Page 37 of The Photograph

“I know you guys all have threesomes with each other …” she says.

Threesomes?Des had threesomes?But she knows this because … because she’s living there, meeting the guys that come round? And my frozen chest transforms into a bottomless pit in my stomach.Holy shit. He not only has experience, but he also hasexperience. And Des’s comment about a threesome with Dimitri floats into my head.He even told you, Alex; you just assumed it wasa long time ago.

“… So I’m sure he won’t mind me saying that, even though I’ve never met you, George isn’t his favorite.”

His favorite? Favorite what? How many people is he seeing? Is George the guy in the bathroom door or … Goddammit, I’m an idiot. He told me he didn’t do exclusive when I first met him. He’s taking it slow with me, but he doesn’t mind because he’s got other guys looking after him in ways that I don’t even begin to understand.

“Thanks, Marla. It’s been really good to talk to you, but I’ve got to dash.”

“Do you want me to tell him you rang?”

“No need. I’ll catch him at lunch tomorrow.”

“You won’t tell him I said anything about his boyfriends, will you?” Her voice wobbles.

I grimace into my phone. “Don’t worry, I won’t.”

When I hang up, I take a deep breath and head up off the street toward Fulton Street to catch the subway uptown to Nana’s place, but my hand is shaking around my phone, and when I spot a coffee place over the street, I head inside, order a flat white and sink gratefully down into a seat by the window as I watch people streaming up the street outside the window.

Whatever I’m doing with Des is not a long-term thing, is it? That’s not what Des does. And how would someone like me even be on his list? I havenoexperience. Nothing to offer here. I work in a cube analyzing companies, I live with my parents, and I can’t even call him when I’m at home.

Here I am thinking I’m being all brave and experimental, but it would all be laughable to Des, who hasthreesomes. Crush felt like a foreign land. How all those guysweretogether. I’m on the back foot with him all the time.

I pick up my phone from the table. And to my surprise, there’s a message on Grindr. My heart lifts.Des?But when I open it, a picture of a cute Hispanic guy fills the screen.

Hola! Would love to meet you for a drink tonight if you’re free!

My hand shakes. A drink. What would it be like to just meet another guy casually? Like I did that first night with Des, respond to a message, chat, go home? I’ve got a free night in town now, and I’m staying with Nana. I chew my lip as I stare out of the window.

Two guys in suits are walking past, chatting, obviously just leaving work. Suddenly, one of them throws back his head laughing, and the second one wraps his arm around his neck and kisses him on the cheek. Goddammit, why is that not me? I needexperience. Before I can overthink it, I press the speech bubble to message Mr. Hola back.

16

DES

I’m all sleeked up by the time I arrive at Ho’s: tight gray jeans, glitter on my cheekbones, and a skin-colored vest that shows off my arms and chest. Servers with no shirts and spray-on leather pants weave through the closely packed crowd, empties and exotic cocktails piled high on trays. Despite the thumping music, a shriek assaults my ears and suddenly George is in front of me, pulling me into a hug and kissing my lips, his hand reaching around to squeeze my ass. Unease slithers down my spine, and I draw back and open my mouth, but George grabs my hand and turns, dragging me farther into the bar.

Fighting our way through the crowds, we arrive at a table and Alan and Shaun look up from their phones and my heart sinks. Ugh. An evening of salacious gossip. Two unfamiliar guys sitting next to them are buffed up and glowing, and wave hello at me. The guy nearest me tracks up my body, lingering on my chest. Usually I like this kind of attention, but God, I’m an idiot. I’m already spoken for, and Alex isn’t here, so why did I dress up like this?

In fact, I know why. George has invited me to show me off rather than for my company. He always insisted I look goodwhen we went out. Was that the only reason he was with me? This is a million miles away from my quiet nights in with Alex, and my stomach bottoms out. I’m not looking for a hookup. I’d rather have a meal on my lap and be watching a thriller with Alex.

George pulls up a seat for me next to him and pats it. “I have so much to tell you!” he chirps. “My sister Aneline is pregnant and I’m going to be the godfather! Just me!” He makes jazz hands over his head. “Mom had this huge falling out with Dad about it, and, Dessy, by huge I mean …” He shakes his head like a dog with a flea in its ear, pursing his lips. “You of all people understand how weird Dad is about me and the gay thing …”

And on and on George goes, scarcely stopping to draw breath, and I lean in, nodding and smiling in what I hope are all the right places. After a while, he squeezes my knee.

“You’ve zoned out,” he says with a soft pout.

“I’m sorry.”

He shrugs, but his eyes narrow and his face pinches.Fuck.The claws are about to come out.

“I’m used to it,” he says. “No one’s interested in my life. Everyone is just so obsessed with themselves …”

I almost laugh. If he ever asked any questions about other people’s lives, they’d think he was the best conversationalist alive.

“… and their social media. Oh my God! I forgot to tell you, Michaela—that bitch—stole the most perfect picture of us all clubbing and got hundreds of likes. I was so mad …”

And he’s off again. If he asked me to, I could write him a software script that would automatically generate loads of engagement and shares on social media.

---