The Lunatics 2: Push Tumble & Fall

Saturday, 4:00 a.m

It was almost four in the morning.

It took exactly twenty minutes to make it to Jonathan's apartment from Laurels, and in the interim, he had texted twice.

First text: Looks like I will be getting my hour break now, meet me at the apartment instead.

Second text: Napkin art by Jonathan. A picture of a dinosaur saying "All my friends are dead," followed.

I stopped in front of his building. It was a rundown two-hundred-year-old structure painted bright orange. The rent was cheap, and it was right in front of the RedEye, so it suited Jonathan just fine.

There was a couple of homeless guys that sat on the sidewalk. They were leaning on each other to keep the other propped up. Neither of them spoke, and one of them was nodding in and out. Their sorrow smelled like a fruity candy-cane. It stung my Spirals with a drip of Desire.

I pushed open the front door and ran up the stairs.

****

"Because DeaDorian would not agree," I said.

Jonathan pulled me closer into his arms. I was still half-dressed, and he was in his underwear. He was a Vassar graduate that took a break after graduation and landed in New Orleans. He'd been here for a year and was working as the head bartender at the RedEye.

"When then?" asked Jonathan. "When will you tell him or your family about us?"

I just smirked, and he leaned in and gave me a pop kiss. He managed my hesitation as a good man does. "Take all the time you need, sweetheart."

Jonathan pulled himself up and grabbed a pack of smokes that was on the nightstand. Everything in his apartment was rundown. The mattress, the curtains, the carpet, even his only two-pint glasses, which he had taken from the bar, were scratched up and dirty.

"You know how many drunk girls I saw last night at the bar?" He grinned slightly while he held the match steady. "They all have the same formula. They start with something fancy like a Cosmopolitan. After number three, someone has the idea of a Tequila shot, and shortly after that comes the girl-on-girl kissing show," he inhaled cigarette smoke, "Only to be followed by the demonstration of the boobs."

"Sounds like a fun party," I said. I pulled myself up and leaned my back against the wall.

"A party of sloppy drunks," Jonathan said. "Not everyone's like you." He quietly admired me for being straight. "You're special."

"I know," I said half-jokingly, knowing my cockiness turned him on.

He laughed and placed his hand on my thigh. He dug the side of his head into my neck. "That's why I don't understand what the big deal is with DeaDorian; you couldn't be more together if you tried. Doesn't he know that his little sister dates? I'm a great guy. Don't you think he'll see that?"

That's the story I had told Jonathan and everyone we ever met. As far as anyone knew, Loxi, Tuesday, and I were all siblings. And Laurels was our family inheritance.

I had convinced Jonathan that it wasn't that DeaDorian didn't like me dating, but that he didn't want me dating anyone that much older than me. Jonathan was twenty-three.

But the truth was that I kept Jonathan far enough away from the nucleus that was my real life. He served as my escape. Therefore, distance was essential to the role he played in my life.

"I understand that you want to get closer and get to know more of who I am," I said, "I'm flattered." I smiled. "But I'm not ready for that step."