“You’re funny,” Miguel said, chuckling. “I like you. My boyfriend would like you too, because he likes them comedic types. You got someone waiting for you at home? I bet you do, as cute as you are. Do you know how I know? You look in love. You have that dreamy look about you. I’m right, right? I bet you have a nice girl on the outside. Or a cute boy such as yourself, maybe? A lot of options these days, so don’t keep me guessing. Wait, I know! How about a sexy, macho guy, eh?Dime la verdad.”
The last option made my cheeks burn.
“I don’t have anyone,” I mumbled. “In fact, I’m asexual. Kind of.”
Miguel frowned in confusion. “What’s that,cabrón?”
“It’s when you don’t need sex at all.”
He gasped. “No way such a thing exists, man. I had no idea.”
I smiled for the first time since I entered the Grangetown Correctional Facility. Miguel’s words got me thinking, though.
“So, um…” I said, playing with a potato peel. “How do you know… how do you know you’re gay? I mean… unless it’s like a friend thing or something.”
Miguel gazed into the distance thoughtfully.
“Huh! Well, let’s say you have a good buddy. Like the best buddy in the world. And you, like, do everything together. Or say you have a gym bro, right? He’s your partner. Your man. Your rock. But these guys are perfect as they are, right? Like strawberries. You admire them, but they don’t make your mouth water like a burger, for example. But say you meet a man one day, and instead of a man, you see a giant ice cream that you want to lick all over. And that ice cream makes your dick hard, man, like harder than it has ever been. If your dick gets hard when you see that man, the chances are you are gay.”
“It’s a definite sign, huh?” I said, sighing in defeat.
“I mean, it could be,” Miguel mused. “But we’re talking in absolutes here,cabrón. Everyone’s different.”
By lunchtime, I was exhausted, my hands hurt, and I would rather starve than eat a potato in my life. I returned to the cell, but Adam wasn’t there, which immediately put me on high alert. The thought of something happening to him filled me with dread. What if someone was onto us? Why did we agree to come here? How could Chief Bibb do this to us? Those similar questions plagued me, so no wonder I left my sandwich uneaten. After lunch, they sent me back to the kitchen, but Adam never showed up.
By dinnertime, I was ready to crack. It was when I approached the guard, who welcomed me with a hand on his baton.
“Excuse me, sir,” I mumbled, clearing my throat. “Do you perhaps know where my cellmate is? He wasn’t in our cell for lunch and—”
“Do I look like a babysitter to you?” Guard Asshole asked me, chewing his gum.
“No, sir, but—”
“This is a prison inmate, not a promenade. You’re here to serve a sentence, not to date. Go back to work and don’t make me repeat myself.”
I did what Guard Asshole told me because what else could I do? Minutes turned into hours as I kept glancing at the clock, because time didn't pass as it normally would. When I finally returned to the cell and found it empty, I felt physically ill. I sat on the bunk and buried my fingers in my hair, needing the pain so I would stop thinking.
“What’s up, weirdo?”
I looked up, wide-eyed, only to see Adam entering the cell, looking sweaty and tired.
“You fucking asshole!” I exclaimed, jumping to my feet.
When I pushed him into a wall, he looked at me as if I’d lost my mind.
“What the fuck?”
“Where the hell were you?” I growled, suppressing the need to strangle him.
“They sent me to some farm instead of the laundry,” he exclaimed, pushing me away. “I spent the entire day shoveling manure. What’s the matter with you?”
“I thought something happened to you!” I shouted. “You weren’t here for lunch, and they refused to tell me where you were and…”
I buried my face in my hands, hyperventilating.
“Shit,” Adam muttered, his voice softening. “Sorry, but I had no way of letting you know. Calm down.”
I could feel his hands on my head, massaging my temples.
