberius, while I’m opening the correct screen to process your cancelation, I’d like to ask you some questions if I may.”

  “Of course you would.”

  “It’s just standard procedure, Mr. Tiberius.”

  “You say that, but I know what you’re doing. I’m onto you, Mitzi.”

  “Oh dear. Okay. Um. How often would you say you used Pacific Northwest Cable’s Super Xtreme Broadband Internet Service?”

  “Daily. Multiple times a day.”

  “Oh. I… was not expecting that answer.”

  “Why?”

  “Well, last time you… never mind. What did you use it for?”
/>
  “Things.”

  “Like….”

  “Just. To look up stuff.”

  “Any stuff in particular?”

  “No! And if you’re insinuating that I learned how to get your mouth pregnant off of Tumblr, then I resent that remark! I really do!”

  “I don’t… I’m not….”

  “You know, in all honestly, I blame that on you. You were the one that sold me the Internet. The very least you could have done was warn me that places like Tumblr exist. How is it that on one page, you see a kitten sneezing into a bowl of water, and the very next, there is someone getting anally fisted? I mean, why is it like that?”

  “I honestly don’t know if I’m qualified to answer that question.”

  “I would be worried if you were.”

  “So. You looked up things on the Internet.”

  “Yes.”

  “Like, on Wikipedia?”

  “Sometimes. It was one of those ‘-pedia’ sites, though I’m not sure it was properly sanctioned by Wikipedia. Someone should write to them and tell them someone is copying them on the Internet, because I assume that never happens. It doesn’t seem right.”

  “Okay. Sure. Why not. Did you ever go to any entertainment sites, or the like?”

  “I tried to hack into Michael Bay’s website, but it turns out I don’t know how to be a hacker. Which wasn’t all that surprising.”

  “Michael Bay.”

  “Yes, the director. Or, in layman’s terms, the trash collector.”

  “Oh. I see. Not a fan?”

  “Is the sky blue?”

  “Yes?”

  “Right. Okay. I don’t know where I was going with that. No, I’m not a fan.”

  “My nephews liked the Transformers movies.”

  “I’m sorry for your loss.”

  “What?”

  “Nothing. Canceling?”

  “Right. Um. Wow, Mr. Tiberius! It sure seems like you use the Internet quite a bit. Is there a reason you’re wanting to cancel Pacific Northwest Cable’s Super Xtreme Broadband Internet Service with MegaCheck Security, also known as the fastest and safest Internet experience around?”

  “Yes. I managed to make the asexual hipster stoner my boyfriend and he doesn’t think I’m weird so I no longer have to look up how to be a normal person.”

  “….”

  “Mitzi.”

  “I literally don’t know what to say to that. I’ve done this job for seven years. Seven. Years. I have scripts right in front of me that cover three hundred and forty-seven potential situations that can come up during retention calls. It feels like I have to go to customer service training every other day in order to learn new ways to face customer challenges. And not once have I ever had anyone call me and tell me what you just did. I have never been trained for this. I don’t know what to do.”

  “Oh. You’re welcome? I guess.”

  “So, it worked, huh?”

  “What did?”

  “The winkie face. You sent the winkie face, didn’t you? You sent the winkie face and now you’re in love and stuff.”

  “What! Of course not! I don’t even know what you’re—hey! I thought you said this was the first time we were speaking. Mitzi! You’re a liar! And why do you sound so smug? You smug liar!”

  “Hold, please.”

  “What! Why are you—”

  “Thank you for holding. We are here to provide you with a Cabletastic experience and—”

  “Oh my god.”

  “—your Cabletastic representative will be right back on the line. Did you know that you can optimize your Pacific Northwest Cable’s Super Xtreme Broadband Internet Service with MegaCheck Security? Ask your representative how you can—”

  “Oh my god.”

  “—have the fastest speed available and we’ll make it happen! Now, please enjoy the following preview for an entertainment experience coming soon to Pacific Northwest Cable. Dun dun duuuuuuuun. From director Michael Bay, comes a story of true love and the power of the human condition. And copious amounts of gratuitous explosions in slow motion. Michael Bay presents Michael Bay’s Tsunami Drama—”

  “What! Mitzi! You take me off hold! Mitzi!”

  “—a beautiful love story set against the back drop of a global warming pandemic. Cities will fall. Oceans will rise. Their love will keep them afloat. Tsunami Drama. Rated PG-13.”

  “Why is this even a thing?”

  “Mr. Tiberius?”

  “Mitzi. Oh thank god. Listen. Please. Dear god. Please Just. Cancel. Cancel it all.”

  “It’s done, Mr. Tiberius. I canceled it for you. Your Internet has been disabled.”

  “Wait. What? I thought you were going to ask a billion more personal questions and then tighten the noose to try and retain me as a customer?”

  “Mr. Tiberius, you got the Internet to figure out how to woo an asexual stoner hipster. You were successful. There is literally nothing I could say that would get you to keep the Internet.”

  “Oh. Well. This is true. Huh. This went a lot quicker than I thought it would. Mitzi. I wish I could say it’s been a pleasure. But I can’t. So I won’t.”

  “Of course, Mr. Tiberius. I even waived the fee to break the contract.”

  “You did? Why would you do that? Is this some form of emotional blackmail? I swear I’ll—”

  “No blackmail. No contracts. No fees. Go with the grace of God.”

  “That was awfully religious-y. Don’t force your god on me, Mitzi. I don’t want your pamphlets left on my door!”

  “I wouldn’t even attempt to try. Is there anything else I can do to help you today?”

  “No. No, no there isn’t. Well.”

  “Mr. Tiberius?”

  “Hypothetically.”

  “Oh no. No, no, no. Maybe you should—”

  “Hypothetically. Let’s say that you were dating an asexual stoner hipster. And let’s say he’s back in LA packing up his life to move to Abby, Oregon, probably for good. You with me?”

  “As much as I’m forced to be given that I cannot disconnect customer phone calls without getting reprimanded.”

  “Good. Now. Let’s say you might be in love with said asexual stoner hipster. Now, this is all hypothetical, mind you.”

  “Oh, of course.”

  “Right. So. How might one go about informing said asexual stoner hipster that you are in fact in love with them?”

  “You could just… tell him.”

  “What? I’m not talking about me!”

  “Right. Sorry. Hypothetically, a person could just tell the asexual stoner hipster about their feelings.”

  “It wouldn’t be too soon?”

  “Maybe. But not if that is what is truly felt.”

  “Huh. Okay. So how do I—I mean, how does one go about admitting this?”

  “You mean, like, a love confession?”

  “What? Don’t ever say that to me again. Love confession, oh my god. We’re not thirteen-year-old girls reading Tiger Beat or Reader’s Digest or whatever the hell they read these days. Love confession. What the hell.”

  “Uh-huh. So, hypothetically, it’s not a love confession, it’s just confessing to someone that there is love.”

  “Exactly! You got—oh. I see what you did there. Goddammit.”

  “But this is all hypothetical, so.”

  “Right. Hypothetical.”

  “Mr. Tiberius?”

  “What?”

  “You really love him, don’t you?”

  “….”

  “It’s okay if you do.”

  “I’m not sending him a goddamn winkie face, Mitzi, so get that out of your head right now.”

  “I think it’s sweet.”

  “Oh gross.”

  “Just tell him that, then.”

  “What. Like. I love you?”

  “Mr. Tiberius, please. I have a husband.”

  “Oh my fucking—”

  *Customer disconnected phone call*

  “SO WHE
N does he get back?” Bernice asked as she leaned against the counter at the Emporium.

  “Why?” Gus asked, rubbing Harry S. Truman’s belly as the ferret tried to gnaw on his fingers.

  “No reason,” Bernice said. “He’s been gone three weeks and I just want to make sure everything is going smoothly.”

  “She’s already decorated the room at the house she’s going to use when she kidnaps him,” Betty said. “I caught her researching where to purchase chloroform and what is the safe amount to use on a person without causing any long-lasting damage.”

  “Hmrph,” Bernice said. “I have wide and varied interests such as decorating and knocking people unconscious so I may keep them subdued more easily. That has absolutely nothing to do with Casey.”

  “Should I be concerned here?” Gus asked.

  “Absolutely not,” Bernice said. “Casey probably just will need to go on a six-month business trip in the near future where he won’t be allowed to have any contact with you. Because of business.”

  “Oh good lord,” Bertha said, standing in front of the C section. “I had to sit through a remake of Charlie’s Angels which was essentially a cinematic abortion, only to find out there’s a second one?”

  “I don’t know,” Betty said. “I’d Drew her Barrymore any day of the week.”

  “Yuck,” Gus said. “That was potent.”

  “Yeah,” Bernice said. “I’d Cameron her Diaz.”

  “It’s like I can taste it,” Gus said, grimacing.

  Bertha sighed. “I suppose I must Lucy her Liu then.”

  “This can’t possibly be sanitary,” Gus said. However, it was enlightening, and maybe one day, he’d finally have the coverage to ask if they were ménage dykes or sisters. He couldn’t quite say one way or another yet. He hoped he’d never walk in on them Drewing their Barrymore if it turned out to be a polyamorous situation. He didn’t think his heart could take it.

  Casey had been gone twenty-two days, not that Gus was keeping track. At all. Granted, it’d been a quiet couple of weeks without him, a flashback to life before. Gus was not a fan of the life before. Luckily (well, depending upon how you look at it), Casey felt the need to text Gus constantly about anything and everything. Gus had received such gems as meat sammich 4 dnnr and U r kewl <3 and Saw Cgull fghtng chkn burrito WTF *o/*. He was getting better at understanding texting, but there were times it was like Casey was speaking using hieroglyphics and Gus most definitely was not ancient Egyptian.