“Jesus,” Mike said. “Your denial is almost endearing.”
I sputtered for a little bit longer after that one.
“This has been fun,” Darren said, sounding rather pleased with himself, the bastard. “But you called me for a reason. Yet another favor, was it?”
In my head, I swore to him that his death would not come easy. Outwardly, I said, “Yes. You are the king of the homo jocks. It’s time to extend your authority over your people. I will need at least nine of them to participate in the drag bachelor auction. Since the homo jocks have a propensity to have sex with most things that catch their eye, I assume you know plenty of single homo jocks. If anything, you can invite your Ultimate Frisbee team to participate.”
“I haven’t played Ultimate Frisbee in a long time,” he said. I could tell he was annoyed and that made me happy.
And he was a liar and fat mouth, so I waited.
Finally, “The league hasn’t even started this year yet,” he grumbled.
“How fascinating,” I said. “I’m sure the games are filled with testosterone and homoeroticism and a lot of inappropriate touching and now that I say that out loud, I should probably go to them because it sounds like porn. Do you grope each other’s asses when you score a basket or field goal or whatever ridiculous point system you use?”
Both Mike and Darren sighed. It’s always a good sign for a conversation when you hear exasperation in surround sound.
“I’ll take that as a yes. I might film it and put it on the Internet, FYI.”
“Uh-huh. And why nine?”
“Because you’ll be the tenth. I think ten is a nice round number to have for drag bachelor auctions. And Mike will reach out to the Super Gays who I know will just love to donate funds.”
“The who?”
“The Super Gays. You know, the wealthy middle-aged gays who fling money at everything but also like looking at man flesh. They’re quite a large group, in case you haven’t noticed. Not that you probably had, now that I think about it. They’re probably a bit out of your age range. And out of high school.”
“Har, har.”
“And you know what?” I said. “I’ll even make it easier. You only need to recruit eight. I can get the last one.”
“Who?” he asked suspiciously.
“Why, Brian, of course. I’m sure my one-night-stand-and-almost-more-but-I-set-him-free-for-his-own-good would be more than willing to participate. After all, he owes me.”
“Brian,” Darren repeated flatly. “You’re going to call Brian.”
“Sure,” I said.
“You still talk to him?” Darren sounded awfully put out at the thought.
I grinned. “Every now and then.” I didn’t really, but Darren didn’t need to know that. I didn’t know if he was jealous or just annoyed that I’d fucked one of his minions. Either way, I was in control again and it was amazing and I was going to extort it for all it was worth.
“Rule six,” he snapped. “No fucking homo jocks.”
“I haven’t. You’re my one and only, bae.” And there I was, losing control again already, because why the fuck did that sound so nice? He wasn’t my one and only anything.
“I’ll call him,” he said. “You just focus on the logistics. You don’t need to worry about the homo jocks.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t want to overburden you. I can do it. Besides, I’ve been meaning to give him a call. You know, just to touch base.”
“That better be the only touching there is,” he growled. “There are rules, Sandy.”
“I’m well aware of the damn rules,” I said. “I made up most of them.”
“Half. You made up half.”
“The better half,” I muttered under my breath.