Page 40 of This I Promise You
“No, I know. You’re right.” I relent and drop my head. “I’m trying. I’m working on it.”
Huxley rubs circles on my back. “I know, babe. Just don’t give up on him.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I tell her, eyes glued to my glass. “I don’t know what I want.”
“It’s simple: do you like him?”
“Yes, but it’s definitely not fucking simple.”
She sighs. “You like him, it’s simple.Tell him you like him. Things always have a way of working themselves out, but nothing can be done unless youcommunicate. Wait, I believe I just said that. Didn’t I just say that?”
“Yes, Huxley…” I groan.
“Then stop making me repeat myself. E’s a catch. Don’t let him get away.”
“Who even areyouseeing right now? Hmmm?” I change the subject. “You’re all up my ass about Easton, you’ve got to be practicing your own advice, yeah?”
“If youmustknow”—she rolls her eyes and takes a generous gulp from her glass—“I was talking to this guy, but I don’t think it’s going to work out. The dick was good, like really good. But the rest? Meh.However, I did meet this girl the other day that I wouldn’t mind pursuing. Her name is Devina and she was cute and bubbly. Her parents came here from South Korea back in the ’90s. They apparently have a cute little Korean restaurant that wehaveto check out. My mom is going to love them!”
“Do you even know if she’s gay? Or bi/pan?”
“Ugh, I don’t know. Girls are so much harder to tell if they’re queer because, like, we girls always compliment each other. It’s how we roll. So yeah, I'm not sure. I did get her number though. Just gotta bide my time to crack this mystery. I mean her jeans were cuffed and her phone case was clear so that’s a good sign, right?”
“I wouldn’t know, but I’m pretty sure anyone can cuff their jeans and buy clear phone cases—”
“Not likely.”
“Y’all bisexuals are on another level, speaking your own damn language and shit.”
Huxley nods vigorously. “You right, you right.”
“Huxley?” A man steps out of the back room. “Huxley the-motha-fuckin’-G.O.A.T. Davenport, is that you?”
“OMG! Jeremythe-fucking-V.V.I.P. Blitz!” Huxley squeals. “This is my roommate, Paul Acre. Paul, Jeremy. He owns this dumpster fire.”
“And I will kick your ass right the fuck out.” Jeremy pulls her in for a big hug.
“You wouldn’t dare.” Huxley hugs him back, then straight up punches him in the arm.
“Try me.” He smiles, then turns to me.
I hold out my hand. “Nice to meet you, sir.”
“Oof.” He smacks my hand away playfully. “Cut the fuckin’ shit. No. No‘sir’. Just Jeremy or Jer.”
“Sorry, Jeremy.” I refuse to call this manJer. No nicknames.
“You good, my dude. So about this job…”
Easton
Why Do I Do This?
The door eases shut with a light touch from my hand and the light from the hall disappears. I’m left in shades of gray cast from the singular window between our beds.
I gulp and let out a long slow breath.
Aidan’s asleep, so I step gently and undress for the second time tonight. I don’t bother folding my clothes before sliding into bed and pulling the covers tight.
