Right Uppercut

Chapter 10

“I don’t want to be the stereotypical gay best friend who helps you shop,” Mitch said, holding up a flannel shirt. “But, you need the fashion Jesus, a.k.a. me.”

I was sitting at my old wooden desk with an open history book in front of me as I tried to study. Between work, school, and visiting my dad everyday in the hospital, I was spread pretty thin. It felt like I was constantly behind, especially with school work.

“Okay,” I mumbled absently.

“I don’t think you own a single good outfit for a party in here,” he announced as he rested his hands on his hips and shook his head at my closet.

“Probably not.”

“Ooh… what’s this?” He purred. I clearly wasn’t paying him any attention, so when he said that, I just continued reading about dead white men. “Daphne! I am shocked!”

“Cool.”

“Where did this come from?” He shouted, shoving something pink and sequined in front of my face.

I tried to push it away. “Mitch, stop.”

“I can’t. It’s not every day that you find a slinky, sequined bikini in your modest best friends closet,” he tried to reason with me in my focused state.

Then it began to register in my mind. I almost heard the pieces clicking together as I slowly turned to look at him. I stood up abruptly and ripped the clothing out of his hands. “It’s nothing.”

“Oh, it’s something,” he argued. “I’m willing to forget the ugly Hawaiian shirt you said belonged to your dad and you didn’t know how it got there.”

I ignored his comment and tossed the stupid outfit into the back corner of my closet. “Can we just ignore it, please?”

“Wow, it must be someone’s time of the month…” he said quietly, knowing it would piss me off. We’ve had similar arguments before.

I glared at him. “Even if I’m not, would you really want to fight with a girl on her period? Does that seem wise to you?”

Smirking he replied, “Nah, I just love to get you going.” Then he plopped onto my bed and folded his hands over his stomach. “So, talk to me, Daph. Where’d the outfit come from?”

I opened my mouth, not sure what was going to come out of it. I felt the words forming to tell him the truth, to tell him the real reasons I had never taken up his many invitations to high school parties.

Then the phone rang. I guess I was saved by the bell, but I didn’t know if that was a good or bad thing. I was actually liking the idea of no more secrets from my best friend.

“Be right back,” I said quickly, taking long strides to the kitchen, where the phone was hanging the wall. I tried to read the caller ID, but the screen had long ago stopped being readable. Most of the time, if I didn’t want to talk to anyone, I would just let it go, since it was most likely a toll free caller, but I’ve been answering it lately in case it’s the hospital or my dad with news.

“Hello?”

“Oh, hey!” An unfamiliar voice answered. They were too casual for any of the usual callers, so I pulled the phone away from my ear and looked at the receiver.

“Um, who is this?” I asked, confusion lacing my words.

“Who is this?” They answered.

I swear, if this is a prank caller... 

“I’m about to hang up in 3… 2-” I started to countdown.

“Wait, wait, wait, it’s Noah,” the caller replied. “I was just messing around with you.”