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Barry’s eyes grew tender. “Just two months ago, our sweet Minty loved the idea of being in love,” he reminded me. “He’dwantedto feel gooey inside.”
“That Minty of two months ago was an idiot. He still thought he had a long life left to live,” I reminded him back. “This Minty ofnowknows he’s dying, and it’s going to be painful, and it’s gonna be ugly. There’s nothing romantic about it. I’ll never have gooey or nice.”
And Ihatedmyself for being scared and even more fordeservingall of it.
If Barry knew what I’d done…
If everyone knew what I’d done… They’d all agree. This diagnosis, this horrible future I was faced with was all my own fault. It was my karma. There was no way I could fake and shine my way free ofthisnightmarish reality. I had this sickness now, and it would make sure of that.
Sofuckpretending.Fuckbeing shiny. And, yeah, everyone else should hate me too.
Especially the guy who was supposed to hurt me.
“Having HIV doesn’t mean you can’t have sweet moments between now and…” Barry’s lips twisted down. He couldn’t even bring himself to say it. The sun glinted off his bald head. A bird chirruped from the tree. “You can still have the sweet moments,” he repeated gruffly.
“No. I can’t.”
“Why the fuck not?”
“If I feel sweet like that, I’ll get weak.”
I needed my anger. Didn’t he get it? Without all this anger and rage, I was powerless. I was just a soft, dying faggot with no hope, no future, no love, and a rotten soul. With it, I was at least powerful and strong. I was a miracle who could take a beating and rise up with rage to embrace the pain and convert it into my own glory. I was a god who could make straight men come against their will, a magician who could take their hate and alchemize it into orgasms, into pleasure.
“Listen to me, asshole. Youlikedmaking him the pancakes,” Barry said, pulling me into a gross, sweaty hug. He smelled like garlic and onions. I pretended to fight him off, but gave up quickly, letting him hold me. “You liked being his sub. This couldwork. Don’t fuck it up. Luke and you—this could be special.”
I shook my head. “I don’t think he’ll be enough.”
“Just give him a chance.”
“I am.”
“Good.”
When Barry released me, I stumbled over to pick up the rake. There were a few more leaves I could add to his pile. I focused on that instead of the trembling of my chin and the tears that wanted to surface.
In a year or so, give or take any number of months, I would be gone, and Barry was going to keep on living, raking leaves and teasing Robert. They were going to move into their shiny new house out in the countryside and rake the leaves from different trees. Leaves that I’d never see. That was how AIDS worked. It was absurd and aching andterrifying.
Barry came and took the rake from me, putting a stop to my attempt to add a shadow to the pile.
“I’m supposed to meet with Luke later this week for a real scene,” I whispered, almost hoping he didn’t hear me.
Barry’s brows lowered, and he sucked on his teeth thoughtfully. “Do you know what he’s got planned for you?”
I shook my head. “We talked about it, and he told me all the things he was considering doing to me, but honestly it was just a bunch of noise.”
“You should have let him know you weren’t able to concentrate.”
I shrugged. “Nah. He was eating the pancakes I made him, and he seemed…excited. I agreed to everything because he swore I’d like everything he did. Or hate it, I mean.” I grimaced. “Which is really the point.” I clutched his arm. “God, Barry, I really need to hate it.”
“Or do you really need to feel hated?”
“I don’t know anymore,” I admitted, still clinging to him. “This is a bad idea. I should go see Kyle.”
“No. Not that asshole.”
“He’s not an asshole. He’s my former lover,” I corrected, powering up my shiny, protective façade. It was still too hard, though, and not worth the expense of energy, so I dropped it again. I dug atoe into the ground. “He still doesn’t know that I won’t be coming around anymore. He’ll be expecting me at his dorm soon.”
“Fuck him.”
