Page 7 of Teach Me How
She tips her head back and laughs. “Fuck no.”
I’m… relieved. But also, a little angry.
Why?
Why do we have to hide this part of ourselves?
I set my beer down and grab the hem of my hoodie. “Hey… can you guys keep a secret?”
I pull my sweater up and show them who I am.
Who I want to be. No more fucking hiding.
4.
Skyler
It’s too fucking bright.
They say the mountain air is good for your health, but right now, I feel like it’s sucking the life out of an already drained husk.
Head pounding, stomach roiling, I hustle back through the hotel lobby. Thank God that cute blonde was just staying on the other side of the convention center. I never asked which convention she was here for and I’m just praying it wasn’t Global Tech. I don’t think I can tolerate any more surprise encounters.
Terry spots me across the wide floor and arches an eyebrow before making her way over with two coffees in her hands. She’s long-legged, with bright blue eyes and flowing brown hair. She kind of gives Sex in the City vibes. Always pristine. Tailored. If we didn’t have to work together nearly every day, I probably would have taken her to bed months ago. But as it is, I keep her firmly in the friends category. And Terry? I’m pretty sure she thinks of me as a girlfriend. Or a dog.
She passes me a coffee and I groan in relief. “How’d you know?”
She rolls her eyes. “You have a pattern, sir. When I went past your room this morning, and you weren’t there, I did the math. I also know you’d rather eat a porcupine than be late for a meeting.” Her gaze rolls over me, unimpressed. “You look like shit.”
I sip the coffee, burning my tongue. “I need to go straighten up quick. There’s time, right?”
She laughs, shaking her head. “I’ll stall. You’ve got fifteen minutes.”
I’m back in ten. Eyedrops for my bloodshot eyes. Water and gel for my severe bedhead.
“Better.” She passes me a folder and we start down the hall towards our first panel. “If you had a girlfriend, you wouldn’t run into these predicaments.”
“You just say that because you’re sick of covering for me.”
She laughs. “I am. That’s true. Why don’t you just date closer to home?”
“I don’t shit where I eat.”
She grunts, smiling. “Eloquent.”
“It’s a small-town thing. You’re Chicago-born. You wouldn’t understand.”
We push through a double set of doors. “Try me.”
“It’d get messy.” Same goes for her. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t thought about it. “We all know each other. It’s like one, big tangled clusterfuck.”
“You make it sound so appealing.”
“Oh, it is. Everybody’s cousins with somebody else. It’s like that Kevin Bacon game, six degrees of separation, except there’s only one degree of separation.”
“Meaning, you all know each other?”
“You’re catching on. And if I date said girl, and it doesn’t work out, said girl’s brother is most likely a friend of mine, or of my dad’s, and then those guys are giving me shit. And it’s front-page news.”