by A. T Brennan
That’s good. Do you have a break now?
Not really, but I’m going back to my normal work, so I won’t have to pull these kinds of hours until the next crisis.
A break is a break, right? :)
Right :) How have you been?
I was pleasantly surprised with how easily the conversation was flowing. There was no hesitation in Caleb’s messages. That was a good sign.
Good. I paused, not sure which direction I should go. If it was anyone else, I probably would have video called them, but that didn’t seem like the best idea with Caleb. I have the night off work, so I’m chilling.
Doing what?
Trying to decide what to watch on Netflix.
So you’re going to Netflix and chill with yourself ;)
Lol. I guess I am. What are you up to?
I was going to log online and play some Hearthstone.
That’s a video came, right?
Lol. Right. You’re not much of a gamer?
If by not much you mean not at all, then yes.
Lol. Games aren’t for everybody.
Well, they are your job, so it makes sense that you enjoy them.
You’re a bartender, does that mean you enjoy beer ;)
I laughed and impulsively took a photo of the beer on my coffee table and sent it to Caleb.
I guess it does ;)
There was a pause in the messages, and for a moment I worried that I’d crossed some sort of line by sending a picture, even if it was just of a beer.
Meet my Friday night companion.
Attached to the message was a picture of a half-empty glass of what looked like chocolate milk. I remembered how Caleb said he couldn’t drink on his medication and chuckled.
Now that’s a good companion. Might have to trade in my beer for what you’re having :)
Not a big drinker?
Not really. I’ll have a beer or two, but I’m kind of past drinking for the sake of getting drunk.
I never got to experience that.
You didn’t miss much. Most of it is kind of a blur, although I do remember hugging a lot of toilets and making a fool out of myself on several dance floors thinking I could pull off some fancy moves.
Lol. That I would like to see.
Me puking or dancing like a fool?
Dancing like a fool.
That’s easy. Picture a gorilla crossed with a baby deer trying to walk across a frozen pond. That’s essentially it.
Lmao :) Oh god, you made me spit out my milk! Lol.
I got a spit take out of you? *raises arms in victory* Go me! Lol.
I’m going to put my glass aside for now. I don’t know if my couch could survive another one of those.
I chuckled and put my feet up on the coffee table as I leaned back. It would seem that once you took away the face-to-face aspect of talking in person, Caleb was able to open up more. That was interesting and good to know.
Almost an hour later, my phone battery was getting low, and I was amazed at how we’d talked almost nonstop. There had been a few moments where autocorrect had garbled our messages or something had been misinterpreted, but there’d been no awkward pauses or stalled moments.
My battery is telling me I talk too much lol. Am I keeping you from your gaming?
Not at all. I was going to play to pass some time, but I’m having fun.
Me too :)
My battery is getting low too. I don’t think I’ve ever texted this much before.
Me either, and I mean cumulatively lol.
Same lol.
So...maybe this is a good time to say goodbye until next time?
Sure. Are you working tomorrow?
Yup. I’m doing a closing shift, but I’m off Sunday. What about you?
I usually work from 6-2.
In the morning? Holy shit you’re an early riser.
No lol. p.m. I’m a night owl.
Oh good. I am too. Another reason working at a bar fits my life lol. Maybe we can plan to talk again on Sunday? If you don’t have to work.
I take weekends off :) Sunday sounds good.
Great! I’ll talk to you then.
Have a good night :)
You too :)
I stared down at my now silent phone and grinned. That had gone better than I could have hoped.
Chapter Four
Caleb
THE MUFFLED SOUND OF chiming bells and the slight shaking of the floor made me pause my game and look at my door.
One of the reasons I’d chosen to live in this small apartment in a multi-unit home was because my landlord had been okay with me adding modifications to make day-to-day life easier.
The old-school chime bell positioned on the floor behind my couch was activated by the doorbell. If someone rang it, then the bell would chime and create slight vibrations and a loud clanging sound to alert me to their presence. The same bells were also linked to the fire alarm, but if it was to go off, then my lights would begin to blink and sensors in my bed were set to vibrate.
Living independently with profound hearing loss wasn’t easy. The fear of not being able to hear an intruder or sleeping through a fire alarm were very real possibilities, but I’d done what I could to make the space more accessible. It gave me peace of mind, and after so many years of feeling like my life was spinning out of control, it was something I desperately craved.
I picked up my phone and opened the app that controlled the security camera outside my door. When I saw who it was, I smiled.
Lizzie. I greeted with a smile as I threw open the door.
Instead of answering me, Lizzie grabbed me in a bear hug and squeezed me against her smaller body. I hugged her back, closing my eyes as I let the sensations of familiarity and comfort wash over me.
Lizzie and I had met in foster care. We’d been assigned to the same family when we were both fifteen. The family had two other kids with them, both toddlers, and were the kind to fawn over the little kids and collect the paychecks for us older ones. We’d spent two years at that house, the most stable one either of us had ever known, before we were shipped off to separate group homes to wait out our last year in the system. We’d lost touch during that time, but six years ago, Lizzie had tracked me down, and we’d been the best of friends ever since. She’d learned some sign language while we were in foster care together, but had taken classes after we’d become friends again and had become fluent. It was yet another reason why she was so awesome.
I’ve missed you, I said when we'd let go.
I’ve missed you too. I stepped aside so she could come in and closed the door behind her. So, what have you been up to?
She flopped down on my couch and grinned at me expectantly.
Not much. Lots of work. I sat down next to her and flushed. Lizzie was my best friend, but I felt weird talking to her about Rhys.
That’s not fun. Tell me something fun.
I met a guy.
The squeal Lizzie let out was louder than any alarm I had set up in my apartment, and I had no trouble hearing it.
Tell me everything!
Taking a deep breath, I told her about the seizure and about meeting Rhys and how we had a marathon texting session after I’d gone back to the bar to apologize for running. Lizzie didn’t say anything until after I stopped signing.
Wow. He sounds nice.
He is.
But you’re still scared.
Lizzie gave me a knowing look and brushed one of my longish curls off my cheek. I really needed to get a haircut.
Yes.
Not every guy is like Michael.
No, I conceded. But Michael was a nice guy at first too.
Rhys seems willing to go at your pace. That’s something Michael never did.
I don’t really want to talk about this.
I didn’t like keeping things from her, but Lizzie knew me well enough to know I would talk to her when I was ready.
What are you up to? she asked, respecting my wish to change the subject.
<
br /> Nothing right now.
Want to watch a movie?
Sure. I handed her the remote and sat back as Lizzie logged into my Netflix account. I really didn’t care what we watched, while Lizzie was a bit of a movie snob. We usually ended up watching indie or festival films, but tonight she went for a foreign film.
Y tu mama tambien? I signed out each of the Spanish words.
It means “and your mother too.” Lizzie leaned back and snuggled up against my chest, and I wrapped my arm around her shoulder, our typical position while we watched movies together.
I’d learned at fifteen that this was the only way to keep Lizzie quiet during movies. Since I had to read subtitles, it was hard for me to watch and have a conversation. Unless Lizzie spoke really loudly, I couldn’t hear her voice at this angle, and I couldn’t see her hands if she tried signing.
Lizzie was a very tactile person, and I was more on the touch-cautious side. Her penchant for casual touching had thrown me at first, but after only a few months of knowing her, I’d started to crave the connection and realized that I enjoyed being touched when I was comfortable with someone.
Another thing Lizzie had helped me realize was that I was bisexual.
I’d always liked guys. Ever since I’d learned what attraction was, I’d felt it for other boys. My first crush had been on my seventh-grade math teacher, Mr. Fielding, and by the time I was a freshman in high school, I’d known that boys did it for me.
Being disabled and a foster kid put enough of a target on my back that the thought of being gay terrified me. The school I’d gone to hadn’t been very progressive, and the few openly gay kids I’d known of had been tormented while the school looked the other way. Since I really had no friends to speak of, outside of Lizzie, my sexuality hadn’t really been an issue. No one looked twice at me, and I was able to slide under the radar. That was until I’d gotten an ill-timed erection in gym class while I’d been practicing wrestling moves with Sean Knox.
That gaff had earned me a black eye and a target on my back for all the homophobic students who were offended by my “gayness.”
School had been a living hell for me after that, and Lizzie had been the only person to stand by me. She’d been my protector and my champion, never hesitating to stand up for me or put someone in their place for some of the shit they pulled, but it wasn’t enough to shield me.
After almost a year of having Lizzie as my one and only friend, I’d started to see her differently. I’d always thought she was pretty, but I found I was attracted to her. I started fantasizing about her, and the first time we ever got drunk together, I’d confessed the truth.
Nothing had happened that night, but a few days later, when we were both sober and had a chance to think about things, Lizzie had kissed me. She’d been my first kiss, and it had been incredible. We’d dated in secret, considering we lived in the same foster house being open really wasn’t an option, and three months later, we’d had sex for the first time.
I’d enjoyed it, and we’d kept on doing it, but I’d never stopped thinking about boys and how I wanted to be with them too. Lizzie had sensed that I was struggling, and she’d helped me realize that bisexuality was real, despite all the hateful things I’d heard about it, and that it was okay to like both.
We’d gone back to just being friends a few months before we’d been split up, and it wasn’t until college that I’d kissed a guy for the first time. It would still be a few years before I slept with one, but that kiss had confirmed that while I did like both, I preferred men.
What did you think? Lizzie asked when the movie was over.
It was good. Lots of sex.
Get you all excited? She grinned teasingly.
Maybe. I’m still human, even if I’m celibate.
Lizzie bit her bottom lip, a telltale sign that she was holding something back because she wasn’t sure I’d want to hear it.
Hungry? We could order pizza? I suggested, changing the subject again.
I pulled out my phone and opened a delivery app when she nodded. I ordered our usual: a large half-vegetarian and half-meat lovers. When the order was placed, I turned to Lizzie.
So, what’s new and exciting in your life?
My new supervisor at work is killing me. Today he wore these crazy tight pants, and I could see the outline of his dick every time he came into view. Dude is packing!
I grinned and leaned against the couch as Lizzie launched into a very detailed description of her new supervisor and his package. I’d missed her these past few weeks. I really had to start putting more effort into my social life and less into my work.
ONE, TWO, THREE, FOUR, five.
I counted silently as I stared at my phone. This was the seventh time I’d counted to five, and the seventh time I’d ignored what I was supposed to do at the end of the countdown.
Okay. On three, this time. Just do it. One, two, three.
I pushed the send button on the message I’d typed out to Rhys, then turned my phone over and put it on the couch next to me.
It was stupid. We’d talked before, and he’d told me to text him, yet here I was, freaking out.
There was the slightest vibration in the cushion, telling me I had a notification. With my heart hammering in my chest, I flipped my phone over and glanced at the screen.
Rhys had texted me back.
Hey :) How are you doing today?
Good. Enjoying the time off. You?
Okay. This wasn’t so bad. I could have a simple conversation with a man without flipping out.
Can’t complain. Well, I can, but I won’t lol.
Lol. I can always complain too.
I leaned back on my couch and put my feet up on my coffee table as I read his next message.
Do anything interesting this weekend?
Not really. I saw my friend yesterday. It was nice to catch up.
Lucky. I worked and worked out.
Lol. Something tells me you work out a lot.
Every day. Twice on Sundays.
Rhys worked out every day? And he’d worked out twice today? I glanced down at my lean frame and bit my lip. The last time I’d been in a gym was in high school. I was lucky that my metabolism was high enough I never really had to worry about gaining weight as long as I was reasonably healthy with my food choices, but I had zero muscle mass. Lizzie always joked that I’d be the perfect twink if I wasn’t almost six feet tall.
Wow. That’s dedication.
It wasn’t the wittiest thing to say, but it was all I could think of. I didn’t think now was the time to tell Rhys I was about as comfortable in a gym as I was standing naked in the middle of Times Square.
I used to play football. Guess I never lost the habit.
Really? Like in college?
Yeah. I had a chance to get drafted, but I hurt my rotator cuff at the end of senior year.
Ouch. Are you okay now?
I had surgery, and it’s as good as new, but I missed my window.
Rhys was easy to talk to, and I liked how he was opening up more this time around. I’d noticed that in our last conversation he’d asked a lot of questions, most likely to help me keep talking. I know I didn’t know Rhys very well, but based on the few times we’d hung out, something told me he was intuitive that way, and he’d know what I needed, even when I didn’t.
How was work this weekend? I asked, smiling as my phone lit up with message after message of funny stories.
The conversation came easily after that, and I was more relaxed than I’d been in a long time.
Being disabled had given me a severe case of social anxiety. Between my struggles with my hearing loss, the fear of my seizures, and my shy nature, I spent most of my time freaking out about interacting with people.
Even sending an email or text could make my heart hammer in my chest, and cold-calling people was so terrifying it made it hard to breathe. It’s one of the reasons I’d gotten into computers and gaming. It was a solo hobby with little to no int
eraction with anyone. When I was gaming, I got to play against people but didn’t have to talk to them. I also enjoyed the challenge of programming. I liked using code to figure out problems and streamline efficiency.
It was also ideal in that almost all of it was done online. Back when I had to go into an office to work, I had my own little cubicle, and everyone around me would be plugged into their music or podcasts, and we’d work. The only socializing happened in the break areas, and people had been respectful of my boundaries. It wasn’t unusual to email or message someone ten feet away to ask them a question instead of going over to talk to them. They’d called it efficient communication; I called it hiding.
Do you work tomorrow? I typed as I looked at the clock on my phone, only then realizing we'd been talking for almost an hour and a half.
I am. I've got Friday and Saturday off. Not normal to have two days off in a row, but it's very appreciated.
I bit my lip, my fingers hovering over my screen as I tried to screw up the courage to write what I was thinking.
Rhys had been nothing but friendly and open, and he hadn't pushed meeting in person or seeing each other through video chat. He was keeping to his word that we would move at my pace, and as fear and anxiety echoed in my mind, I pushed past them and started typing. My gut was telling me Rhys was a good guy, and my gut hadn't steered me wrong yet.
Do you maybe want to hang out sometime?
Yes, definitely. The answer came so quickly I was impressed with Rhys's typing skills.
In what context? I'd been expecting his next question, but that didn't mean I had an answer ready.
I'm not sure. Friends first?
Sounds good. How about we meet for coffee?
Sure. Friday?
Why don't you pick the place? Somewhere close to you.
Um, The Green Bean? It's an organic bakery/coffee shop on Seraphine Ave. Do you know it?
No, but I can look it up. Sounds perfect. Does 7 work for you?
7 is good.
Great. I'll talk to you soon?
Talk soon.
I put down my phone and smiled, despite the fact that it felt like albatrosses were flying a holding pattern in my stomach. I had a sort of date. My first since things had ended with Michael.
