I stare at the paper with a bored curiosity. It's an off white folding card, with a pseudo-fancy gold shine on the edges. In it were the words: You're formally invited to see this school off in a last hurrah at the giant house down the street. Bring a friend, bring a lover, bring a potted cactus plant on a jetpack. We don't care. Everyone in your grade will be there if we can help it, and then some.
Honestly it doesn't interest me, I mean who sends an invite to a wild party on a fancy card like this, but I take a look at it anyway. It's nothing special. It has pictures on it of just general wild party stuff. Some idiots getting drunk, some girl and some guy gyrating on each other, stuff I could just do anywhere else. I've probably had the exact same night last week, with a bottle of Captain Morgan and...
and...
and nobody. It just occurred to me, I'm almost out of college and I've never had that second experience, or the gay equivalent, or anything resembling it. Most of the parties I went to before were with the fraternity I used to be in, and they aren't exactly keen on me dancing on a hot guy. Then again, I didn't have a hot guy I wanted to be dancing on anyway.
"J, what are you reading?"
But now I do. Behind me is Travis Hunter, spread out on the couch in a pair of gray shorts, and an oversized red shirt, his beautiful orange hair in a mess like he just got up. After everything he's gone through, I'd like to show him a good time, like that guy and that girl are having.
I guess I'm going to that party.
"It's an invitation to a party right before graduation. There's another one for you. I'm definitely going."
He got up to see it.
"You wanna come with me? It says 'bring a lover'"
Despite not moving, he immediately backed away. I could see it in his eyes. That was a mistake.
"Hell no, I'm not gonna be your arm candy."
"Travis, you know that's not what I'm doing."
"Right."
He walked away to his bedroom. Damn it, why did I have to suggest that? I guess I should explain. He never really wanted to be gay, and he wanted to change that about himself for years. He can live with it now, but that doesn't mean he's comfortable enough with the idea to be super open about it. And I guess being described as the lover I'm bringing with me hurt his masculinity.
I'll have to tread carefully here.
I walk in and he's sitting and angsting in the corner.
"Hey, Dude... I didn't mean to imply that you're... I don't know how to put it"
"Your hoe?"
"Yeah, I guess so. What I really wanted was for us to go together... As two men... no hoes. We haven't really had the chance to just exist as a pair around people without feeling guilty about it."
He looks up with a sort of nervous realization. He's thinking about it. He looks back down, and stands up.
"I'm going. But not... with you... I mean I'll be with you, but not... like that... you know what I mean. There's me and you there, but not 'us' there"
He's splitting hairs, I mean it's not like this is a date, but I get what he's saying. Also he ruined the night and everything is different. I'm not making any sense, but neither is he.
"That's fine. As long as you're there."
He seems to see the look on my face, because he looks away, kind of angry but mostly sad.
