Read Pisces: From Behind That Locked Door for Free Online Page B

to just talk to Stephen about everything. It didn't feel like any topic was off-limits, and they let the conversation drift wherever it wanted to go, from the slightly surreal to the downright personal. Stephen explained that he'd always known he was gay, that both of his parents were gay but had married each other anyway and had two kids. He talked about the strangeness of his parents' home life and how much of a relief it was when they finally decided to be honest about their feelings and divorce. Stephen talked about his favorite topics in school, his least favorite movies--he claimed you learned more about a person by what they didn't like--and the summer he spent following the New Pornographers.
    Jay lost himself for twenty minutes while he explained the research he'd already started in anticipation of his dissertation, excited to share with somebody who actually seemed interested. He told Stephen stories of his more colorful and bewildering students, gave Stephen a list of his favorite movies because he didn't even bother to remember the ones he didn't like, and eventually admitted he'd never had a serious relationship. He didn't go as far as confessing that he'd never had sex or been kissed, either, but Stephen might have caught on to that fact. The scary thing was, Jay felt like he could literally tell Stephen any thought, any feeling, any deep dark secret, and trust the other man with that knowledge. He knew it wasn't necessarily because Stephen was interested in these things, but he did a good job of acting interested, of listening, of asking questions to prompt Jay to continue.
    They were discussing where to get dessert when Stephen's phone rang. Stephen ignored it and continued his soliloquy on why pie was superior to cake. The phone beeped to signal a new voice mail, and then started ringing again.
    "I'm sorry," Stephen said. "I know it's really rude, but I have to take this."
    "That's fine."
    Stephen pushed talk and brought phone up to his ear, his face instantly transforming. Jay couldn't put his finger on any one change, but he looked different. More professional. Jay didn't have time to figure out how or why this change happened before Stephen said, "Hey, Jeni."
    And Jay knew it wasn't some other girl. It wasn't some Jenny or Jennifer or anything like that. It was Jeni, and Stephen was talking to her like they knew each other well. He closed his ears, not wanting to hear another second of the conversation, and stared at his salmon nigiri like there was a good chance it would march right off his plate. He wasn't so egomaniacal or self-centered that he thought Jeni called specifically to talk about him, but she'd already promised she would ask Stephen about him, and she had no way of knowing that Stephen was actually at lunch with him.
    He must have done something absolutely wretched in a previous life to be cursed with Jeni now. There was no way somebody could just randomly make his life this miserable. There had to be a purpose behind it, reason behind it, and since Jay had never wronged Jeni in this life, that was the only reasonable explanation. Well, there was one other, he supposed. His weight was so very offensive to her that she had a primal need to destroy the object creating the distress.
    Stephen laughed at something she said, and the sound that had been so welcome before now grated on his frayed nerves. Oh, yes, Jeni was a laugh riot. A real shining example of wit. Oscar Wilde himself would kneel at her feet after hearing just one of her hilarious zingers. Maybe his earlier assumptions were both incorrect. Maybe Jeni wasn't a curse or offended by the sight of Jay. Maybe she was just a comedian in need of a punchline, and Jay fit the bill perfectly. And now they had a mutual acquaintance in Jay. Ho, ho how delightful. How droll.
    Jay just wanted to make his escape and go home. Where Amy was waiting with bated breath to tell him all about her wonderful, fun night with Jeni.
    "Sorry about that," Stephen