“Stop smacking me, woman! And why are you mad at me? I didn’t leave him hanging.” I gesture at Seth.
“You’re the only straight guy here, so—”
“So…? Obviously, the guy’s not straight, or he wouldn’t have shoved his dick down Seth’s throat, am I right?” I snatch some napkins from the table and start wiping the sauce off my shoes.
“He’s not gay either, apparently,” she air-quotes.
“So, maybe he’s bi, and that’s your fucking corner. You take responsibility then.”
“But I’m not a man,” she says, staring me down.
I drag a hand down my face. “You’re not making any sense. And not that it’s any of your business,” I add. “But I always finish the job.”
“Ha!” she yells. “You sure?” She cocks an eyebrow at me, crossing her arms.
“Pretty sure, yeah.” I frown.
“Pretty sure?” she parrots. “Oh, my sweet summer child.” She sighs and pats my knee. “Ever seenWhen Harry Met Sally?”
I look from her to Seth and back again.
“We fake it, Kaden,” she says. “All. The. Time.”
I glare at her.
“You too?” Seth chuckles.
“Hell no!” She tosses a used napkin on the table. “If a man can’t get me off, he’ll know.”
7
Seth
OnThursdaymorning,Ipull up to my old place. Andrew’s standing on the front step, arms crossed, tapping a foot, like he’s been waiting for hours.
“Hey Andy! Looking fresh—”
“It’s Andrew, Seth,” he says, glaring at me. Then he eyes me, top to bottom, and scrunches his nose. “I thought you re-opened.”
“Yeah, we did. A few months—”
“Are you not getting paid?”
I snort. “What?”
“Did you find those pants on Craigslist?”
I look down at my vintage Ralph Lauren carpenter jeans, before glancing at his beige chinos from Walmart or something.
I plaster on a smile. “Yeah, you like ‘em?”
I follow him inside and as soon as we walk over the threshold, the sour smell from the carpet invades my nose. The walls are still plain white, still impersonal. The fake plants on the windows sills and the floor lamp in the living room looks like they haven’t been dusted since I moved out. We stop inthe kitchen—also all white, except for the small, yellowed pine dining table—and I sigh inwardly.
“One box?” I say. “That’s it?”
“Yeah?”
I nod, glancing at him. “Don’t you work downtown?”
