Once again thanks to the people who wrote me, that's why I'm keeping this bitch going.
Disclaimer: If you are offended by sex between guys, interracial sex, drug use, or just easily offended, now is the time to hit "back" on your browser. If you are underage in your area, your suppose to leave too (ya, whatever).
Is this a true story? I'm not telling which parts are and which parts aren't. I'm not giving real names, and I'm not giving the name of the city. Some things are just better as an unknown.
As all things, this is dedicated to A.D. in N.M. Santa... Your still an asshole, and I still love you.
Guerrito-4 Gangsters don't cry
The next week I spent simply going through the motions. You know how it is, we all do it sometimes. Everything is on automatic, with out thought, because the mind, your attention is elsewhere. That's how it was. My attention was elsewhere, on him. And that seemed so fucked up. See first I was all mad that he would even think that I would hurt him on purpose, yet alone hit him. That really pissed me off. At the same time I figure that all of this is his problem. Lets be real here, this is the fucking barrio te gusta o no te gusta es la actualidad. It is what it is!
But what really was fucking pissing me off was that I really can't understand why I am so mad in the first place. Red is my friend and all, but how the fuck did I go from letting some guy suck my dick to feeling this! And what the fuck AM I feeling? I don't know, but I really care about the little shit. So that's why it hurt when he walked out the door, but does he know?
Lencho and Jose weren't surprised about me kicking them out of the house. Lencho thought I was going to beat his ass for opening his mouth. They both figured that I was trying to do damage control, to keep our doings quiet, and kicked them out cuz they would be no help. They were right on that account, they were no damn help. I couldn't even talk to them about what the fuck was really happening.
We all laid low after the drive-by. It hit the papers, but nothin more. No calls from the cops or anything like that, they honestly don't care anyway. So life was to go on as usual. I lived by my phone and beeper as usual and sold and sold and sold. Now by now you have surely figured out that criminals are not as stupid as you are led to believe by watching TV. Well, I have a decent sense for finances. I usually dumped the money that I hadn't used that week into a slush fund, so me being all depressed meant I wasn't eating, but was drinking, and was working a lot more. So the money flooded in quick, and I dumped a lot of it into my account (I actually have several in different credit unions, it keeps the accounts small enough that they aren't noticed).
What I hadn't been doing was talking to Red. I just left it alone, sort of. I drove by his dorm often, but I never stopped. I couldn't, I just didn't know what to say. Like I said, this lasted about a week. Then there was Friday.
On Friday, using my new cell phone, I called Reds dorm. I left several messages, some on the machine and some with his roommate. None of them were to telling, I didn't want to cause Red any problems with his roommate. I was beginning to think that Red just didn't want to talk to me. So I went over to the dorm, and met up with his roomate.
"Where's Red?"
"Fuck, don't you knock? He's not here, fuck you know that you called enough times."
"Don't fuck with me, were is he."
"I don't know I haven't seen him all day, he went to class and then disappeared. I don't know where he is."
"Fuck!"
There wasn't much more that I could do. I thought about beating more information out of him, just in case was lying. But if, no, when Red found out he would only be madder, it would only prove his point. I hadn't made it home all day, but if Red's roommate wasn't lying, then he never got my message with my cell phone number, so maybe he called the house. It seemed like bit of a stretch, but we all have hope!
I guess I should have gone home sooner. When I came to my block I could already see him, with his red hair, sitting on the front step of my house. As soon as I parked the car I saw the bottle. It seems that Red had almost drunk himself a whole bottle of bacardi 151. What can I say, I work good in a crisis. The first thing that popped into my head was that this would be a whole lot of drama. He could be like my ex, and scream and yell, or he could just start by taking a swing at me. The second thought was that if he passed out, we were going to the hospital cuz that much 151 and your talking alcohol poisoning.
"What's up Red?" I said calmly as I got out of the car.
"Hey" He said with a smile, ok maybe this wasn't going to be too bad.
"I tried to call you today, I didn't know you'd be here."
"Ya well. I thought it would be easier to find you on Friday. I wanted to talk to you, but I kinda got drunk." He giggled a bit.
"Lets go inside."
I guess that was the signal, cuz as soon as we got into the house he really let me have it. He didn't yell, but he wasn't exactly calm.
"You know, I really hate you. You fucking suck."
"Ok..."
"This fucking sucks, this is not fair. Why did I fucking have to meet you in the first place? This isn't fucking right, you make me hurt so much."
"What did I do, look I'm sorry I went shooting, but your really over reacting."
"Shut up. Fuck you, you are so fucking clueless. It isn't about that, your an asshole and a violent asshole at that. But I, but..."
"But what?!"
"But I think I have to go throw up." He yelled that and then ran for the the bathroom."
I followed him in, and put my hand on his back as he threw up. It was nothing but liquid, so I know he didn't have anything to eat. I took a washcloth and washed his mouth.
"You fucking just make me hurt." And he was fucking right, because we had crossed a fucking line of sorts, there were tears in his eyes. In the ghetto, boys don't cry. Not the real ones anyway. Red was no pussy, if he was crying then I had fuck this up a lot more then I thought.
Red made his way back to the couch, downed the rest of the bottle of 151 and then passed out. I tried to wake him up, but it didn't work real well. So I picked him up (fucker is heavy) and put him in my car and took off to the emergency room. On the way there, and then once I got him into the ER and told them that he needed his stomach pumped, I got some time to think.
'If he was hurtin like this, then he was as confused by all of this crap as I was. Maybe the best thing for me to do was to put a stop to this. Maybe that would be better for both of us. Maybe he couldn't handle being in the barrio. Too much violence. He was in college, that is suppose to be a way out. I don't think I am helping all of that. Besides, what the fuck am I suppose to do with this? I don't thing my clique would take well to me having a boyfriend. What about my kid? How would Red take to all of that! I hadn't even mentioned my kid. Fuck. Now I wanted to go drink till I passed out.'
My mind fuck was interrupted when one of the nurses told me that my friend was doing ok, they had pumped his stomach and were now giving him an IV to rehydrate him. He would be released when he woke up, but in the meantime they thought he should just sleep. I went to the room they had put him in, and sat down and waited for him to wake up. He was so beautiful, just sleeping peaceful. It was kinda cute, I suppose, me being the first thing he saw when he woke up.
"Hey"
"Hey"
"I'm sorry, I don't know what all I said, it's kinda all black out, but I'm sorry."
"Shh, don't worry about it. Its all good."
He reached up, so I took his hand and just held it.
"Damn, my head hurts and I feel like shit."
"That's what you get for poisoning yourself!" Shouted the nurse as she came it. It make me jump and I dropped Red's hand and moved back to where I had been sitting.
"You better get your friend home, let him sleep and make him drink lots of water."
"So, we can go then?"
"Yes, check out at the front desk."
We got out of that hospital as quickly as possible. I took Red to my house and stripped him down and put him in my bed. Of course it didn't take long before I stripped and got in there with him. I put my arms around him and he quickly pressed against me and went back to sleep. I guess all this crap can wait.
When I woke up, it was late in the night. This had really fucked up the day, so it is about 1am and I'm waking up. I was still hurtin from being jumped, and while I always lied when asked.
"Hey does that shit hurt?"
"Fuck no."
It did hurt, there was no way around that. So I was still taking baths instead of showers, so I could soak. It made all my bruised feel a lot better. I sat there, not thinking, it was nice. I was just chillin and then I heard the screech of car tires and I shot up out of the tub. My first thought was a drive-by. It wasn't, just someone screwin around with their car. I sat my ass back in the tub. The possibility of getting Red hurt, maybe even killed, all of a sudden seemed very real. Maybe he and I should talk about this? Fuck, what was I getting into, this was all starting to sound like a whole bunch of faggy shit.
My thoughts were broken as Red walked into the bathroom, just coming from bed he had no cloths on.
"Hey"
"You feel ok?"
"Oh ya, my head doesn't even really hurt, and I'm not tired anymore."
"It's the IV, those fluids make your body feel better. You still mad."
"I'll get over it." He said with a smile. Then he slid into the tub with me, facing me with his legs open.
"I know this was really stupid getting drunk like that..."
"Don't worry about it, it's over and taken care of."
"Ya, thanks. I mean I come over all pissed and then I wake up in the hospital and they tell me that you probably saved me bringing me in."
"The nurses exaggerate, you just should drink that much anymore."
"All the same, thank you." And with that he leaned in and kissed me.
I, of course, kissed him back. What had started as a fairly cold conversation was quickly changing. I didn't feel so worried about this faggy shit, at least not now. He reached into the water and took my dick in his hand. He kiss me on the neck and worked his way to my nipples and then traced two of my tats (one of each pec). I ran my hand across his head, and then to his face. He seemed so sweet, I know I make him seek like such a delicate person, he isn't. But for some reason, to me, he seems so fucking gentle. I leaned in and kissed him on the forehead, and then on the nose, and then on the lips, as I reached down and jacked his dick slowly.
We went on like that for a while, just kissing and jacking each other off in the tub, until we both came. With that we got out and got dressed. I thought about ordering some food, but realized it was a little late for that. He came into the living room and said those dreaded words.
"I don't know how else to say it but we need to talk."
It seems more than one person has said that to me, it was never good. But all that sweetness had to come to an end sometime. After all that had gone on the day before we had a lot to talk about.
"Ok, so lets talk, you start."
"Did I say I'm sorry yet?" he said sheepishly.
"Ya, like a dozen times already, but that's not what's up."
"I know, look, I just got real scared."
"I understand, I mean you don't want anybody coming and shooing you.."
"Shut up and let me talk. It's more than that. I know everything is all violent, and fuck I don't worry about it too much cuz I can take care of myself. It's more that just the shooting that scares me. All of this scares me, you could get hurt. Fuck you did get hurt and that really tore me up. But then you go off and what if somebody shoots you? That's what really bothers me. If it was just some friend of mine it would be bad enough but..."
"But what?"
"Don't play stupid, you know what. I don't know, I feel. Look this is just different, Ok."
"Ya, this is just different. I can live with that."
"Can you? Are you sure?" That was the question that I really had to answer.
"Look Red, this isn't 'normal' me, ok. But this is something. I don't know that this is all the best for you, cuz I think this just will fuck up everything you should be doing. But ya this is different, I mean I feel something. I don't usually feel anything, but I do. Look this sucks, I don't want to talk about it anymore."
"Well, I just need to know..."
"What do you need to know? You get pissed at me and take off and I don't see you for a week, so I flood your machine and roommate with messages instead of just letting it go. You get drunk and come and tell me I'm an asshole and how badly I've hurt you and what do I do? I let you, and then I drag your ass to the hospital. They tell me you need sleep, so do I take you home? No, I bring you home with me. Look, I may not want to talk about this, and I may not be comfortable with all of this, but what ever you want to know about this I think is pretty clear. I've just done what I felt is right."
"Your right, thank you." With that Red came next to me and put his arms around me. This was a bit of a switch for us, but it felt good. What ever else this may be, this isn't some silly fag romance. I still have friends to deal with, and I still have a kid. I don't know where to go from here.