Page 24 of 12 Gays of Christmas

“Okay, so you’ve gone through five guys in the last five days. Counting today, you have seven days left to reach your goal.” He clears his throat but doesn’t say anything further, just stares at the blank board.

“Yes,” I say, prompting him to continue. Is he thinking about how pathetic I am that I need my roommate to help me find a guy? His face turns away as a red blush travels up his neck. I can’t figure out why he’s embarrassed. Unless it’s secondhand embarrassment.

Oh God. Is that it? My stomach twists and I feel sick.

Then he’s scribbling on the whiteboard and making some sort of equation that I can’t follow. At the bottom, he writes,Talked about his mom. “Let’s go over each one to figure out why it didn’t work. What’s the common denominator?”

“I don’t need a whiteboard for that. I’m the common denominator.”

He finally glances at me, his eyes scrutinizing. And I’m like that dissected frog. Pinned down. “You’re saying that you’re the reason all those guys didn’t work out?”

I wrap my arms around myself and nod, not trusting my voice.

“Can I ask a few questions? Just to ensure the data is accurate. Okay?”

I nod again.

“And I’ll need more than a head shake or hand signals.”

“Fine,” I say, rolling my eyes. “Just get on with it.”

His body tenses as if he’s bracing himself. “What I’m hearing is that none of these guys wanted to…go out again. Is that correct?”

His gaze is intense as his hand poises to write down my answers. He’s taking this so seriously. But I’m not sure how he heard that in my answer. “No.”

“How many wanted to go out with you again?”

“All of them. I mean, they all asked me out again.”

“And you said no.”

“They were just being nice. The dates were awful.”

“A possibility. Guys are assholes like that. Another way to measure…since this is your main goal. Did any of them want to sleep with you?”

I love our apartment. It’s the most comfortable place in the world. But right now? It’s a torture chamber. I hate talking about this stuff. And I really hate talking to Colin about this stuff. When I don’t answer, he turns to look at me. I take a deep breath. “Yes. And before you ask how many, all of them wanted to have sex.”

His stare continues, and I squirm in my seat. My dick is being its normal assholery self. Finally, he nods. “I concur. You are the greatest common denominator in this equation.”

Why does that hurt? It’s not like I don’t already know.

“But correlation doesn’t imply causation. The dates didn’t work out because you weren’t interested in any of them. Not the other way around.”

“You need to do the math again, dude.”

“What is the common denominator for all these guys besides you?” he asks.

“I don’t know, Colin. They’re all gay guys.”

He shakes his head and sighs. Pulling off his glasses, he pinches the bridge of his nose. Am I irritating him? Or is this frustration? He puts them back on and looks at me. “Your focus is on body types. How they look. Muscles. Jocks. The cute twink. It’s superficial. You can’t expect people to treat you as you if all you show them is this superficial side. What do you want, Gil?”

My shoulders slump. What I want is to be done with this conversation.

“I think you go out with guys who expect you to be…not smart. And you avoid guys who might challenge you on that.”

My face gets hot as I try not to think about walking down the school hallway. Carefree. Happy. Clueless. And then it all falls apart. “Thanks for your help, Colin. I think I get it now.”

“Gil.” He places his hand on my arm, and it reminds me of last night. I’d jerked off to thoughts of his hands and that kiss. Multiple times. “Talk to me. Is this about your mom?”

---