Taylor lay there under his plush golden bedspread wondering how long it would take the oxygen under there to run out. He didn’t want to suffocate, he just didn’t want to be conscious any more. Passing out would be more than sufficient, he decided as he tried his hardest to calm his breathing while clutching Mr. Spanky tight to his chest. He’d only ever had one in his life, but he swore to himself that he would never again forget what it felt like to have a panic attack. The last one had been mid-tour about seven years prior and it had scared the shit out of him so badly that he had ingrained the experience in his brain to quell off any future attacks. So there he lay, sweating palms, short hitching breaths and all trying his hardest to think of anything but gay clubs, kisses with best friends, or the pie that was most likely charring and seconds away from burning his condo to the ground.
Once his breathing had returned to a more healthy frequency and depth and his grip on Mr. Spanky had lessened, he pushed the covers back slowly, gradually acclimating himself back into the real world. A look at the clock showed him that he’d been under there for well over a half hour, trying to do anything but think of Flannery’s words. What did he care if Tre had feelings for him? It didn’t change anything. It didn’t make him want to be with Tre, and it certainly didn’t make him want to kiss him again. Sure, the kiss hadn’t been bad, it was just the fact that it shouldn’t have happened with Tre. The only thing it had done was make him even more confused and he couldn’t help but wonder if he would have even had the guts to do it with someone else. Had he only wanted to kiss Tre because he knew he still wasn’t immersing himself in the gay culture and was instead continuing to cling to Tre as his only link? His first night at Xcape, he’d only wanted to sit at the bar and drink where Tre was bartending and his second night, once he’d found Tre, he’d made no further efforts to meet anyone else, talk to anyone else, kiss anyone else. It was like Tre was his set of training wheels and Taylor couldn’t help but come to the solution that if he really thought he was gay or that he was really confused, that he would have been trying harder. He’d become much too dependent on Adrian at first and now on Tre and he knew that it needed to end. The fact that he’d gotten a hard-on from watching Queer as Folk and that he hadn’t disliked kissing a good friend when drunk failed to prove anything other than that it had in fact been just another whim to add to his already colorful collection.
Taylor climbed gingerly out of bed, his heart still thudding harder than usual in his chest due to his episode, and headed for the kitchen. He found that Flannery had taken the pie from the oven and left it sitting half baked on the counter. He couldn’t help but associate himself with the pie. As happy as it made him feel to be done with the whole situation, he also felt like he’d only given it a half-assed effort, just like the pie had only been given the chance to bake halfway. With a sigh, he dropped the unfinished dessert into the garbage can and started to clean up the hideous mess he’d made in his typically pristine kitchen.
Once the counters were cleaned and all of the extra ingredients had been put away in their proper places, Taylor headed for the living room. A quick scan through the digital cable line-up led him right to the Pay-Per-View section where he purchased the first hetero porn he could find. It gave him much more pleasure than sexual gratification to jerk off to the sights before him, as if it proved somehow that he was indeed justified in calling off his little personal investigation. In his mind, if he could still get off to girls, then what had he been wasting his time doing?
His hand was still down his boxer briefs, eyes half closed as the final tremors of his orgasm coursed through him when his cell phone started to ring on the table beside him. With his free hand, he grabbed it and flipped it open with his thumb, jamming it in the crook of his neck before snatching the remote to mute the unnecessarily overdone moaning of the girls on the screen.
“Are you mad at me?” Flannery asked before Taylor even had time to greet her. He sighed and dropped his head back against the soft leather of his recliner, still not bothering to move his hand.
“No, I’m not mad at you. I should actually be thanking you. Getting temporarily pissed at you made me go really think about the situation. I’ve been being ridiculous, Flannery. I haven’t been taking this seriously, and frankly I haven’t had the desire to do more than I’ve been doing. Everything has felt like way too much too fast, and I think that I have to take that as a sign. If it was right, if I was really gay, I think that it wouldn’t have felt like that,” he explained.
“You don’t know that, Taylor. I think you’re giving up on this way too early. You’ve hardly even dipped your toes in the water yet!”
“And I have no intentions of doing a cannonball, so just let it go, okay?” he asked, outwardly groaning at the horribly dorky response he’d just given.
“You’re making a mistake, Taylor,” she told him matter-of-factly.
“Maybe I am. It really doesn’t matter, though. It’s my life and I’m taking it back. It hasn’t been mine for the entire course of this misadventure and I’m sick of it. If I need other people to help me through, then it’s apparently not the right path to have chosen.”
“How can you possible know that? Do not quit this just because it’s hard, Taylor. That’s completely chicken shit!”
“I don’t care, Flannery. It’s my life. It’s my decision, and I’m done,” he said defiantly. He knew that he was getting too defensive, but didn’t care anymore. Flannery sighed loudly into the phone.
“Taylor…”
“Just don’t. I don’t need it, Flannery,” he told her. A strained silence lingered over the line for far longer that Taylor would have liked, but instead of giving in and saying something to appease her, he just kept his mouth shut and waited for her next move.
“Jacob and I are going out to dinner tonight. Would you please come with us?” she asked stiffly.
“Where the hell did that come from?” he asked, unable to help himself.
“That was one of the two reasons why I called you. We’re going to Finnigan’s and I’d really like it if you’d come along. It’s been a long time since the three of us hung out,” she said, obviously pretending as if the entire first part of the conversation hadn’t taken place. Now it was Taylor’s turn to sigh. He couldn’t stand Jacob. It wasn’t that he was a bad guy or that he treated Flannery poorly, it was just that Taylor found him to be an incredibly big douche most of the time and generally thought that his time was better spent as far away from him as possible. The fact that Flannery was unaware of Taylor’s distaste for her boyfriend led to occasional get-togethers that Taylor fought his way through for her sake.
“Fine. What time?” he asked.
“Seven. Does that work for you?”
“Yeah, I think I can fit it in,” Taylor said, watching as the girl on the screen managed to contort herself into some kind of yoga-like position. He couldn’t help it as his head cocked to the side as he tried to make sense of exactly what was about to happen on the screen, then he found himself rolling his eyes and shutting off the TV as he figured it out. Gingerly, he climbed out of the plush leather recliner and made his way to the bathroom, mostly ignoring Flannery as she started back in nagging him some more about his decision to give up his quest.
“I just think you’re making a real mistake,” she said again.
“We’re not talking about this tonight at dinner and we’re not talking about it now either. I need to take a shower, so I’ll just see you later, okay?” he asked, shaking his head slightly at her curt good-bye. His shower was prolonged as he took several minutes under the steaming spray to ponder the fact that he had just willingly turned off a porno, something he’d never done in the many years since seeing his first one. He’d gotten curious and ordered one on Pay Per View when he was fourteen on tour, too naïve to realize that it would go on the bill for his room. Thankfully, his dad had only sat him down and talked to him about it in private, opting not to tell Taylor’s mom and instead telling him to just never do it again, which he hadn’t. Once his moment of pondering was complete, he toweled off, dressed casually, and dropped himself back into his recliner to watch mindless television until he had to leave.
Seven o’clock rolled around much too quickly and Taylor found himself entering Finnigan’s trying to look as happy to be there as he could manage. Two things were keeping him from going in with a positive attitude, the first being that Jacob was to be in attendance and the second being that there was always the possibility of Isaac or Zac being there. It was basically they only place those two ever chose to go out to eat, something that baffled Taylor. He loved Finnigan’s as much as they did, but could also admit that while their loaded fries were to die for, most of the rest of their food was average at best. But, it was comfortable to them, so that was where they always went. A quick scan around the restaurant showed Taylor that his brothers weren’t there and also that Flannery and Jacob were already seated in Tatum’s usual section in the back of the restaurant. He tried to make his way over to them as quickly as possible without being spotted by Tatum. He knew that he would obviously have to deal with her eventually, but she was always much less brazen when other people were around and therefore he wouldn’t have to be privy to too much of her slutiness.
“Hey Taylor!” Flannery greeted cheerily. Taylor gave her his best interpretation of a forced smile and slid in the booth across from the couple.
“How’s it going, bro?” Jacob asked, causing Taylor to inwardly gag. He’d always been repulsed by grown men who insisted on talking to each other like thirteen-year-old wannabe thugs. Again, he tried to smile politely and grabbed at the menu sitting at the end of the table.
“How are you two tonight?” he asked as he pretended to peruse the selection. He’d known what he was ordering before he even walked in, but found that the menu was serving quite well as a shield from them, giving him at least a few minutes to mentally prepare, both for the meal and for Tatum.
“Pretty good. Better than you, I think. You look like shit, man!” Jacob teased, sending Taylor a genuine smile. As much as he wanted to just laugh off Jacob’s comment like he would if any of this real friends said it, all he really wanted to do was punch him in the face. But, as he looked over at Flannery and saw her smiling at him so genuinely, he had to force himself to fake it.
“Don’t I know it. It was a rough tour,” Taylor said, knowing better than to think that Jacob would know the real reason for his less than stellar appearance. Flannery would never reveal something that personal to Jacob without talking to Taylor about it first. Even if it was the hardest thing Flannery had ever had to deal with, which he knew it wasn’t, he knew that she wouldn’t tell Jacob unless it was imperative that he know. And it was not imperative, especially now. As he sat there and made small talk with them, he couldn’t help but pay attention to the nagging feeling pulling somewhere behind his belly button. He couldn’t place it precisely, but he knew that something was bothering him; something that he wasn’t even consciously aware of yet.
He saw Tatum spot him and fix her hair in one of the decorative mirrors placed sporadically throughout the restaurant amongst the other cluttered decorations, before heading over to their booth.
“Well hey there, stranger,” she said to him, leaning up against the outside of his side of the booth and sticking her chest slightly in his direction, he noticed. He couldn’t help but notice. She was showing so much cleavage, she probably wouldn’t have to worry about paying rent for the next two months with how much she’d be making in tips from the horny married men who frequented the bar section of the restaurant. “What can I do you for?” Taylor wanted to respond with “For a prescription of penicillin” but instead plastered on a smile for what felt like the millionth time that night and ordered.
“My usual please, a double,” he told her. She winked in his direction before heading for the bar.
“She’s such a whore,” Flannery frowned after her, “Will she ever give up?”
“Not until Taylor gives it up,” Jacob said. Taylor just nodded weakly and leaned back until his head rested against the wooden back of the booth. He knew that Jacob was right, as much as it pained him to admit it. Tatum and her obvious attempts at flirtation would never stop. They wouldn’t stop if he was in a relationship and they certainly wouldn’t stop if she was in a relationship, so all he could hope for was that she would get another job or move far away from Tulsa where he never had to watch her undress him with her eyes again. It made him feel cheap and used and slightly horny which only made him more annoyed. There was no denying the fact that Tatum was completely hot and had an absolute killer body. If she didn’t constantly reek of sluttiness, Taylor probably would have been interested a long time ago.
“Here you go,” Tatum announced, carefully setting his Jack on the rocks down in front of him, “Are you all ready to order?” Once they had all told her what they wanted and Taylor sat back in his chair close to giddiness at the knowledge that a massive plate of French fries covered with cheddar cheese, bacon, and ranch dressing was being prepared just for him back in the kitchen, Jacob excused himself to go to the bathroom.
“How are you really?” Flannery asked in a hushed voice.
“I thought I said we weren’t talking about this,” Taylor sighed, finishing the last of his drink and rather enjoying the fact that he was already feeling quite buzzed. He hadn’t really eaten anything all day except for little bites of pie crust and the alcohol was going straight through his system. He knew that he’d taken on some near alcoholic behaviors of late, but just credited it to the very confusing state he’d been living in and justified it by saying that anyone in his position would be behaving the exact same way.
“Taylor! Don’t give me shit when you’re being the unreasonable one. Christ, was kissing Tre that bad?” she asked, maintaining her soft tone though he hadn’t.
“No, it wasn’t bad at all. It’s just that… I kissed Tre, not some random guy. I kissed my best friend. Shit, I’ve kissed you before when we were drunk and that doesn’t mean that I want to date you. No offense.”
“None taken. And I know what you mean, but I think it’s just ridiculous to stop all of this based on something that happened strictly by circumstance,” she paused, obviously waiting for Taylor to interject, but when he didn’t, she continued, “I mean, and be honest… if Tre hadn’t been there, would you have attempted to kiss someone else?” Taylor just looked up at her from his empty glass, wishing for once that Tatum would come over both to give him a refill and to stop the conversation from happening.
He looked at her, hesitating greatly. “Yes, I would have.”
“Then what is your deal? Don’t stop this, Taylor!” she scolded right before Jacob walked back up.
“Whoa… things look a little intense over here. Everything okay?” he asked as he got back in the booth.
“Everything’s great. We were just talking about his brothers.”
“What’s going on?” he asked curiously.
“Nothing, they’re just being douchebags like always,” Taylor explained. Jacob seemed to be okay with that answer and with that, dinner continued on. Taylor greedily devoured his entire plate, trying his hardest to ignore the fact that he was consuming more calories than he usually ate in three days. He was on his third drink and was feeling pleasantly full and well on his way to drunk when two familiar voices entered the restaurant.
“It’s my brothers, isn’t it?” he asked Flannery without even turning around. She wrinkled up her nose in disgust and nodded before sending a smile in their direction.
“Hi guys!” she said to them.
“Hi Flannery, Jacob. Oh, and our wayward brother,” Isaac said.
“And a pleasant ‘Fuck you’ to you, too!” Taylor said, tipping his imaginary hat in their direction.
“Are you guys all done eating?” Zac asked, ignoring the exchange between his brothers.
“Yeah, we were just getting ready to head out, I think,” Flannery answered.
“You’re leaving already?” Taylor asked. She nodded apologetically.
“If you’re not ready to go you could come sit with us, I guess,” Isaac said before walking away towards his own booth. Zac, ever the obedient lapdog, followed.
“Please don’t leave me here with them,” Taylor pleaded, reaching across the table to grab Flannery’s hands, “I hate them, don’t make me hang out with them.”
“One, you don’t hate them…” Flannery started.
“I could hate them…” Taylor said under his breath, effectively interrupting her as he pulled his hands back into his own lap.
“And two, you don’t have to stay,” she finished, shooting him a reproving look in the process.
“But I don’t want to go home,” Taylor whined.
“Well, drunky, we do. So I’ll talk to you tomorrow, okay?” she asked.
“Night, man!” Jacob said. Taylor just grunted in their direction before grabbing his empty glass and heading for his brothers’ table.
“Are you drunk?” Isaac asked him.
“Not quite yet, mother,” Taylor rolled his eyes, unable to think of another person in the entire world he would have wanted to be sitting at a table with less than Isaac, especially since he’d obviously already made the decision to treat Taylor like shit.
“Well, are you done with your temporary insanity or should I sign you up for the Gay Pride Parade?”
“Why do you have to be such a dick all the time? Fuck!” Taylor exclaimed.
“Just answer the question,” Isaac said dismissively, setting his menu down calmly on the table.
“It’s over. There, are you happy?”
“Are you serious?” Zac asked, finally looking up from his phone to join the conversation.
“Yeah, I haven’t called Adrian yet, but yes. Now fucking leave me alone about it,” Taylor spat. When Tatum started over for their table, he saw Zac sit up a little straighter. “You’re so pathetic.”
“Whatever, you wish you could hit that.”
“I could if I wanted to. She’s wanted my nuts for years now.”
“Yeah? Prove it,” Zac challenged, smirking at him and crossing his arms over his chest. “If you’re totally straight now and think you have so much play, then do it.” On any other day, Taylor would have immediately turned down his brother’s dare, but he had just the right combination of alcohol and need for validation that he found himself uttering the unbelievable.
“You’re on, dipshit.”