So You Think I'm Fuckable, Son

She walks across the studio coquettishly, the flared hem of her jacketdancing under the bright lights with her every step. Is it myimagination, or doe... she does that on purpose? Is she taunting us withthe overly feminine detail of her outfit that tomorrow will serve toeven deepen the embarrassment of one of us?Unlike my father, I was allowed to live as a boy, and, except for thedresses I had to wear to frankly not very frequent formal visits of mymaternal grandmother, I was free to wear. When I got older and sold it all out for drugs, everyone turned their backs on me. When I was sober, I came to have two people who loved me. My aunt Cecelia and my boyfriend. I’d been lucky. So lucky.This bitch had taken them both. Left me with nothing but a fucking pill she’d planted in my purse.Or had that been Corey?It didn’t matter. Nothing mattered but survival. Fight or flight. I just had to figure out how to enter the game.My phone vibrated. I turned it off. Watched.The sun. More

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