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    BDANR
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Under the Guise - 6. The Fallout

Warning: This chapter discusses STI's and STD's pretty extensively.

“Are you sure you want us to be around for this?” asked Loren.

“No, but you’re here now,” I said.

“I can’t believe you’ve been going around with your junk on fire all this time,” said PJ without any tact as usual. “I don’t know how you do it. I don’t know how I’d do it.”

I scoffed. It had already been a few days since I’d seen the nurse. He said he would need to do some tests, having drawn my blood and taken my urine. I couldn’t believe this was a thing that others had to do when they get checked out. It felt invasive, and I couldn’t rid myself of the shame.

“Have you had these symptoms before?”

“How long have you been experiencing this discomfort?”

“Have you had sex with a new partner recently?”

Did he need to know all this? Of course, he did. Otherwise, I would be wasting my time and his. He told me what to expect, whether it’s a UTI or STD/STI, told me I’m not the first one who came to the Nurse’s Office with this complaint and that there wasn’t anything to be ashamed about. He said I likely didn’t have anything to worry about if we caught it early, but his attempt to soothe me fell short.

I didn’t ask Loren or PJ to come to the appointment for the sake of privacy, but I wasn’t about to face whatever was coming to me alone.

“Whatever the outcome,” Loren said, “we’ll get through it.”

The nurse told me to expect results today, and I found an email from the office this morning. They tried to call, but I couldn’t, or I should say wouldn’t, answer my phone. None of this was a good sign.

I opened the email that led me to this patient portal. My test results were in one of those links. My hands were shaking.

Then I clicked it.

I hadn’t eaten anything that day, could barely take sips of juice, water, or coffee. And the nothingness that was in my stomach came bubbling up and bursting out of my mouth in the shared shower room bathroom stall. I dry heaved for some unknown period of time. Keeping track of anything was out of my control.

When I returned to my dorm room, PJ and Loren looked at me with worried expressions. A mirror was beside me and I could see my eyes bloodshot. Was I crying? Before I knew it, the two were at my side, holding me up before I crumbled to the floor.

________________________

 

Gonorrhea. It was a word that I poked fun at, thinking it was something that only promiscuous people get as nature’s joke on them for their sexual proclivities. Chlamydia, syphilis, even HIV when I am at my most ignorant and callous, were all just that to me. Jokes. I sat and laughed at others for being on the receiving end of these diseases and told myself I’d never be positive for an STI or STD. Ever. Now, nature was saying the joke’s on me, payment for my naivety.

Loren and PJ hung out in my room as I slept. I woke up with my eyes dry, my pillow damp, and a bad headache.

“Hey you,” said Loren.

My first thought was to tell them to get the fuck out of my room. Let me have time to bask in my own self-pity. But, this was the worst time to push them away, especially when I was the one who asked that they come.

I said, “Hey,” without any feeling at all. I tried sitting up in the bed and looking at them. “I don’t know why you two are still here.”

They both looked at one another, seeming bewildered.

“You two told me from the very beginning not to have this affair. And I know you had a change of heart about this PJ, but you know what, you were right! You were right from the start. I shouldn’t have trusted a married man, let alone sleep with him. I had a chance to stop this before it got to this point. But I kept going to him like I shouldn’t have expected I would be bitten in the ass. This is all my fault.”

“You didn’t give yourself gonorrhea,” Loren said. “Were you with anyone other than Lex?”

“Of course I wasn’t!”

“Then you have your answer! Lex gave you gonorrhea. He’s the one who wasn’t being honest. I’m not saying that sleeping with him was the best decision on your part, but you aren’t responsible for getting an STI.”

“Yeah,” said PJ, as he placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry if I didn’t give you the best advice, you know, telling you to live and let live. But, I’m not gonna blame you for getting infected by that bastard. Man, if I saw that dude in front of me right now…”

It was odd seeing these two be supportive. I was being an ass and swiping away their suggestions to me, even if they were only looking out for my wellbeing. We poked fun and teased each other, but I knew they had my back, Iike they do now. Having their support was comforting, but I knew in the back of my head that there was still unfinished business needing to be taken care of.

“Thanks you two,” I said, lifting myself from the bed and heading to the door. “This means a lot, trust me. But I think I need to take off.”

“Need a walk?” PJ asked as the two both got up, ready to follow me to the door.

“More than that. But I need to do it alone.”

____________________________

 

This must be a cliche. A scorned lover or partner that arrives unexpectedly at the doorway of someone who did wrong by them, ready to have a full-out screaming match on the front lawn with the entire public around to see. In some ways, I could understand the reasoning, the lack of control. It made the screamer seem irrational by outsiders, but did the onlookers know what that person held in them for so long? The betrayal they must’ve felt? Betrayal was certainly one of many things going on inside me, and waiting for a damn response by email or phone call wasn’t going to cut it. I could’ve slashed his tires, broke his windows, or left burning shit in front of his door. But none of this seemed right. I wanted to handle this with my words.

I approached the front door of Lex’s home and gave it a ring. I knew he was around at this time during the day. I knocked hard on the door when I didn’t get a response from a ring. He had nothing else going on. I could stand out here knocking incessantly at his door and calling out his name all day for all I care. My belief in this man and who he said he was is gone.

Just as I was ready to pound on it again, it was opened. But the person who answered wasn’t Lex.

“Hello,” the woman said. “What can I do for you?”

My mouth was opened, and I tried hard to swallow. The smell of a home-cooked meal came from the doorway, and the urge to regurgitate came over me. I hoped she didn’t pick up on my shock and nausea.

I said, “May I please see-”

“Hey, honey, who’s outside?”

And there he was, the man of the hour. After kissing this woman on the head, his expression mirrored my own: Shock, worry, dread. But that was where the similarities ended. I saw how he touched and caressed this woman, held her to him. This was Ella, his wife.

She had a warm face, inviting, but not without reservation. I was a stranger to her after all. She had long, straight blonde hair that flowed down in front of her, just over her left chest. She was wearing a magenta-colored tunic and black, wide-legged flowy bohemian pants that looked so comfortable. All of this, while holding her extended stomach, and my dread took on a new form that was unbearable to process.

“Do you know this young man?” she asked Lex while giving me a subdued smile. “This must be the intern Martha was telling me about.”

Lex gave an exhale. “Yeah, yeah this is him. I can introduce you two if-”

“Wait no, please,” I said. The wife had a look of mild surprise on her face. As for Lex, if looks could kill. “I want to talk to you alone. I’m kind of in a rush.”

Ella seemed to understand and said no more. She patted Lex on the arm and ventured off somewhere in the house while Lex made sure the front door was closed before coming outside.

Lex said, “You know you’re supposed to tell me before you come over-”

“We should find somewhere private. I don’t think you want to have this conversation here.”

He seemed ready to protest but relented. Maybe he realized I had the upper hand here, his wife being present. He gave me the signal to lead the way and I walked over to the car that was parked in the driveway. It was nearing evening and a dark shadow was cast over the neighborhood by dark clouds. A man walking by on the sidewalk and waved to us, but Lex and I showed no enthusiasm when we returned the greeting.

“I think we should speak in here if you want the privacy.” He nodded and we sat in his car.

I was infuriated with him, so many things I wanted to say but couldn’t find the words for. How does anyone have a conversation like this? It wasn’t only a matter of ending this tryst. There was so much more and no way to start.

“Lex, I-”

“Can I say that this completely irresponsible of you,” he began.

My throat started squeezing close. “What? Lex-”

“Listen, I’ve given you a simple request. I said to contact me before you come to my house. My wife is here! Did you even think of how dangerous this could be? What harm you could do to my family? I thought you understood that.”

I was being scolded. It took me a second to realize that he was lecturing me, making me sorry for making this trip. And I almost believed that I was in the wrong, that there was a time and place for this, that I could’ve given him a heads up. I must’ve looked like some inconsiderate, thoughtless college boy in his eyes.

“You-” My words were caught inside me again and my fists were balled up, held towards me in the hope they wouldn’t be tempted to throw themselves at him. “You-you’ve got some fucking nerve, asshole!”

I said the words without even thinking. My face felt hot. Lex flinched, but he didn’t come off as being alarmed by my anger. He was like a spectator, as though this expression of raw emotion had nothing to do with him.

“Where is this coming from?”

“Lex, y-you -” Tears were welling up in my eyes, even as I tried hard not to let them fall. Why did I have to cry and why did I have to cry in front of him? “You gave me gonorrhea!”

He had no reaction. He kept looking at me, analyzing, almost detached from the situation completely.

“What? The-there’s no way.”

“What do you mean ‘there’s no way?’ I didn’t give it to myself.”

“Hmm.” He rubbed his chin in contemplation and I sensed my rage building. “Were you sleeping with anyone else? I mean, could you have forgotten some encounter you had or-”

“NO!” He stopped speaking. “No, I didn’t sleep with anyone else. You’re the only one I’ve slept with.”

He frowned and shook his head some. “Was I your first?”

“No...I had slept with someone before, but it was a long time ago.”

“But did you get tested?”

“Yes. I took the test then and I took another one only a few days ago. You’re the only one.”

He paused for a bit, looking toward his garage. There was a stillness in the air and the car became warmer the longer we sat there. Then, I heard laughter. It was a laugh I tried hard to understand, like where it came from, what triggered it. Nothing about this was funny, so why the hell was he laughing?

“Okay, so you have ‘gonorrhea’,” he said, using finger quotes as though my being infected was some made-up fairy tale. “Kid, I don’t have any symptoms. Don’t you think I would’ve noticed by now if I had something? Hell, if the shoe had been on the other foot, I’d have confronted you with the same news long before this! I don’t know what you’re trying to hide but-”

“Lex,” I interrupted him, calmly. Something was becoming clear to me. I had a feeling that I was about to shatter this man in a way he never saw coming.

“Here’s a thing about STIs; they don’t affect everyone the same way. Some people get symptoms, like me, even after being infected for a short time. But you know what? A lot of us don’t. This happens a lot more than you think. So, people who are infected carry it on them for days, even weeks at a time, and they don’t even have a clue that they’re unwittingly sharing it with everyone that they have sex with. I told you I haven’t slept with anyone else, and I meant it. So what do you think that means?”

Lex’s eyes never wandered from me. He gave a short, forced laugh with a hint of a smile still on his face.

“This - this is unbelievable.”

“I don’t care if you slept with other men, or women for that matter. I was sleeping with a married man and I should’ve known better than to believe you when you said I was the only one. But I didn’t come here because of that. I think you need to get tested, and, if you’ve been intimate, so does your wife.”

After uttering those last words, the smirks, the laughter, the condescending smiles, had vanished. Finally, he didn’t treat this like we were on a prank television show.

“What did you say?”

“You can act as if all this has nothing to do with you, but you forgot something. We’ve slept with each other without condoms, more than once. And if you’ve been sleeping with your wife-”

“I DON’T HAVE ANYTHING!!!” He screamed. My eyes flew open. There it was, the man that Lex kept hidden inside him, forced to keep bottled up after my demand that he never yells at me like that. The way he spoke to his staff, that wasn’t behavior he exhibited with only subordinates. I bet he thought he had permission to speak to anyone this way no matter who they were. Entitled, the word of the fucking day. He wouldn’t even admit that he infected me. And now, there was no stopping him from holding back and being as ruthless as I had always known him to be.

“Listen you fucking faggot. I don’t know what you think you’re trying to do, but I suggest you think twice about ever coming around here again with this shit or we’re going to have some serious issues.”

“You don’t have to worry about me coming back,” I told him, unexpectedly more bold than I expected. “After this, you won’t ever see me again. But what I’m not going to do is allow you to throw this under the rug. You have a wife, and you have a child on the way-”

“I know that!”

“Then you know what you need to do! If you don’t tell Ella, I will.”

It took only a matter of seconds, and my shirt was yanked towards him hard. He was staring me right in the face with wide eyes. His face was beet red, and his shallow, quick breaths blew onto my face. He was shaking all over, lips, face, hands.

“You promised you wouldn’t tell her any of this! if you tell Ella shit, I’ll-”

I was afraid. It was hard to believe that I had once kissed this man, let him inside me as he let me inside him. He told me the well-kept secret that was his sexuality, something he was forced to keep hidden from everyone he knew. We slept on the same bed together, where we cuddled and caressed. There was a wrongness about this, all of this, and yet, I still had those memories come to mind, even as he said these wild threats.

“You have to tell her,” I said, stuttering unintentionally.

He pushed me away from him and my head and arm hit the side door. It was painful. I massaged them both and looked at him with outrage, disgust, amazed he’d ever hurt me like this. But there was nothing I could say. Lex wasn’t even looking at me anymore. I heard a low sob as his hands cradled his face. And what started low became a wail. His face was on the steering wheel. I’d never seen an adult cry like this. There was a break in the clouds and everything outside started gaining its color again. And I sat there, unable to move as this man crumbled before me.

__________________

 

The Masquerade party was here. The nightmare that was yesterday was still fresh in my mind. It had been a little over twenty-four hours since Lex and I split ways and all I wanted to do was set up camp in our dorm basement and never leave. As relieved as I was to understand what my body was going through and to finally get treatment, I still missed what Lex and I had in some messed up way, and my mind couldn’t turn away from the thought of his wife and their child. He screwed all of us without even thinking of the ways our lives could be altered, even destroyed.

My incessant thinking of the situation saddened me, but PJ and Loren didn’t think I should be hiding away in shame.

“It’s out of your hands now,” said PJ shrugging.

Loren said, “I’m sure this was hard, but you did the right thing.”

These goofballs and I took a quick trip to the thrift store near the school to buy our masks, got dressed in Loren’s dorm, despite the annoyance of her roommate, and we were on our way. We cleaned up nice: Loren had on a nice, white gold prom-like dress with a golden and black mask to compliment the look. PJ had on a grey vest over a red suit shirt and grey slacks with a silver and red jester mask. We couldn’t go without Loren lecturing him on straight people invading gay spaces and how this can only be a “one-time thing.” I dressed up relatively more modest, with a short sleeve, black collared shirt, raisin-colored bow and mask, and black slacks.

Fortunately, the Masquerade Party took place in one of the large, dining halls in the Student Center as opposed to the LGBQA meeting room. This must’ve always been a heavily attended event, even better that we have one of the most spacious and decorative spaces on campus to celebrate in. Lavender, black, and silver colored the room: lavender table spreads, silver decorations, black napkins.

All the queer and trans students came around for the fun, decked out and ready to party. I saw the regulars: Ms. Dawn the president with her mermaid-like ocean blue dress, matching lipstick, and, now black, crew cut. Mr. Preston turned heads with his fabulous tuxedo and silver mask. I was overwhelmed by it all, trying to psyche myself out of my head.

“Look at all the gays!” Loren said excitingly. “Let’s look sharp: We might find our future wives and husbands here. And that doesn’t include you, PJ!”

Already the music was playing, and the YMCA song was playing on the speakers. Some were already on the dance floor, and you can notice the ones who had a bit too much to drink looking a little sloppy. I could’ve sworn I saw someone with a flask. I wish I knew them, a swig or two wouldn’t have been so bad…

“Oh my gosh, it’s her!” PJ pointed out the Megan Fox look-alike from the fair, wearing a ruby red sleeveless dress. “I didn’t know she was-”

“Move over, buddy. She’s one of ours.” Loren lifted up her dress and gave a sexy strut over to the sorority girl.

PJ looked at me. “It’s not even fair, dude…”

PJ and I looked for a table to hang out at for a second. It looked to be a fun night without too many surprises. My biggest shock would be at the table we found, where I’d find Faux Justin Beiber. I was surprised to see him, though I shouldn’t have been. As I approached though, I noticed him talking to another guy, a gorgeous one at that. He had ochre skin, with an olive green suit shirt, nice pecs that bulged from his shirt. I thought I was out of his league, I can’t compete with a jock! To avoid embarrassment, I nearly avoided the table altogether.

PJ said “I thought we were going to sit here? Isn’t that the guy with the bangs?”

I looked at PJ and shrugged. “Yeah, but it looks like he already has a date.” This sucked hard. I wasted my time getting banged by a married man, waving away Faux Justin Beiber’s advances, and on top of all that, taking meds for “the clap.” Now, I’m realizing what I had been missing and what I’ve could’ve had. Can’t say I didn’t deserve this, it’s not like he was mine to claim.

“You came!” I turned around and there he was in front of me. Modest as always, dressed in a black suit shirt and white-colored bow tie. “Looks like we’re matching too,” he said, pointing to his bow tie. Damn, he’s so adorable…

“We are. Did you come with somebody?” I tried scanning for the jock to see if he was around, and I realized he’d disappeared.

“I did. Have you met, Dale? He’s one of my friends from Art class! Looks like he’s talking to your friend as well.” I was confused by what he meant, till I turned and saw PJ conversing with who I assumed to be Dale, the jock I saw Faux Justin Beiber speaking to earlier.

Faux Justin Beiber nudged me in the shoulder. “I think he likes your friend.” Dale was in for a surprise then. No wonder Loren told PJ to keep low key. He’s going to break a lot of hearts.

Then, a booming voice filled the room, and it was Whitney Houston’s “I Wanna Dance With Somebody.” Everyone went wild.

Faux Justin Bieber looked at me with those baby eyes again. “Thank you again for helping me after my little spill at the LGBTQA meeting. I was wondering if you wanted to dance?”

It was like asking me to help him fly to the moon. “I… can’t dance.”

His mouth opened in surprise, but then changed into a gracious smile. “I can show you.” This guy seemed to surprise me at every turn. He’s got a tattoo, has a subtle amount of confidence about him that I never gave him credit for, and now he’s telling me he could dance. How could I say no? I gave him a nod, and he grabbed my hand, leading me to the dance floor. He was fun to dance with, doing all this footwork and moving his hands and arms in fun directions. I couldn’t stop laughing and trying to follow. Loren and the sorority girl were trying out 70s disco dance moves that they probably learned from their parents. Dawn and Preston were the badasses with their impressive handle of jerkin’ and shuffling dances. Even PJ had some fun with Dale doing some Kid n’ Play dance from House Party. Every worry seemed to fade away with the music and laughter that surrounded me. This couldn’t have been a better night.

 

_________________________

 

One Month Later

 

Elliot, aka Faux Justin Beiber, and I, finally started dating recently. We do have our romantic dates and all, but I wasn’t ready for sex, nor did I expect to be for a long time to come. I told him about what these last couple of months have been like, what happened and the wrong I had done. Getting an STI, though I had been gonorrhea free for some time now. I knew I needed time to build trust with someone, and I didn’t want him to think I was trying to keep him at arm’s length. Elliot took it all pretty well, with an understanding that was beyond my or his years. He was opened to the possibility of dating on one condition: I get rid of any dating apps. It was simpler than I thought, and after that, I only had eyes for this loveable dork.

Loren and Tammy, aka sorority girl, remained friends. When I asked why they didn’t consider becoming an item, she sharply responded, “What, do you think all bisexual women are ready to grab the u-haul and move in together?!” We both had a good laugh at that. To PJ’s delight though, him and Tammy started talking. We’ll see where that goes. Dale, however, was not as happy with this union.

Lex sent me an email one day, probably a couple of weeks after the last time we had spoken to each other. He said that he told Ella everything: about his sexuality, about all the men, as I suspected, and having been infected with gonorrhea, as he would eventually find out only a week after our fight. She tested negative, to his and even my relief. But, I didn’t respond to the message. It seemed better to let him be and discontinue contact with him, lest we make any more thoughtless decisions that would wreck the lives around us. The chapter was closed, but I couldn’t help but wonder what life in that house had been like.

I rode the bus to the suburbia once more. It seemed sneaky to spy on their lives like this, but I was desperate to know, and I promised to never to take the trip again.

I stood some distance away staring at the house that didn’t seem to change. His and her car were still there, and I assumed they still lived with each other. I didn’t want to get caught by one of the neighbors and considered venturing off when I noticed Ella coming out the front door. Even from the distance, I could see her baby bump growing larger within her. Right behind her was Lex with his arms around her, his arm around her stomach and shoulder. Ella’s face, even from the distance, showed no comfort or happiness. I felt guilty for having caused her this pain, and I wished I could take it back. He walked her to the car, blew her a kiss through the closed window, and she was off while he stood there, probably feeling the full weight of his deeds on his shoulders. It was a hard learning lesson for me, to never get in the middle of another couple’s relationship again, married or not.

It seemed this saga was over. I turned myself around and headed back to school, ready to put this behind me once and for all.

Thanks for reading!! Feedback appreciated, and I will get back to you when I can!
Copyright © 2019 BDANR; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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You’ve written an excellent story. Lex is deeply flawed; who knows if anything will work out with him? The man only knows his immediate desires and his anger. Our narrator has come through a terrible experience. You write that so well, we can feel it deeply. The epilogue allows us a ray of hope, for which I’m grateful, in addition to my thanks for this story. 

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