Page 17 of Your Only Fan
Linc sighs and sits back.
“She didn’t like that I slept over the other night—”
“Why am I not surprised? Have you told her that’s not how gay works?”
“And...” he drawls, ignoring my remark so I shut up. “I got an email about this production that wants me to direct for them. She doesn’t want me to do it because the producer is Lenka.”
I can’t help but roll my eyes.
“She does know Lenka is a big ass lesbo, right?”
He shrugs with defeat.
“I have an idea.” I raise a finger in the air between us, and I feel his intense stare. “Why doesn’t she buy a little cage and keep you in it for the rest of your lives and ever after?”
Linc punches my arm again. “Don’t be stupid.”
“Uhm, I’m being stupid? It sounds exactly like what she wants to do. She doesn’t like it when you hang out with your gay best friend. She doesn’t like it when you hang out with your straight friends. She doesn’t like it when you hang out with your lesbian friends. And you’ve cut your girlfriends out of your life because—and I quote—‘They all just want to have sex with you.’ Why are you with her again? You’re obviously not happy. She’s trying to control every minute of your life. She’s insanely jealous. What exactly is she doing foryou?”
“She-she loves me,” he says.
“Does she? Do you? Or is it justconvenient?”
He stays silent. I turn on Walberg Avenue and pull over by Firefly Café. Linc gets out and goes into the shop, leaving me behind fuming.
My best friend deserves a lot better than Makayla. Why won’t he see it? What’s stopping him?
“Here you go, Professor,” he says when he comes back, and he’s like a changed man with a smile on his face and a spring in his step.
I eye him for a good while as he puts his seatbelt back on.
“What?”
“Are you high?”
He punches my arm in response. “No. But I’ve got my coffee and an apology text message, so can we forget everything?”
“Oh my. An apology text? And you haven’t married her yet? What are you waiting for? Elope. Elope,” I deadpan.
“Shut up. Tell me what happened last night? Did he come?”
I take a sip of my coffee and set off again. This is definitely not over, but I’m not gonna push it right now. He might not be high, but he’s definitely riding on a high and whatever I say will be immediately dismissed.
“Oh, he came all right,” I say, putting the issue to rest on the back of my mind.
“What happened? Did you tell him how you feel?”
I blow raspberries. “Are you crazy? He didn’t even see my face. Why would I tell him how I feel?” I say.
“I thought that was the whole purpose of this ‘date.’”
“No. The whole point of this date was to ‘fuck him out of my system.’ You said it! Not me.”
“Okay, fine. And? Is he fucked out of your system?”
I laugh.
If only it were that easy.
