Chapter 4 #2
Penelope chuckles, then stands, picking up her glass.
“What better friend to have than someone who shares your boudoir? Or various lovers who know you well? Grayson, you’re gay.
You should have a string of suitors to dine with, socialise with, then have sex with.
Take a leaf out of my book. Making love keeps you sane. ”
I instantly think of Milo, then consider who my other lovers could be. Edgar, the IT guy at work? Nah. What would we talk about besides internet speeds and OLED screens? Those topics aren’t conducive to foreplay.
My phone chimes. I wander to the bedroom where it’s charging. Milo has sent a second text. I’m relieved he took the initiative as I couldn’t work out what to say to his first message. And Milo mustn’t think he’s being ghosted.
“Who is it?” Penelope calls out, being nosey.
“It’s my boss.”
An odd odour fills the bedroom. Like food has been left rotting inside a rubbish bin and someone has lifted the lid.
“You’re lying,” she calls back.
“How do you know?”
“Because of that smell. You can smell that, can’t you, Grayson?”
The pong has subsided. I stroll back to the living room.
“That stench is the smell of bullshit. Not literally. But you’ll know someone’s fibbing when there’s an awful smell.” She studies me. “It’s a love interest, isn’t it? That’s who the text is from?”
I sit on the couch, too coy to answer.
“Hmm.” She puts her glass on the coffee table and sits.
“Grayson, darling. Love makes the world go around, and regardless of what I said about being a gay man...” She pauses.
“Grayson, I have a string of lovers, ex-lovers...” She waggles her eyebrows.
“...three ex-husbands, and more admirers keen to break down my door and learn the art of love.”
I read the message again.
“Did he send a dick pic?”
I shake my head. “No. It’s worse.”
“What? He put his camera on timer then bent over and spread his cheeks—”
“He wants to go on a date.”
Penelope’s eyes are wide, like she’s snorted the pure stuff. “Well, don’t just sit there. Reply. Say yes.” She snaps her fingers.
I’m suddenly in black designer jeans which resemble army pants, with large buttoned pockets both above and below my knees. My shirt is red with thin black vertical lines which strobe as I move. I check my feet. “White sneakers? With this outfit?”
“You’ve got a point.” Another finger snap. The shoes are now the same shade of red as my shirt. “Go look in the mirror.”
I scurry to my bedroom, excited to see my new look.
Wow. She’s given me a haircut. Short back and sides, with a mop of hair on top.
She enters with the two glasses of champagne. “Are you going to text him back?”
I show her his message. “He wants to see me tonight.”
She smirks. “It’s not like you have other plans.”
I nod.
“So, what’s the problem?”
“He’s hot.”
I glance at my reflection and realise I’m also pretty cute with this makeover.
The shirt is tighter than I’m used to and my burly biceps stand out under my sleeves.
The result of many hours spent in the pool in my early teens.
It was my solitary focus on weekends to fill up my time, as too many peers turned out to be homophobic when I hung out with them.
Being alone in the water allowed me to daydream of a better life.
Penelope snatches my phone and types. “Milo, where shall we meet?”
“Hey. You’re making me sound desperate.”
“Well, there’s an earlier message here you didn’t reply to—”
“Because you visited.”
That bad odour returns. Penelope rolls her eyes. “No one likes to be ghosted, sunshine.” She gives my mobile back. “Not even ghosts.”
My phone chimes. “He’s suggesting...”
“Why did you stop reading?”
“Because I’m in shock.”
“Why? What did he suggest? An orgy as a first date?” She eyes me with the wickedest grin. “If he doesn’t work out, at least you’ll be in the right place to find a rebound.”
“He wants to take me to a nice restaurant. And he wants to pay.”
“Hold on to this one. He has money. Even if he is twice your age, hold on to this one.”
“He’s not older,” I reply, surprised she thought I was a gold digger.
“Even better.”
Another notification sound. I check it. “It’s the address of the restaurant.”
“What restaurant is it?”
“Venture.” I’m impressed. “My boss loves that place. But it’s expensive.”
“All the more reason to go.”
She snaps her fingers. I’m on a footpath, walking, my phone no longer in my hand. I halt to get my bearings. Venture is up ahead. But Milo won’t be there yet as he only just texted the invitation.
I check my pockets. I find my phone and it seems there’s been more conversation back and forth. And my tummy feels funny. It’s a mix of nerves and hunger as I only ate a few mouthfuls of pie.
I take a deep breath and catch my reflection in the window of a shop.
Red shirt. Black jeans. I lift my feet. Red shoes which I consider clicking three times to return back home.
But my likeness smiles at me and I see just how adorable I can be.
I smile back and my image points to the restaurant.
I’m frozen on the spot and he pokes his tongue out at me.
I run off and only slow down when I reach Venture.
As I walk in, my nose twitches. My shoulders rise. I intake breath.
“Aah choo!”
My top is long, green, and scratchy. There’s a bow in my hand and arrows in a quiver strapped to my back.