Me: WHAT?!?!? DARREN!!!
Darren: I agree. It’ll be… quieter, that’s for sure
Me: ARE YOU TRYING TO KILL ME!!!!!
Darren: You’ll be fine. Good night ;-)
Me: WINKIE FACE?????
Me: YOU THINK YOU CAN MAKE THIS BETTER WITH WINKIE FACE????
Me: DARREN!!!!!!!!
Me: I’M CALLING YOU. YOU BETTER ANSWER
Me: WHY IS YOUR FUCKING PHONE TURNED OFF
Me: DARREN
Me: DARREN!!!!!!!!!!!!!
Me: YOU MOTHERFUCKER
“REMEMBER LAST night when I held you in my arms and told you everything was going to be all right?” I asked Corey as he continued to laugh at me. “I take it all back. Stop fucking laughing!”
“This is amazing,” he said, wiping his eyes. “You’re nervous.”
“Bullshit! I don’t get nervous!”
Which, sure. That was a lie. Because here I stood, in my closet, getting slightly shrieky as I riffled through everything I owned, trying to find something to wear that said to Darren’s mother that I was respectable, that I had never thought of her son naked, and that Darren and I were completely and one hundred percent in love with each other, so much so that we had stars in our eyes and rainbows falling out of our asses. I couldn’t do that in paisley and why the fucking hell did I own so much paisley?
“Maybe you should just—”
“If the next words out of your mouth are anything but how to fix this, I swear to god I’ll punch you in the dick.”
Corey rolled his eyes and pushed his way into the closet. “Black dress slacks.” He pointed at a pair on a hanger. “Light blue dress shirt. Dark blue tie.”
I gaped at him. “You perform miracles.”
“I’ve been known to,” he said. “Now, hurry up. They’ll be here soon. I’m going to head out and pick up Charlie before heading over. Do you need anything before I go?”
“No,” I said with a sniff. “I’m fine. I’m perfectly capable of acting like a functional adult.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.” He patted me on the shoulder. “I’ll see you over there, yeah?”
“Tell everyone they need to be on their best behavior,” I called after him as he left the room. “I’m serious. They can’t do anything to embarrass me!”
“Yeah,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll make sure I get right on that. Best behavior and all that.”
“This is going to be a disaster,” I muttered as I pulled the slacks off the hanger.
I’d barely finished tying my tie when the doorbell rang at a quarter till one. I glared up at the ceiling, because Darren was a fucking liar who showed up early, and no self-respecting gay man ever showed up early. Which meant either he was not a self-respecting gay man, or (and more likely) he was trying to fuck with me and throw me off because he was an asshole.
I frantically gave myself a once-over in the hallway mirror, sure his mom was going to see my wide eyes and flushed appearance and assume I was hooked on the bathroom crack, just like Darren had asked me after meeting his father. When one sees they look like they do bathroom crack, it’s hard for one to think of anything else.
“I don’t look like I do bathroom crack,” I muttered to myself as I approached the door. “I don’t look like I do bathroom crack. I don’t look like I do—” I opened the door with the most perfectly fixed smile on my face that showed I was absolutely not a bathroom crack addict. “Hiiiii. It’s so nice to see you. Welcome to my home. Please, come in! Come in. How lovely all this is. Wonderful. Just wonderful.”
Darren, that motherfucker, knew exactly what my bathroom crack face meant, and I glared at him for a split second, making sure he understood that his death was imminent. Either I wasn’t as intimidating as I thought I was or he’d gotten used to being threatened by me; neither scenario boded well for our future. There would need to be a course correction, and soon.