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I can’t help but say, “So, you like gay porn.”
“All porn turns me on. I’m twenty and horny. I’m happy to watch women with men, men with men, and you know what’s hotter?”
“Do I want to know?”
He shrugs. “Two men with a woman. All fucking each other.”
“So you like lesbian porn too?”
“It’s okay. I mean, the women are gorgeous, but I can’t see myself there in the middle. What about you?”
I stare at him dumbfounded. Are we seriously having this conversation? We shouldn’t. He’s my patient and a kid.
We can’t discuss sexual positions or preferences. “Listen, I don’t want to chat about sex with you.”
He sneers. “You’re the only person in this fucking house who answers my questions instead of interrogating me. I need to know.”
“And I’m happy to respond to most of them.” I show him a level 2 reading book. “When you can read Romeo and Juliet and understand it, we’ll talk about sex.”
He glares at me. “You suck, D.”
If only he knew how well I can suck dick, he’d be begging for actions, not words. Fuck where did that thought come from? I shake my head because I shouldn’t think about him or his body. He’s my patient.
“At least tell me if you’re into guys or women.”
I clear my throat. “Listen, I don’t talk much about my life, but I don’t have a particular preference.”
“Oh, so me liking both, it’s normal?”
“Why are we having this discussion?”
He shrugs. “You said it once, a person asks about five hundred questions a day. Today I’m pondering about sex and why my dick gets hard sometimes.”
I hold my head. “Please stop. I swear you’re making me confirm that I don’t want to have children.”
“Why?”
I snort. Is he for fucking real? Where’s the grumpy brat I came to help? I’d rather deal with him.
Travis glares at me. “It’s a simple question.”
Is it? He’s asking me to give him a sex-ed class. Why can’t he access at least those memories? Wouldn’t it be easier if he could remember how everything works? I’ll be happy to discuss sexual orientation and preference later, but not when he’s still usingCurious Georgeto learn how to read in full sentences. It’s just too fucking weird. Would he understand that I’m pansexual?
“You have to take life one day at a time,” I remind him.
“How do we know that I won’t die tomorrow from a brain aneurysm, another accident, or a bullet fired by my father?”
“Why would you think he’d kill you?”
He shrugs. “It’s a gut feeling. Maybe I’m crazy because I can’t seem to trust anyone. I wish I spoke Spanish so I could understand everything he’s saying.”
I nod as if I understand, but I’m already planning for how to make that happen. Zamudio might not want to kill him, but wouldn’t it be best if I give this kid all the tools to fight the anxiety and fears he harbors?
“If your father allows it, I want to start taking you to town. Maybe you can remember your Spanish.”
“Hablo Español?” he jokes. “What if I did before, but I can’t remember?”
“We don’t know, but if you didn’t do it before, I think you can do it now,” I assure him.
