Chimera by Stephie Walls Read Free Book Online

I apologize for yet another countless breakdown Nate has saved me from.
    As usual, he waves me off. “So tell me about this shit you’re dragging me to as your date,” he says and laughs hysterically.
    About a year after Sylvie died, the papers started reporting I was homosexual because every time I left my house, I was seen with Nate. He thought it was funny then and refers to it constantly as though it’s a running joke. I just roll my eyes at him.
    “Sera has a gallery opening. She asked me to come.”
    “Does she know you’re bringing a date?” He falls into fits of laughter again.
    “Aww fuck. Do you really think she thinks I’m bringing a date? Jesus, if she does, and I show up with you, she’s liable to believe the shit the papers had to say. And you’ll encourage that crap.”
    He’s laughing so hard at this point he can’t catch his breath.
    “It’s not funny, Nate! Dammit. What the hell should I do? I can’t go alone. You know I can’t face that crowd by myself. But I can’t take a man.”
    In between bouts of laughter, he says, “You sure can’t take another woman, asshole!”
    I resign myself to taking Nate as my plus one. If I fly without my co-pilot, I’ll absolutely crash and burn. I can explain his presence to her later. I’d rather explain this than another damn woman.
    “Fuck you. Pick me up at six-thirty. We can go grab a bite and then go to the gallery. The showing starts at seven, but we don’t need to be there until after that. Oh, and don’t dress like a damn slob, either—slacks and a decent shirt.”
    He rolls in laughter again. “For someone who doesn’t want to date me, you sure as hell just planned one. I’ll pick you up at the aforementioned time wearing my Sunday best. Will I get laid for buying you dinner and taking you to a lame-ass gallery exhibit?”
    “Nah, but at least you’ll be seen with the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” I toss a shit-eating grin in his direction.
    “I’m heading out, Bastian. You gonna be okay? Or should we have a sleepover so I can take care of you?”
    “I’m good.” Right before he gets to the door, I call out to him, “Hey, Nate?”
    “Yeah, man?”
    “Thanks.” My voice cracks with the word, but he knows what I’m talking about and just nods his response.

6
    E very night , Ferry comes back with his gang. They scurry around setting up in the kitchen, the F s dancing like sugarplum fairies in the Nutcracker . Ferry captures what he’s looking for, the crew breaks everything down, and they exit. The colors have started to fade and the smell has begun to permeate my space. A visual and sensual metaphor of my life.
    As he is getting ready to leave one night, I say, “Hey, Ferry. I won’t be here tomorrow night. I’m going to a gallery opening downtown. Do you want to come earlier, or do you want me to give you a key to get in?”
    He looks a little stunned, but the grimace quickly passes. “No worries. A key is fine. I want to continue to shoot at the same time each night.” He gathers the remainder of his things as he talks. “I’m surprised, Bastian. I haven’t seen you in the art community in quite some time.” He raises his eyebrow in question.
    I shrug, unsure of how to respond. “Yeah, I doubt I’ll stay long, but figured I’d make an appearance.”
    “Enjoy it. People will be glad to see you.”
    I can’t put a name to what I hear in his voice or the look that flashes across his face before he cloaks it in indifference. Pulling a key from my pocket, I hand it to him, and he heads out for the day.
    “See you Friday, Bastian.” I give him a tilt of the head in acknowledgment, but I don’t respond verbally.

    I feel like a damn high school kid going on my first date. I’m the gangly dork the prom queen agreed to give a pity date to. I’ve changed clothes at least five times and spent more time on my hair—which essentially looks just like it did when I got out of the shower—than I care to