Page 42 of High Density

“I didn’t, but now I do,” she replies in a soft voice, a faint smile on her lips.

My thumbs brush the downy skin of her cheeks. “I can’t wait to find out if your skin is this soft all over.”

She grabs my wrists with her hands and holds on. “There you go, teasing me again.”

For a moment, I stare into her eyes before dropping a hard kiss on her mouth. Then I release her and head for the door,before I find another way to spend the small window of time we have before the FBI gets here.

I’ve just turned left on the main road toward town, when my phone rings. It’s Una again, but this time I answer, remembering Janey’s advice on communication.

“Finally,” my sister says by way of greeting.

“Hello to you too,” I respond dryly.

“Well, you’ve been ignoring my calls and my messages for days,” she immediately accuses.

“And I may go back to ignoring them if you don’t have something constructive to say,” I warn her.

That shuts her up, but only for a moment. She quickly gets to the point of her call, looking for an ally.

“Ma is such a bitch, she?—”

“Una, if you’re calling me to gang up on Ma, you can save it. I don’t wanna hear. I’m done being put in the middle. If you have an issue with Ma, call her. If you wanna talk about why the hell you pulled that stunt last Saturday night, not only throwing me under the bus, but using Janey as a pawn in your little scheme, be my guest.”

“I didn’t use Janey as a pawn,” she fires back.

I note she doesn’t try to deny throwing me under the bus.

“Give it up,” I scold her. “You pushed me to invite her, knowing you were going to create family drama over dinner. I’m not sure what you were hoping to achieve by doing that, maybe a more moderate reaction from Ma? It obviously failed. And now you’re hoping I’ll listen to you whine about Ma some more?”

“I told you she’d never accept me being gay.”

I pinch the bridge of my nose.

“Una, you’re my sister and I love you, but that chip on your damn shoulder is so big, it’s impairing your sight. This has nothing to do with you being a lesbian and everything to do with you lying to our parents your entire adult life. Not only that, youforced me to lie as well. Ma is pissed because Ma is hurt, and I don’t blame her.”

I hear her scoff on the other side, but she doesn’t say anything, so I push on.

“And I’m hurt too, and pissed off. To put me in that position after covering your ass for all those years feels like a betrayal. So, forgive me if I’m not eager to hold your hand or be your go-between right now. Those days are over. Fix your own problems, talk to our mother, and then—maybe—try calling me again.”

With that I end the call, and despite my frustration with my sister, I’m feeling a weight has lifted by the time I pull up to the Cheesy Pies truck. I quickly collect my pizza order, tell them to throw in a couple of iced teas, and beeline it back. I’m uneasy leaving Janey alone for too long.

When I get to her place, I dig through the back seat of my truck to find something cleaner to wear than the clothes I have on now. I dig up a sports bag that must’ve been in there for a couple of months, since I haven’t been to the gym in at least that long. But at least it holds a pair of clean socks, a shirt, and some sweats that smell better than the jeans I have on. I didn’t realize how foul I reeked until the beautiful aroma from the pizza was overwhelmed by the smell of cow shit. No way I can eat smelling like this.

Using Janey’s bathroom—which is permeated by her scent—is the worst kind of torture. I briefly contemplate polishing one off in the shower, but decide against it. Instead, I turn the faucet to cold for a few minutes before I step out.

Janey is on her couch, her feet tucked under her as she’s watching the news on TV. The pizza and iced teas, along with a couple of plates and napkins, are waiting on the coffee table.

“Unless you want to sit at the table?” she asks when I walk in.

“Not particularly.”

I drop down beside her.

“You could’ve started without me,” I suggest.

“You weren’t that long,” she returns, reaching to flip open the pizza box.

My stomach rumbles loudly as she loads three pieces on a plate and hands it to me, before serving herself.

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