Narrator: Leslie Defiere
I knew they weren’t going to do it. And the beanbag with the red food coloring – classic. Adam seemed slightly disconcerted with the experience of being somewhat, abused by two gay men. More than slightly, actually. I don’t think he’ll ever forget tonight – I don’t think any of us will.
“Fucking hell, what is wrong with those two gay fags?!” His deep breathing stopped as he leaned against the wall of the living room and faced me.
“The fags are gay. That’s what’s wrong with them. But hey, they didn’t really do anything to you, Adam. You’ve still got all your… reproductive organs in the works,” I said comfortingly.
“I hope so. Those tadpoles better be swimming in there…”
To be honest, I found the incident rather entertaining. There was something about seeing macho man Adam gagged and held captive by Kieth and Greg. It was funny to know that two gay men could scare him. It told me he was human and he wasn’t always the cool guy who, even when naked in a swimming pool full of people, could turn the embarrassment on others by one of his sly (and usually sick) remarks.
Brent is… too human, I guess. That’s why I can’t blame him. He has vices; shaking fits in absence of World of Warcraft and spending too much money on comic books. And giving in to sexual desires is just another one of them. When man first set foot on this earth, did they say “it’s only right to be with one woman at a time”? Were they particularly smart? No, they weren’t. So I can’t go up to Brent and say he’s such an ass for being slow, and break up with him.
Plus, he loves me. That’s what makes him different from the primitive man. That’s what Mom said about Dad. Not Lawrence, Dad. I can’t tell you what his name is - I don’t know. I can’t tell you what he looks like - I don’t know. I don’t know because she didn’t tell me. She killed herself, leaving me with a deranged drug addict of a stepfather and no information about, possibly, my last hope of a real parent. And I needed one now; I’m cheating on my boyfriend with a guy who’s got a special something, and gay dudes upstairs who are humping each other, and a house I have to go home to full of crack. I was at a dead end, a dark dead end.
I stared at Adam, and everything else went silent. His lips were moving and his face was taking shapes of laughter, disgust and annoyance. My lips moved in response, but I couldn’t hear it. My heart was making space for only my parent’s words, my ears refusing to listen to anything else. A mom or a dad needed to fix this. Like they fix a boo-boo from a fall from the bicycle or an arm detached from an action figure.
Where the fuck are you?
It’s my fault, I was too late.
How can you teach your only daughter to become so fucked up?
It’s my fault, I fucked myself up.
“I’m gonna go for a shower; I feel all… sticky. Gay fags.” I watched Adam walk off to the basement bathroom.