Mickey - The View From Here - Gallavich

Angie

Wanting to smack myself in the head, I sat on the couch in Angie's living room and released a long groan. What the fuck was wrong with me? This wasn’t going to make Ian jealous. This would only serve his theory that I’m simply afraid to come out of the closet as a gay man. I was bi and the whole coming out thing was more complex than Ian cared to understand.

No. If anything, I just made things worse, making myself look stupid in the process.

As Angie approached me, she began lifting her shirt to remove it.

“Sorry. I’m not really in the mood,” I confessed.

“Then, why are you here?” she wondered, visibly irritated.

I shook my head. I didn’t know. After apologizing a few more times, I saw myself out and trudged home to wait until I needed to go to my shift.

Soon enough, I was back at work in my SECURITY jacket while Ian tended the register in the Kash and Grab. Because it was summer and too damn hot, I cut the sleeves off of the jacket.

I was still scrambling for cash. Well, I was always scrambling for cash, but this was somehow more urgent than even the heating bill in winter. If I hoped to stand a chance of keeping Ian in my life, I needed to give him something special.

Hoping to save some time and double my income, I decided to deal weed and coke out of the store. I had a great plan for it. The customer walks in, buys gum or something like that, gives Ian the money for the gum and the drugs, and I place their order, concealed in an empty coffee cup into the trash I moved next to the cash register. It could have worked.

My customers didn’t catch on quickly, making me look like an amateur and pissing Ian off.

“Just get out,” Ian ordered one of my customers before I could complete the deal. “You need whatever brain cells you got left.”

After I watched $80 walk out of the store, I asked Ian, “why you gotta mess with my business?”

“Why do you gotta do your business in my store?” he countered, sounding more like my boss than a fuckbuddy.

“This ain’t your store,” I chuckled. “It's Linda's store.”

“Whatever. Get smarter customers,” he warned, “’cause I’m not going down for this shit.”

“Oh, okay,” I replied as Ian rounded the counter to my side. “So, uh, whatcha going down for, then, huh?” I wondered flirtatiously.

Ian flashed the tiniest of smiles, unamused.

I thought it was funny. With a wide grin, I turned away to grab a drink.

Hesitantly, Ian followed and wondered, “hey, did you really fuck Angie Zahgo today?”

“Yeah, I fucked Angie,” I lied. “Everybody fucks Angie. You don’t fuck Angie?”

What the fuck is wrong with me? Did I forget how to speak while I was in jail? Why the fuck did I just say that?

“No.”

“Huh.” Stop talking, Mickey, I thought as I cracked open a beer. “You wanna fuck Angie? I could call and get her down here.”

The more I panicked, the worse the things I said were.

“No,” Ian repeated, only he wasn’t hesitant anymore.

I think I made him hate me.

Acting like this conversation wasn’t a big deal, I took a sip from the beer I’d grabbed and walked back to the front of the store.

About an hour later, I could feel Ian watching me while I made a more direct deal across the room.

When an older man in his 50s or early 60s walked into the store wearing an expensive-looking casual suit, my first thought was to give one of my brothers a call to come boost the nice car this guy drove here in. He was from the north side, anyone could tell. If I didn’t rob him, somebody else would. That was really all I thought until Ian asked the Northsider what he was doing here.

The Northsider plucked a random bag of chips from the shelf and tossed it onto the counter in front of Ian. “I was hungry.”

“So you drove all the way to the Southside for a bag of chips?” Ian stated more than asked.

By now, I was finished with my deal and the Northsider had my complete attention.

“Well, a bag of chips and a gingersnap. I’m hoping,” the Northsider said as he paid Ian for the chips. “Keep the change.”

Gingersnap?

“I’m working,” Ian told the Northsider.

“Well,” he replied with disappointment while I made my way to the front entrance. “Maybe later. Happy hour at the Fountain?”

Ian thought about it. “Yeah. Okay,” he agreed.

What the fuck is this?

“Okay,” the Northsider beamed, satisfied that his journey to the Southside hadn’t been for nothing.

I was waiting in his way at the door. “You got a receipt?”

With a smirk, Ian printed the receipt and handed it to the Northsider.

He showed it to me and reluctantly, I stepped aside. I studied him as he glanced back at Ian and I felt myself freeze.

This was the guy. The doctor. Ian's boyfriend and upgrade from me.

Trying not to lose my shit, I hooked my thumb after him and asked Ian, “that your grandpa?”

“No, just a guy I’ve been seeing,” Gallagher replied smugly.

“Oh,” I said, scratching my head as I contemplated how I would castrate the Northsider. “That’s the guy you, uh, you been seeing?”

With his arms crossed over his chest, Ian simply stared at me.

“You guys, like picnic together, or gonna get a little dog with a fuckin’ sweater?”

“No. We don’t picnic. We mostly just fuck,” Ian informed me with pride before adding, “like you and Angie.”

I think I deserve that, I thought as Ian walked away to be alone.