Page 67 of Fruit
CHAPTER TWELVE
“Jesus,” Joaquin says quietly. I shift my legs where they’re stretched over his lap as we sit on his couch, the TV an unattended murmur.
“I know. I—honestly, Joaquin, when I saw the kid’s face and it was all…like, you think you get used to seeing violence ’cause it’s on TV and everything but then you see it up close and on a child’s—or a teenager’s, whatever—face and…” I trail off. Joaquin nods understandingly, squeezing my leg lightly in comfort.
“But he’s okay?”
“I think so…I mean, physically at least. I haven’t seen him since then, ’cause it happened yesterday obviously, but—he’s got his mom. And us. And, Joaquin, he issotalented. He’s gonna make it so fucking far based on his own merit, and it just pisses me off that there are going to be people trying to shit on that just because their closed minds won’t let them see Joshua for who he really is.”
“Yeah. But he’s going to make it, and those people are going to die being assholes.”
I snort. “Yep.”
“We were lucky, huh?” Joaquin asks quietly.
I really think about the question for a moment. “I mean. Yeah. But also…fuck that? Like, how is it that we’re in a world where your parents being cool about the gender you fuck or whatever is being lucky? It should be standard. Having Tom Hardy as a daddy should be lucky.”
Joaquin chuckles and we share the kind of look so full of history it has a depth of its own, wrapping the conversation up in comfort.
“Speaking of Tom Hardys…” Joaquin starts. “How are things with Sebastián?”
I raise my eyebrows sarcastically at his clumsy conversational transition. “Things are good. They’re…” I don’t know how to finish.
“You haven’t hooked up with anybody else in a while.”
“I know.”
“Remember what you said to Iván at his gallery show? That—”
“I know! I know, okay. I’m notcrazy. I get that I’m, like…” I wave my hands around, “Not following my usual FWB routine. Like…I’m not blind.”
“Well then—”
“No, I just…Okay. This dude has just—he’s got his shit together. He runs a non-profit business, he’s so fucking kind, and just…and he knows about life. And he’s hot. Okay? And I’m not saying I’mgarbage, I’m just saying…I’m messy and loud, and I’ve never done this before, and I’m scared. There. I fucking said it. I’m fucking scared, and we agreed to do casual, and I don’t want to fuck this up.”
“You’re not gonna fuck this up.”
“You don’t know that. Life is—you can’t know that. Yeah, we hang out on Saturdays, but he doesn’t text me a lot during the week. Is that just him, or is that part of the relationship? Until the weekend we spent together, he never asked me to stay over. Is that part of the boundaries we set, or did he not want me there? He’s shared stuff with me about his past, but was it me, or did he need to talk about it in a difficult situation? Like. I don’t fucking know and before you even say anything, no I can’t ask.”
“Why?”
“Because I’m freaking scared of the answers! I’m not being logical about this, dude. Just…I’m going to see where this goes and be super dumb and not talk to him about it and hope it all sorts itself out.”
“Well…I’m not really in a position to lecture you about this. At least you admit it.”
“Yep. Your dragged-out thing with Ezra was fucking torture to watch, dude. I’ve watched telenovelas with less drama.”
Joaquin squeezes the sides of my knee sharply and my leg jerks away as I laugh.
“Iwillfucking kick you!”
“If anybody’s a telenovela here, it’s you.”
“Howdareyou. You betrayed my sister with my other sister and then got the horse pregnant.”
“Okay, you stepped over the line with that last—”
“Prepare to die!”
