Page 20 of Dear Mr. Brody

Parker

I had about an hour’s worth of math homework to finish, but instead of being responsible, I was stretched out on my bed, fucking around on a dating app. It was rare to find anything more than an opportunity to hook up on Pegasus, and maybe that’s all this guy wanted, but I had to admit I was intrigued.The Lost Boyswas more of a cult classic, it wasn’t a popular book, by any means, unless you were a book junkie, queer or not. Avoiding the tedium of statistics, I’d hopped onto the app, not really thinking I’d find anyone interesting to help me procrastinate. I’d scrolled through the new local members list and was beyond stoked when I’d come across his username. Peter Pan’s shadow showed up in most adaptations of the original story. The guy very well could’ve been referencing any one of them, but I’d taken a chance, and I was glad I did. Unfortunately, there wasn’t much on his profile, and if I banked on my past experience, the odds were he’d end up being an asshole. I checked out his info again anyway while I waited, or rather hoped for a response to my last message.

His profile picture was a grainy shot of a shadow on a white wall, which heightened my interest. It stood out in a sea of abs and skin. I wanted to know if he’d taken the picture himself, or if he’d found it online somewhere. His bio was about as informative as his picture. He was thirty-three, lived in the Atlanta area, and identified as bi-sexual/questioning. The questioning part made me hesitate. I wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, but I’d served enough time in the closet, and had no intention of going back in. I scrolled down to his interests and laughed out loud.Introverted bookish waffle aficionado.I checked the time, and it’d been ten minutes since I’d sent my last message. Bummed, I tossed my phone onto the mattress, and with a loud, pathetic sigh, dragged my laptop onto my thighs. I’d gotten through maybe four problems when Marcos let himself into my room.

“God… you’re doing homework again, aren’t you?” He scratched at his bare stomach as he walked across my room without invitation and plopped down onto my bed. “I’m bored. Entertain me.”

“Let me get this shit done first.” I shoved his hip with my foot.

“Hey… that kind of hurt, dick.”

Marcos flicked my big toe with his finger.

“I feel like I have to tell you this at least twice a day. The more you bother me, the longer it will take,” I said and smiled when he tried to flick my toe even harder. “I swear, you’re like a little kid sometimes.”

“I’m young at heart. When you’re old with saggy balls, you’ll be grateful for my immature spirit.” He pulled off my sock and threw it at me. “Gross, you need a pedicure…” His eyes widened as I lifted my sock from my chest and started to put it back on. “What are you doing tomorrow morning?”

“Not getting a pedicure.” I laughed when he narrowed his eyes. “I have to work, and then I have my stats class.”

“I told you not to take Friday classes.”

“I want to graduate sometime this century.”

“You know… every once in a while, I think about quitting,” he said, lowering his eyes to his lap. He fidgeted with the string on his sweatpants and exhaled a heavy breath. “I’m never going to graduate… I should have picked a different major. Something to fall back on.”

“Come on, man, you can’t quit. You’ve already put in the work. You’d be good at anything you decided on.”

“I like retail,” he said. “I like clothes. I can’t get a degree in shopping.”

“Shopping, no… but business, yes. Open your own shop. Or be a designer like you’ve always wanted. Marcos, there’s tons of shit you could do. You should talk to an academic advisor if you’re worried.”

He chewed on his thumbnail, my least favorite of his nervous habits. I lightly pushed him with my foot again and he dropped his hand. “Sorry, I know, it’s gross, blah blah blah… it’s how I cope, deal with it.”

“Chew away, but don’t lecture me about pedicures…”

I smiled when he rolled his eyes.

“I’ll talk to an advisor… and I willneverstop lecturing you about pedicures. No guy wants to feel your nasty, calloused feet on their ass when they’re fucking you.”

“Good thing I’d rather top.”

Marcos scooted off the bed and stood, his hands on his hips. “You’re missing out… that’s all I’m going to say.”

With Marcos it was never “that’s all I’m going to say.” He could nag a motherfucker until the sun came up.

“Can I do my homework now?”

“I’ll allow it. I’ll be out in the living room, not being a boring ass bitch.”

I laughed hard enough my stomach ached as he shut my bedroom door. Christ, he was something else. A lot of our friends said we were like an old married couple. And I supposed they were right. But even if I was into him like that, I’d never do anything about it. We would probably end up killing each other if we were a real couple, and then I’d be out one hell of a best friend.

Totally distracted, I couldn’t seem to get through the last few problems on my homework. I hadn’t been blessed by the math gods like my older sister had. She loved math so much she’d decided to teach it. Too bad she lived in Arkansas. I grabbed my phone, hoping she might still be awake, and smiled at the message I’d missed.

@MeAndMyShadow33: Thank God. The unsolicited dick pics are a little unnerving.

@TheL0stB0y: But the solicited ones are okay?

@MeAndMyShadow33: I’m not sure. I’ve never asked for one.

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