“Hanging around for MLK weekend?” Ben asked.
“Don’t I always?” Geno said.
“I’m hanging around too. So is Natasha.”
“What, it’s on?”
Ben grinned like one who was getting spectacularly laid. “Guess where her new piercing is?”
Geno held up a palm. “Pass.”
“Anyway, remember my buddy Jason, you met him on Thanksgiving? He’s got a new apartment on the Upper East Side. He’s having a housewarming thing. Want to come?”
Geno didn’t, but he didn’t want to sit in the empty dorm on a Saturday night either. He took a Xanax, slipped two Valium into his jeans pocket as backup and went along.
Jason’s one-bedroom apartment was crammed tight with Broadway hopefuls. Dancers, chorus boys, musicians. Geno couldn’t pick up a hammer to join in the shop talk, so he kept to the perimeter of the open room. Back to the wall, he moved toward the kitchen, where Jason was performing at the little island, plating up appetizer after appetizer.
“Mo, baby, what’s going on?” he called over the crush. “Get your ass over here, I need a slave.”
Grateful, Geno slipped behind the barrier of stove and sink. Like a surgical nurse, he handed Jason what was needed and cleared away what wasn’t, noticing Jason seemed perfectly happy to stay put, provide food and let people come to him.
“Mo, I was kidding about the slave thing,” Jason said. “Go mingle if you want.”
“I’m not a mingler,” Geno said, washing up some pots and pans.
“I hear you. I like a wall between me and the crowd.”
Geno looked over his shoulder. “You get up in front of crowds for a living.”
Jason looked back as well, grinning. “Ever hear of the fourth wall?”
Lounging on the other side of the island, Seth was telling Ben and Natasha about riding Kingda Ka, the world’s tallest roller coaster at Six Flags.
“Four hundred and fifty-six feet,” he said. “Straight down.”
“Straight up, no thank you,” Natasha said, shuddering.
“You must’ve been shitting your pants at the top,” Ben said.
“Worse,” Seth said. “I was so scared, I had a fucking erection.”
Natasha screeched a laugh and Jason pointed a wooden spoon at his boyfriend. “I don’t believe you said that,” he said.
“What?”
“I sport wood all the time on roller coasters. I thought it was just me.”
“I get a boner at horror movies,” Ben said. “And it’s not because I’m turned on.”
Natasha leaned on her elbow, looking thoughtful. “Maybe fear is a different kind of arousal.”
A chill touched the back of Geno’s neck.
“Nah,” Seth said around a mouthful. “It’s fight or flight. All the blood’s going to your muscles.”
Jason snorted. “Like your dick is useful in a fight.”
“Your body’s not choosy,” Seth said. “It’s all hands on deck.”
“All hands on dick?”
“You wish.”
Geno crossed his arms tight and suppressed a shiver, listening to the blithe, casual banter. Suffused with a weary jealousy. He’d never be able to joke about boners and hands on dicks this way. Sex would always be a thing with him. A thing to guard or hide or lie about. Even in seven years time, when his cells replaced themselves and he’d be, in essence, a new man, he wouldn’t be a normal one. Ever again.
He pressed his teeth hard, refusing to let them chatter.
I just want to be a regular guy.
Who knew being average could be so enviable?
They left Jason’s apartment around ten and hit a bar on Third Avenue called The Study.
Not a good idea, Mos said as he got a look at the loud crowd within.
It’s fine, Geno thought. I’ll practice situational awareness.
Mos dug in his heels. Not good.
It’ll be fine.
“You okay, Mo?” Ben said.
“Would you mind if we stood near the door?”
“Why?”
“I like it near the door.”
“Same here,” Jason said. “I don’t walk into a place unless I know how I can get out.”
“Because you’re famous?” Geno asked.
“Because I’m gay.”
Geno blinked at him. Jason’s smile was wide above an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders. “I mean, come on,” he said. “I’m basically wearing a sign that says, Start some shit with me and prove you’re a man. Believe me, I know where the fucking exits are. Right?”
“Right.”
“Come on, Mo, let’s carve out some territory.” The side of Jason’s fist lightly struck Geno’s upper arm as he headed toward the bar. He staked out one corner, planted himself on a stool and held court there the entire night. People of all persuasions came to pay homage, while Geno stood by like a bodyguard and nursed a single beer.
“You cool?” Ben asked occasionally.
“Yeah,” Geno said each time. It was the truth and it took him by surprise. Standing with his back to the bar, the door within view, nobody touching him, relaxed and situationally aware, Geno did feel cool. His do-not-disturb aura was being respected. Any gazes in his direction were weightlessly curious and without intention. He was a normal, somewhat shy guy out having a beer. Present and invisible at the same time.
“Hey.” Jason leaned close to be heard over the music. “What’s Mo short for?”
Geno felt so good, he could flirt with the answer. “Take a guess.”
“Maurice.”
“No.”
“Morris,” Seth said.
Geno gave him a side eye.
“Mohammed?” Jason said.
Geno pointed the bottle at him. “Yes.”
“Really?”
“No.”
Jason laughed and socked Geno’s shoulder. “Come on, what is it?”
“Geronimo.”
“Shut the fuck up.”
“Swear to God.”
“ID, please,” Seth said.
Geno tucked his beer into an elbow and got his wallet. He slid out his driver’s license, being careful not to dislodge Carlos’.
“Geronimo. That’s fucking awesome,” Seth said. “So do you, like, jump off shit and yell your name?”
“No,” Geno said. “But I’ve made a lot of girls do it.”
A split second and then Jason, Seth and Ben howled with laughter.
“Holy shit, you’re fucking human,” Ben said.
“What?”
“Dude, I’ve never heard you make a crack about sex.”
Warm pleasure flooded Geno’s face. Happiness like a nostalgic memory curled around his chest. He was at a bar with friends. He made a joke about sex. He was just a normal guy.
How about that shit? he said to Mos.
Mos crossed his arms, uncommitted.
Oh come on, Geno cajoled, flirting with himself.
Mos sighed, relenting. We may be having a good time right now.
“Be right back,” Ben said and shouldered through the crowd. It was getting tight in here, but Geno was all right. He could see the door. His back pressed against the bar so nobody could get behind him. Everything was great. He wished he could bottle this feeling up. Compress it into pills he could swallow.
He turned his gaze down the bar, people watching. Mostly young couples. One solitary Asian girl with a martini, looking straight ahead, her expression thoughtful. Maybe even a little lonely. Geno stared, considering going over to say hi. Then his attention was caught by a girl a few stools closer to him. She was pretty.
Soap and water pretty.
“Geronimo,” Kelly Hook cried, shoving Geno over the side of the couch. A long time ago.
The girl kissed her date and ran her hand through his hair before sliding off the stool. Her date called to her, pointed at the bar, did she want another? From where he stood, Geno could see her mouth shape a reply: just a Coke.
“I’m driving,” Geno said, a long time ago. So Fox got him a Coke instead.
Geno’s gaze followed the girl through the crowd. Her date leaned back a bit on his stool to track her as well. One hand went into his jacket pocket.
The bartender set down the glass, still bubbling. A bit of froth sliding down the side.
How about a Coke instead?
Geno was suddenly and situationally aware. His focus sharpened into a pinpoint beam, the rest of the bar shuttered out and silenced. His tongue pressed the roof of his mouth, remembering the sweet, carbonated taste of betrayal.
The date drew the glass of soda closer, his other hand still in his pocket.
Can we go? Carlito, come on, let’s go.
Go.
The guy’s hand came out of his pocket and hovered quickly over the glass, fingers moving like a magician’s diversionary tactic.
“What’s happening?” Geno said, realizing something was in the soda, but now the walls were giggling. Fox’s ear was inside-out and weird and Geno shouldn’t laugh at it but he couldn’t help it.
“You should lie down.”
Go.
We need to go.
This is against the law.
Geno’s eyes flicked up. Another pair of eyes met his gaze. From her stool at the bar, the lone Asian girl looked at him, her eyes wide and hard against Geno’s. They stared in a silent commune.
Did he just…?
Did you see…?
Go, Mos yelled and the stars echoed him in a battle cry of rage. Go go go go go go…
A shattering of glass as Geno’s beer dropped to the floor.
“Mo, what the fuck?” Jason called as Geno strode down the bar, his back undefended and his hands on the offense. He seized two fists of the date’s jacket and hauled him back off the stool.
“The hell did you do,” he yelled, his voice slicing through the high-pitched cries of girls and the lower shouts of boys. The bar split apart with a crackling energy. Both bartenders whipped around fast as the date’s arms windmilled, his feet sliding for purchase on the wet floor.
“What did you put in there?” Geno said, fists tightening as the crowd pulled back from him.
“Crazy son of a bitch” the date yelled. “Get the fuck off me.”
“Hey,” one of the bartenders shouted.
“He put something in her drink,” Geno shouted back.
“I saw it,” the Asian girl said. She’d made her way down the bar and slammed her palm on top of the glass of Coke. “I saw him do it. We both saw.”
“The fuck is wrong with you?” Geno cried. The date was trying to slide his arms from the jacket and get away. Geno quickly got one arm, then the other hooked through the guy’s elbows, pinning his arms behind, his whole back against Geno’s chest.
“What were you going to do,” he said through the wall of his teeth. “Fuck her unconscious? Was that the plan? How about I fuck you, huh? How about I knock you out and get a few buddies to rape your ass into shreds? See how you like it?”
The music stopped and the lights came on. The crowd cringed like vampires at dawn. Two bouncers had shouldered their way into the fray. A short shouting match between the date proclaiming his innocence, and Geno and the Asian girl insisting on what they’d seen. One of the bouncers thrust his hand into the date’s jacket pocket and came out with a pair of tiny plastic bags. One crumpled, the other filled with a white powder.
It got surreal after that. The date was pried out of Geno’s grip and taken…somewhere. Once he was gone, Geno’s tunnel focus turned on the girl returning from the ladies’ room, looking bewildered. Geno seized her shoulders. Harder than he should have but he was pissed.
“Your date tried to drug you,” he said.
She twisted in his hands, eyes wild. “What?”
“He put something in your soda.”
“He…what?”
“How long have you known him?”
Tears sprang to her eyes. She was so lovely. Like a bar of Ivory soap, so pretty and clean and unaware of how close the fox was to her henhouse.
“We just met tonight,” she said.
“Oh my God,” Geno said, voice tight in his throat. “You can’t. You can’t do that. You can’t ever leave your drink with a guy you don’t know. You can’t.” He was shaking her a little. Just a little and he didn’t mean to but he was so angry.
“Mo, take it easy.” Ben was beside him. Ben, who made Geno tell jokes tonight while a predator was out looking for innocent chicks.
“You have to be careful,” Geno cried, getting in the girl’s face. “Don’t ever leave your drink behind with a guy. I don’t care who he is, first date or seventh date, don’t ever leave your drink alone with him.”
“It’s all right,” Ben said.
“It’s not all right,” Geno said.
“Dude, it’s okay. You stopped it.”
Jason came to Geno’s other side. He slid a protective arm around the girl and put his palm on Geno’s arm. “It’s okay,” he said. “Don’t scare her more. Everyone’s upset and shook up. Come on, man, it’s all right. You did good.”
Geno’s focus widened and he realized how hard his fingers were clamped in the girl’s flesh. He let go, horrified. He’d broken the rules. “I’m sorry. I…”
“Thank you,” she said, tears dripping from her eyes. “You saved my life.”
Your daddy isn’t coming to save you. Your brother waited until Daddy was across the ocean. He brought you to me.
All because Geno hadn’t been situationally aware. He drank from an unattended glass.
I think I should take over, Mos said.
You should, Geno thought.
This is all happening to someone else.
Thank you.
“Thank you,” the girl said. “I can’t thank you enough.”
You can go now, Mos said. I got this.