Chapter Two Bag Open, Cat Out
Boy, did I ever fuck up.
Okay, I had a few drinks. But I wasn’t drunk. Why did I say that to him?
I considered calling in sick to work. I felt like shit, and Trish was going to kill me. But I hadn’t taken a day off work since I’d started. I was trying to impress my boss, Simon, so he’d let me apply to do a master’s in his lab next year.
So I went in to work. By that point, I was resigned to what was coming to me, and I just wanted to get it over with.
Twice on the subway, I almost puked, and not from my hangover.
I arrived at work on time. The lab was empty, so I figured I’d watch some observation videos in the conference room since no one had booked it. I figured it was a good place to hide.
I was leaving the lab when Trish walked in. We almost crashed into each other. I froze like a jacklit deer.
“Hi, Craig!” she said. She walked around me into the lab because I was still standing there.
“Hey.” I laughed nervously.
“That was fun last night, but my ears are still ringing,” she said.
“Yeah.”
I waited for her to deck me. But she was acting normally. Which meant he hadn’t told her.
I went to the conference room in a daze, turned on the computer, and played a video on the big screen. I started filling in an observation form while I watched—pretended to watch—the video. I thought about last night.
I’d arrived at Deep Ice way too early and had to wait outside for an hour, during which, I regretted not wearing a coat.
When they arrived, I noticed him first. He walked with a hitch in his step. Like a limp, but energetic. When I saw him, I experienced this weird burst of joy, like I’d been feeling a low-grade pain all day, then suddenly it stopped.
He wasn’t wearing a coat either, but his jeans weren’t ripped, and his T-shirt looked new.
Do I shake his hand or...?
He smiled at me and waved, then Trish waved, then I waved casually, like I hadn’t been about to shake his hand. Like I took my hand out of my pocket just to wave at him and for no other reason.
It was Thursday night, and there wasn’t much of a line, so they let us in pretty fast. The club was all purple and white and blue neon light, with silver lines like cracked ice under the transparent floor. We grabbed an empty table.
“I got the drinks,” I said, really chill.
I bought three beers. Except, it turned out he didn’t drink alcohol, and Trish didn’t like beer. So I ended up with three beers when I was planning on having one. I’m a lightweight when it comes to alcohol. My ex-girlfriend Gem used to drink me under the table on the regular and tease me over it.
I went back and got him a Coke. I knew he drank Coke because he’d had one at dinner the night before. I got Trish a chocolate martini because I knew she liked chocolate.
They were playing retro Canadian songs. The people were mostly mid–late twenties.
The club was a bad idea. The loud music made it hard to have a conversation, and I didn’t know what to say.
Trish and I ended up talking about work, and I felt guilty and tried to include him in the conversation, but I had to shout over the music.
Every time I felt awkward, I took a sip of beer.
I drank three beers in twenty minutes, but I still felt awkward, so I bought a couple more and drank those too, and the next thing I knew, I was feeling really buzzed.
Then “When I’m Up” by Great Big Sea started playing, and I said, “Let’s dance!
” And we all piled onto the dance floor, and the lights were flashing blue and purple.
Then “Home for a Rest” played and everybody who wasn’t already on the dance floor was suddenly on the dance floor screaming and shouting and jumping around, and a woman crashed into me and nearly knocked me down, and I caught hold of him to stop myself falling.
And he was so solid, and he held me up. And I let him go and said, “Sorry.” Because I shouldn’t have touched him without his permission.
He nodded at our table, so the three of us started back, but Trish went off to the washroom on the way, so when we sat down, it was just him and me.
The music and the shouting were deafening.
It must have been the adrenaline from what had happened on the dance floor, and the beer, and seeing him sitting there looking so inviting, and—
And I leaned across the table and shouted, “I like you!” Just like that.
I’ve been told I get bold when I drink.
He smiled and gave me a thumbs-up. Like, no big deal.
He didn’t get what I meant.
I just wanted to explain. I figured if I used the right words, he’d understand. So, I leaned right across the table—I might have been partially on the table—and... And I said (okay, screamed), “I want you!”
I meant I wanted him as a friend. But as soon as I said it, I realized how it sounded. He blinked at me. Then Trish came back, and he put his arm around her. Then he kissed her or said something in her ear. Whichever it was, I got the message.
They got up, and I realized they were leaving. I stood up too, even though we weren’t a group of three anymore. It was them and me.
Outside was cold, and my head felt muffled, and I was feeling disoriented, and he asked me to share a cab with them.
I didn’t want to. I’d embarrassed myself enough for one night.
But he insisted, and we all sat in the back with Trish between him and me, and I didn’t say a word till the cab dropped me at my place, and I said goodbye to her and him and got the hell out of there fast, even though I couldn’t walk straight.
So, yeah, I fucked up. But he hadn’t told Trish.
Why didn’t he tell her?
Calm down, Porter.
I stopped the video because I hadn’t taken anything in, and before I could reconsider, I got up and left the building.
I had to explain myself, right? I walked into the Annex.
Halfway there, I got cold feet, but I would have looked like an idiot to everyone on the street if I’d turned around for no obvious reason.
So I kept walking to their place like I knew exactly what I was doing, and I knocked on the door like I meant business, and geez what the hell?
I wasn’t dressed up. I probably looked like shit. I was not ready for this.
Then the door opened, and there he was.
“Can I come in?” I’d already broken the social contract last night. Now I was sober, I wanted to say what I had to say in private.
He let me in, but I froze in the hallway because I had no idea what to say. I only knew I had to say something. It smelled like he was making grilled cheese for lunch.
“About last night,” I said.
“It’s fine.”
I couldn’t get over how chill he seemed.
“I was drunk,” I said.
“You’re forgiven.”
That was it? I came all the way here just to see him, and we were done? I stood there because I didn’t want to leave.
“What’s up?” he said.
“Look...” I didn’t know what to say, so I...
“I’m straight, okay? I’m twenty-two and I’ve never...
with a guy. I’ve never wanted to. I’ve had girlfriends.
I’ve had lots of sex with women. I’ve enjoyed it.
They’ve enjoyed it. I’ve never been attracted to a guy in my life.
Not even a little. I’ve never even thought about it before. ”
“Okay?” he said.
“Then I met you.”
You know how you’re talking, and you suddenly say something you didn’t know you were going to say, but when you say it, you realize it’s true? Yeah.
“You came here to say something you’ll need to apologize for again?” he said.
“I don’t know what I’m trying to say.”
“You want to try sex with a guy?” he said.
“Not just any guy. You. I mean—not sex. I don’t wanna have sex, but—”
“I’ve got a girlfriend,” he said, like that was the end of the conversation.
But I didn’t want to leave, because we’d just gotten to the point. We’d identified what had been bugging me since I met him.
So I blurted it out, sober this time. “I know you have a girlfriend, and I wouldn’t do that to Trish, and you’re probably not the person I should be telling this to, but I don’t know who else to talk to.
I honestly never felt like this before, not for any of my girlfriends.
Not this much. I can’t stop thinking about you.
I just want to be with you.” I squeezed my eyes shut because I did not want to see his reaction to that. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“You want something to drink?” He sounded totally relaxed after what I’d said. And he hadn’t told me to fuck off.
“Sure,” I said. “Got any milk?”
He led me into the kitchen where his lunch was sitting (it was a grilled cheese sandwich), and he poured some milk into an old Disney glass with a faded black-and-orange patch that looked like it used to be Goofy. He set the glass in front of me. His hand was steady. Mine weren’t.
He sat with me. His eyes were green with rings of golden brown, like lions’ manes, around his pupils.
I sipped my milk. I had problems swallowing, for some reason.
“When did you know you were bi?” I said.
“Six months ago, when I started seeing Trish. Before that, I had a boyfriend for eight years.”
“Were you attracted to other women besides Trish?”
“No.”
“It’s killing me to look at you, actually.” I wanted to move closer to him. I also wanted to run away. Just sitting still was hard.
“If it makes you feel better, you don’t have a choice here,” he said. “I’m in a relationship. Nothing’s gonna happen between us.”
“I don’t feel better. I just feel sad.” Relieved too, if I was honest. And, because what he’d said made it feel safe to go on, I said, “Can we maybe go out again—the three of us?”
“That’s not a good idea, Craig.”
“I won’t try anything on you. I just want to spend time with you, get to know you, be your friend.”
“You don’t really see me as a potential friend, do you, Craig? That’s not what you’re looking for here, is it?”
I did want to spend time with him—a lot more time. I did want to get to know him better. And if he couldn’t give me anything else, I’d accept his friendship and be grateful for it. But he wasn’t even offering me that.
“If you didn’t have a girlfriend, what would you say to me?”
“I do have a girlfriend.”
“What am I gonna do? How am I supposed to go around feeling like this and not being able to do anything?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Craig.”
“Haven’t you ever wanted someone you couldn’t be with?”
“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I have.”
I felt so jealous of whoever that person was.
“What did you do?” I said.
“Felt pretty fucking frustrated.”
“Did you get over it?”
“No.” He sighed, like he was tired. “You should probably go.”
And that was that. Like when your time runs out on an arcade game, and the screen goes dark, even though you were...not winning but getting somewhere.
He stood, and I followed him to the door.
“You won’t tell Trish?” I asked.
“No. It’s just between us.”
“Thanks.” I looked at him one last time, drinking him in. “I don’t know how I’m gonna figure this out without you. You’re amazing. I hope Trish appreciates how lucky she is.”
“Goodbye, Craig.”
“Bye.”
What else could I do? I left and went back to work.