Al would be totally rapt with attention and would ask questions and let Jude ramble as long as he liked, and he wouldenjoyit. He wouldcare.
A pang of frustration swelled inside of Jude, followed by great sorrow.
He wished he was here with Al alone, and how fucked up was that? These were his parents—people who were supposed to love him unconditionally. He wished, very desperately, that things were different.
But he would not change who he was to make them happy.
He loved himself too much to hurt himself like that.
“Well,” his mother said then, and the sound of her voice erased any pleasant feelings left in Jude with impressive efficiency. “Are you going to introduce us to your special friend?”
Jude rolled his eyes at the term “special friend.” He had come out of the womb fruitier than a fruitcake. She’d had plenty of time to adjust to it, yet still went out of her way to be contrary.
“Mom, Dad, this is myboyfriend,Al,” Jude said, with exaggerated emphasis on the word “boyfriend.” “Al, this is my mom, Pauline, and my dad, Howard.”
His mother—a woman of slight stature and menacingly sharp angles—puckered her lips like she’d been sucking on a lemon and held out her hand to Al. “It’s a pleasure,” she said, sounding like it was anything but. She gripped Al’s hand for no more than a second before letting go, but it seemed to be a second too long—upon making contact with her, Al shuddered strangely, but when Jude turned his head to check on him, Al just gave a small, strained smile and a curt shake of his head.
Jude’s dad offered Al his hand, too, as well as a low grunt, which was his primary form of communication. Al hesitated a moment, then accepted the proffered hand. Jude watched Al in trepidation, not sure what to expect, but Al did not seem to be as affected by making contact with Jude’s dad as he had been with his mom. He accepted the overly aggressive handshake and politely took his hand back when appropriate without having shuddered once.
“Very good to meet you, dudes,” Al said cordially, and Jude grimaced. Hereallyshould have told Al that dude didn’t mean what he thought it did, but it was too cute. Besides, the confused look on his dad’s face and the vaguely offended one on his mom’s were pretty funny.
“What aninterestingaccent you have, Al. Where are you from?” his mother asked.
“I am from…” Al began, and Jude clenched everything from his jaw to his asshole, “Greece.” The corner of Al’s eye twitched as he fought the impulse to say more, but to Jude’s great relief, he managed to refrain.
Jude’s mother looked like she had something, likely tactless, to say about that, but at that moment the hostess returned. Jude’s brother, Lennon, was trailing closely behind her, and Jude’s recently relaxed asshole clenched all over again.
“Hey, sorry I’m late!” Lennon said, way louder than was appropriate in such a quiet restaurant. He wrapped an arm around their mother’s shoulder and gave her a squeeze, and for the first time since Jude and Al got there, she smiled.
“Oh, don’t worry about it, honey. We haven’t even ordered yet.”
“Pops,” Lennon said, clapping hands with their dad in a sort of high five/handshake situation.
Lennon then turned his attention on Jude.
“Well, well, well,” he said, sliding into the empty chair on Jude’s opposite side. “Look who it is. It’s been a while, hasn’t it? What the heck have you been up to, Judy?”
“Not a whole lot,Lenny,” Jude muttered.
Lennon barked with laughter. “Oh don’t be like that, kid.” He socked Jude in the shoulder in a way that was probably meant to be friendly, but instead sent spidering pain down Jude’s arm. It was no surprise—Lennon didn’t know what it meant to be gentle. He was stacked with bulging muscles that had cemented his position as their college’s star linebacker, or defensive quarterman, or whatever the fuck his position was on his college football team, and it seemed to Jude that he used those muscles at full power all the time.
“Ow,” Jude murmured, rubbing the sore spot.
“Judy and her noodle arms,” Lennon joked, making both of their parents laugh along with him. “Guess there’s not a lot of opportunity for building up muscle in art school, huh?”
“So what is everyone having tonight?” Jude said loudly, opening his menu. “I hear this place makes great tamales.”
“And who are you?” Lennon asked, ignoring Jude in favor of peering around him to grin menacingly at Al. “Did Judy go and get himself a new plaything? What happened to that last guy? The one who kept checking me out? No judgment, of course—I know I’m hot.”
“We broke up,” Jude said curtly, leaving no room for questions. “This is Al. My new boyfriend. We’ve been seeing each other for a few months.”
Lennon, now smirking, raised an eyebrow. “Is that so?”
“Yes,” said Al, sounding glad to be able to clarify. “We see each other most of the time as we are in each other’s company often, and we are also ma—ah, I mean, we are also boyfriends.”
“Well, it’s nice to meet you, bud.” Lennon reached in front of Jude and held out his hand to Al.
“It is also nice to meet you, dude,” Al said, and shook Lennon’s hand.
