Coda 02 -A to Z

with him. I told him you were just clueless.”
    That explained why Justin always seemed pissed, but I wasn’t sure being known as a dumb ass was much better.
    I stopped on the way home and picked up sushi for myself, teriyaki chicken for Angelo (because the look he gave me when I mentioned raw fish wasn’t very enthusiastic), and a small bottle of sake.
    We settled on the floor around the coffee table, and he put the movie in. It was Seven , with Brad Pitt. At least it was in color—and had Brad Pitt.
    “That was seriously disturbing,” I said when it was over. He just laughed. “Kevin Spacey kicks ass as a bad guy, doesn’t he?”
    I split the last of the sake between our cups, and then I remembered that he still had to work. “Are you going to get in trouble for drinking before your shift?”
    He shrugged. “As long as I’m not shit-faced, nobody will even know. Nobody there but me and the customers, and they don’t notice anything.”
    “Doesn’t it bother you, working so much?”
“What else am I gonna do?” he asked lightly.
“Do you have family around here?”
He hesitated a minute, then said, “No, man. No family.” “No family around here , you mean.”
    “No,” he said with just a hint of annoyance in his voice, “I mean, I got no fuckin’ family.”

    “How can that be? Are you an orphan or something?”
    “Or somethin’.” He kept staring at the TV, even though it was just credits rolling, but when he realized I was still waiting, he sighed. “My mom was Indian. Not like… from India but American Indian. She married my dad in New Mexico. She said he was Italian.”
    “And his last name was Green?” I asked skeptically.
    He gave me his lopsided smile. “Apparently. Not like I ever met the guy. All I know is, they moved to Denver before I was born. And then a year later, my dad split. And then when I six or seven, my mom left me with the neighbor, and she split too. After that it was foster homes ’til I turned sixteen and dropped out of school and started takin’ care of myself.” He looked over at me, and I was trying to not look too horrified. “It’s not a big fuckin’ deal, so don’t go all after-school-special on me, all right?”
    “Sure.” But I had to look away from him, in case my face betrayed me. My family had been stereotypically Cleaver-ish. My homosexuality was the worst thing that had ever happened to them, and even that hadn’t shaken things up too much. I couldn’t imagine growing up without their rock-solid support.
    He looked down at the cup of sake in his hand. “This shit must be stronger than I thought, if I’m tellin’ you ’bout my parents.”
    “It can sneak up on you.”
He glanced at the clock, sighed and said, “Gotta get goin’.” “Hey, Angelo?” I said just as he was going out the door. He stopped. “What?”
“You want to hang out again sometime?”
    “You think I got nothin’ better to do?” It was that impudent tone again, and I didn’t know if I should be offended or not. “It was just a thought,” I said, trying once again not to sound defensive. “Never mind.”
    “Yeah.”
“Yeah, what?”
    “Yeah, I wanna hang out again sometime.” I wondered if I would ever get used to these convoluted exchanges. “See you tomorrow, Zach.”

…Angelo
C AN ’ T believe Zach didn’t know ’bout me bein’ queer. All those
    times I was tryin’ to flirt with him, tryin’ to get his attention. Guess he just thought I was bein’ extra friendly. Talk about clueless. It makes me laugh.
    Surprises me when he invites me over. It’s cool, though. He actually wants to hang with me and isn’t just aimin’ to get laid. Can’t even remember the last time that happened. Still, not sure why I told him ’bout my parents. It’s not somethin’ I generally tell people. Hate seein’ that look on their faces—that same look Zach had—part horror and part pity. It gets old real fuckin’ fast. Zach at least did his best to not let me see it.
    He invites me over again two nights later, and we spend another night sittin’ on his livin’ room floor, watchin’ a movie and eatin’ takeout Thai food. When I leave I can’t help hopin’ he’ll ask me over again. Sure beats sittin’ at my place by myself.
    Workin’ at A to Z is a trip. First, there’s the neighbors, crazy Ruby on one side and Jeremy on the other. Ruby told me my first week ’bout a vision she had of me tryin’ to choke a chicken. Resisted the urge to