Page 58 of Sweat

I’m sorry babyface. Nothing an hour of suicides can’t fix

He’s actually insane, but he’s got me smiling again, which is exactly what I wanted. When I get home, Erica is on the sofa,dressed and watching Mav play Mario Kart. Another reason to smile. Life is good sometimes, bigoted bosses be damned.

“Got your meat,” I tell Erica as I move toward the kitchen. I unpack it on the counter, then notice Erica crossing the living room in my path. Though she’s moving around on her own more, she’s still unsteady enough to freak me out whenever she walks without assistance. I rush to her side and take her elbow, just in case.

“Thanks, little bro,” she chuckles. “Help me with dinner?”

“Of course. Where’s Ma?”

“In your room, getting a load of wash together. Hope you hid all your unmentionables.”

“She still in her mood?” I whisper in case Ma really can hear through walls. For a couple of weeks now, Ma has been unusually terse. Sometimes it’s like I’m talking to a wall the way she pretends I’m not there. Can’t think of anything I’ve done wrong. Can’t imagine she’s upset over something Erica’s done either when all she’s done is finally feel better than dying.

“Don’t worry about what you can’t change,” Erica says with a small, crooked smile.

Halfway through prepping supper, Ma storms through the kitchen, not even saying a hello to me. Just, “Whatever mess you make in here, you’re gonna clean it up. I don’t care where you’re heading off to tonight, but this kitchen better be spotless.”

“Sure, Ma,” I say over the sizzle of the meat in the skillet. I share a look with Erica, who’s chopping lettuce at the peninsula.

My pocket vibrates, so I lay down the spatula and dig out my phone.

Rowan

This guy’s dick reminds me of yours

Under, is a link from a gay porn site Rowan watches a lot of for someone who still claims not to be gay. The video heading isAxxxel Stallion Jerks Giant Cock to Explosive Orgasm.

Fucking Rowan Hughes.

“Who is she?” My sister’s voice coaxes my focus off the ridiculous video thumbnail and onto her sneaky expression.

“What?”

She nods to the phone in my hand. “Every time you look at your phone, your face gets all red and dopey.”

“Dopey?”

“Come on, Tommy. Who is she?” Erica tosses a tiny sliver of lettuce at me that only makes it half the distance between us. “You getting back together with Annalese?”

“Hell no,” I balk and shove my phone away.

“Well, who are you texting? The same girl you’re always sneaking out of here to see?”

“Sneaking out?” I laugh. “I leave through the front door. And I’ve told you. I’ve been training to make the team at school.”

“You’re training for soccer every night? Every Saturday night?” She pays me a look that says I’m full of shit, but I really am training most nights, including Saturdays. That’s not all I’m doing, but as cool as Erica has been my whole life, I’m not ready to risk altering her entire perspective of me. Especially now, when I’m finally getting her back.

I’m bought some time when Erica calls out to Mav to set the table for supper. For six, he’s pretty good at putting the plates and utensils where they belong, but he’s not quite old enough to be trusted with the glassware.

Once Erica has passed everything along to Mav to put on the table, she’s back down my throat. “So? What’s her name? Tell me!”

“It’s, uh…” I keep my eyes on the meat, stirring it while it reduces. “It’s Rowan.” I’m not good enough of a liar to think up a fake name, but I’m too cowardly to say Rowan is a guy.

“Rowan.” she parrots. “That’s a pretty name. I used to know a girl named Rowan. Wait. You’re not dating Rowan Keiner, right?”

“No.”

“Good. She’s too old for you, and kinda nuts. So, what’s your Rowan like?”

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