“It was windy that year. Terrible balloon weather,” he says. I’m having trouble mustering any enthusiasm for his story. He’s a nice guy, but I’m annoyed I’m stuck babysitting him. Hannah went to get us drinks, and has been flirting with the bartender, a tattooed guy with an Irish accent, for the past fifteen minutes. Knowing Hannah, he’s in a band. I think about abandoning Keith, but I can hear my mother’s voice in my head telling me to mind my manners and respect my elders.
While Keith continues his 1998 parade play-by-play, my gaze wanders to Theo’s half-naked body at the bar. His broad, muscular chest is tanned from two weeks in Bondi Beach earlier in the month. I’m also keeping an eye on a trio of twinks further down the bar who showed up thirty minutes ago and are also eyeing Theo appreciatively. I’m not sure if they wandered in off the street or if Theo summoned them on Grindr, but either way my window to talk to him is closing.
I need to choose my moment wisely. I don’t want to wait until the end of the night and risk either of us being drunk, but I could use some liquid courage before I’m ready to bare my soul. It’s a delicate balance.
One of the twinks gets up from his seat and heads in Theo’s direction. Fuck it. I have no choice but to be rude to Keith, plus I’m pretty sure I’ll never see him again—I’m a one-time parader—so what does it matter if he thinks I’m a jerk?
“Keith, I’m so sorry, I’ve got to go over there and talk to Theo.” I catch myself. “Wait, no, I mean Liam, about something real quick. Would that be okay?”
“Oh, you go on. I’ve been holding you captive with my silly memories for too long anyways. I should be making my way to Grand Central and getting a train home.”
Over at the bar, the twink has his hand on Theo’s forearm and points to his friends at the end of the bar. Theo waves at them.
“Your stories aren’t silly. It’s just . . .” I don’t know what to tell Keith. Hell, I might as well tell him the truth seeing as my odds of running into him again are slim to none. “I’m in love with, um, Liam,” I say, stumbling over Theo’s fake name. “The guy dressed as Santa? And I need to tell him. Right now, ideally.”
Keith’s eyes bulge out, betraying his shock. He’s probably some homophobe and now I’m in for a lecture. Instead, he says, “Did I tell you my wife and I got engaged on Christmas?” He smiles at me. Oh god, another story.
“You know what,” Keith says, “that’s a very long story and I should probably go tell it to that fellow over there.” He points to the man talking to Theo and flashes me a wink.
Keith pops up from the booth and makes a beeline to the bar. He’s sprier than he looks. He taps the man on the shoulder and launches into his story. The guy looks confused, but Keith doesn’t give him an opening to object. Meanwhile, Theo looks around, bewildered by his abandonment. He spots me sitting alone in the booth and I give him a shrug.
Is this my moment?
Theo saunters over in his red velvet pants and suspenders. He should look ridiculous, but he looks good. Really good. Meanwhile, I’m wearing a penguin costume, which was not intended for sitting. All the fabric has bunched up in my crotch. Theo plops himself down in the seat across from me.
“I’ve barely seen you all day. I miss you.” He draws out the word “miss” like he’s a balloon deflating. He’s well on his way to drunk.
“I’ve been here.”
“With another man!” He waggles his eyebrows at me. “Do I have something to worry about with you and Keith?”
I laugh, but I can’t tell if he’s flirting or making fun of me. He has a dry sense of humor, and I haven’t learned when I’m in on the joke or the butt of it.
I lock eyes with Theo, going for something between a smolder and a smize, but I don’t think I’m pulling it off. “I was hoping to get to talk to you,” I begin.
“Nothing bad, I hope?”
“No,” I reassure him. Well, that depends on how he thinks about me. Maybe this will be bad to him, having to reject yet another person in what is surely a long line of suitors. I backpedal, “Well, I don’t think it’s bad. Maybe? No.”
Theo cocks his head and squints at me, trying to figure out what’s going on. I’m already messing this up.
“Here goes,” I begin again.
Theo’s eyes light up. His lips purse into a smile.
This is good. Hannah’s right, I haven’t been as covert about my crush as I thought. Theo knows what’s coming and from the looks of it, he looks . . . excited. Maybe I was being stupid. This is Theo. This isn’t scary.
“So, you probably already know, and it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I—”
I pause when I realize Theo’s eyes aren’t meeting mine. Is there someone behind me?
I look over my shoulder toward the door. A South Asian man in a camel overcoat is striding our way. He looks like he stepped out of a magazine ad, like one minute he was brooding into middle distance with his elbow on his knee selling watches or trench coats or really expensive whiskey, and he got bored and wandered off the page. His thick black hair is mussed in an intentional way, like after a team of stylists spent hours getting it absolutely perfect, they decided to run their hands through it because no one would believe that level of perfection, but somehow messing it up made it even better. I turn back to look at Theo, who is definitely looking at this man and not at me.
Shit, shit, shit.
When the Rolex model reaches our table, Theo says, “Raj, you made it!” He sounds delighted, like Raj is the Christmas gift he begged for all year. Theo scootches out of the booth and rises to standing.
“I told you I’d come,” Raj replies as he beams at Theo with a gleaming smile. He takes off his overcoat to reveal a white dress shirt with the cuffs rolled to the elbows. He has sexy forearms, I notice as he hangs his coat on a hook at the end of the booth.
Also, who the hell is this guy?
“Raj?” Priya shouts from the bar and launches herself off her barstool and into his arms. For a second I wonder if maybe this is some never-mentioned cousin of Priya’s before realizing how totally racist that is.
“I’m Priya. I’ve heard so much about you,” she adds. There goes that theory.
Raj rests one hand possessively on Theo’s bare chest, and I feel my heart sink into my stomach.
“Finn, meet Raj,” Theo says, and they both look down at me in the booth, the sad penguin. “My new boyfriend,” he adds. As if to demonstrate the point, Theo leans in and gives Raj a searing kiss that goes on a few seconds longer than is polite in public.
Since fucking when, I want to yell. And how does Priya know about it when Hannah and I don’t? I’m suddenly very jealous of Keith, who spent the whole parade stationed between Priya and Theo. If only his chicken suit let him hear what they were saying and he could have warned me.
I’m furious. I have no right to be, but I am.
“You okay, mate?” Raj asks in a smooth British accent.
“Yeah, too much to drink,” I lie. I haven’t had a single drink. I stand and try to pick the moose knuckle the penguin costume is giving me as subtly as possible before shaking Raj’s hand.
“Pleasure,” Raj says, “I’ve heard so much about you.”
“Pri, why don’t you and Raj grab a drink. Finn was in the middle of telling me something important,” Theo says.