Opposites Attract

"Okay, mom!"

I hurried down the driveway to my best friend's waiting car. I jumped in and slammed the door.

"Gurl! Drive!" I ordered as I pulled on my seatbelt.

"You barely got out with your life."

"That woman is insane. How long has she been bitching at me to move out? Years! And now I'm moving out and she's unhappy about that, too. I'm so done trying to make her happy."

"She's psycho. But it doesn't matter now, you're free, gurl, you're free. Woohoo!" Trevor took both hands off the wheel, throwing them in the air in celebration.

"Bitch! Just drive. I don't want to die on my maiden voyage to freedom." Today was a long time in the coming. I'd finally moved out of my childhood home. Away from my difficult mother.

Trevor cranked the radio and screamed along with a Britney song. I smiled to myself and joined him.

I had wanted to move out since I was sixteen. But high schoolers don't move out. So the goal became to move out by eighteen. That didn't happen either. But this was finally the day and I would never go back.

My name is Skylar Mackey, but I go by Sky. I use he/him pronouns and I'm a cisgender male homosexual with an androgynous style and look. I get mistaken for a girl quite often, but I don't mind one bit. I'm a 24 year old man, but I love being fluid. Keep them guessing.

I was finally able to move out because of a strange chain of events. But first, a bit of background. My parents divorced when I was fifteen. I spent weekends with my dad until I graduated and then we just drifted apart.

I was so flamboyant and feminine that he didn't know what exactly to think about me. He loved me as a dad, but I wasn't the son he wanted and I wasn't really a daughter either. My blue collar, somewhat conservative father just didn't try. I saw him at holidays and a few times a year when some random reason came up.

My mom collected disability checks for a back injury she got three years ago. She'd gained tons of weight while staying at home and being less mobile. She could take care of herself just fine, but she had a hard time getting out and about. She had gotten more bitter and hateful as the months rolled by.

I worked two crappy jobs to pay for my clothes and my life outside of the house. I was only home to sleep and shower. And if I could stay at one of a few different friend's places, I wouldn't even go home for that.

My first crappy job was as a cashier at TJMaxx. Fashion for less and an employee discount was all that made it worth it. My second crappy job was as a shampoo boy at a salon. I basically worked for tips, which were not good by any measure.

I made just enough money to pay for my phone and daily expenses, but I was never going to move out with those two jobs. I lived in a frustrated state where I'd just ignore my worries away. It was easier to ignore than fix.

Then my dad reached out to let me know he was sick. He'd gotten a staph infection and with his other health issues and his alcoholism, he succumbed to it just a few days later.

He'd been sick for a while, but he hadn't told me. He also didn't go to the doctor until it was really bad. He claimed he hadn't gone to the doctor because he needed to work. But he couldn't really work the last few weeks and then he died, so that plan clearly didn't work out.

Upon cleaning out his rented house with my aunt, we came across a pile of old mail, including bills for a life insurance policy in my name. It was for $7,500, which isn't a lot of money in the big picture, but in my life, it was a fortune.

My aunt encouraged me to cash it out and use the money to move out. Once that idea was in my mind, it was as good as destiny. I knew I was going to need a better job though because that money wouldn't sustain me for long. It was merely a crutch, not a trust fund to live off of.

Before I signed a lease, I needed to find that better job. I was applying online for all sorts of office jobs, but so far, no luck. But that changed when my dad's boss called me to come get a box of his things that were in his desk and locker.

My dad had been in the Army for several years before I was born and then he worked as a security guard. He'd worked some high clearance jobs in the past, but recently he was more of a rent-a-cop type. And for the last year, he was only part time. I knew it was because of his drinking, but he'd never have admitted it.

I'd been to my dad's job once about seven years ago, right before I stopped seeing him on weekends. I remember it being six crusty guys in a dark and dirty "office". It was basically two rooms with second hand desks and toxic masculinity. I didn't look forward to stopping by.

When I did, his boss tried to be really nice since I'd lost my dad and all. I noticed the office was much nicer now and there was a receptionist, which was the boss's wife and business partner. She'd come in and cleaned up the place and took over the office management. She was fairly butch, but she was woman enough to get the place in shape.

I waited by her desk as her husband went to fetch my dad's things. Without really thinking I asked if they were hiring. She said they weren't and we moved on. Dad's boss came back and handed me a box and then left to take a call in his office.

The wife stood and walked with me to the door so she could hold it open for me since it was a fairly large box. Before we got to the door, she stopped in her tracks

"You know what? Cole is hiring for an office position. Let me grab his card." She went back to her desk while I waited by the door.

"Who's Cole?"

"He worked for us for a while, but he wasn't satisfied here. He started his own company doing higher end security jobs. He's got a fancy office over by the new library." She came back and stuck the card into the top of the box saying I should call him.

I thanked her and left. I took the box home and set it on a table in the garage and forgot about it. Several days passed before it came back into my mind.

Trevor and I were out running around when we drove past the library that had been built ten years ago. The older people who'd lived here forever still called it the "new" library. Ridiculous Midwesterners. The box of Dad's stuff and the card inside it popped into my head.

Trevor dropped me off after midnight and I entered the house through the garage. I stopped at the box and pulled out the business card and put it in my bag. My faux Birkin bag.

In the morning I called the number on the card and asked for Cole. The gruff voice that answered told me to hold on and then it got silent for so long, I thought I'd been hung up on. They needed hold music or something.

"This is Cole Matthews."

The loud, clear voice scared me so badly I almost dropped the phone and screamed like a little girl. I often screamed like a little girl.

"Hello. My name is Sky Mackey. I was at Schneider Security several days ago to pick up something and the office manager gave me your card. She said you might be hiring for an office position."

"Mackey? Like Brian Mackey?"

"Yes, that's my dad."

"I'm so sorry for your loss. Your dad was a good man despite his recent challenges."

"Thank you. That's nice of you to say." I wanted to ask about the job again but now it was weird.

"I am hiring for a general office position. Are you looking to get into security like your dad?"

"Oh, no. That's not me. I want to work in an office, answering phones, sorting mail, filing, that kind of thing."

"Do you have any bookkeeping experience?"

"No, I don't. But I can learn. I'm a quick learner." I sounded so lame.

"It's not a requirement, I was just curious. Anyway, I've got a meeting I need to get to, but why don't you come in for a face to face interview on Wednesday. Noon?"

"Yes, that would be great. Thank you so much Mr. Matthews."

"Call me Cole. See you Wednesday."

Okay, this was a good thing. I called Trevor to come get me out of the house. I had my own car that I used for work, but Trevor and I spent most of our time together so we just used his car. It was much nicer than mine.

Trevor Grabowski had been my best friend since eighth grade. We met at a school dance. It was at his school and all the other eighth graders from the other local schools were all invited. It was a mixer before we all started at the same high school in the fall.

Nearly no one from any other school than his attended. I went because it was a reason to dress up and wear make-up. I went with two girls from my junior high that lived down the street from me. The three of us were the only kids from our school at the dance.

We stood around outside because we didn't feel very welcome at the actual dance. Trevor had been inside with his friends, but he came out to find us when he saw us being mocked and teased.

He found us outside and we instantly hit it off. He was my first gay friend and I was so excited to have another gay to start high school with. We hung out a few times that summer, but as soon as our freshman year started, we became inseparable.

Trevor was very flamboyant, too. We practically had a "gay-off" on the daily. We shared pink lip gloss. We borrowed each other's clothes and shoes. We screamed at each other down the hall during passing periods, drawing all the attention to our flaming antics.

We were so gay together that it somehow protected us. We were a spectacle. The girls loved us and we hung out with popular cheerleaders who wanted make-up tips from us. By the time we graduated, we ruled the school as the unquestioned, most fabulous, gay duo of all time. We were legends.

Everyone tried to get us to date each other, but that was never going to happen. We were queer sisters for life! He liked bad boys and I was into athletes and nerds. Okay, I wanted to date athletes. I actually ended up dating nerds. I didn't want to date my bestie clone regardless.

Trevor lived at home, but he had no interest in moving out. His parents had money and a big house. He couldn't match that level of luxury on his own, so he stayed with no reason to move out. I couldn't live there, so I was on my own as far as an apartment went.

"I have a real job interview on Wednesday."

"What are you going to wear?" He didn't ask about the job, of course.

"I'm dressing pretty normal. It's an office job at a security company. Not my dad's, before you even ask."

"I think you should wear that flowy black top you got with those fun leggings." He was driving and smiling away as he suggested that inappropriate interview outfit.

"I was thinking something more like my black work pants and a nice shirt. I don't think my usual style will help me get this job."

"Fine. Get the job and then wear your real clothes."

"Exactly!" I agreed with him exuberantly. I actually planned to play it down even if I got the job. I could be the super flamboyant androgynous me outside of work. But I wanted the kind of job that I could support myself with even if that meant no make-up or skirts or heels or whatever.

Trevor and I lived in different worlds when it came to that kind of thing, too. He didn't have a job at all. He didn't need one. I needed one in the realest way. I had to get out of my mom's and make this insurance policy work for me. This was my one chance. If this didn't work, I might be stuck forever and that would slowly kill me.

Trevor and I went to our usual late night diner and met up with a few of his friends. If I was asked, I'd say they were our friends, but they were really his friends. His rich friends.

Lately Trevor seemed bored by my struggles. He'd spent more time with a few of these people, but I pretended not to notice. I also tried not to talk about my money problems so I wouldn't drag him down to my level. He used to be good about it, but things were changing lately.

I was excited when Wednesday finally came. I wore the black work pants I'd been required to wear to the salon. I got out a lightweight periwinkle blue cashmere v-neck sweater and pulled it on. It framed my long, thin neck and still looked professional.

Black shoes and a matching man bag completed my ensemble. It was a purse, but it looked enough like a messenger bag that I thought it looked fine, especially with the more traditionally male outfit I was wearing. I still wore light make-up and my nails were done in a sedate French manicure.

I couldn't hide who I was even if I wanted to, but I was as toned down as I could really get. I arrived ten minutes early and checked in with the man who'd answered the phone when I'd called. He was as gruff in person. I sat in the small, bland waiting area after checking in with him.

Right at noon, Cole Matthews emerged from his office. "You must be Sky. Come on in." He smiled at me and I nearly died.

Cole was probably six feet tall and built like a rugby player. I didn't know much about sports, but as someone who was attracted to athletes and athletic types, I can tell you what a rugby player was built like and this was it. He was so hot!

He wore his brown hair closely cropped like a military guy. He had piercing blue eyes and a huge white smile. He shook my hand as I met him by his office door. My hand felt tiny in his huge mitt.

I followed him into his office and sat where he indicated. His shoulders were distractingly wide when he settled behind the desk. I pulled it together and the interview began.

He was looking for someone to greet visitors, answer phones, mind the "info" email address from the website, file, keep the reception area clean, etc. It sounded like a perfect job to me. And then he told me what it paid. I fought to contain my surprise.

I would have screamed in any other circumstance, but I clamped my mouth shut and nodded at him to indicate it was an acceptable salary. It was more than my two current jobs combined, by a lot.

After we chatted for a few more minutes, he saw me out and let me know he'd be making a decision by Friday and that he'd be in touch. We shook hands again and I nearly skipped to my car. If this job came through, I could move out!

Friday morning I got the call from Cole's office. It was Cole himself on the other end.

"Good morning Sky. I was calling to offer you the job. Are you still interested?"

"Yes! I'm definitely interested. Thank you so much." I muted the phone and squealed for a second.

"Great. I'm looking forward to having you aboard. Can you start on Monday?"

"Absolutely. What time should I be there?"

"Come in at 8:30. We open at nine."

"Great. I'll be there at 8:30. Thank you again, Cole. I really appreciate this opportunity."

"You were the best candidate I interviewed, by far. I think you'll fit right in."

Yeah right! I thought it to myself while I agreed verbally. I had gotten the job. If it was still going well after a couple of weeks, I'd find an apartment and sign a lease. I felt like such an adult.

The first week went by quickly as I learned the job from Mr. Gruff, who's real name was Steve. He seemingly had no personality whatsoever. He was a security meathead as my dad had called guys like him. Big, strong, intimidating and not much else.

Steve was very glad to get back to his security specialist job now that I was trained and filling the seat by the front door.

The second week was even better because I was now doing the job myself and excelling at it. Cole checked in throughout the day and kept me up to date about his schedule.

I always stopped by his office at the end of the day to let him know I was leaving and locking the front door. He usually asked how my day was or made some other nice small talk. It was my favorite part of the day as it was just us two and he seemed the most relaxed and his guard was down.

"I'm on my way out. Do you need anything before I go?"

"No, I'm good, Sky. You've been doing a great job. Thank you."

"Thanks, Cole. Hey, before I go...... I noticed some framed art in the closet. Can I hang those in the front office area?"

"Yeah, that'd be great. I bought them to hang there but then we ran out of time and I just never got around to it. You can hang those and do any other decorating you think would look nice. You always look nice so I trust you."

"Okay, great. I'll work on that between my regular duties. Bye, Cole. Don't stay here all night. Those contracts will still be here in the morning."

Cole looked up at me curiously. "Thanks for that. It's nice having someone look out for me. I forget to take care of myself." He was nodding as he said it.

"We can't have that." I smiled at him. His smile back nearly took my breath away. I finally made my exit and left the office for the night.

The next day I arrived with a beautiful potted plant and a bouquet of fresh flowers. I'd also brought a vase from home to put them in. I put the plant on the coffee table in the seating area. I was still arranging the flowers in the vase when Cole came in through the back room.

"Wow, those look pretty. A plant! That's nice." He exclaimed as he surveyed the office. He turned back and smiled at me. "I like a little life in the office. Thanks. Turn in your receipt so I can reimburse you."

I bought a bouquet for Cole's office when they were on sale the next Monday. I thought he was going to cry when he saw them on the credenza behind his desk. Seemingly at a loss for words, he sat down and got to work.

A few days later he slid a corporate card across the desk to me. "I love the flowers. It makes the office feel so vibrant and peaceful. Use this for the flowers and wherever else you need for the office."

I wore a more flamboyant outfit on the Friday of my third week at the job. I felt nervous in the morning, but as the day progressed, I was feeling myself more and more. I was much more my usual sassy self, while still not going overboard.

"Have a great weekend, Cole. I'll see you Monday unless you need anything."

Cole looked up at me as I stood in his doorway to say goodbye. He leaned back in his chair and studied me.

"I like the outfit. This seems more "you", if you know what I mean."

"It is more me. I wasn't sure if this would be acceptable to wear to work. I hope it's alright."

"You look great. Wear what you want. I saw the picture on your desk where you're wearing something like this." He motioned to me. "Is that guy your boyfriend?"

I had a picture of me and Trevor on my desk from when we'd been at a wedding together. We looked extra fab. I had full make-up on and high heeled boots.

"No, he's my best friend."

"I like your make-up in the picture. You can wear it if that's how you normally dress."

I looked at him in shock. "Really? You really wouldn't mind if I wore more make-up? I assumed it would be against the dress code."

"What dress code? Me and the guys all wear dark "security guy" clothes because it's who we are. You should dress as who you are, Sky." His eyes were so intense looking right now I felt a bit lightheaded.

I was floating on a cloud all weekend. Between the awesome job and the even better boss and the fact that I was viewing three apartments on Saturday, I was in heaven.

I saw all three places and I really liked the second one. I put in my application and crossed my fingers. I needed this place because I had to get out.

Once I'd started the new job, my mom got even crazier. I think she saw the writing on the wall. I was getting my shit together so I could leave her behind. She didn't like any part of it.

She'd been telling me I was a leech for years. I was sucking her dry. I was living off her disability. I was an ungrateful, disappointment of a son. I would always be a loser. I needed to grow up and get out.

I got a good job and I was growing up and getting out. Now she said I was abandoning her. I was too high and mighty for someone "like me". I would fall flat on my face when I moved out. I was too weak to live alone. I was still an ungrateful, disappointment of a son.