Page 24 of Catching Sparkles

“Ooh, okay. Interesting. Well, who’s your friend? I might be able to help.”

“Kendall Austin.”

She heaved a giant sigh, pressing the back of her hand to her forehead like a Victorian era woman about to faint from an overly tight corset.

“Oh, of course you’re looking for Kendall Austin. Can’t you closet cases like anything else?”

Heat flooded my face as my throat tightened.

“I’m not in the closet!” I stammered out, looking around to see if anyone had heard. “I’m just- I want Kendall. I want to talk to Kendall,” I corrected myself quickly, when she popped up a thick, manicured eyebrow.

“Alright, sweetie. Let’s get you to Kendall,” she said, sighing wistfully again before planting her palm on the crown of my head and ruffling my hair like I was an adorable, yet foolish puppy.

She led me through the crowd with a sense of purpose and direction I had previously been lacking which I was grateful for, despite the fact that she’d called me a closet case. Which I wasn’t. I’d always liked women. I’d never been curious about guys. And I’d had plenty of opportunity, with all the locker rooms I’d shared with other young, built athletes.

What flag colors were for when you were completely beaten down from your toxic, shitty marriage, but your little brother happened to have a best friend who’d had an adorable crush on you for basically forever? And he didn’t have any qualms about making it clear how attractive he found you, and loved showering you with praise and compliments. And he was so cute and so sweet that when you were with him it actually made you forget how everything in your life was in actual shambles? And you were so stupidly and humiliatingly touch starved that you started to feel like you’d actually combust if you didn’t get some kind of sexual contact, but he was the only person who felt safe to go to? So even though he was a guy, and you weren’t into guys like that, he’s who you couldn’t stop thinking about?

I’d wear a sticker with that flag on it, if they made one.

“Oh, Keke,” she finally called out in a singsong voice when we milled out into a less dense area with a circle of little booths in it. “You have a visitor.”

My eyes darted around, locking onto him as he rose up from a seat behind a booth promoting community wellness, where they seemed to be handing out pamphlets about where to get tested for free, as well as various types of condoms.

I opened my mouth to speak but instantly froze as my breath caught in my throat, all the muscles in my body clenching to hold me in place as my brain processed what he looked like as he walked over to us.

His outfit, if you could legally call something that covered so little of his body an outfit, consisted of tiny black cutoff shorts and a completely sheer top made of pink fishnet, under which his nipples were crossed over with what looked like black bandages. Black cat ears protruded from his head, and the pink collar around his neck had a silver bell hanging from it. It sparkled in the sun just like the ball pierced through his bellybutton.

“Pick up your jaw, Mister none of those flags describe me,” Dolly suggested lightly. I quickly closed my mouth, but could barely tear my eyes away from his bare thighs. His white thigh-high socks had cat faces printed at the top.

“Hi guys,” he greeted us cheerfully, but seemingly without all the awkward tension I felt. As he got closer, I noticed he was wearing makeup. Black eyeliner that flicked out in a sharp little wing to elongate his eyes, and shiny stuff on his cheekbones and the bridge of his nose. “What’s up?”

I suddenly regretted everything, but it was too late to escape now. Was he thinking about how the last time we’d seen each other was when I’d experienced the humiliating trifecta of not getting hard on my date, blowing my load in his mouth before the five second mark, and then crashing the fuck out on his couch before I could even try to really explain myself? There was no way he wasn’t thinking about that, right?

“Oh, just bringing you this lost little lamb,” Dolly explained. “He told me he was part of your flock.”

Kendall chuckled a little but seemed used to her strange sense of humor, and didn’t look too surprised by her wording. I, on the other hand, wanted to sink through the asphalt straight to the molten core of the Earth and die.

“Were you looking for me, Rhys?” He questioned gently, tilting his head. His bangs shifted as he moved, shimmering in the bright sunlight, such a pretty pink that it made my stomach clench.

My words threatened to stick in my throat like glue, before I determinedly pushed them out.

“I, uh… Is there somewhere we can talk?”

“Well, I…” He glanced back at the booth.

“Don’t worry, sweetie, I’ll cover for you,” Dolly volunteered, sailing past us to head over to the booth. “Who wouldn’t want to get condoms from me?” She wondered, dragging another chuckle out of Kendall as he thanked her.

“Okay,” he said, once she’d taken his seat. “What did you want to talk about?”

“Um… In private, maybe?” I asked weakly, trying not to squirm with embarrassment at the request. There were people milling around us in every direction. They didn’t seem to be paying too much attention, but… I felt vulnerable enough as it was.

He looked around, our eyes landing on a skinny little alley between two buildings at the same time. I followed him over, moving past the trash cans and down the little path, where there was a small alcove that led to the side. When we stepped into it, we couldn’t be seen from the road outside the alley. The sound of the music and crowd was loud enough to drown us out too, but the tiny space forced us to stand so close it was easy enough to talk.

He backed up to the wall, lifting one knee to rest the sole of his shoe on the bricks as he peered up at me through his long lashes. The alley smelled musty and vaguely like old trash, but the way his fruity shampoo lingered in his hair, along with the sharp, mineral scent of the sunscreen he must have slathered on, drowned it all out for me.

“Is everything okay, Rhys?” He asked, his brows drawing together in obvious concern for me.

Right. He wasn’t going to bring it up if I didn’t bring it up. So if I never brought it up, then we’d just never talk about it. Was that okay with me? Did I even want to talk about it? I didn’t know what the hell I wanted. Even less so now, staring down at him in his stupidly hot little cat costume. Costume wasn’t the right word for it. It was a slutty outfit with cat ears and a collar.