The Last Time We Met

2

Dating Brent was a whirlwind of private beaches and parties and movie premieres. He had a lot of friends, and yes, they were all exes, but it was a huge incestuous group that had all dated each other and sometimes still hooked up. Brent owned a cherry red convertible with a car phone, and lived in a loft apartment off-campus with his best friend Todd, who wore pastel-colored polo shirts and had feathery blond hair.

After just one date, I knew I could never bring Brent over to my place. My apartment, maybe, because it was pretty close to campus and Lisa was good at decorating. But never my house out in Reseda, where I had shared a room with two cousins, and my aunt and uncle lived with us, along with my grandmother.

So far, Brent had been more than willing to pay for things, or else pay half. But now, sitting in a restaurant so fancy I'd had to borrow a sports jacket from Brent to fit their dress code, I twisted the napkin in my lap and wondered how I'd ever be able to afford anything on the menu. Especially since the menu didn't show the prices.

When I ordered a salad and a water, Brent looked at me with concern. "Are you okay?" he asked, after the waiter left.

"Not feeling very hungry," I said.

"You sure?" Brent had ordered a steak.

I nodded.

"I should have ordered a bottle of wine for the table," Brent said. He raised his hand and snapped for the waiter's attention. And got it, immediately. I didn't know how a person did something like that.

The waiter hurried over. I had a feeling Brent's father was someone well-connected, and those connections were how Brent had gotten us a table here. "Joan Collins eats there," he'd told me. "And my father said he saw John Travolta last summer."

After Brent ordered a bottle of wine, and the waiter had brought it over in a bucket of ice and poured it for us while telling us all about the wine's "oaky bouquet" and its "legs," we clinked glasses and I tried to relax. I found myself looking around and noticing how few non-white people were there. Most of the non-white people were either Asian or on the waitstaff.

"I can't believe we've been dating for a month already," Brent said. "This is my longest relationship."

"Really?" I asked.

Brent laughed. "You sound surprised. You've met, like, fifty of my exes."

"I have, haven't I? I don't know, it just seems weird. Because you're also my longest relationship. But I've never been in a relationship, unless you count my high school girlfriend. Which I don't."

"Why don't you count it? Because you never had sex?" Brett swirled his wine around.

I shrugged. "No. It just... once I knew I was gay, it didn't feel like it counted. And now Lisa and I are best friends, and roommates, and it doesn't feel like we ever dated. It was more like we were hanging out."

"And sometimes kissing?"

"Yeah, we kissed sometimes," I said laughing. "It's weird to think about now."

Brent nodded. "I might have to meet this Lisa."

"She's cool. She'd love to meet you."

"She should come to Clay's Halloween party! It's gonna be amazing, his mom works as a makeup artist for Universal – she helped do the makeup for American Werewolf in London."

I nodded, because the special effects on that movie had been pretty awesome. But this was the first I was hearing about a Halloween party.

"Yeah, and obviously, you're coming with me. I have this amazing idea for a costume. For both of us."