Page 38 of A Straight Line

Finally, when we had a little breathing room from the throngs of dancers, I eased up and let Denny’s grip on my elbow stop me. He rounded my body, his hand slowly slipping away from my elbow, and he looked at me with a hopeful smile. The expression on his face—euphoric, slightly drunk, hopeful—almost like a puppy asking its new owner to love it—made it hard not to feel bad. However, I just wasn’t ready to commit to anything. Not even something as simple as a dance. Exchanging blowjobs in a dark garage was one thing. In and out, mission accomplished. But committing to starting something new with some guy who was a virtual stranger was just too much. My heart wasn’t ready for that yet.

“The night’s waning,” Denny said, “I’m still saving that dance.”

“It’s not really my song,” I shouted over the music and the excited sounds coming from the people dancing nearby. “Maybe a different song? Later?”

“How much later?” He looked absolutely defeated.

“I don’t know, I—”

“You just don’t want to dance with me.” His bottom lip jutted out.

I would have gotten pissed at the attempt to emotionally manipulate me if he hadn’t looked so forlorn. Luckily, a familiar glittery chest flashed in the corner of my eye before I could say something that might be interpreted as rude by Denny. Officer Michael was dancing past us, his arms going in a million different directions, causing leftover liquor droplets to fly erratically from the cup held aloft in one of his hands. Quickly, I reached out and hooked my hand through the crook of his arm, pulling him towards us. It was no easy task, considering the man was nothing but solid muscle, but once he looked down at my hand and saw I was trying to get his attention, he helped me out by stepping over to us.

“Officer Michael?” I shouted over the music. “Dance with Denny!”

I gestured at Denny. Michael glanced over at him and smiled.

“He loves this song!” I shouted.

Officer Michael nodded his head, as though to say, “why not?” and held his hand out to Denny. For a second, I thought Denny might throw his cup at me or curse at me. However, after a moment, he handed his empty cup to me for safe-keeping and took Officer Michael’s hand. The policeman let out a “whoop” and pulled Denny into the crowd, leaving me alone with two empty cups. I watched for a minute, Denny’s and Michael’s backs disappearing amongst the undulating sea of gyrating bodies, then turned away.

Why am I like this?

Once I found the nearest place to dispose of the empty cups, I zigzagged my way around the dance floor, dodging flailing bodies on the outer perimeter of the dance floor area and slapping away boas that swung at my face. When I got over to the DJ booth, Harry and Vic were still standing there, their own red cups in hand, grinning and chatting animatedly with each other. It was obvious by the expressions on their faces that the party was a success, and their days had been perfect. I couldn’t let myself be dour around them. Ruining one of the most perfect evenings in their lives would have been unforgivable, even for a miserable bastard such as myself.

“Hey,” I said, somehow loudly enough to be heard over the music.

Harry and Vic turned to me, looking surprised to see me standing before them. I wasn’t sure if they were shocked that I hadn’t locked myself in my room for the night, or they had just forgotten that I was even at the party, but my appearance had taken them by surprise.

“Russ!” Vic exclaimed. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

I shrugged.

“Where’s Denny?” Harry asked quickly.

“Why?” I grumbled.

“Well,” Harry said, “I’ve seen you two together quite a bit tonight. I thought maybe the two of you would be dancing is all.”

“Harry,” Vic mumbled just loudly enough to be heard over the music.

“Well,” Harry said, “when they disappeared into the garage together, I thought—”

My cheeks burned brightly—not at the fact that we’d been seen going into the garage together—but that what Uncle Harry thought we had been doing was what we had been doing. It was one thing to have my uncles see me milling about the party with Denny, even enjoying myself, I guess, around Denny. But to have them see us go into the garage together was a different matter. Casual sex isn’t as taboo in the LGBTQ-plus community like it is in other communities, so it wasn’t that I felt they would shame me. I just preferred that they never thought about me having sex. Ever. I never wanted to think about the sex they had.

“He’s dancing with Officer Michael,” I said, hoping that would end the discussion.

I gestured vaguely at the dance area.

Harry and Vic both glanced at everyone dancing, their faces dropping.

“Oh, Russy,” Harry said, moving closer, “I’m so sorry. I thought—”

“I told him to,” I cut him off.

“What?” Vic frowned.

“I didn’t want to dance.”