His mouth twitches with an aggravated smile, and I smile even bigger, waiting for his move. Using a tiny bit of that rough-edged bossiness I like so much in the bedroom, he pulls me in tight and begins to dance with me, rolling his hips in time with mine.
“Brat.”
“Hard-ass.”
Still holding me tight to his chest, Nick reaches between us and pulls a folded fiver out of his front pocket, which he tucks neatly into my back pocket, skimming my ass with his strong fingers.
Now that money has changed hands, our dancing, if that’s what we’re calling it, starts to get playful. His body is responsive, and quickly he finds a good rhythm, which we capitalize on all night.Ed Sheeran’s “Perfect” is the last song of the evening, and I pull away, assuming he wouldn’t want to dance to such a romantic song in front of other people. I mean, I’m pretty sure the cat is out of the bag with how much time we’ve spent with each other tonight, but Ed Sheeran is a different matter entirely.
Completely unfazed, Nick tut-tuts me for pulling away and pulls me even closer to him, and I notch my head under his chin, officially my favorite place in the world.
By the end of the evening, we’ve more than doubled our goal for donations, and I could not be prouder of the work we’re doing. Nick also surprised the HVA with an extra donation of blankets and socks. The weather is getting colder, and blankets and socks are always in high demand at the shelters. At the end of the evening, Nick stands by the door to say goodbye to people. Though he’s uncomfortable with the recognition, he surprises me with his ability to schmooze, treating the famous, infamous, and unknown with equal charm and kindness.
As they wrap up inside, I wait outside by the staircase that leads up to Nick’s apartment. I’ve tried not to personalize what this event is about, but now that it’s over, I’m in my head. I’m just one paycheck away from getting together the deposit I need to live in a better place, completely independent. I shed a few tears, thinking about the road that led me here, and maybe that’s why I don’t see her approach.
“Wow, Elijah. Look at you, all fancy.”
I snap my head up, surprised. “Baby P! How the hell are you doing?” I go in for a hug and smell the meth on her clothes. Baby Paris promises that she doesn’t get high on her own supply, but I have my doubts sometimes. She looks clear tonight, though.
“I’m all right, sweetness. This your new gig?” She gestures at the gym with her large but well-manicured hands, the crystals on her nails and the glitter on her eyelids glinting in the streetlights.
“Uh, yeah. They like me here, I guess.”
“You got a good sugar daddy angle working? I always thought that you were too pretty to be living the life, you know?”
I flush, thinking about Nick. “No, nothing like that. Though… I might have myself something of a boyfriend.” I wonder how he’d feel about me calling him that.
“Same difference, honey.” She winks at me, and though I disagree, I respect Baby Paris too much. She’s been a kind of a mentor to me after everything went to shit, and I’d never say anything to hurt or offend my friend.
As I consider about how our lives are about to converge onto two noticeably different paths, I notice a late-model luxury car with dark tinting pull up to the sidewalk.
“Hey, sweetness, that’s my ride. You take care of yourself, okay?”
A rebel tear escapes from the corner of my eye, and I slip my hand into my back pocket. “You too. Um, hey—I won a stupid five-dollar bet tonight. You need cash, honey?”
Baby Paris smiles, sliding her hand over mind, palming the cash before I even register that it’s gone. “Thanks, sugar. You always were such a sweet boy. I’ll see you when I see you, okay?”
I smile and give her another big hug, then watch her disappear into the car, wondering if this’ll be the night she becomes a statistic, or if the sun will rise on Baby Paris tomorrow, like it has all of her life.
“She a friend of yours?”
I startle when Roly’s voice cuts through the darkness. “Uh, yeah. Friend from my old neighborhood.”
Roly’s eyebrows pinch together. “Look, I’m not trying to judge you, or whatever, but were you buying something off of her?”
I wave my hands, hoping to dismiss that notion quickly. “Oh god, no. To be fair, sheisa meth dealer, but I would never buy meth and she would never sell it to me.”
“Soooo…. you’re just good buddies with a tranny meth head?”
Damn, Roly. “Oh, please don’t… don’t call her that. Either, really. I mean, when people use dehumanizing language about trans folks, it’s people like her who die, so, yeah. She probably… definitely saved my life a couple of times when things got really rough. Also, she insists that she just sells the meth to make ends meet; she never uses it. And I choose to believe her. Even though she did smell a bit like a meth lab tonight.”
“And now so do you.” His eyes are shrewd but kind. “But yeah, you’re right, though. Jules is my cousin and I’d never call her that.”
“Unless y’all are joking inappropriately about it.”
“True.”
I bite my lip and look into Roly’s eyes. “Look, Roly, I haven’t told Nick everything about me… not yet. Not until I get a few things squared at least. And with the raise you gave me, I’m super close to square. Okay?”
