Irish’s phone buzzed but she didn’t look at the screen since she was too busy with Jovanis.
“Yeah, but Van, we’re grown now. No one takes care of you. You're not under the care of your uncles anymore. You’ve proven yourself in the sense of having heart. Why won’t you just live the way you want?”
He cut his reddened eyes at her. “You know that shit ain't possible. Niggas would look at me like a bitch if they knew I was …” He swallowed hard. “I wish I wasn’t. I wish I could look at women the way I look at men. I feel broken. Like I’m wired differently. I hate this shit.”
“But it’s who you are,” Irish reminded him. “You’ve tried to pray this away. You’ve tried to be with women, hoping the attraction would spark. You’ve tried everything, Jovanis, which tells me that you need to accept who you are.”
Jovanis made a tent with his hand and rested his forehead against them. On many occasions, he had expressed hisdisdain for his sexuality. He hated the fact that he was gay. Irish attempted to get him to accept himself, but he always refused.
“You know how I was brought up. They damn near beat the gay out of me. That’s why I went on a run with females back in the day. I tried to fuck the gay out of me… None of that shit worked. If anything, it only intensified my feelings for men. I started out trying to prove myself to my uncles and sadly, I’m still trying to prove myself to me… my dude got mad at me ‘cause he’s ready to step out, ya know, live life proudly but me… Something is stopping me.”
Irish’s phone buzzed again. She took it out of her pocket and noticed Noble calling. Silencing the call, she continued listening to Jovanis.
“That something is you.”
When he peered at her, she spotted his anguish. It was in the form of light tears but knowing Jovanis, he would never allow them to fall.
“Why can’t I just get over this shit?” he said more so to himself. “All I want is to feel normal.”
“Yeah, but what’s normal?”
“Being sexually attracted to women.”
Her gaze faltered. “But you’ve tried to ignite that attraction. It hasn’t worked.”
Jovanis put his head down on the table. Irish reached over and rubbed the back of his neck. She wished she had a remedy for his problem. She wished God could come down and have a direct conversation with Jovanis. After all, He was the creator so she was certain He would have a plan for him.
Jovanis lifted his head. “My bad for dumping on you, Irish. I know you get tired of this shit.”
“Hey, no I don't. I’m your person so you can dump all that you need to on me.”
He smiled at her half-heartedly. “I don't deserve you.”
“You actually don't,” she joked, tossing her hair over her shoulder.
“I hope that nigga knows how special you are.”
“I think he does.”
Jovanis straightened his posture. “…What if it’s always been you?”
Her head angled. “What do you mean?”
“What if I was meant to be with you? What if fate put us in each other’s path for a reason? On some real shit, I feel like you were created just for me. What if we keep missing the signs that we were meant to walk together?”
“I mean, we’re together, as friends though.”
Jovanis’ stare lingered on Irish, making her a bit uncomfortable. They had explored this topic before, but it was early on in their friendship. She thought they had moved past it since it was determined that Jovanis liked men.
“Yeah, I know. I just be thinking about shit.” He looked forward. “I just need a break from life.”
“Hey, I don't like when you talk like this.” She interlocked her fingers with his. “Let’s have some drinks then go bar hop like we used to when we first turned twenty-one.”
He smirked. “You mean when I got you that fake ID since your ass is a year younger than me?”
She rolled her eyes. “Yeah, don't remind me that you're the oldest.”
“Which means I reign supreme.”
