Chapter 13
chapter thirteen
priscilla
“Well, today was particularly shittastic. We’ll never have to wait too long for a fucked up take as long as that guy from probation keeps coming to these meetings.”
I sighed and kept walking, out of our weekly multi-disciplinary team meeting, and turned to my friend Bri.
“I appreciate you and your patience, Bri.”
He gave me a rueful look and rolled his eyes in the direction of the conference room we’d just exited. “Well, it’s all for the children.” He delivered that deadpan, because that’s the BS that the problematic people in our team usually lead with whenever they were about to say something dumb.
The meetings were useful and I appreciated being in the loop about the cases we worked on, which all involved children who had been abused, so a team approach was great.
But my tolerance for bullshit seemed to be at an all-time low.
Only the fact that Bri and the two ADAs we worked with were there to hold it down, kept me from snatching one or two of the usual assholes in that meeting.
Thankfully they usually intervened, so I didn’t have to be the one to constantly point out shit like “I’m not sure what they do in Peru about child abuse, Ted, because I was born here and my parents are Dominican.
” Or “Latinx people don’t all live in the same country, Karen. ”
Bri looked at his watch and angled his head in the direction of the Child Advocacy Center’s exit. “Reyes’s mom sent me lunch. You want to walk over with me? I know there’s enough for five people.”
I smiled at that and nodded, as I patted my jacket looking for where I’d put my phone. “Sure. I can use some Dominican arroz con habichuelas. Leave it to you to score the one Dominican dude in the Tri-State area willing to bring you his mom’s cooking to work.”
Bri’s angelic face reddened. He had two small black gauges in his ears which really stood out in contrast to his slender and pale neck.
He was small, about three inches shorter than me, but he was very strong.
His forearms corded with muscle. He always wore slacks and sweaters with leather vans.
He was pretty, and he took meticulous care of himself.
He said it was a ritual that felt almost sacred for him after his transition.
To be able to dress and groom himself. To look on the outside how he always knew himself to be on the inside.
“You look good, Bri. Are those the ones Reyes did for Vans?” I pointed at the burgundy leather slip-ons with soles that had the Pride colors on top. The left shoe had the words “We Are” and the right had “Orgullo” the word for Pride in Spanish.
Bri’s man, Reyes, was a renowned Dominican pop-culture graphic artist and lately was working on some pretty big projects.
Bri blushed again and nodded. “Yeah, they’re not supposed to come out until April, for Pride next year, but I got some early ones.”
I winked at how happy he looked. “You got the connect. He better get me a pair.”
He laughed. “Of course, I told him already.”
I threw an arm around him, a smile on my own lips. Seeing Bri’s glow whenever he talked about his boyfriend was infectious. “That’s why you’re my favorite, and why that man of yours is a keeper.”
Bri’s blue eyes sparkled at the mention of his partner.
Like they always did. Bri was from the Midwest, Wisconsin, but he’d come to New York for college and stayed.
Once he decided to transition, things with his family became strained, but they’d eventually come around.
He was amazing and doing so much for trans youth Uptown, together with his man, who was the most woke Dominican cis dude I had ever met, and my bar was high.
When Bri and I met through work when I’d started here a year ago, we made fast friends.
He’d also gotten an earful when I got back from the DR and had to tell someone about what had gone down between J and me.
As we walked out of the center and headed the few blocks to his boyfriend’s studio, I remembered to check the messages on my phone. As soon as I saw the missed call and voicemail from Juan Pablo, my heart pounded against my chest.
How the hell could he still do that after all this time?
Just seeing his name on my screen sent my heart into a gallop in my chest. I’d been thinking nonstop about him reading my blog and listening to my podcasts.
About the way he got the essence of what I was doing, because he knew, he got me.
And I was avoiding what all that meant at all costs.
Other than Bri, Easton, and Camilo, I hadn’t really told anyone about this new venture. How happy it made me to write and share my thoughts on sexuality, desire, and my own journey in all that. A journey that, in large part, Juan Pablo had been along for the ride.
“You’re pensive today.”
Bri’s curious voice brought me out of the swirl in my head. He was looking at my phone which I was now clutching tightly. “Bad news?”
I shook my head once and then sighed. “It’s Juan Pablo.”
“Oh?” Bri knew me enough to know that with J, nothing was ever simple for me. Not because he was making it complicated these days, but more because my feelings for him never seemed to get less confusing, or consuming.
“I don’t know what he’s calling about. I haven’t talked to him since I got back.”
Bri raised an eyebrow in question; he was well aware the lines of communication had been severed on my end.
Thankfully, we were almost to Reyes’s studio and that bought me some time to digest why I was making such a big deal out of a voicemail.
When we arrived, I held my phone up and waved Bri off.
“Let me listen to the message, I’ll catch up with you in a minute. ”
As soon as Bri was in the store, I tapped on my phone and pressed it to my ear. J’s voice as always made my guts go liquid, and as I listened, I felt a mix of feelings I wasn’t sure how to untangle.
I knew his mother had probably asked him to call me. I knew Irene’s agenda and it involved me shacked up with her son after a white wedding.
There was no nefariousness to his message. I could be polite. This was family business, and J and I had never let our mess interfere with that. So I texted him back.
Priscilla: So your mom’s got you calling people for an RSVP?
After a few seconds the three dots appeared and a response came shortly after.
Juan Pablo: Nah. You’re my only assignment.
Why did my belly have to flip over like that?
Priscilla: She gave you the toughest case then.
Juan Pablo: Always, but she knows I like a challenge.
I didn’t have to wonder; I knew what this was.
We were flirting, and for the first time in days, I felt something loosen in me.
Felt the tightness around my mouth and in my shoulders ease just a little bit.
It had taken eight words from Juan Pablo.
I could come up with a thousand reasons not to do this.
To steer very clear of playing a game with J that would end up with my heart torn out of my chest. But right now, I didn’t want to let go of this easy, light feeling I had.
Priscilla: I know you do, but yeah, I’ll be there.
I saw the three dots pop up and disappear a few times, until a bubble with a message finally appeared.
Juan Pablo: See you then, Pris. Take care of yourself, all right?
I was unreasonably annoyed at the disappointment I felt when that was all he had to say.
I should’ve left it alone. I should have walked into the store and had Dominican lunch with Bri and Reyes.
Juan Pablo was abiding by the boundaries I’d set and I should do the same.
Instead I stepped right onto the Road to Perdition and sprinted.
Priscilla: Okay. Looking forward to seeing you, J.
I closed the message app before the three dots on the screen could turn into a message from Juan Pablo and pushed the door open to the store, where I found Bri doing what could only be called canoodling with Reyes.
“Dimelo,” I said, as I walked up to Reyes for an air kiss hello.
I looked around the store, the prints on the wall and the racks with t-shirts and sweatshirts all original designs. Reyes as always was wearing some of his merch. He was a big guy, but kind of precious. The very definition of a bear. He was fucking gone for Bri, and I really loved him for it.
“What’s good, Pris? Are you two staying out of trouble?” He asked as he tightened his arms around Bri, who was leaning against him.
“We try.” I pointed at Bri’s shoes. “That hustle is really bearing fruit, huh.”
Reyes gave a lopsided smile as he looked down at Bri, a besotted expression on his face.
“I can’t complain. The sweatshirts and hats with the design you wanted are in.
” He pointed in the direction of a rack of black sweaters.
I’d asked Reyes for them after seeing him post about them on Instagram right after I’d gotten back from the wedding.
My heart sped up remembering who I’d wanted the sweatshirt for.
Juan Pablo. It was a simple design but this had El Bronx emblazoned in a heavy gothic-looking white font in the center.
I picked one off the rack smiling. Repping the Bronx was basically J’s brand.
It occurred to me that he and Reyes would have a lot to talk about if they ever met.
I found myself thinking I’d like to see that.
I waited for the self-recrimination that usually came with ideas about Juan Pablo, but in the end, I didn’t have the energy for any of it.
I wanted to give him the sweater. See his gorgeous smile as he read what it said.
Just to make it less reckless, I grabbed a fitted hat that said Uptown for J’s dad. A solid birthday present. I placed them both on the counter as Reyes and Bri observed me.
“Your mood has shifted. Shall I take a guess?” That was Bri.
I lifted a shoulder and tried not to give too much away, because honestly, I wasn’t too sure what I was doing anyway.
“Same old. Same old.”
I left it at that and averted my gaze from Bri’s knowing eyes. Because that piece was a lie. Nothing about this felt like the same old thing. Juan Pablo felt new in ways which made me feel like there was something worth exploring there, even if just until I figured myself out.