Only For You(15)By: Genna Rulon
Sam was unconvinced. “Are you sure? That wasn’t the vibe I picked up; my gaydar needle didn’t even twitch."
"I’m positive,” I stressed, then proceeded to share my observations as evidence. Yes, I was stereotyping terribly, not all gay men could be identified by looks, behavior, or attitude, and he didn’t tick many of the points on my pigeonholed checklist. It was necessary to examine the nuances of Hunter to support my conclusion.
"You know what this means, don't you?" Sam stared at me blankly, clueless to the source of my excitement. “He is going to be our third Musketeer! It will be perfect."
"Insta-friend? I'm not sure, Ev. I see the draw for us. But what’s in it for him? You’ve been rather insulting where he is concerned. He may not be receptive to your sudden attempts at camaraderie.”
"He was rude to me first!” I nearly shrieked in defense. “Plus, I think he was enjoying the verbal warfare. It’s a game now—albeit one he keeps winning—but I’ll get points on the board soon. How could he not want to befriend us? Beautiful, smart, witty, fun, and loyal; he won't be able to resist."
"Should we devise an induction ceremony for him?" she mocked my excitement. After visible consideration she continued, “There would be benefits to finally having a gay bestie. Think of the pointers and insight he could provide on blowjob techniques alone. With his input, I could be legendary; no man would be beyond my reach. Do you know how many fights with future boyfriends my oral finesse could prevent? I’d even be able to persuade a man to see a romantic comedy with me after he was getting some.” She gasped, clapping her hands excitedly, “Can you fathom how many pieces of jewelry this sexpertise would coax from my future husband?" These realizations had earned her full support of my nomination.
“Sam, too much information. Filter, please,” I scolded, but smiled inwardly at her shared eagerness.
“All of it.”
Sam fully embraced Hunter as our soon-to-be third, even enumerating the advantages if he were here with us. As we danced she added, “It would definitely help to repel the riffraff two girls dancing together attracts.”
As if on cue, a cute boy appeared behind Sam. She looked into my eyes for a cue—catch or release? I subtly pushed her shoulder causing her to lean into cute boy’s chest, which was all the encouragement Sam needed. Spinning around she began to dance—or more accurately grind—with him and he offered no complaints.
I continued to dance adjacent to them, providing space but still indicating I was not alone trolling for men. I felt a body press against me from behind as hands gripped my hips. I turned my head to admonish the unsolicited advance and found Lincoln grinning widely, much to my relief. Linc and I had become friends freshman year and often danced together when we were out. It was innocent fun with no genuine hunger between us.
The night ended with my promise to meet Linc for lunch the next week, and Robbie—Sam’s cute boy—attaining her number.
* * *
"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it’s those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand.” -Henri Nouwen
I woke Friday morning at 11:00, a luxury for me, and found Sam at the kitchen table eating breakfast.
“Coffee’s in the pot, Eggo’s in the toaster,” she offered succinctly.
I grunted before continuing to the kitchen to fill a mug with my first cup of the day. I carried my coffee and waffles to the table, almost ready to test my language skills, but not quite. Sam recognized the signs and resumed her chatter.
“Robbie texted me this morning.”
I raised one eyebrow to communicate my surprise and approval.
“He invited me to dinner tonight. I don’t have to work, so technically I’m free. Do I seem too available if I say yes?”
I raised both eyebrows to communicate disapproval.
“Yeah, yeah, no games. If I like him and I want to go, I should accept. He did text me within nine hours of receiving my number,” Sam sighed, “Okay, I’ll do it. You always give the best advice.”