It was an overstatement to say Garland could tolerate my friends. My camp friends he loved, my more intelligent friends not so much. He detested one friend in particular, a gay guy of twenty four named Gideon. It wasn't the fact that Gideon was exactly like me that bothered him, nor the fact that Gideon's appearance cleverly matched mine, with black hair to his shoulders and a body lean as mine. Gideon's eyes were a sea of crimson and his angular features made an amazing combination with his sallow bone structure.
What made Garland uncomfortable was that Gideon liked me. Never mind that, Gideon adored me and it showed in his actions. The physical contact, the teasing and cuddling me and Gideon did made Garland sick with avarice. Gideon was in love with me and there was no convincing Garland otherwise. I of course had no love for Gideon, but the fact we had "history" didn't help the situation.
I loved Monopoly, and in a desperate attempt to end the one-sided dispute between Garland and Gideon I sat us all around the table one grey Sunday evening to play it. We actually got into it well. After teaching both of them the basics, of course.
I drew a block that forced Gideon into jail, and on his next turn he wrapped his arms around my shoulders offering a kiss in exchange for freedom. Oblivious to how sexual an act this was, I allowed it. I slid my tongue past Gideon's lips and flicked it over all the spots i knew Garland loved, which Gideon seemed to love too. He fought for dominance but allowed my tongue to win, and I slid along the inside of his lips.
In all honesty I felt absolutely no desire for Gideon as a physical partner, but his warm mouth tasted sweet like Garlands, and reminded me of brambles. I bit on his lip and drew the sweet fluid from his body. When we pulled out lips apart, Gideon still rested his arms draped over my shoulders. I looked to Garland with a hint of boredom evident in my gaze.
"It's your turn, babe," I said in a monotone, admittedly I was bored and did get a little excitement from Gideon's actions.
Garland huffed and flipped the table, causing a loud clatter and the board to crack on the floor allowing the hundreds of pieces to scatter, forever lost in the untidy labyrinth of my antique furniture. I stared at Gideon the ran upstairs after Garland, expecting Gideon to absolutely not make his way out.
"What the fuck is wrong?!" I asked, closing the bedroom door behind me. Everything in the room was my design, black wallpaper with inscriptions, guitars lining the walls and candles to light when it became dark outside. Traces of Garland existed, but the place was decorated to reflect myself. My house, after all.
Garland looked up at me, a tear-stricken face making his glasses foggy. His eyeliner was running and he looked defeated. I sighed and sat down beside him, gently bringing him to rest his head on my chest. I shouldn't have raised my voice. I stroked his hair to soothe him.
"I'm sorry to talk like that. Trust me. But please, what's wrong? Did I do something wrong?"
