Climax

Curiosity Made Carl Gay - 5

Terry

I can't stop grinning. Carl didn't say no. It's half yes.

"Who put you in such a good mood?" Millie asks, leaning over the counter.

I roll my eyes. "A boy, obviously."

"Oui. What was I thinking. Stupid me," He wipes the counter. "The question should have been, who is that guy who put that pink on my chèri's cheek?" He wiggles his eyebrows.

I blush. "It's Carl, from school."

"Ooo.. kickboxing boy?" Millie comes around the counter and pulls me closer. "Tell me everything."

We should close the shop and go home. But we never did it right away. Millie is my other best friend. The owner of this pizza place and chef. He is thirty five, French and flamboyantly gay. He is kind of my role model. Not being in gay, but in general. In life. I look up to him.

He is stubborn and strong. Nothing brings him down.

I sag against the till. "He is so cute Millie, I want to… aahhhh.. I don't know just hug him and give him a hundred kisses."

"What's stopping you?" Millie pulls out a chair and sits down with a sigh. He spends most of the day standing. I take his legs and put them next to me on the table and start massaging.

"You don't have to do that." Millie moans.

"I want to. You should get help. At least to do the prep work. No man can stand in the heat of the kitchen for a full day."

"My ma did. Don't change the subject. Why can't you give a hundred kisses to your lover boy?" Millie stretches his toes and leans back on the chair.

I sit up on the table and knead his muscles below his knees. "He doesn't know if he likes boys or not."

"Ah. Closet case. Stay away, Terry."

"No. He really doesn't know I think. I want him to try, you know? Like with me. I want to be the one to show him the pleasures of being gay. I want to seduce him. I want to—"

Millie pulls his legs down abruptly and squints at me. "That's dangerous. What if he's straight? What if you got too invested? You'll end up hurt. Let him figure it out on his own. You're already too starry eyed for him."

His warning takes the air out of my soaring heart. "But he won't know until he experiments. Why can't that be me? I want to, Millie. I asked him out, he said he'll think about it. I think he'll say yes."

Millie rubs his forehead. "Bi curious. Most likely he'll end up with a girl who has pointy front globes and curvy back ones."

I chuckle. "Why are you always cynical? What's wrong with pointy globes and curvy backs?"

"Nothing wrong, it's the men who choose them for the wrong reasons. Listen, you won't let him get into you? Understand? Promise me." Millie gets this intense look that makes me worried.

"Promise, this flat back would be closed tight and I'll put a no entrance board. Happy?"

Millie nods and hugs me. "I want you to be happy. Not hurt. You are too naive."

"I am not."

"Oui, you are." He tickles my side and I start giggling.

The doorbell jingles and we both look at the entrance surprised. I put the closed sign half an hour ago.

Standing there looking thunderous is our local deputy Samuel Quentin.

Millie and Sam have very odd dynamics.

All I know is it's very intense.

"Terrence, shouldn't you be home by now?" Sam glances at me with questioning eyebrows.

"He is helping me. What do you want deputy? We're closed." Millie asks, putting back his socked feet up on the table, a look of challenge in his stance.

I so not want to be in the middle of this.

"I'll get going. Night Millie, bye Mr. Quentin." I gather my phone and bag and leave the two men alone to continue their glaring contest.

****

The house looks empty, I enter quietly. But there's a muted sound coming from the living room. Dad hasn't come back yet.

I walk quietly and peek at the couch.

"Is it you Terry?" Mom asks from her perch on the couch. I sigh in relief and slouch next to her.

"Did you have dinner?" She swipes away my sweaty hair.

"Yes, mom. Millie made some pasta."

Mom hums. "Can you not look for some other work?"

Fear clutches my throat.

"Did dad say something?"

She wraps me in a warm hug. "Yes dear. His colleague saw you there last week I guess. He doesn't want his son working for a queer guy," she kisses my head. "I'm sorry honey, I know how much it hurts you. I wish I could do something."

Her sad voice produces tears in my eyes. "It's okay mom. I'll think of something. You can tell him I'm looking for some other work."

"Why don't you tell him yourself tomorrow? You hardly see him anymore. He is your dad, he loves you, he is proud of you, please Terry." Mom pleads. The unfairness of her request makes me angry.

"He won't be proud if I come out to him. Will he? He'll throw me out without blinking an eye. Why should I talk to him?" I lash out at her.

She tears up, "if you keep distancing yourself, there is no chance for you to make him understand."

I laugh bitterly and stand up. "Mom, there is no chance to make him understand. Period. I have a scar to prove that. Good night Mom."

I take two steps at a time and reach the top of the stairs panting heavily. I'll get a full scholarship and leave this house for good.

Dad can fuck himself.

I finger the scar in my abdomen. No, I'm not thinking about it and ruin my sleep.

I brush and floss and get into bed with headphones on, resolute to block the voices downstairs.

My phone vibrates under my pillow.

I read the text and grin.

Prince Carl: How about Friday evening? The central mall?

Terry: Am I allowed to hold your hands?

Prince Carl: I thought that's a mandatory thing to do. No?

I laugh.

Terry: Yes, it is.

Prince Carl: You good with the time and place?

Terry: Yep.

Carl goes all out. Doesn't he? No dingy corner coffee shop, or badly lit game centers. He chose a Friday evening to go to the mall when it will be fully packed. He isn't worried about closets. I bet he doesn't even know what it is.

One good thing about dating a boy close to my age is no one would know for sure. I can roam in the public holding hands and guys like my dad will think we're goofing around.

****End of Chapter Five****