I wonder for a second whether I've told him too much.
“So is Tremblay the only reason you're so busy? I was kinda wondering if you were still seeing the married guy.”
“He'snotmarried.”
His reaction is immediate.
“Fuck, Jamie. I was joking! Or, like, 80% joking. You guys are still fucking around?”
“It's, uh, more than that. I think? God, I don't even know.”
It's my turn to sigh, throwing an arm across my forehead.
There's quiet on the other end of the line.
“Look, Jamie. I know I give you shit for stuff all the time, but...are you sure about this? You still won't tell me almost anything about this guy, and now you finally admit that it might be serious? I'm worried about you.”
I rub at the bridge of my nose, willing away the headache that is forming.
“What do you want to know?”
“Like...anything?Ishe married?”
“No. He's not married, but heiscloseted.”
“Why?”
“He's in a field that can be fairly homophobic, and his family is completely unsupportive. And because it'shischoice when and if he feels safe coming out.”
“What's his name?”
“I feel like that might be the same as outing him.”
“Can you make one up? Otherwise I gotta keep calling him the married guy.”
He's got a point.
“...let's call him Alex.”
“Great. How old is he?”
“Early thirties.”
“Hm. A little old, but I know your taste is less exacting than mine.”
I splutter at that.
“Excuse you! You won’t be finding a job as a house boy anytime soon withthatattitude.”
He chuckles, breaking the tension in our conversation.
“So how'd you meet?”
“You remember my birthday party? At the club?
“The one where your captain was a total dick to you?”
Shit, I'd forgotten I'd told him that story. I pivot a bit.
