Coda 02 -A to Z

word, and I knew that subject was closed. Before I could say anything else, the door opened and Tom walked in. I wasn’t really sure what I felt when I saw him. Part of me just wanted to end things with him, but there was still a part of me that wanted him too.
    “Hey, baby.” Tom kissed me on the cheek, and Angelo turned his back on us, but not before I saw the look of hatred on his face. “Come in back with me?” Tom asked.
    Another blow job in the office? Not today. “I’m pretty busy right now.” That was obviously a lie, but so what?

    “Okay.” He looked a little bit amused but didn’t argue. “Can I see you this weekend?”

    “I’m going out of town for the weekend.” It felt ridiculously good to say that to him.
    He looked surprised. “Where you going?”
“To Folk Fest, in Lyons.”
    His face lit up. “Really? I’ve always thought that sounded like fun. Want some company?”
    I was surprised to realize that my gut response was to say no. But part of me was flattered that he wanted to go away with me for the weekend. A whole weekend together—I pictured us shopping the vendors, holding hands, sharing ice cream, making love. I did want that. I wanted us to be a real couple.
    “I’ll be camping. Are you willing to sleep on the ground?”
    “For you? Of course.” He stepped up to me and put an arm around my waist. “Can I see you tonight? I can come by around nine.”
    “I guess.”
“Good. I’ve been missing you.”
    He left a few minutes later. As soon as the door closed behind him, Angelo rounded on me. “Are you stupid or somethin’?” he asked angrily.
    “What’s that supposed to mean?”

    He shook his head and turned away. “That guy don’t care ’bout you. He’s just usin’ you and you keep lettin’ him.” “You don’t know that.”

    “Yes I do, Zach,” he said matter-of-factly. “Don’t go to the festival with him. You’ll end up regrettin’ it.”

    I was trying not to sound as defensive as I felt. “Maybe a weekend away will be good for us.”

    He snorted. “Good for him, you mean. He’ll get his knob polished, and you’ll get nothin’.”

    “Can you give me some credit, Angelo? I’m not that stupid.”
    “Looks like you are to me.” I didn’t say anything, but his words hurt me more than I would have expected. I turned my back on him, so he wouldn’t see it on my face, and a minute later he said, grudgingly, “Sorry.”
    “I’d still like for you to come,” I said quietly.

    “No fuckin’ way. Not if he’s goin’.” His voice was gentler now. “I’ll cover the store so you don’t have to close.”

    “Are you still coming over tonight?” I knew he would leave before Tom showed up. If he showed up.

    “Sure. I got the perfect movie picked out.”

    The “perfect movie” ended up being American Beauty . “I don’t get it,” I said at the end.
    “It’s about desire. Sometimes what you think you want isn’t what you really want.” He glanced over at me, and a blush started to creep up his cheeks, but he kept talking. “See, the cheerleader just wants to be wanted. And the daughter wants to be loved for who she is. But Kevin Spacey, that’s who you should think about. ’Cause he thinks he wants his wife to respect him, but what he really wants is to respect himself. And he thinks he wants the cheerleader, ’cause of who he thinks she is. But then he finds out she’s not what he thought, and that means what he wanted wasn’t real, either.”
    I was impressed. I hadn’t realized he was going for specific themes. “Trying to tell me something, Angelo?” I asked lightly. He didn’t answer. He finished his beer and sat looking down at the empty bottle in his hand.
    “How old are you, Ang?”
He looked up at me in surprise. “Twenty-seven.”
    That was actually older than I thought he was, and I realized it was the fact that he seemed to not have to shave that made him look younger than he was. Still seven years younger than me. It seemed like a long time since I had been twenty-seven. He had been supporting himself for more than ten years. I thought back to when I was his age—I had only been a few years out of college.
    “Stop it,” Angelo said reprovingly.
“Stop what?”
“Thinkin’ that I’m so young and you’re so old.”
    I had to laugh at how he magically seemed to know what I was thinking. “I specifically remember you making a reference to my ‘long, lost youth’.”
    His eyes met mine and