Chapter 4
CHAPTER
FOUR
“ S o you have a date?”
Callum sits opposite from me in the coffee place, each of us with a laptop on the table we’re sharing, but he pops his head over the top of his screen to look at me with a smile and a raised eyebrow that almost slips under the flop of black curls from atop his head.
Cal is my best friend. We met in college and bonded over a mutual love of comic books, trippy or Lovecraftian biological horror, and hot boys in sports kit. I’d bumped into him sitting in the bleachers as our college football team (Go Razorbacks!) were training, another laptop perched on his lap and ostensibly working on story ideas even back then. I’d gone over to shyly check out the boys and wistfully daydream about when I might actually get a boyfriend someday, if I’d only build up the courage to, I dunno, actually ask a guy out.
He saw me holding that week’s stack of comic releases and he hit up a conversation, one which in one shape or another has continued to this very day.
“I guess? I mean, we’re going to meet up for coffee, but like, how can he be wanting a date with me? You’ve seen him, the guys a Latin Adonis!” I let out in a hushed cry of confusion, arms flailing for emphasis that is sorely needed to describe just how little this makes sense to me.
“Oh, come on, Jesse. You’re a good looking guy, we’ve been over this. You just need to get some, I dunno, actual confidence in yourself.”
Me and Cal haven’t hooked up, before you ask. Well, not really. Not entirely. There was one misspent night in college where we started making out in bed after a party, but then we started giggling over how silly it felt and just went to sleep. It was a really nice, comforting sleep, but that’s because we’re that close as friends, I guess. And I’m not exactly above sleeping with friends or anything, but I dunno. Feels wrong with Cal. Like, it would be a risk, and he’s too important for that.
“Whatever. We’ll meet up, have some coffee or something, maybe go for a walk, and see what happens I guess,” I wave him off.
Cal fixes me in those big blue eyes of his, framed by his luscious black lashes. I’m not one to get hung up on looks, I swear, but that is something I’ve always been jealous of Cal for. He has these gorgeous, natural, thick black lashes that look soft and full, and they frame and contrast with his brilliant blue eyes fabulously. I always used to think he wore falsies, or mascara, or maybe just a trick of eyeliner, but nope, all natural and all him.
It’s about all I’m jealous of: I was blessed with far more fashion sense than my dreadfully drole compadre. His color choices for clothes usually centre around black, grey, brown or darker black, and usually wearing clothes that appear to be two or three sizes too big for him. He’s a skinny guy, and always has been as long as I’ve known him, and I asked once why his clothes are so big, and he just said it’s how he prefers it.
His mom once showed me an old school photo of him from when he was in Middle School, and he was chunkier back then, and more withdrawn looking. I always suspected he must have been hung up on his looks and lost a bunch of weight, which was ridiculous because he was cute as a button even then. But hey, we all know what school is like, and I can’t say I’m above my own hangups with my body. Being so lanky and tall always made me feel awkward and weird.
“I notice there was no eating of food mentioned in those plans. Still hopeful for a nice end to the night then,” Cal grins, wickedly.
I scoff, but then my mind wanders, thinking about what if it did go that way. And if it all goes wrong, and what if…
My mind wanders to the text message on my phone. The one I can’t bear to read again but can’t bring myself to delete.
“Hey, are you okay? What’s eating you?” Cal snaps me out of it, looking at me with concern. “Are you really that nervous about it?”
“Yeah, yeah, I guess I am,” I lie.
“You must really like him, then. Not seen you get this nervous about a guy since Devlin Gregorio in freshman year,” he returns to his laptop, and I hear him hammer away at the keys. “Well, you never know, maybe you’ll hit it off and you can bring him along to Ricky’s wedding. You do need a plus one after all.”
“Wait, do you have a plus one?” I study his face, looking for any sign of a secret.
“Ha, no. Not planning on taking one. Weddings are so much drama, man. Don’t need to be dragging someone into that .”
“You’re dragging me,” I point out.
“You were invited , so I’m not dragging you anywhere,” he scoffs. “But it’s nice to have you there for backup. You know how Ricky can get when he gets emotional.”
I do. Our friend Ricky had a really tough time in the last year of college. He’d contracted HIV, and like, as much of a world-shattering diagnosis that felt like at the time, he took it in his stride. Anyone would think he’d be livid or inconsolable - after all, compared to me and Cal, Ricky was the prim and proper one of our little friend group. He barely ever hooked up with anyone, really.
No, instead, the thing which made it hard was telling his family, some of whom still don’t speak to him because of it. His sister won’t let him visit his nephews anymore, because she ‘doesn’t want him teaching them to make the same mistakes he did’. It makes my blood boil still just thinking about it. Family is supposed to be there for you, no matter what.
Then there was his dating life since. All through final year and after, nearly every guy who’d start talking to him would ghost on him once they found out he was Positive. And that’s the ones that were nicer about it, I guess. So many more would start calling him all kinds of awful things, or making wild assumptions about his promiscuity or lifestyle or just that he was ‘unclean’. It left him really alone for the longest time, and I remember one night, me and Cal racing over to his apartment after a particularly nasty piece of shit got in his head and we worried…
That was a hard night. We…we almost weren’t there in time, Ricky always wore a smile and would have a witty joke to share. We didn’t see how much he was really hurting.
But then he met Kevin. Kevin was Positive too, and he’d been through all that shit before and came out the other side of it. I think they met at a ‘Living with HIV’ support group that a drag queen at our fave bar pushed him to go to after what almost happened. They hit it off and became inseparable, and it was nice to see our happy, bright friend again, this time for real.
But when he gets a little emo-drunk, he can slip into either morose mode or burning firebrand, so sometimes me and Cal like to have each other’s back to pull him back down to Earth when that happens.
Ricky was so lucky to find Kevin. I sometimes wonder if I could ever be that lucky.
“Earth to Jesse. Come in, Jesse.” I startle and realize I went into my head again, looking at a smiling Cal, who’s closed his laptop.
“Listen, I got to head out. I have a shift at the comic shop in a bit and want to beat the rush on the subway,” he looks at my laptop. “Did you actually write anything yet?”
“Ah, no. Sorry, I was catching up on some more emails for the Pride book for Excelsior.” I admit, sheepishly.
“Dude, it’s a Sunday. They can’t expect you to work on a Sunday, and should that even be something you’re doing as an intern? I mean, I thought you said you were more of an errand boy there.”
“Well, you see…” I give him a brief and fast rundown on what happened, and how I got roped into nabbing a new writer for the book, and now I was kind of his direct editorial liaison, kinda unofficially officially. The Cliff Notes of the sudden increase in my responsibilities so Cal isn’t late.
“That is a lot, man. I think they’re kinda taking advantage of you,” he looks at me, biting his lip, his go-to concerned look.
“No, no, it’s cool, I want it. It’s a great opportunity, who knows where it could lead,” I argue.
“Well, have you even read my email with the pitch notes for a follow up to Flowers for the Dead ?” He raises an eyebrow, I suspect knowing the answer before I say it.
“Sorry, no, not yet. But I will, and soon. Maybe not before NYCC now, but I will, for sure,” I smile weakly, realizing I kinda let him down.
“Dude, you remember the internship was supposed to be a stepping stone for you towards getting your own comics work with a publisher like Excelsior in the future, right? I mean, it’s been a whole year, and we really should do a follow up to Flowers , people loved that from us. And I loved working with you on that. Have you even written any of your own comics in that time?”
I sheepishly obscure my face in my coffee cup, gurgling out a response into the lukewarm coffee. Cal folds his arms and tilts his head at me. Relenting, I put down the coffee cup, roll my eyes up and sigh.
“Yes, okay, no, I haven’t really had much time…”
“Dude,” Cal sighs in return, then looks at his watch. “Look, I got to run. But just, do me a favor and remember why you went in for that internship, okay? Maybe take a copy of the comic in with you, to remind yourself. You’re there to make your dreams happen, not someone else’s.” He gives me a lopsided smile, and then squeezes my shoulder as he passes me, in a gesture that is both deeply reassuring but also surprisingly…ouch. He really doesn’t know his own strength sometimes lately.
I wave him goodbye as he walks out the door, waving back at me, then look back to my laptop and the email from Hank. He wants to see me tomorrow, and says he’ll be stopping by my desk first thing. For the life of me, I can’t think why, but Anna’s warning rings in my head. But then, I wonder if I’m finally going to get some pushback for going over the line in the meeting. Maybe I should make sure to bring his coffee order in and have it with me, ready and waiting at my desk for when he stops by? Or is that being too much of a suck up? Or will it look like I’m flirting? I mean, now I know he’s gay too and likes, well, guys like me.
I didn’t tell Cal about what Anna told me about Hank. It didn’t feel right, or my place to do that. It might even be nothing to worry about, and Anna might be making a big deal out of nothing.
I glance at my email inbox, and see Cal’s email still unread, contemplating opening it and giving it a read. But my mind is just all over the place right now, I wouldn’t be able to give it the concentration it deserves.
Instead, I pack up my stuff and head out the door. After all, I have a maybe date to prepare for.