8 • The Dinner

{ Pinky }

I'm more than used to the tedious events I have to attend as my mom's date when dad is away or when they both force me to go. It's nothing new to me, normally it would take me ten minutes to get ready, but today is different.

Today when I get out of the shower and am in my closet, I consider the new addition to the company. The strange man who looked at me with a mixture of disgust and confusion for minutes, as if he had never in his life seen a man with pink hair and tattoos.

I know he'll be there as an honorary guest, so I decide to disgust him with my existence again. Even more so this time.

I decide to put on some black pants made especially for me and a lilac-colored silk blouse. I'm sure seeing a man wearing such a feminine blouse is going to give his homophobic heart an attack, so I smile as I put it on, leaving the first three buttons undone to show off my chest tattoos and, perhaps, a nipple.

I style my hair with a blow dryer before putting on my favorite rings. And I look beautiful.

My mother is waiting for me in the living room, putting up her white hair in an elegant bun at the nape of her neck, leaving several loose strands framing her delicate face.

"Now I understand," I comment, approaching the long mirror where she is primping. She's a tall woman, but still my head appears above hers in the reflection, "Why I'm so beautiful. I got it from you."

"Now you getting it? After twenty-five years? You're dumber than I thought," she replies, trying to scrunch up her face to keep from smiling, as she opens a case with the diamond earrings I gave her last year, "We have to leave right now, before Charlie complains to your father that we're late again."

We ride down the elevator in my building and get into my mother's car, driven by the same chauffeur she's had for twenty years. Usually I would be bored and anxious to find an excuse to leave early, but this time I have a reason to be interested.

A strange man who might want to commit a hate crime against me.

We are thirty minutes late, which is nothing new. I let my mother grab my arm and we walk into the ballroom together, drawing the attention of everyone nearby.

"Juliet, honey," someone calls out to my mother. She immediately pulls me until we reach her friend and the game of greeting acquaintances begins. We go on for what seems like hours and hours, until we reach Charlie and Berenice. I greet them both with a hug and leave my mother with them to run off to Cain, as usual.

I find my friend a few minutes later, taking a glass of champagne from a waiter. I go over to have one too before he leaves.

"Hi, Pinky," Cain greets me, totally distracted by something in the distance, but hugs me anyway. Before he lets go of me, I follow his gaze until I get to what he's looking at.

Beau.

Fuck. Of course I thought he was attractive when I first met him, but today especially he looks amazing. A little out of place, but amazing nonetheless. His eyes take in everything around him with a special gleam in them, like he's hiding something.

As if he knows something the rest of us don't.

Beau puts his hand on a delicate, feminine waist, only then I notice the woman next to him. Sammy.

"Did they come together?" I ask, frowning. I could have sworn she and Cain were making eyes at each other all night while Beau was plotting my death.

"Yes," Cain replies, uncharacteristically curt. He forces his eyes away from them and turns his attention to me, "Nice blouse. Couldn't you find one with working buttons?"

"They work perfectly well, I just don't want to use them," I answer with a smile and analyze him for a few seconds. The corners of his lips are pressed together, "You're jealous."

"Jealous?" he repeats, blinking and fussing with the word as if he doesn't know it, "Only losers get jealous. And I'm not a loser."

"Okay, winner," I say, trying not to laugh. Cain has never been arrogant, he's always been the humbler of the two. This just proves that I'm right, "The other day I was under the impression that you and Sammy..."

"Nah, there's nothing there," he answers way too quickly, "Do you want to go say hi to them?"

"Sure," I answer, shrugging my shoulders like it's no big deal. Cain finishes his full glass with two giant gulps and sets it down on a table before he starts walking towards the happy couple. I save my comments for later, but make a mental note of his behavior.

Beau and Sammy are in the corner of the room, leaning against a wall looking relaxed and chatting without taking their eyes off each other, as if they were in their own world.

I walk over to them with my eyes glued on Beau, on his sweet smile that makes him look younger and that I didn't get to see the other day because his shitty mood was present from the moment he arrived.

When we're six feet away, Beau finally separates his eyes from Sammy, looking straight at me.

Just as I expected, his smile freezes and his dark eyes once again fill with those feelings I noticed the other day.

I've been openly bisexual since high school. I've been openly not-so-masculine since even before that and I've come across a sea of people who look at me with disapproval. I could say that Beau is simply one of them, but my intuition tells me there's something more in his eyes. Something more than just disgust and confusion.

There's something that looks like fear. And I want to know why he feels that when he sees me.

"Hi, guys!" Cain says, sounding extremely cheerful all of a sudden. Fake.

Sam visibly swallows and raises her eyes to Cain. I must admit, my friend has impeccable taste. Even nervous, she looks ravishing.

Cain approaches her like a brute with no manners and they do an awkward dance because they don't know how to greet each other. Sam offers her hand while Cain moves in for a hug.

It's painful to watch, so I move my eyes to Beau again. He's only a little taller than me, but he's looking at me from head to toe like he's trying to figure out what kind of creature is in front of him. I decide that moment to raise a hand and comb my hair back, aware that the soft silk of my blouse will move to show my nipple.

Beau falls into my trap and his eyes find my small nipple, as pink as my lips, but he moves his eyes to the side so as not to see; lifting his lip in a genuine gesture of displeasure. It lasts only a second before he can hide it, but I notice.

My stomach sinks and I feel ridiculous for a second.

I don't know why I did this. I guess I wanted to prove to myself that I could seduce a straight, homophobic man, but obviously that wasn't the case.

"Sammy, you're easily the most beautiful girl I've seen tonight," I say as the silence of the four of us starts to suffocate me. I take a step closer to her, bumping Beau with my shoulder, totally on purpose. I don't have to show respect to someone who couldn't even put his hatred aside at a formal event to say "hello."

"Pinky, I love your style," Sam replies, ignoring my compliment because she's too busy looking at my outfit, "And thank you. I just wore this old thing and put on a little powder, you know."

I relax a little and smile.

"Do you want to dance with me?" I ask, stretching out a hand towards her. There are few couples dancing softly to the music, she watches them nervously, "Cone on, I assure you I'm a way better date than Beau."

I don't give her permission to say anything else, I just catch her hand and save her from that mess. I don't know what the fuck happened to us, but we all acted like mindless apes for two whole minutes.

"If you need saving, here's your chance," I say once we reach the center of the dance floor, standing in front of her and catching her slim waist in my hands, "We can run away together.

"Run away? From what?" she asks, surrendering and letting herself be carried away by me. I let the soft music sway me back and forth. I took ballroom dancing lessons all my childhood, my moves are flawless.

"From Beau. He's rude," I mumble, risking a glance back to where Beau and Cain are standing right where we left them, watching us, "And ugly."

Bullshit.