by Marie Sexton
’Course, Matt and Jared aren’t much better. They’re both lookin’ at the ceiling like they might find the winnin’ lotto numbers painted up there.
Zach’s just smilin’ at me, and I can tell I made him happy doin’ it. And that’s more important to me than any of the rest.
We order dinner, and then there’s an awkward moment, when everybody just waits for somebody else to say somethin’. ’Course it ends up bein’ Jonathan who speaks first. And ’course it’s Zach he says it to.
“Do you still live in Denver?”
“We just moved to Coda, at the end of last summer.”
“Coda? Where is that?”
“In the mountains, not far from Rocky Mountain National Park.”
“What made you move there?”
Zach smiles at me and says, “It was a business decision.”
“Really? What do you do now? I assume you don’t still work at that video store.”
There’s a pause, and Zach gives Jonathan a look that I know means “fuck you” and says, “I own ‘that video store’.”
Jonathan looks surprised at that for a second, but he recovers fast.
Unfortunately, he turns to me next.
“What about you, Angelo? What do you do?”
Shit. If I could climb under the fuckin’ table I would, but I can’t. I’m debatin’ right now whether gettin’ shit-faced over dinner is a really bad idea, or a really good one. I’d say the latter, if the drinks weren’t twelve bucks a piece. Jonathan’s still lookin’ at me, and I make myself say,
“Work for Zach.”
“Oh.” It’s not even a word, but the way he says it makes me feel about two feet tall. Like I just said I’m a felon who got out early on account of my good fuckin’ behavior. He glances meaningfully at Zach, and I know he’s thinkin’ he just scored a point. I’m thinkin’ maybe he’s not wrong.
“Where are you from, Jonathan?” Jared asks, and I’d kiss him for it if I didn’t think Matt would pound my face in two seconds later.
“Technically, I live in Phoenix. But I split my time between there and Vegas and L.A. We have enough clients in Vegas; I ended up buying a condo here. It works out well.” He looks around at us all and asks, “Are you planning to see any shows while you’re here.”
“We hadn’t decided,” Jared tells him. “Is there one you recommend?”
“Most of the Cirque shows are worth seeing.” Then he looks at Zach
with a smile and says, “I guess I won’t bother recommending Phantom.”
“Why not?” I ask, and then wish I kept my mouth shut, ’cause it means Jonathan looks at me.
He gives me sort of a fake apologetic smile and says, “Zach hated that show when we saw it. He couldn’t figure out why everybody was laughing during Notes.”
“I didn’t hate it,” Zach says.
“You didn’t get it, right?” I ask him, and he smiles at me.
“Sure I did,” he says, but I tell he’s just playin’ along with me.
“There’s a guy in a mask, and he lives in an opera house.”
“That’s it?” I ask him.
“Isn’t it?”
“No, man. It’s ’bout makin’ a deal with the devil, and havin’ to choose between love and your dream. The Phantom loved Christine, and he thought she loved her career enough that if he made her a star, she would love him back. But in the end, she can’t. Seems like mostly just ’cause the Phantom was ugly, which makes Christine a shallow bitch, if you ask me. But in the end, the Phantom loves her so much he lets her go.” I suddenly realize everybody’s listenin’ to me, not just Zach, and I stop short. I know my cheeks are turnin’ red. Zach and Matt are both smilin’ at me, and Jared seems halfway interested. But Jonathan is lookin’ at me, too, and somehow, just the expression on his face is enough to make me wish yet again I kept my mouth shut. I bet it’s the same look teachers give their students when they know they’ve only read the Cliff’s
Notes instead of the whole book.
“I take it you’ve seen it,” he says, like he’s doing me a favor.
And I have to say, “Only the movie.”
“I’m sure it’s just as good,” Jonathan says in a way that makes it perfectly clear he thinks no such thing.
“You still go to the theater a lot?” Zach asks him.
“I have season tickets.” He smiles again at Zach. “I think of you every time I see West Side Story.” I can tell he thinks that will mean somethin’, but Zach just looks confused.
“Is that the one that starts out in a Vietnamese whore house?”
“No,” Jonathan says, with obvious disappointment. “That was Miss Saigon.” Which of course makes me laugh. Jonathan obviously doesn’t see what’s funny. He looks at me like I’ve lost my mind, and I cut my laugh short and drink more beer.
“Do you still have Geisha?” Jonathan asks.
“Technically,” Zach says, as he pours himself more wine. “She’s Angelo’s cat now.”
I’m surprised how shocked Jonathan looks at that. “You didn’t want her anymore?” he asks accusingly.
“She didn’t want me.”
“I don’t understand.”
“She hates him,” I say.
And before Jonathan can say anything to that, Zach says, “Exactly.
She loves Angelo. She hates me. So now she’s his.”
“She’s a cat, Zach. I’m sure she doesn’t hate—”
“You think you know more ’bout her than Zach does, when you haven’t been ’round for ten fuckin’ years?” I ask.
Matt kicks me, under the table, and Jared says, “Jonathan, are you a football fan?” and that’s the end of that conversation.
The food comes, and they’re all still talkin’. I just nurse my overpriced beer, and eat my overpriced dinner, and keep my fuckin’ mouth shut. I wish everybody would stop talkin’ and eat, ’cause the sooner we finish, the sooner we can get the fuck out of there, away from Zach’s ex-boyfriend. I manage to avoid his attention through most of the meal, but then he says to Jared, “You’ve lived in Colorado your whole life?”
“Yep.”
“Did you go to CU? We must have all been there at the same time.”
Jared gives him this look, like he’s tryin’ to decide if he can give him a hard time or not. “Only rich kids from out of state go to CU,” he says, with a smile. “Coloradoans go to CSU.”
Zach and Jonathan both laugh at that, and Jonathan says, “The Aggies are always jealous of the Big Twelve kids.”
Jared actually looks annoyed at that, and I think he’s ’bout to say somethin’ rude, but Matt puts his hand on Jared’s wrist, and says to Jonathan, “Don’t get him started! No need to bring the Rocky Mountain Showdown to dinner.”
Jonathan sort of nods his head in Jared’s direction in apparent acquiescence and says, “Fair enough. So, what about you, Matt? Where did you go to school?”
“Oklahoma State.” But the way he says it, anybody can tell he doesn’t want to talk ’bout his past. So then of course Jonathan looks at me.
“How about you, Angelo?”
No way am I gonna admit to him I’m a high school dropout. I want more than anything to just punch him in the face, but instead I smile and say, “Harvard Law. My job at the video store’s just a cover so the rest of you schmucks don’t feel bad.”
I think they laugh, but I’m not sure ’cause I’m busy slammin’ the rest of my beer, and then the last of Zach’s dirt-flavored wine too. Wish like hell I believed in God so I could pray for this disaster of a night to be over.
Zach squeezes my knee, under the table, and smiles at me. I do my best to smile back, but it’s a pretty fuckin’ weak effort. His hand moves up my thigh. He’s tryin’ to cheer me up. Wish it was workin’.
Dinner finally ends, and I’ve never been so relieved in my life to find out that nobody wants dessert. But then Jonathan looks at everybody and says, “The night’s still young. What would you all like to do?” Matt, Jared
and Zach all just give each other blank stares, and Jonathan says,
“It’s too late to get tickets to a show. How about a club?”
“What kind of club?” Jared asks, looking skeptical.
Jonathan smiles at him. “Our kind of club. There’s one just a block off-Strip.”
Matt just shrugs. Zach looks at me. “Do you want to go out?”
And suddenly, I do. I been sittin’ there listenin’ to Jonathan, gettin’ more and more annoyed by the minute. And a night out sounds like exactly what I need. It’s been a long time since I really did the club scene.
I mean, yeah, those last few years before Zach, I’d go there when I wanted to score. But even then, I didn’t really work the club. Not like I used to.
I think ’bout how it feels to get out there in that mass of people. To have a couple of drinks. To flirt, and fool around a bit with an anonymous stranger. It’s a good way to blow off a little steam. Not sure how Zach will feel ’bout it, but I’ll cross that bridge when I get to it.
“Sounds great,” I say.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea,” Jared suddenly says, and I know the look I give him should be burnin’ holes through him.
“Why not?” Matt asks him, surprised.
Jared gives him a pointed look. “It’s not a good idea,” he says again, slower, obviously expecting Matt to find some deeper meaning in it the second time, but I can tell Matt doesn’t.
“I don’t mind,” he says.
“It’s settled then,” Jonathan says, beaming at Zach.
We take a cab to the club. It’s a few blocks from where we were eating, but not far from the Strip. Once we get inside, they find a table. It’s one of those high tables, where you have to sit on stools. They’re lookin’ ’round for a waiter. I know better. I go up to the bar and order two shots of tequila. Slam them both, and then go back to Zach. I stand on the other side of him, away from Jonathan, so that when he turns to talk to me,
Jonathan can’t listen in.
“I wanna dance,” I tell him.
“Okay,” he says, smilin’. “Go ahead.” He starts to turn back to the conversation the others are havin’, but I stop him.
“Zach.” I wait ’til he looks at me. “Look at the dance floor, Zach.”
He looks amused, but he does what I say. “You see what’s goin’ on out there.”
He grins at me. “I’ve been to clubs before, Ang.”
I’m still not sure he gets it. “I’m tellin’ you I wanna go out there and dance, Zach. I just wanna make sure you know exactly what I’m sayin’.”
“You’re telling me you want to fool around with somebody other than me.” That surprises me for just a second. Then I realize how stupid I am. I shoulda known he didn’t need me to spell it out for him. He ducks his head a little, so he can look right in my eyes. “Are you planning on leaving with somebody?”
“Only you.”
“Okay.” He puts his hand on the back of my neck and pulls me close. He kisses me, then whispers in my ear, “No sex.”
“You know I won’t.”
“I love you.”
“I know.”
“Have fun.”
I pull off the tie and hand it to Zach, who shoves it in his pocket.
“Where are you going?” Matt asks me.
“Gonna dance.”
“Are you serious?”
“Yeah, I’m serious,” I say, grinnin’ at him. “Wanna come?”
“No way in hell,” he says, which makes me laugh, ’cause it’s exactly what I expected.
I stop at the bar and do one more shot, and then I hit the floor.
Matt…
I THOUGHT at first that Angelo was joking when he said he wanted to dance. It just wasn’t something I ever would have expected. Angelo was tough and eccentric and smart and sometimes wickedly funny. And although he had told me a little bit about his past, I had never really pictured him doing the club scene. But it immediately became apparent that not only could he do the club scene, he was good at it. I realized then what Jared had been worried about.
He was like a magnet. Or a flame, and the rest of them were moths.
They zoned in on him like a pack of wolves stalking their prey. Except this prey would eat them alive.
For a minute, he was dancing alone, even though half the men around him were eyeing him. I’d seen the same thing happen at straight clubs, when a drop-dead-gorgeous woman walked onto the floor. There was a minute while they all just watched and waited—they were wondering, was he really alone? Who would make the first move?
Finally, one of them separated from the pack. He was young, with spiky platinum-blonde hair, taller than Angelo and very cocky. He danced up to Angelo, and Angelo let him come. Blondie wrapped his arms around Angelo and pulled him against him. Angelo went willingly, laughing.
They danced for a minute, grinding together, but then Blondie whispered something in Angelo’s ear. Ang threw his head back and laughed, pushing Blondie away. Blondie looked surprised, and annoyed, but retreated.
The next one was older, better dressed, and a tiny bit fem. He wasn’t as cocky. He moved slower, waiting for Ang to rebuff him too. But Ang didn’t. He unbuttoned Angelo’s shirt, while Ang looked up at him with flirtatious eyes. Fem left the last few buttons done up, then pulled the shirt backward off of Angelo’s shoulders, pulling it halfway down and then gripping it tight, so that Ang’s arms were pinned to his sides. Angelo laughed, his head back. Fem put his tongue in the hollow of Ang’s throat, one hand on Angelo’s ass, and they started to grind together. His lips moved slowly up Angelo’s neck, and Angelo let him. They danced for a while. Right up until Fem tried to kiss him. Then Angelo spun away with a smile.
There were more guys after that. Angelo moved through them like a performer working the crowd, smiling and teasing, his eyes flashing and mischievous.
Jonathan had led Zach away from our table while I was watching Angelo, and I knew it was so he could talk to him without Jared and me overhearing. They were leaning on a railing not far from us, watching the dance floor. Jonathan was talking intently to Zach, but I could tell Zach was only half-listening. I wondered how he felt about what Ang was doing. I expected him to be angry, or hurt, or maybe not paying attention at all. What I saw surprised me. He wasn’t concerned at all. He was watching Ang, a tiny smile on his face, looking for all the world like he found the whole spectacle mildly amusing.
I looked over at Jared. He was watching Angelo too. His cheeks were red, and I could tell he was torn between being turned on and being incredibly pissed off.
“I didn’t realize,” I said dumbly, and he looked over at me in annoyance.
“Of course you didn’t,” he snapped. “You may go to bed with a man every night, but for all intents and purposes, you’re still straight. You don’t see anything. You don’t see Angelo for what he is.”
“And what is he?” I asked, trying to not be offended.
“Sex, Matt,” he said in obvious exasperation. “Everything about him just screams to be fucked. Look at him,” he said, gesturing toward the dance floor angrily. “He looks like sex. He smells like sex. He even walks like sex.”
“How does sex walk?” I asked with a smile, but he didn’t smile back. Then I had another thought. “Are you saying you want to fuck Angelo?” I asked, and regretted it immediately. I wasn’t sure I wanted to hear the answer.
Luckily, he ignored me. “Nothing good can happen here,” he said quietly, turning his back on the dance floor.
Angelo was with a new guy now. He was only a little taller than Ang. His hair was almost the same, too, black and spiky. His shirt was off, and his upper body had more tattoos and piercings than I could count. He was tight up against Angelo’s back, grinding his groin into Ang’s ass. Ang had his head back on Tattoo’s shoulder, and his eyes were closed. And the look on his face… it was a look I could have gone my whole life without seeing on my best friend’s face, a look I had assumed until now wa
s reserved only for Zach. One of Tattoo’s hands was deep in the pocket of Angelo’s baggy jeans, and it didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on.
“How can Zach just stand there like that?” I asked quietly.
“I have no idea.”
Zach and Jonathan were headed back to our table now, and Zach did look pissed. But to my surprise, it wasn’t at Angelo.
“This is what I mean, Zach,” Jonathan was saying as they reached our table. He gestured to the dance floor. Another guy had joined Ang and Tattoo, making a ménage of grinding hips and wandering hands. “You can’t expect a relationship with a guy like that to last.”
“You don’t know Angelo,” Zach said.
“I don’t have to know him. All I have to do is watch him.”
“He’s just having fun,” Zach said.
“And that’s okay with you?”
“Not that it’s any of your business,” Zach snapped, and I was impressed to see that he actually could stand up for himself when he needed to, “but yes, it’s okay with me.” I glanced at Jared and saw my own disbelief mirrored back at me.
Jonathan took a deep measured breath, obviously deciding to change his tactics. He stepped closer to Zach and put one arm around his waist.
“Zach, all I’m trying to say is, I’ve missed you.”
“Since when? Tonight?”
“Always. We were good together.”
“So good that you left.”
“I’m sorry about that.”
“Don’t be. It was for the best.”
