Page 95 of Sweat

Don’t tease me. I gotta submit this fcking paper before I can jerk off to the vid you’ll send me

Oh, he’s one to talk about teasing. The motherfucker pushes my buttons like I’m a slot machine. Now I understand why Lese was always so disappointed in me. The way I am with Rowan is how she wanted me to be with her. Obsessed.

And then there’s Eve…

Eve

When u get here u can help me decide if I should get my nipples pierced

Great. Now I’m just picturing Rowan with pierced nipples and it’s not making studying any easier.

Fuck this.

It takes five minutes of typing, deleting and retyping before I hit send on a rejection message to Eve.

Me

Sorry, studying. Don’t really have time for girls atm. Lots going on

Just when I think I’ve done the diplomatic thing, I get an unsettling response.

Eve

Lol too busy sucking Rowan’s dick u mean

What of it?But I can’t fall into the trap. I can’t out Rowan. I can’t out myself in a catty DM to a girl I don’t give a shit about.

Me

Not even but ok

Eve

Bye homo

What the fuck?

“Tommy?”

I look away from my phone at the sound of Mav’s little voice.

“Hey, bud,” I say as Mav climbs up onto my bed. I’m on my stomach, textbook open, pen lying idle on my notepad. I click my phone screen off while Mav climbs onto myback like I’m a jungle gym, his boney knees digging into the knots Rowan had rubbed so well that one night. “Ouch. Careful.”

“Sorry.” He plops his butt on the center of my back, forcing the air from my lungs.

“I’m not a bench,” I choke out.

Mav giggles and slides off me, planting himself on the vacant side of my double bed. There’s a picture book in his hands that he opens and picks at the page corners. When he says my name like a question again, I assume he’s about to ask me to read to him. Instead, he asks, “What’s gay mean?”

“Uhh, why are you asking?”

“You said to Mommy you’re gay.”

My head snaps toward my open bedroom door, and I pray the living room TV is loud enough that Ma didn’t overhear. In a whisper, I tell Mav he doesn’t need to worry about that now.

“Does it mean you’re sick like Mommy?” he asks, pouting like he could cry.

“No, no, no. I’m not sick. I’m fine, buddy.”

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