“Or you and Vince.”
“Yeah, it’s genetic, I think. But Darren cares about you, Sandy. I know he does.”
Resolve… weakening. “He’s a bit of a dick,” I said, flailing for something.
Paul rolled his eyes. “Well it’s a good thing you’re a bottom, because you’re an asshole, so the two of you fit together just fine.”
“Wow,” I said. “That was a thing of beauty.”
Paul looked rather pleased with himself. “Thank you. Wordplay is just like foreplay. You have to just ease into it a little—”
“Yeah, you’re losing me now.”
“Right. So. No shoes are dropping. Darren thinks you’re super cool.”
“Great, so now we’re twelve.”
“Sandy.”
“Yeah, sorry. Deflecting is like a reflex.”
“Get angry!”
“Whoa there. That’s why I’m in therapy so I don’t do that anymore.”
“Sandy!”
“Fine! Grr. I’m angry.”
“You don’t look angry.”
I bared my teeth.
“Okay, that’s a little better. Are you going to let that twink trash hit on your man?”
“No.”
“I can’t hear you!”
“No!”
“What are you going to do!”
“I’m not going to let him hit on my man!”
“And how are you gonna do that?”
“I’m gonna march right out there and give him a piece of my mind!”
“Damn right! And then what’re you gonna do?”
“And then I’m going to murder the twink trash and bury his body in a shallow grave in the desert where the coyotes and javelinas will eventually get to it and pick it clean and maybe his sun-bleached bones will be discovered like, ten years from now, but it won’t matter because all physical evidence will have dissipated in the summer sun and the monsoon rains! I will have gotten away with it. It’s the perfect goddamn crime and it begins this night.”
“Holy shit,” Paul breathed. “I was going to say just kiss Darren or something. Dude. That was dark. You’re dark.”
“Kiss him?” I screeched. “Why the hell would I kiss him?”
“Why wouldn’t you?” Paul asked, confused. “He’s your boyfriend.”