Page 30 of American Sweethearts

I expected him to walk into the center and leave me there seething, but instead, he took a deep breath, fixed his face, and lifted the paper bag in his hand.

“I got you a burrito bowl.” He didn’t snap his words or tell me I was acting like I had no home training out here in the street. In front of his father’s center where everyone on the block knew him.

None of that. Cool, calm, and extremely fucking collected, he handed me the food. “Since you texted saying you were running behind, I walked over to Chipotle and got you something to eat.”

I knew I had to look like I wanted the earth to open up and swallow me. He dropped his shoulder and stepped back, both hands in front of him. “Don’t get mad, but I forgot to get you the Tabasco sauce you like.” His mouth twitched and my face was so hot I wondered if it was making steam when the cold December air hit it.

I deflated as I looked inside the bag and saw that he’d gotten me a side of the corn salsa I loved.

“You’re a fucking cheeseball. Thank you.” I sounded tired and a little flustered—which dammit, I was.

He just shook his head and hiked a thumb over his shoulder. His head angled toward the center. “You can eat in my mom’s office. She went home already.” He looked at his watch, then gestured to my duffel bag. “Take a few and eat, so you don’t get all hangry. I’ll start setting up.”

There was zero judgement in his eyes, and mine were almost filling up with tears, because I could not remember the last time someone did something like this for me. That someone saw I was close to my limit and just took some of the load from me.

I clutched the still-warm bag to my chest and nodded as I tried to get my shit together. I didn’t need to burst into tears over a burrito bowl.

“You really came in clutch, J. I was going to be ravenous by the time we finished.” I lifted my phone, which was still in my hand. “I just need a second. See you in there.”

He didn’t comment on my obvious disheveled state and smiled. “Okay, just let Jenny at the front desk know who you are and she’ll show you were the office is.” With that, he walked in.

I really needed to think about the state of affairs of my job and life. This was not like me; I didn’t fall apart. I didn’t cry on sidewalks.

When I looked down at my phone, Bri’s message managed to at least get me out of my previous mutinous state.

Sanchez just texted. She’s at her aunt’s. We’re going to have to figure out what happened, but that’s more on us and CPS, not you, not right now anyway. Go teach those sixty-year-olds how to get freaky and we’ll hold down the fort over here. And EAT something.

I had no words left, so I just sent him a long row of heart emojis. After one last deep breath, I walked into the center, ready to do my workshop and determined to not let things I could not control take away from this night.

By the time I’d polished off the entire bowl and had something to drink, Juan Pablo had all my stuff set up in the room. There were chairs in a semi-circle facing the front, and a projector was ready to go with the first slide of my presentation already up. He had the packing cube I used to carry my demo toys on top of the desk sitting next to the handouts, and was looking very pleased with himself.

I had to admit that the food had gone a long way to bolster my mood and with just under ten minutes to go before our class was supposed to start, excitement started bubbling up inside me.

“Thank you,” I said, as I admired the room. It was well lit and roomy. There was also a door, so we’d have a private space to discuss whatever came up.

He pushed his lips out and I knew he was trying not to smile. “I love the title of the presentation.”

I turned my attention to the screen as if I didn’t know what was there.

Keep Coming: Great Sex at Any Age

I chuckled and started unzipping my goodies bag to make sure I had everything I needed. “My friend Mirna came up with it. She and I usually co-facilitate this, but she’s visiting her grandkids on the West Coast.”

He made a noise that sounded like he approved, and was considering something. “You’ve got like a whole network of people holding it down for you when it comes to this stuff.”

I nodded, considering his comment, when I heard voices coming from outside. My heart started racing when I realized those were probably my workshop attendees. I turned and tried very hard to keep a straight face as I lined up tubes of lube,dildos, cock rings, and vibrators on a towel. To his credit, J didn’t even crack a smile.

I talked as I worked. “I’ve met a lot of people through the online store and trade shows. I’ve also been doing those toy parties.” I leaned against the desk and kept an eye on the door in case anyone came in. “That’s where I got the idea for the workshops. I kept going into these different spaces and got really mixed groups. I mean you know how it was in our communities; the sex talks were not happening. And when we did get them, it was like three words.”

He nodded knowingly and offered them up. “Don’t do it.”

I laughed without any humor. “Right. So just the lack of education was enough to get me thinking. But I also got a lot of non-binary folx and older people, and they all had questions, had things to say. Then Bri and I started talking about his experience and how things were for him during transition and after. How he dealt with intimacy, the changes, good, bad, or unexpected, etc.” I shrugged, not wanting to go on for too long. “I noticed there was a need there, in our communities, you know? There is so much to unpack for enby folx, and for black and brown bodies in general about pleasure, and our right to it.”

I waved a hand at two women standing by the door. They were both Afro-Latinas, and could’ve totally been someone’s abuelitas, but they had a pep in their step as they walked in.

“Come in, please.” I looked up at J again, who was already moving away from the desk. “You light up when you talk about this stuff, Pris. It’s a good look on you.” He fidgeted a little bit. I wondered if he was going to say something extra or try to be funny like he did sometimes when he was out of sorts, but he didn’t. “Can I stay? Listen in? I promise I won’t interfere.”

This boy. He was really trying to ruin me, again.