to gossip—especially about a story like Zoe’s—is a strong one, and I was glad she didn’t succumb to Liza.
“I heard that he was robbing banks and everything,” Liza said.
Lizzie laughed and said that’s not true and Liza asked her if she knew the whole story. Lizzie said she did but that she didn’t have the energy to tell it now. Liza pestered her for another few minutes and then looked at Lizzie and said, with a tad of pity, “Yeah, you need to freshen up. Promise you’ll tell me tonight!” Then she turned to Tommy and me and said, “Bye, boys.”
“Bye,” I said with a plastic smile.
Tommy had already turned to go up to his room and Lizzie and I caught up with him. “I forgot how draining these things could be,” I said.
“I forgot how many people I didn’t like,” Lizzie said with the same look she’d have if she’d bitten into a rotten piece of fruit.
“You two love it and you know it,” Tommy said. And he was kind of right.
7
Bram
My phone rang just as I was opening my hotel room door. It was Bram.
Bram’s the guy I’ve been dating for the past two or three months. I’d known him for a while, a couple of years really, but we just started actively dating each other recently. He’s a cool guy. A while back I used to date Bram’s roommate Andy. I wouldn’t really say date; we never really had a date. Well sort of. We had lunch a few times but not really as dates. Mostly we were fuck buddies who happened to work in the same office building. It was like cock convenience at its best. Anyway, when Andy found out—not that it was a secret in any way—that I had hooked up with Bram he kind of freaked. I mean, they were roommates and I guess it might have been slightly uncool of me to fuck his roommate, but I mean we didn’t have the presumption of any sort of commitment.
So when I first fucked around with Bram, we three-wayed with my boyfriend-at-the-time King Kong (so nicknamed for the size of his mammoth cock). But recently, now that King Kong was out of the picture and Andy was too, Bram and I have been hanging out a lot together. It’s been one of those cool, no-commitment gigs like I enjoy, but the more time we spend together the more I feel it drifting toward an unspoken relationship. It’s just about getting to the point where we talk or e-mail almost every day and we basically expect to see each other every Saturday night. This is the point where I always get a little freaked in relationships and want to bail. Sometimes I do something stupid to sabotage it and other times I let it go on too long and end up in a deeper hole than I should be. No pun intended; Bram fancies himself a top mostly anyway.
We’ve never talked about it or defined it in any concrete way, but I just know he feels it too. Like in clubs or bars when he puts his arm around me or gets possessive when I’m talking to other guys. He’d never tell me not to but I know it kind of bugs him. And, well, sometimes I’m not all that mature and I do it just to bug him. I know that’s kind of lame and that as like the hero of this book or whatever I’m supposed to be likeable and all that, but I’m just being honest. We all do dumb shit—don’t act like you’ve never done anything childish to get attention or inflate your ego. But that’s beside the point. Basically, I’ve got something going with Bram and he called before I had even dropped my bag on the floor of the room.
He was sweet and calling to make sure that we got there okay and to tell me that he missed me already. I told him that I missed him too even though I really didn’t. I mean, it’s not like I don’t care about him, but I saw him last night for Christ’s sake. It’s like one of those automatic things that I feel like you have to say back to someone or else you seem like a dick. So we talked for a little while about work and then about music and the new Rufus Wainwright disc that he’d just gotten that I recommended after ordering it on iTunes. He didn’t like the disc as much as the two earlier ones, but he said it was growing on him. Music was always a tense topic between us so I was glad he didn’t start in on how much he hated the album. Then he told me his plans for the weekend and shit and then just before we were going to hang up he said, “Now be a good boy.”
“Why on earth would I do that?” I asked, half kidding, half not.
“Because I’m sure all those repressed college boys who never had you back then are going to pounce on you.”
“Umm—” I didn’t know what to say to that other than, “I fucking hope so!”
“Alex…” he said pleadingly.
“What?” I asked, playing innocent even though I knew what he was driving at. But now, on the threshold of a college reunion, was not really the right time to talk to me about monogamy. Not that I ever wanted to have that conversation with him—at least not anytime soon—but it was kind of uncool to hint at it now. So I made him either spit it out or give it up.
He gave it up. “Nothing,” he said. “Just have fun and be careful.”
“I will.”
“Okay. Well, I miss you. Bye.”
“Bye,” I said.
Alarm bells were ringing really softly in the back of my head.
8
The Page Numbers Are Done
So I was listening to Steven Wright, the comedian, the other night while I wasn’t working on this book. And he said, “I’m writing a book. I have the page numbers done, now I just have to fill in the rest.”
It’s like being inside the tightest, softest ass of the hardest, hottest guy and not being able to cum. It’s like you should be able to, you do it all the time, and this is definitely a hot situation. But it’s just not rising up your shaft. What the fuck is wrong with you? Why can’t you blow this load?
So now I finally understand writer’s block. This book probably would’ve been out sooner but it’s not that easy to write a whole book. And it’s not like writing my blog; like with the book I have to actually be good. People have to want to read all—or at least most—of it and I have to hold their interest and shit. The pressure is intense. Talk about performance anxiety….
9
Black
Sometimes being in our group of friends was like a blood sport. Back in college we were ruthless people. We all loved each other but there was just something a little challenging in all of our relationships. Your best friend could turn against you on a dime. And it’s not like they would really want to hurt you; it was almost like a one-upmanship kind of thing. Or it was just trying to save face. We weren’t an easy group of people to befriend. Or at least we didn’t used to be. We’ve all so mellowed over the years, matured and all, but back in the day we could tear each other apart like no one’s business. All out of love, of course.
Case in point. When we were driving over to campus from the hotel, Lizzie just happened to advance the CD changer from the steering wheel so I didn’t notice anything and all of a sudden on came the slit-my-wrists song that I had with Jack just after college. As I mentioned, Jack was the one love of my life who broke my heart and then stomped its shattered pieces into dust; the guy who ruined me for other relationships. The song was like my favorite college song and Lizzie and I used to drive around the lake and listen to it over and over again whenever things
