“Fuck, I’m an idiot.” I lift a hand up to my head and rub my forehead. My Italian genes then take over and my hand then starts to fly around as I continue. “It was fucking stupid, okay, I don’t know why I said it, why I even thought it. I really shouldn’t have. It was stupid. The stupidest. I am the biggest idiot.”
Giles unfolds his arms and one of them catches hold of my overactive limb. “Stop. You are not the biggest idiot.”
“I’m pretty sure I am. I just asked you to fuck me based solely on the fact you’ve fucked men before.”
“Actually,” Giles’ lips curl up into a crafty smile and I’ve never been so pleased to see his moustache wiggle, “you didn’t even ask me. You just said weshouldfuck.”
“Merda, so I’m the rudest biggest idiot.”
“You are neither of those things. But I do sense you may be a bit confused about… your sexuality, am I right?”
It feels like my whole body loosens with relief at somebody else not just knowing this but also defining it perfectly. “Yes, a little.”
“And is there any particular reason why?” One of Giles’ thick eyebrows rises a little and it’s difficult to tell if he’s really smiling under his moustache or doing something else. Smirking knowingly, perhaps?
“It’s probably my mid-life crisis. Can’t afford a sports car and I’m not married nor do I have a secretary so no illicit affair with my assistant.”
“So you just randomly started to think you’re bisexual?” Giles’ tone drips with I-call-bullshit, and I have to bite back my embarrassed laugh.
“Fine. So there’s this guy,” I say and I don’t know why I say that of all things. But I also can’t imagine being honest with Giles about what I feel. I think I would rather die than actually say the words, ‘I think I fancy you.’ to him, especially now I know he’s not interested. “At swimming training.”
“Swimming training?” Giles eyebrow climbs higher. “I didn’t know you started swimming training already.”
That’s because I haven’t. It’s a lie. All of this is a big fat lie.
“Yeah, just last week,” I lie a bit more.
“And you already met someone you think you like?”
“Yeah,” a rough laugh leaves my lips, “he looks amazing in yellow Speedos.”
“He must do.” Giles nods thoughtfully. “So you want to know if this is really a crush or not?”
“Yeah, kinda,” I agree. I mean, that much is true.
“Then why don’t you just ask him out?”
I feel the need to shift my weight, fidget on my feet but that would literally give away how I’m very much thinking on my toes right now. “He’s straight.”
“Oh,” Giles says and his face is very… blank.
“Yeah, so I maybe fancy him. He doesn’t fancy me,” again, the truth, “but regardless, it’s got me thinking that I might be bisexual.”
Giles inhales deeply through his nose. “You know there are… apps for these kinds of situations.”
“I’m sure there are but I…” I hold back what I want to say next. It’s too much. It would reveal far too much. “Let’s just forget I said anything. Can I blame my ADHD? I think I’ve been hyperfixating on it and sometimes when I do that, it can normalise some really less than normal thoughts, so when I do blurt them out, I don’t actually realise how weird I’m being.”
Giles’ forehead creases. “I don’t think you’re not normal. I think this is a good thing. I think everyone should question their sexuality at least once in their life.”
“Well, I’m definitely ticking that box.” I smile weakly.
Giles hand comes out and grips the top of my arm. “Don’t be so hard on yourself.”
“I’m not being hard on myself,” I say at the same time that I think to myself, that’s exactly what I’m being.
“Like I say, there are apps you can use. I am confident you’d find a man or two who would be up for letting you explore your… your desires.”
My body decides to assault me with two very different consecutive actions. First it shudders at the thought of a strange man or two kissing me, holding me, touching me. And then that melts away as Giles says the word, “desires” while holding my eye contact in that intense way he does.
