...the A3200 - May

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"...okay, so I'm on break and I just have to ask," I whisper, pushing myself into the back corner. "What are you?" Like, I've wanted to know that for a while. He's with me. But he had a girlfriend. What's his deal?

I mean, you could argue that he didn't really have a girlfriend because he's that dumb to actually get one.

That's actually kinda mean of me to say.

But still.

Murph hums on the other end. "I'm a Gemini."

WELL, THIS WAS FUN. "No, I mean, like..." I sigh. "Hold on. You're not one of those people who read horoscopes in the paper, are you?"

"No," he says. "When have I ever talked about being a Gemini with you? 'Haha, I'm sorry I'm so catty right now I'm a Gemini and my moon's in...Saturn'. Like, no. You're just being a bitch."

I laugh. Well, cackle, more like.

"Quiet. You're disrupting the luncheon."

I jump. My coworker is hauling a crate of wine to the bar on the other side of the wall.

I whisper my apology. "But what are you?"

"...I'm human."

Oh my God. "No. Are you gay? Bi? What?"

"Oh." He pauses. "I think I'm just Tommysexual."

"Okay, I'm going to murder you."

Murph laughs. "I'm serious. Do you really think I pay attention to what kind of genitals the person I like has? No. I like them for them." He pauses. "Though you're the exception."

That's piqued my interest. "Oh?"

"Mhm. Ergo...Tommysexual."

"Doesn't answer my question."

He hums again, and leans back in his desk chair. I know it's his desk chair because it squeaks like it's about to break. "Most people, I think they're nice...or funny...or, just...pretty. Nice to look at." He pauses.

"So I am just a hot piece of ass to you?"

Murph chokes. "N-no! You're not!"

"Calm down. I was kidding."

"Oh."

"Keep going, luv."

"Oh." He pauses. "Okay, so...most of the time...and keep in mind I've had a chance to reflect on psychology, sexuality, my life, and whatnot - "

"Naturally."

" – but, most of the time, they were, like, wish fulfillment. Does that make sense?" He doesn't let me answer. He keeps going. "I said that, if you hadn't done that thing in York, I would've gone back to America and, just, forgotten about you. That's the truth; I would've." Murph sighs. "But you stuck around. And, and I'm grateful that you didn't leave when I said I like you at the British Museum."

"You shouted it."

Murph grumbles. "Or when I made it weird."

"You never made it weird, mate. If anything, I made it weird."

He harrumphs. "But yeah. I, uh..." He swallows. "I'm...grateful for it. You're special, Tommy. And I love that about you." Murph inhales, and I know he wants to say something.

"What?"

Murph, breathless, chuckles. "It's nothing."

"What?"

"I just..." He pauses, and exhales.

Okay, now he's bothering me. "What?"

"I just..." I can tell he's fidgeting. He has that kind of squirmingness in his voice. "I love you, Tommy." And then he goes rapid fire - "And, and I know you're probably not ready to say it back to me. Or, or maybe you feel differently; I don't know. And it isn't like a 'you're my best friend i love you bro' even though you are but - "

I roll my eyes. "Stop talking."

"Okay," he whispers. Except he keeps going. "But yeah, I know you probably don't feel the same way but - "

"What the hell did I just say?" I'm imagining him flustered and red in the face, his chest hurting and his breath, just, all over the goddamn place.

It's cute.

"But Tommy - "

"I love you, too, dummy."

Okay, now I'm sure what I imagined him as is true.

Murph squeals. Actually squeals. It hurts my ears.

My chest hurts. I'm biting the inside of my cheek. He isn't saying anything, and that's what I'm worried about.

"Say something, Murph."

He squeals again. And then gasps. Like he's just taken his first breath of air in twenty minutes. "What?" he croaks.

I sigh. "...didn't you see it? I talk to you constantly, you're the only person I can talk to for hours on end, we're planning my next visit already, and I'm, like, smiley around you?"

"I just thought that I was being funny or something."

"Nah, mate. I just really like you or some shit."

Murph groans. Or gasps. Or...neighs? I don't fucking know what sound it is. "AUNT CAITLIN! HE SAID HE LOVES ME!"

Oh my God I officially rescind my saying that. "Murph - "

"I CAN'T HELP IT." I can tell he's wheezing. "YOU LOVE ME. WHEN THE FUCK DID THIS HAPPEN? Also question: what's your astrological sign?"

I inhale. "...I don't fuckin' know."

I'm a Libra.

Murph finds it out for me, and then spends the rest my break telling me about my "characteristics".

It's total bullshit. But he's entertained. So I don't stop him.

Until my break ends. "Well, congratulations, Murph. You just wasted fourty-five minutes telling me about being a Leo."

"Libra."

"You know what?"

He laughs. "I love you, Tommy."

"Okay."

"I love you, Tommy."

"Okay, great. I haveta get back to work now."

"I love you, Tommy." He says it in a way that I can tell he's breathless. Giddy. Possibly dancing around his bedroom.

"I love you, too, nerd. Now I gotta go."

"Tell me about work when you're out, okay?"

I frown. "I get out late. Like, eight at night."

"I'll stay up," he says firmly. "And I'm not taking no for an answer." Murph is smiling. I can definitely hear it.

"Fine, fine," I sigh. "I'll talk to you later then, okay?"

"Okay."

I linger. I just wanna say it again. "I love you."

Murph makes a sound. I don't know what it is. But it's so fucking cute.

And then I hear the call end, and I check to make sure my phone's okay. It is. Murph must've just hung up on me.

Inhaling, I push back towards the restaurant and go back towards thebar.

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