About 3 Months
Or when do you know they're the one?
In the spirit of this week’s Library is Open, I wanted to share a piece of writing I did after being inspired by Alexander Chee to make fiction out of my life. Technically, this piece is autobiographical fiction, because the things that were said and the exact chronology of events isn’t exact. But what is memory and accuracy anyway? David Sedaris once said his stories are “realish,” even though they’re classified as nonfiction, because people might be composites, or the size of something might be exaggerated, or just because how can writers be expected to report on their lives knowing every detail, quote, and turn of events?
Anyway, we don’t need to solve that here because for the most part, this story is true, albeit stylized for the genre Alex introduced to me. I wrote it in the third person to see what that might feel like, to view myself from the outside like some omniscient narrator. I hope you enjoy!
About 3 Months
“I’m not going to break up with him,” Cole said. It was evening, the moon was glittering in the sky and cars were passing, swish-swish, next to the sidewalk.
Cole was speaking to his two friends, Kevin and Matt. Kevin was leaning against the railing that circled their favorite place to drink, GYM Bar, a sports bar that catered to a gay male crowd. A football game (past or present, none of them cared) was playing in the background. A dull high-pitched squeal echoed inside the bar as the crowd cheered. Cole guessed a team had scored.
They were outside on the patio, Matt sitting down on a barstool next to the table the three of them circled, his head still towering above his two companions. A tall heat lamp, barely aglow with red and purple flame, stood in the corner.
“You will,” Kevin said.
“I will not!”
“Yes, you will,” Matt said, smiling and looking at Kevin out of the corner of his eye. Cole’s friends were goading him.
“I’m trying not to do that. Not to come to any rash conclusions. Take my time,” Cole said. “So no, I won’t.” He looked at them both pointedly in the eyes before taking a swig of his vodka soda.
He chewed on the straw and looked off at the street.
“How long’s it been?”
“About two-and-a-half months,” Cole said. He regretted it the moment he did.
“Oh yeah, you will,” Matt said again, now sharing a giggle with Kevin as they looked in each other’s direction, confirming something between them.
Cole had a nasty habit of dating guys for 3 months, then letting them go. Something his friends knew well about him.
“You always do this,” Kevin said, “you tell us he’s great, no wait he’s not great, no wait I think I like him but I’m not sure, no wait I don’t think we’re a good match, no wait-do you guys like him?” He was feigning a pitiable expression now, looking at Matt with helpless eyes as an act. “And then 1 week later we find out you’re ending it, no wait, you’ve already ended it.”
Matt was laughing now, catching his breath as he put his glass down on the black metal table. Cole hated the way it seemed to clink in rhythm with his giggles.
“Oh shut up,” Cole said, setting his drink down next to Matt’s then storming off towards the bathroom.
“Oh come on! You know it’s true,” Kevin called after him.
The three of them had known each other for a little over two years. And to Cole’s annoyance, his friends seemed to know the inner workings of his mind even before he did.
Truth was, they were right. Cole knew they were right. He knew they were right the minute he’d said “two-and-a-half months.” He was struggling to decide if his current beau really was for keeps. He made his way into the one-stall bathroom and locked the door. He thought about Josh.
He was probably the most handsome man Cole had ever been with, up until that point anyway. 6’3, white, broad-shouldered, with pink plump lips that revealed a shining smile. The kind of straight smile you knew was paid for by well-off parents. Cole could picture him as a teenage boy, tall and lanky, growing up in Virginia, braces on his teeth in middle school. For Cole, he was the epitome of East Coast prep, complete with thick brown hair that coiffed to the side and seamlessly blended into his kempt beard. His wardrobe consisted mainly of earth-tone sweaters and dark blue jeans. He looked perfect.
That was hard for Cole. Not hard in the sense that he found it difficult to be around Josh without feeling self-conscious. But hard in the sense that he couldn’t say his waning attraction towards him was because he wasn’t good-looking enough, something he’d convinced himself of about other partners before. He most certainly was good-looking enough, especially for someone like Cole, who’d grown up a short, scrawny, brown-skinned boy in a mostly white suburb. Having caught a man like Josh had been a surprise to him; dumping him wasn’t something he was going to take lightly. What if he never caught as good-looking a fish again?
Cole left the stall to wash his hands in the mirror, looking at his reflection. “You’re so fucking shallow,” he told himself, flicking water over the surface of his image so little droplets dripped down the glass.
He was shallow. But he was also young. 27-years-old, living in one of the most sexualized cities in America: West Hollywood. Where looks weren’t just something people had, it was something people used. Like currency. It could get you things: free things, new things, sexual things. And Cole liked to use the currency Josh gave to him, that of status by association. They could walk down the street together and people would turn, to look at Josh and to look at Cole. His friends eyed Josh whenever they went out together and Cole felt pride when he saw the approving look in their eyes.
But that’s the thing about dating: for Cole, there always came a time when he needed to label it. “My date.” “My boyfriend.” “My lover.” When, “Hi, this is Josh,” just wouldn’t do anymore. His mind always had to contend with time, too. Yes, time. 1 month. 2 months. 3 months. At what point does one call it serious? At what point does one call things off? When do you know a person truly is “the one?”
Cole guessed it was somewhere around 3 months. That was generally, in his opinion, when someone could tell whether the person they were dating was worth continuing to date or not. When you knew for sure whether to keep them or drop them. It was a simple enough rule to live by. If only he could be that in-tune with his feelings to know. But time and time again, he would hit that point where all should make itself clear and be stumped. Were they handsome, smart, kind, and caring? Or cheap, boring, idiotic, and vain? He could never be certain, because all of their qualities just swirled around in his head like melting ice in water. And the negative traits always seemed to hold more weight, no matter how hard he tried to remember the way it felt when they first met, back when he was smitten. Back when small things didn’t mean so much. The debate inside his head would rage on and on. And more often than not, he let the other person go just to get rid of the anxiety of having to make a choice at all. Which was why he hadn’t had a relationship longer than 3 months since college.
So here he was, asking himself again whether Josh could be “the one.” There were other things about Josh he liked beyond just his looks. The way he cuddled him at night, his large frame wrapped around him like a bear. The way he became excited whenever talking about X-Men or Real Housewives or other seemingly simple topics that seemed to hold secrets Cole could only guess at and Josh seemed to think through with enthusiasm. He also liked Josh’s job. Executive Assistant to the CEO of Planned Parenthood. Josh was probably the first man in L.A. Cole had met who actually did something he admired. Not in a “you’re so successful and rich and powerful” kind of way, but a “you actually work somewhere that helps people every day” kind of way. He was proud of dating someone like that.
Cole washed his hands and walked out of the bathroom. He passed by the few men watching the game inside the bar and made his way back to the patio where his friends sat waiting for him.
Matt and Kevin were now talking about the movie they’d watched the weekend before.
“At least it was free,” Matt said.
“Thank god for AMC Stubs,” Kevin agreed, swigging the last of his drink.
Cole did the same. “So, Beaches?”
The other two nodded. And they were off.
Beaches was the local watering hole that resembled anything but. Flashy, named after the beaches of the 80’s—Miami, Malibu, St. Barthes. The place was walled with striped, palm-leaved wallpaper and on the ceiling were naked, silver mannequin men in various swimming poses hung upside down so their cute bubble-butts glowed down towards you. Cole loved it—for the colors, the neon pink signs, the hunky bartenders in tropical shirts. It reminded him of Palm Springs, which his family had visited every summer during his childhood. He had always been happy in Palm Springs, so he felt nostalgia for the bar.
Cole flashed his ID to the bouncer and stepped inside. The crowd was a good size, for 10:30pm on a Saturday night. A few lookers, a few familiar faces from the local kickball league (in which the three of them had all met), and a few older men sitting along the yellow leather bench that spanned the wall across from the bar.
“Vodka soda,” Kevin said to Cole as he passed by.
“Where are you going?”
“Bathroom,” Kevin called as he moved through the crowd, waving his hand.
“Bitch,” Cole said after him.
He got the attention of one of the hunks behind the bar and ordered two vodka sodas. Matt came up behind him to order his own and the pair of them stood off to one side, sipping on straws.
Cole was lost in thought. He could hear Matt’s various comments on people and answered when he asked him about his day at work, but he wasn’t really listening. He was thinking about other things.
Like the boy across the way with the black, mesh t-shirt whose sleeves wrapped tightly around his biceps. Or the girl standing up on the balcony above, swaying and talking animatedly to her friends over the railing. And the bartender whose shy expression reminded him of Josh.
Josh, who had come to meet him at this very bar when they first met.
It had been a hot, August night. Cole had been scrolling through men on Chappy, a now discontinued dating app for gay men, when he came across Josh’s profile. To him, it read: Handsome, 35, Planned Parenthood. He tapped through to the profile, the screen zooming upwards to reveal what Josh had written in the limited space provided.
“Good in a room,” it said.
Cole thought that was odd, but a little endearing. He scrolled down to the Instagram photos. There were some with Josh and his friends. Josh cooking Thanksgiving dinner in a blue checkered apron wrapped around his body. Josh outside the Freddie Kreuger house holding a pumpkin that showed off his large biceps. And finally, a photo of a script. Cole assumed he had written it. He read the first few lines that could be seen in the photo and his eyes narrowed in on one phrase: “playfully smells the back of his neck.”
Cole swiped right. It was a match.
What was most surprising about their exchange afterwards was that when he told Josh he was pregaming with a couple friends and about to go to Beaches, Josh didn’t hesitate to say he’d be down to come and meet them.
Cole thought maybe he was just being nice, so he gave him an out.
“If you end up being too tired, no worries,” he typed in the little pink bubbles that populated on his screen.
“Sounds tempting, so let me know.”
An hour or two later, Cole was standing on the balcony of Beaches overlooking the crowd in the best vantage point in the bar, the corner closest to the front. Kevin and Matt were with him (naturally) and the three of them were talking. Cole was mostly busy watching for the handsome man he’d seen on his phone. He’d texted him (Josh had given him his number, so soon!) to tell him where he was.
Then, he saw him. Walking through the front door, up the steps, past the group lounging on the couch beside them. He wore a grey shirt with NASA printed on the front in blue and red letters. Cole thought he looked manly, spots of grey in his beard with those big arms and broad chest. But he also looked childish at the same time. Like a sweet high school nerd who’d never grown up.
“Hi,” he said.
“Hi,” Josh said back. They hugged.
“This is Kevin,” Cole said, turning so Josh could introduce himself, “and this is Matt.”
The four of them talked for a while, Kevin and Matt carrying on conversation with themselves to give the new pair time to talk.
“So, you’re a screenwriter?” Cole asked him.
“Yeah, but not full-time,” Josh said with a smile. “I have a day job.”
“Right, Planned Parenthood. What do you do for them?”
“I’m the Executive Assistant to the CEO.”
“That’s so cool.”
“Yeah, it’s a good job.”
“No but you actually, like, work somewhere that does good in the world,” Cole said.
Josh laughed. “I guess you’re right. It’s pretty sweet. What do you do?”
“I work in advertising, at a social media agency. We make videos for brands on Facebook, Instagram. Definitely not helping the world.”
“Sounds fun though.”
“It can be yeah. Pretty cool. I get to go on shoots and be in creative brainstorms. But, I’m basically the one who schmoozes the client and makes sure everything goes according to plan.”
“I’m sure you do more than that,” Josh said.
Cole smiled and lowered his eyes, sipping his drink and accepting the compliment.
The pair of them got to know each other a little better, a little clearer, and became a little more attracted to each other as the hour passed. Before long, Cole was whisking Josh with him and his two friends to the bar next door, Motherlode.
Known for its even stronger drinks and less inhibited patrons, Motherlode was a surprise stop for the three friends who normally never frequented its wild walls, but the place had recently renovated its patio and on that hot summer night, it looked inviting.
“I’m going to grab a drink, would you like anything?” Josh asked.
Cole never expected much in the way of his dates so chivalry continued to surprise him, but he nodded with a smile and watched as Josh made his way to the bar.
“I like him,” he said.
Matt rolled his eyes. “Of course you do.”
“What do you think?” Cole asked Kevin, usually needing his approval the most.
“Yeah, very cute. And nice,” Kevin agreed, sipping on his 3rd vodka soda of the night.
Cole nodded, satisfied with his friends’ answers. He looked back towards Josh.
“Just don’t go home with him,” Matt said.
“What? Why not?”
“Just don’t. Take your time,” Matt said.
Cole thought about that for a moment. He wasn’t used to taking his time. First dates for him always meant the first time he’d have sex with that person. He didn’t think of himself as slutty per sé, but when he liked someone he felt this intense desire to see and know all of them. To possess them or feel possessed by them, uniquely. He wanted to get the full picture of someone, feel desired by them, and know something about them only a few others could know. He also always had the feeling that first dates were fleeting—you never knew if you were going to have a second. And the thought of not knowing that part of a person made him feel like sex was now or never.
He was already thinking about what Josh would look like naked. What it would feel like to be wrapped in his arms. What position he would take in bed.
Though he didn’t agree with Matt out loud, but he was willing to give it a try.
Josh came back with their drinks and touched Cole’s shoulder, softly. His hand was warm, strong, and secure. Cole felt his skin alight with the touch. It was intoxicating, even if just for a moment. He sipped his vodka soda quicker to keep this sudden intense pull from tipping him.
The four of them stayed at the bar for a while, Matt and Kevin engaging Josh with more conversation about his job, his writing, his friends. Cole watched Josh as he responded to their questions.
“Do you live alone?” Matt asked.
“No, I have a roommate. We’ve been friends for awhile.”
“Oh cool,” Matt said.
“Do you ever get to use Planned Parenthood, like for perks?” Kevin asked.
“Well, I’m not a woman,” he paused, “but I can get STD tests whenever I want.”
Kevin and Matt laughed. Josh smiled and sipped his drink.
Cole was slowly becoming enamored with this man. He liked his bravery in coming out to meet people he didn’t know, even though he seemed as shy as Cole could be in new places. He liked the way Josh stood close to him and how their arms would brush now and again. He liked the way Josh listened to him when he spoke and seemed to think critically about what he was saying. He liked his smile most of all.
When he felt drunk enough, Cole asked if they all wanted to go dancing at Flaming Saddles.
They walked east down Santa Monica Blvd. and made their way to the large, two-story building with FLAMING SADDLES emblazoned out front. Cole entered the bar, which really felt like a club with its flashing lights, loud music and shirtless go-go boys in cowboy hats swinging from the ceiling on tires. He followed Kevin and Matt up the long staircase that led to the second dance floor. The music thumped louder and louder in his ears as he made his way up and up, purple lights flashing over his tan arms as he climbed. He began to push through the crowd of sweaty bodies at the top, the air sweltering in the heat that emanated from them. It grew more dense as the foursome moved forward and just as he was feeling like he was about to be lost by his friends, he felt Josh’s hand slide into his from behind.
Cole turned, once again feeling the weight of that hand, and smiled at him. Josh smiled back. Cole led him forward, pulling him through the crowd until they found a space to stand, just to breathe for a moment.
They looked at each other, pausing amid the dull roar of the music and pulse of the bodies all around them. Then Josh leaned in close, bowed his head lower, and pressed his lips to Cole’s.
The kiss felt weightless and with the speed at which it came, he thought Josh must actually be into him. Like really into him, to be with his strange friends and this strange boy all night. Cole kissed him back firmly, reaching his arms up and over his neck, feeling his strong back. And then he felt Josh’s arms wrap around him, just long enough for Josh to press against him for a moment before the two pulled away again.
Cole smiled and Josh winked. He grabbed his hand and led him into the crowd.
“Cole....”
“Cole..”
“Cole!” Kevin shouted in the present Beaches, exactly two-and-a-half months since that night. He waved his hand over Cole’s eyes.
Cole came back to the present feeling spectral.
“What?”
“Josh is here,” Kevin said, pointing towards the bathroom behind them.
Cole turned to see his tall, handsome something walking towards him from the direction of the bathroom. He smiled, feeling conflicted, feeling somewhat confused as he was still thinking about the Josh he had met that night. Not the one he knew intimately and had now taken shape in his life. He hugged him, letting Josh’s arms wrap loosely around him once again. Cole hoped he might keep him there a little longer.