Wrangled

“Oh, uh, let’s see. Everything?? He’s touchy sometimes. He isn’t a fan of Drag Race. He doesn’t like my cooking and hates gay bars. Okay, maybe he isn’t an immature asshole anymore like he was to you, and maybe his gift-giving game is a little off, but …”

“Maybe you’re just having cold feet?”

“Isn’t this too soon for cold feet? Lance, I just look at him from time to time, and I think about all those things you said about him when you and I first became friends … It was devastating to hear all about. I couldn’t imagine being with someone like that. And yet here I am now, with that guy you described, that guy I consoled you for having dated, and …” Sal is out of breath. He takes another. “I just find myself left with one very simple question.”

I stop at a corner and fold an arm over my chest. “Yeah? What is it? What’s the question?”

“Can people really, truly change?”

I watch the crosswalks shift, stopping vehicles one way and letting pedestrians cross, while the other road blazes on with fast-moving cars and engine-roaring busses. Crowds of people move around me, women and men and noisy teens, laughing.

In all that chaos, I hear Chad laughing.

I hear myself laughing.

I hear bed sheets crinkle and slither as our bodies roll across it and our legs entwine.

I hear the smacking of our lips as we kiss, and a giggle coming out of one of us, interrupting it.

His fierce blue eyes, committed to me, wanting me, as loyal to me as a dog to his master.

Chad, my loyal dog, grunting and growling and barking at the mailman in my honor.

Amidst all the chaos on the street, a soft smile finds my face. “Yeah.”

“Yeah?” Sal sounds exasperated. “What do you mean ‘yeah’?”

“Yes, people can change. People do. Chad did.”

“But it doesn’t erase what Chad was,” Sal starts to say.

“No more than you—or I—can forget what Richie was. But …” I resume walking, this time slower, lighter in my steps, ponderous. “I think we’re so quick to demonize people who hurt us, and never let them move on. We put the weight of our enemies’ pasts on top of them, and we make it so heavy, they have no chance of standing again. Where’s our role in the betterment of humanity if we can’t also learn to stop blaming them, to encourage their better parts, and to leave the world a cleaner place than we found it?”

“Is this about your apartment, or are we still talking about—?”

I laugh. “Yeah, I probably should have led with that. Thank you for treating my place so nicely, Salvador. Especially after the crap I said to you.”

“Well, I think I reacted so badly to it because … it’s true.” He lets out a deep, relaxed sigh. “And I think you’re right. People do change. And maybe that’s exactly what I need to do, too, Lance. I need to change. I need to use my own figurative legs, because if I keep relying on yours, I’ll never learn to walk on my own. Oh my God!” he cries out suddenly. “Here I am, whining about me, and it’s your big day! How did your show go?? Tell me you killed it!”

I stop in front of the building doors where the reception is being held. “It went alright,” I say with a coy smile.

“Yeah,” Sal decides. “You killed it, Mr. Modest. Are we going to be famous now? Can I model your first post-famous look, pretty please? I’ll post it all over my Insta. You’ll make headlines. You’ll get called by Ellen.”

“Are you feeling better about Richie?” I ask as I lean against the wall, stepping out of the way of the sidewalk traffic.

“Oh.” He sounds like he nearly forgot what he called about in the first place. “Well, I guess I’ll try to look at it your way.”

“People can change.”

“People can change,” he agrees, then lets out a long, wistful sigh. “I wish I’d gone to my high school reunion now. You’d made me feel so nostalgic that week you were away.”

I smile. It feels good to have my friend back, especially right now—if he was ever truly gone. “No need. The only reason I went was because I was looking for something. You’ve got what you were looking for right in front of you in Richie. And I’m proud of you two.”

“Are you?” I hear the smile in Salvador’s voice. “That’s so big of you to say. I don’t think you’ve said that once since we started dating. I always thought you secretly hated me, even though you said you were fine with it.”

“I guess people can change,” I admit, still smiling. “Even me.”

“And me.” He hesitates. “Well, eventually.”

I laugh at that. The way my hand holds the phone, it feels like a hug from my palm. I’m so happy we’re talking again. “Thanks for being my friend, Salvador. Truly.” I glance at the door. “Well, I’ve made it to the reception now, so I should probably go inside, shake some hands, and kiss a few asses.”