Page 36 of True Sight (Nat. 20, #4)

CONRAD

M y hand reaches for my phone when it buzzes on top of my desk.

When I flip it over, I see that it’s Margaret, which is odd but not out of character for her.

She told me I’d be filling her in on all things Henry after she left last night so I know a conversation is coming.

She hadn’t stayed long which I was thankful for.

After hugging us both and calling us ‘cute’ she asked Henry a few cordial questions about himself and then politely excused herself.

Once she was gone, Henry asked me if I was okay.

“Why wouldn’t I be okay?” We were sitting next to each other on the couch and throwing the ball for Annie who had fully recharged after a nap.

“Because someone knows now…about this,” he said apprehensively and shrugged. “I know you’re still trying to figure things out, I don’t want you to feel rushed.”

I smiled at him and leaned in to kiss him on the cheek. “I’m okay, I promise. Margaret is good people, she won’t tell anyone.”

I just hoped I sold it better to him than I was selling it to myself because in reality, I’m freaking the fuck out.

I haven’t even figured out what the hell I’m doing and now I have Margaret calling me in the middle of the afternoon trying to get me to talk about it.

Well she’s going to be disappointed because I don’t have anything to say to her.

“Hello?” I speak into the phone.

“Come downstairs,” she demands on the other end.

“Margaret, I’m working. What do you want?” There is an edge to my voice I hadn’t intended but the growing pressure of her knowing is starting to sit on my chest.

“Don’t talk to me like that,” she spits back. “You might speak to your other friends like that, but not me. Now put your shoes on and come down. Bring Annie, we’re going for a walk.”

She hangs up before I can argue, leaving me nothing else to do but follow her demands.

One thing I love about Margaret is she doesn’t put up with my grumpiness and isn’t afraid to call me out for being an ass.

She reminds me of Bailey in that way. Sighing heavily, I push from my desk and get ready to meet her outside.

The temperatures have dropped significantly as November has finally arrived so I grab a jacket and pull a knit beanie onto my head.

Once she’s suited up, my favorite girl and I head downstairs and find Margaret waiting for us on the sidewalk.

“There she is, my girl. Hello, angel, yes, I love you too. Hello.” She baby talks my dog who’s a chaotic mess of spastic movements and butt wiggles when she sees her friend.

“And look, my favorite grump,” she says to me, standing up with a smirk.

“Gee thanks. So happy to see you, too, Marge ,” I deadpan and call her the nickname I know she hates.

“Yeah, so fuck you,” she jests as she loops her arm around mine and pulls me down the sidewalk.

“Fuck me?” I cry. “Fuck me for what?”

“Let me count the reasons.” She holds her hand up in front of her as we make our way down the sidewalk.

“First,” she bursts out, holding one finger up. “You call me Marge, and I despise it when you call me that. Until I have blue hair and yellow skin, you call me Margaret.” I smirk at her frustration.

“Second”—Another finger goes up and she whips her head to look at me—“You’ve been boinking a boy for weeks now and you never said anything.

How could you not say anything when you have something so astronomically fantastic happening to you?

I thought we were closer than this.” She stops mid-step and I turn to face her.

She slumps her shoulders low and shakes her head at me as if to say ‘Well? I’m waiting. ’

“I haven’t been boinking him for weeks now,” I sigh and glance around to see if anyone is around to hear our conversation. “I’ve just been boinking him since Saturday.”

“This past Saturday? Like three days ago, Saturday?” she exclaims.

“I think it’s four days, today’s Wednesday. So Sunday, Monday?—”

“It doesn’t matter how many days it’s been since it happened, Miller, it happened. You and your gentlemanly friend are boinking and enjoying one another’s company and I had to find out by walking in on you two making out on your couch. The least you could have done is called.”

“Can we please stop using the word ‘boinking’? It’s annoying,” I jeer, curling the corner of my lip up to prove my point.

“Alright, then you’re having sex with a man and you didn’t tell me,” she says matter-of-factly as we head down a side street. The November air dances around us, chilly and crisp, and I’m glad I put my heavier coat on.

“We aren’t having sex,” I murmur under my breath as we pass an old Methodist church. I was never an overly religious person but the Holy City is holy for a reason and I don’t need some southern spirit attacking me for talking about this in public so close to a church.

“You’re not?” She sounds surprised.

“No, we’re not,” I huff.

“Have you seen him naked?” My mouth falls open at her question before I swallow hard.

“Well, yeah…”

“Has his dick been in your mouth?”

“Margaret!”

“Okay, so it has. Has your dick been in his mouth? Or his hand? That counts too.” She pushes her lips out as she considers all the places my dick could have been.

“So what if it has?” I ask, squinting at her and double checking to make sure no one is around to overhear us.

“Then you’re having sex with him,” she states with conviction.

“But I thought?—”

“Sex doesn’t have to involve penetration to still be sex. If you have gotten off in front of or with him or because of him, you’re having sex with him. Plain and simple. Sex acts are still sex.”

“I feel like I’m talking to Ophelia right now.” I sigh but it comes out more like a groan.

“Oh I’m not surprised, she’s the one who taught me all of this,” she snickers and loops her arm around mine again as we continue down a side street heading back to my apartment.

We walk in silence the last few blocks as I let her words sink in and mix with all the other questions that are swirling around in my head.

Everything that’s happened over the last several days still feels like a dream I can’t wake up from.

A dream I don’t want to wake up from. But now Margaret knows about him and that I’m apparently sleeping with him which I didn’t even realize until she told me.

Her reasoning makes sense though, so I guess I am having sex with him.

Maybe I should have told her sooner about how I feel about him.

Having a friend to talk about everything with that isn’t one of the guys maybe isn’t such a bad thing.

I glance at her again for a moment and suddenly pull her into a hug.

“Woah, what’s this for? You never hug people. Even when they hug you, you just kind of stand there stiff as a board like they’re going to give you some kind of a disease.”

“I just appreciate your friendship, that’s all. I didn’t really want to be friends with you but you forced yourself on me and I’m glad you did.”

“That was a nice attempt at a compliment.” She smirks before hugging me back. “I’m glad we’re friends too.”

We walk up to my apartment building, and before I go up she grabs my arm and looks at me.

“Conrad.” There is a hint of unsureness in her voice that makes me uneasy.

“Yeah?”

“I’m really happy for you. The others might not understand you like I do, but I know that you deserve this type of happiness. Henry seems like a really lovely guy. I hope you let me spend more time with the two of you.”

I look at my newest friend and can’t help but smile and squeeze her hand. “He would like that very much. I would like that very much.”

She smiles, squeezing me back before dropping my hand and pointing a finger at me, suddenly looking very serious.

“And just so you know, you still need to wear a condom when you have sex with a man. You might not be able to get knocked up but you can spread things by not wearing one. Be sure to wrap it up before you have fun, okay?”

“Goodbye, Marge,” I say flatly before rolling my eyes at her.

“Bye, Miller, say hello to your man friend for me. Bye, Annie girl, I love you so much. Have fun at game night.” With a final last dose of babytalk and a kiss on Annie’s head, she turns on her heels and heads for her car.

I watch her go and wave when she pulls out of the parking lot before heading back down the street towards the corner pharmacy.

I suddenly have something I need to pick up.

“Denis, no!” Hank shouts across the table at Malcolm who nearly falls out of his seat laughing. It’s a few hours later and I’m sitting around the table with my three best friends playing through our ongoing campaign.

“Sorry, Auffroy, you’re on your own dude,” Malcolm jeers back and runs his hand through his long, dark hair.

“With that spell, Denis escapes from the band of thieves and makes off for the forest, leaving Auffroy on his own. Tolith, your roll,” Kolbi instructs before handing me the die.

“So Alice has demanded that Ophelia and I not come to the bar this weekend and is forcing us to take the weekend off. You idiots wanna do anything?” Malcolm asks, bringing us out of the game and forcing us back into reality.

“I’m game if everyone else is.” Hank shrugs his shoulders and takes a swig of his beer.

“We should go out as a group, we haven’t done that in awhile,” Kolbi suggests, looking around the table at all of us.

“I really wish we would stay focused on the game,” I grumble, turning the die over in my fingers. The twenty-sided piece of acrylic holds a comforting feeling of familiarness to it after two years of using it weekly.

“Oh, come on, Tolith,” Malcolm groans and slaps a hard hand down on my shoulder. “Come out with all of us, the four of us, the girls, it’ll be fun.”