The Queen & the Homo Jock King (58 page)

“Of course not.”

“We’re not even
close
to talking about me!”

“Wow,” Corey said. “I didn’t know a man could go up that many octaves in the space of a single breath. Color me impressed.”

“He sounds like a kangaroo trying to sing an opera,” Vince said.

“How is rule ten that he loves me!” I bellowed. “That motherfucking
asshole
. How
dare
he love me and not even tell me!”

“Yeah,” Corey said. “If this is the reaction he was going to get, I totally can’t see why he didn’t tell you.”

“I brought you into this world,” I threatened. “And I can sure as shit take you out of it.”

Corey snorted. “You’re too white to be my mom.”

“Oh snap,” Vince said as he fist-bumped Corey.

In a last ditch effort to save my sanity, I asked, “Then why is Darren all up on that twink?”

“Do we know that that’s the case?” Paul asked. “It sounds to me like there’s just a bunch of assumptions going on here. This whole thing might not be what you think it is.”

“You’re right,” I said. “You’re absolutely right. And there is only one way to clear this up.”

Vince looked relieved. “You’re going to talk to him about this like a mature and responsible adult.”

“What?” I said. “Of course not. Don’t be ridiculous. We’re going to find out where he’s going on his date with Caleb, and we’re going to follow and spy on them.”

“Oh my god,” Corey said. “We’ll need
disguises
.”

“Obviously,” I said. “You can’t go undercover without disguises. It’s, like, the law.”

“This probably isn’t going to end well,” Paul said.

“Of course it will,” I said. “We’ll either see that Darren is a fucking slut and deserves to be hit by a bus, or that he’s pining for me and I will need to sit on his face.”

“Gross,” Corey said. “And also romantic.”

“Or,” Vince said, “we could go with
my
idea and just talk to—”

“We already voted,” I said.

“We did?” he asked.

“Yes. And you lost.”

“Sorry, babe,” Paul said. “Because
disguises
.”

“I still think it’d be easier if you just
asked
—”

“Vince! I have a job for you!”

“Of course you do, Sandy,” he said with a sigh.

“You need to call your brother and find out where they’re going on their date. And you need to do it in such a way that doesn’t invite suspicion.”

“You should probably do it now,” Paul agreed.

“Because what if the date is today?” Corey said.

“And that would just be bad if we didn’t know,” I said.

Vince looked grumpy. “My disguise had better be something really cool.”

“The coolest thing you’ve ever seen,” I promised him.

He took his phone off the strap on his sleeve (bicyclists are so ridiculous) and pulled up his brother’s number, grumbling about how we always did things the hard way.

“Put it on speaker,” Corey hissed before he could raise it to his ear.

“And don’t let him know we’re listening in,” I said.

Vince sighed again, but complied.

It rang three times before—

“Vince. It’s really early.”

And yep. There were still feelings there. Because the sound of his gravelly morning voice did things to my penis.

“Sorry,” Vince said, sounding very awkward. “I just wanted to talk to my bro.”

Bro
, I mouthed at Paul.

Homo jocks
, Paul mouthed back, because that explained everything.

“You heard from Sandy?” Darren asked, and we all held our breaths. “He disappeared last night and his phone was turned off.”

“Uh,” Vince said. “No. No I haven’t. Why would I have heard from him? I don’t even know him.”

Paul put his face in his hands.

“Huh?” Darren said. “What are you talking about? Are you okay?”

“Fine,” Vince said, looking like he was starting to panic. “I’ve never been so fine. Why are you asking? Are
you
okay?”

“Sure,” Darren said slowly, and I had the random thought that I could probably jerk off successfully to the sound of his voice alone. Which was a terrible thing to be thinking right at the moment, but there it was. “You know Sandy, Vince. You know him very well.”

“Oh,
that
Sandy,” Vince cried. “I thought you meant that
other
Sandy.”

“The other Sandy. Who you don’t know.”

“Right.”

“But you know
this
Sandy.”

“Sure,” Vince said. “So well. But not
too
well. Because I already have Paul. And I wouldn’t want to step on anyone’s toes. You know. Since you’re in love.”

I wanted to
strangle
him.

“Right,” Darren sighed. “I think he’s avoiding me.”

“Oh?” Vince said.

I started waving my hands at him with the universal sign for
shut the fuck up or I’ll murder you with my stilettos.

Vince squinted at me. “Tell… me… more?”

NO!
I silently screamed at him.

“I don’t know, man,” Darren said. “Just this feeling I’m getting. Sometimes I feel like I’m getting somewhere with him, and then it’s like it used to be when he hated me. I don’t know what I did, but it’s getting worse.”

I mimed to Vince to just hang up the fucking phone, extending my thumb and pinky and putting my fist into my other fist.

He nodded like he understood but then proved once and for all that we could never be charade partners by saying, “Uh-huh, so how’s the sex?”

Paul started choking rather loudly as I paled.

Corey, for some reason, looked like he was having the time of his life. That bastard.

That’s not what I said!
I mouthed at Vince.

I thought you meant sex!
he mouthed back at me frantically.

“Uh, I love you, bro, but I’m not talking about sex with you,” Darren said. “Especially since I found out that apparently Sandy wants to have an incestuous four-way with us.”

I banged my head on the table.

“Is there someone there with you?” Darren asked.

“Nope!” Vince said. “No one at all. Just me and Wheels and that’s all there is.”

“Where’s Paul?”

Paul did this complex motion with his hands that almost looked like sign language. It lasted for approximately ten seconds and I wanted to warn Paul that Vince couldn’t possibly understand something so complex and was going to make things
worse
.

“He’s at his parents’ house,” Vince said. “He needed to go help Nana put together a bookcase and then he was going to take her to the flea market.”

Paul gave him a thumbs-up.

I glared at both of them, because he could get all of
that
, but he couldn’t understand
hanging up the fucking phone
?

“Ah,” Darren said. “And you thought to call me because….”

“Just to say hi.”

“Really.”

“Sure.” Then his eyes lit up. “
And
to ask you where you’re going on your date. With the hipster twink.”

“The hipster twink? Jesus, you’ve been hanging out with Paul and Sandy too much.”

“Well, I am engaged to one of them.”

“Right. And he makes you happy, so knock yourself out, bro.”

“Thanks, bro. That’s rad of you to say.”

“Now observe,” Corey whispered in my ear, “the elusive homo jocks in their natural habitat. Their communication skills are somewhat primitive, but their social structure is fascinatingly complex.”

I clapped my hand over my mouth to keep from braying unattractively.

“We’re going out this afternoon,” Darren said. “To that one place we went near Jack It?”

“Poco’s?”

“Yeah, it’s where he wanted to go. His choice, anyway, since he’s the one that paid for me and everything.”

“Uh-huh, and what time will that be?”

“Why?”

Vince’s eyes went wide. “Um. Because?”

“Right,” Darren said. “You sure you’re okay, bro?”

“Yeah, bro. I’m totally cool.”

“If you say so. We’re meeting there at two. And then maybe after, we’ll see how it goes with—”

“Oh no,” Vince said manically. “Look at the time. I have to go to that thing. At the place. With all those people and the Jesus. Church! I have to go to church.”

“What? Since when do you go to—”

“Bye!” And he disconnected the phone. He let out a long breath, cracked his neck, and said, “I think that went well.”

Paul had to hold me back from launching myself at him.

“YES, HI,
we have a reservation for four?” I told the hostess at Poco’s.

She looked up, a smile forming on her face.

It froze when she saw us.

Not that I really blamed her.

Because of our
amazingness
.

I, of course, was wearing my Sunday best in the form of a red skirt, black blouse, faux-fur coat, and a hat large enough to rival even the most extravagant at the Kentucky Derby. I’d had to fold it on the sides before trying to walk in through the door. I had on a pair of oversized sunglasses, which covered the top half of my face. I stood and posed in front of the hostess, letting her bask in my glory, as I bunched the fur coat up around my throat, letting my thigh become slowly exposed through the slit in the skirt.

Corey stood next to me, wearing a bright peach suit I’d found in the back closet of the Lair from when the drag kings came to perform. He too had sunglasses that covered his face, mirror shades that showed just how cool of a cat he was. His hair was slicked back into a tight ponytail, the end of which curled around his neck onto his shoulder. I’d found a fake goatee that the lesbians used in their drag king performances to complete his outfit. He made finger guns at the hostess and somehow was able to pull it off. He was so money, and he knew it.

Vince was next to Corey. The moment he’d seen the chaps in the dressing closet in the Lair, he’d been sold on the idea of disguises. Apparently it reminded him of
Tierra de Reyes
, the telenovela he watched with Nana and Corey. He wore the chaps over jeans, and dusty boots with spurs on the back. His belt had a large buckle on it that proclaimed him the
QUEEN OF TEXAS
. He also had a traditional serape over it, a Mexican poncho made up of greens, blues, reds, and yellows. He topped it off with an oversized sombrero and the largest fake mustache we could find in the drag king’s makeup kit, the handlebars of which curved in spirals almost four inches on either side of his face.

And last, but certainly not least, was Paul, who decided he had wanted to go full-on drag along with me, just for shits and giggles. Unfortunately for him, nothing I had fit him enough for him to be comfortable, so we’d made a pit stop at his parent’s house and he now proudly wore one of Nana’s muumuus, a great and brightly gaudy thing that Nana hadn’t even batted an eye over when we’d asked for it. It was a floral pattern, green flowers on an orange background. I’d found a wig that Vaguyna had used back when she’d been younger, a large brunette bouffant with butterfly clips on either side. The makeup we used on him was done sparingly, but still enough to feminize his face.

“O-okay,” the hostess stammered. “And what is the name the reservation is under?”

“Esteban Raymundo Moreno,” Vince said in an absolutely appalling (and most likely extraordinarily offensive) Hispanic accent. “It was the name of
mi padre
.”

“Right,” she said. “That’s good. I can take—you guys are so colorful.”

“No dice,” Corey said, smooth as silk. “Kriss Kross will make you jump.”

“I hate you guys so much,” Paul mumbled.

“I don’t know what’s happening,” she said, sounding even more nervous. “I’ll just show you to your table.”

“
Un momento
,” Vince said. “We have a…
pregunta
.”

I really hoped no one was around that understood Spanish to hear him massacring the language.

“You have a what?” the hostess asked.

“A question,” I said, stepping in, clutching my fur coat even tighter because I was
glamorous
, dammit. “There is a reservation that follows ours at two. A dear friend is coming here on a first date and has asked us to watch out for him. We would appreciate it
dearly
if you could seat them at a table near ours, but not
too
close as to cause a… distraction. The reservation is under Darren Mayne.”

She blanched. “I don’t know that I can—”

“What is your name, baby doll?” I asked.

“Tracey.”

“Tracey,” I purred. “What a lovely name. Tracey. Just… rolls right of the tongue. Now, Tracey. This is very,
very
important to me.”

“I can see that,” Tracey said. “Because you’re breathing right on my face.”

“Exactly,” I said. “I can also make it worth your while.”

I snapped once.

“God, I really fucking hate you guys so fucking much,” Paul muttered as he shuffled forward. He reached into a pocket on the muumuu and pulled out a wad of bills before handing it to Tracey.

“This is for you,” I said. “Recompense for your cooperation.”

“Wow,” Tracey said. “There’s, like, six dollars here. And a… button? No, never mind. It’s a Lifesaver.”

“No one carries cash anymore, Tracey,” I said. “Do we have a deal?”

“Sure,” she said, though I thought it was probably to get us to stop talking to her. That was fine with me.

She led us to a table in the back, near some fake plants that provided a bit of camouflage from the rest of the restaurant. I pointed at a table about ten feet away, and Tracey agreed to seat Darren and Caleb there upon arrival, while maintaining her silence. I didn’t even have to threaten her, which was nice. Six dollars and an old lady’s Lifesaver can apparently go a long way. I’d have to remember that for the future.

My phone buzzed again with yet another message as we were handed the menus. I thought about ignoring it, but curiosity got the better of me. I scrolled through the messages from last night and this morning.