You Are the Reason Read Free Page B

watching the whole thing. She looked embarrassed, but I’m pretty sure she was laughing at me.
    “Shuddup,” I snorted at her, and she giggled.
    “Whoops. I’ll buy you a drink this time,” she said.
    “No, it’s fine.”
    But she did anyway. We chatted while the first of the celebrating Fremantle fans began to trickle through the door. It turned out she could point out a gay guy at fifty paces. She told me to go and try the Asian-looking guy in the corner, and I scoffed that he wasn’t gay. She wagered me a drink that he was, and I lost the bet. He flirted back at me for five minutes. Then he told me he was a born-again Christian, and wasn’t giving it up for any guy until they’d been dating a minimum of six months.
    Lee was also right about the guy in flannel with the tattooed arms (who told me he was gay but was taking a break from the sex stuff while his heart mended), the emo guy (who told me he couldn’t be with a guy again until his therapist told him it was okay), and the startlingly thin guy in a suit. I almost ran back to Lee when the man told me he would love it if I would come home with him, as he would like to see me tied to his kitchen table while he dribbled hot wax over my chest—and filmed it for his website.
    Each time, Lee bought me a beer to commiserate me striking out yet again, and I bought her another glass of wine to admit that I was wrong once again and that my mark had been gay.
    Finally, at about eleven o’clock, I had yet to score and I was drunk. So was Lee. She didn’t mention Bobby again, but he obviously hadn’t shown his face.
    “You never did tell me what sort of guy you go for,” Lee said as we sat with our heads together. She was shorter than me, but the barstool brought her up to my level.
    “I didn’t wanna be crude,” I told her.
    She waved her glass around airily. “Fuck it, Dave. We’re both fuckin’ drunk. Who cares about manners?”
    My inebriation agreed with her. “I’m gay,” I said. “I like guys.”
    She frowned and blinked owlishly. “Duh. But what sort of guys? You’re allowed to have a type, even though you’re gay.”
    She was swaying drunkenly, and truthfully, I wasn’t that steady either. “I don’t. About a type, I mean. As long as they’ve got a penis and will bottom for me, I don’t really care.” I took another mouthful of drink and thought that over. “Actually, they don’t even have to bottom. If they’re willing to suck me off, that will do.”
    I was slurring my words, and Lee nodded until her head bumped onto my shoulder and stayed there. “I’ll suck you off, if you want.”
    “But you’re a girl. And I’m gay. Gay means no girls. G-A-Y stands for Girls Are Yucky.”
    The beer was making me dumb.
    “I’ll still suck you.” She was giggling into my neck, and with the last bit of reasoning I had, I pulled her off her chair and staggered to the door. She was too cute to go around offering to suck just any guy, so I had to get her out of there.
    I asked Sav to get us a taxi, and sat down on the bench outside the bar. Lee slumped beside me with her legs spread wide in a very unladylike manner. She leaned against me.
    “Where’re we goin’?”
    It took three goes before my hand connected with her shoulder. I tried to pat her gently, but it came out more of a slap. In my drunkenness, I couldn’t find the energy to care.
    “I’m takin’ you home. Your home. When a cute li’l girl like you starts off’rin’ to suck off gays, it’s time to go home.”

Chapter 3

     
    W E DIDN ’ T make it to Lee’s home. Somehow my address was the only thing I could remember for the taxi driver. With my last bit of sobriety, I managed to find my keys and unlock my front door.
    The ride home had made me drunker as my body processed the alcohol in my stomach, whereas the taxi ride had sobered Lee a little.
    By the next morning, I could remember her ushering me into my bedroom—and that was about it. I had vague memories of