I arrived home, exhausted from AARP’s family reunion cluster fuck, and fell backward onto my bed. I stared at the ceiling in disbelief as I thought back to the day’s events, scratch that, as I thought about the last twenty-four hours.

Generally, I considered myself a good person. I worked with kids who had cancer, I paid my bills on time, I donated my time and money to good causes, I didn’t cheat, and I kept lying to a minimum.

So why did I feel as though I couldn’t escape the F5 shit storm that was following me around? I mean, what were the chances AARP were close living relatives of the DAKS and their reunion would be the day after Shane and I’d broken up? To make it worse, their families were mostly badass! They were amazing, gracious, and fun. I felt like a polar bear that had strayed far away from the arctic, and they were the nice sand people that kept me safe from the sun’s harmful rays (harmful rays being code for DAKS, Shane’s father, and a few others I didn’t give a flying fuck about).

I needed to decompress. There was no way I could process the last twenty four hours alone, so I grabbed my phone and sent a group text.

[Me] Code YWBWTFH. Immediate assistance requested.

[Oliver] OMW

[Oliver] Wait, what is YWBWTFH, again?

[Sammy] You Won’t Believe What The Fuck Happened. Come on, man. It’s not that hard, you idiot.

[Oliver] Fuck you.

[Allé] Who am I picking up?

[Sammy, Oliver, Nick, Nelly] *raised hand emoji*

[Allé] One day, I’m going to trade-in this minivan for a two seater and you all are gonna have 2 grow up.

[Nick] You’re so pretty! 🙂 I don’t tell you that enough.

[Allé] I just rolled my eyes so hard I saw the back of my head. See you in 30 D.

*** *** *** ***

I took a shower to cleanse myself of the last twenty four hours. Once there, things took a turn. I thought about “Toxic”, by Britney Spears. It was totally Shane’s song since he was toxic as fuck. Naturally, I started singing it in the shower as I lathered my body with smell goods and sang blindly into the hot spray.

If shower karaoke was a contest, I’d come in first. In reality, the idea was borderline intrusive since it was in the shower, but I suppose people have done worse, for less.

I’d sung that song a million times, but as I sang it in the shower, a few things dawned on me. One, the song was fucking terrible and the lyrics were a joke. Two, the song wasn’t about someone being toxic in a bad way…at least, I not to me, not in that moment.

For years, I interpreted to mean that she was with someone who was cruel and toxic, but as I sang it in the shower, I suddenly saw it differently. Now it was about being so fucking attracted to someone that you can’t stop yourself, making them toxic for you. Maybe it I felt differently because of how things had gone down with Shane. After all he was a jerk, I couldn’t stand to look at him, and I hated the fact I wanted him.

I didn’t want him…yet, I did, and for that reason, he was toxic as fuck.

The realization that was not the hate song I’d assumed it to be (for the past fifteen years), was like taking a nice hot shower only to have someone unexpectedly dump a bucket of cold water on you. The song, and it’s new meaning, was stuck on repeat in my head and the more I sang it, the more Shane became burned into my brain.

I hummed the tune as I dried my hair with the extra towel then tossed it to the side as I approached my dresser. A montage of memories flashed before me—the first night we hooked up, when he asked me out, the dressing room blow job, brunch, his smile, his laugh, snuggling on the couch, kissing, and all of the times we teased each other.

I couldn’t help the smile that pulled the corner of my lips as I pulled on my tiny, eighties-style, maroon and white briefs. The humming turned into legitimate singing as I continued to think about my time with Shane.

“And I love what you do–” I sang enthusiastically before I was suddenly joined by others. “Don’t you know that you’re toxic?”

“Fuck!” I jumped backward and screamed in fright. I was so lost in thought, I hadn’t noticed the DONNAS arrived.

“Oh, boi. What had you so preoccupied that you couldn’t see or hear us?” Sammy chuckled.

“Nothing. Just a long-ass day.”

I watched as they hardly tried to contain their giggles while they all smirked at me. I didn’t really want to talk about the reason I was preoccupied so I tried to change the subject.

“You guys sure got here fast.”

“It’s rare to get a code YWBWTFH from you, so…Allé may have broken a few laws getting here—”

“Yeah, like not coming to a complete stop at stop signs, or when we’re trying to get in the van,” Nelly was clearly left unamused by the commute to my house. Allé’s smile lit up the room as he silently laughed. He leaned back against my headboard and waved his hand into the air as if Nelly was overreacting, Escort bayan which he usually did.

“Oh, stop your bitching. I was only going maybe ten miles per hour and I had the door open for you. It’s not like I was forcing you to jump between two speeding trains.”

“Only ten miles per hour! What the fuck do you think I am, a fucking Cheetah or something?” The rest of us were trying to hold back our laughter as Nelly stood and began gesturing at himself. “Look at me! I’m not that tall and I’m all torso,” he placed one hand square above his pubic bone and the other just below his breast bone. I hadn’t realized how long Nick’s and Nelly’s torsos were. Nelly then pointed to his legs, “And I have fucking pygmy goat legs!”

At the comparison of pygmy goat legs, the entire room erupted into laughter, because, it was true; Nick and Nelly did have short fucking legs. Still wearing nothing but my undies, I sat next to Allé on the bed, laughing as Nelly ranted on. He had a way of burning people, including himself, in a way that was so hilarious you couldn’t help but laugh, no matter how brutal it was. We’d been laughing so long and hard, there wasn’t a dry eye or a calm stomach in the room.

“Fuck you all. I hate every single one of you,” Nelly pointed to each of us before landing on Allé, “especially you!”

We all burst into laughter, again, as Nelly let out a huff and fell onto the bed, joining the rest of us. We knew there wasn’t any real heat behind his words. I’m sure he was angry about having to run and jump into Allé’s car like some Die Hard character, but we also knew he wasn’t actually mad. We threw around a few more comments about the ride to my house as we let the giggles subside. Finally, once everyone’s systems had been settled, Nick brought the attention back to me.

“So, I have to know. How did AARP’s reunion turn into a code YWBWTFH? I cannot, for the life of me, imagine a scenario unless…” he cocked his head to the side and his eyes widened. Instantly, he sat up straight. “Did you fuck one of them? OMG, you did!”

If all eyes hadn’t been on me before, they were now. There was a round of gasps and open mouths as they tried to process the new revelation. I rolled my eyes at their perverted minds.

“No, that’s Sammy’s job, but I have to say, Mickey was looking awfully energized and confident—”

Sammy’s face flushed as he cut me off, “We’re not talking about me. We’re talking about you.”

“Salami’s right. Continue on,” Allé nudged my side in encouragement.

I spoke slowly so they’d have time to piece the puzzle together.

“Fine. Do you remember me telling you that Thomas has a gay grandson, Kels? And that he’d be at the reunion with his friends?”

They slowly nodded their heads as each of them tried to solve the riddle first.

“Well, Kels is a nickname. It’s a shortened version of his last name.”

The guys were leaning forward, anxiously waiting for me to continue.

“Kelly.”

I could see the gears turning but nothing was catching. They’re gazes ping ponged around the room as they looked at each other for help.

“His last name is Kelly?” Sammy asked, although it was less of a question and more of him verbally processing his thoughts.

I nodded my head and they went back to their detective work. Honestly, I thought they’d make the connection right away, but clearly they weren’t the Hardy Boys. After a minute or so, Olie sank with defeat.

“What are we missing, Gordy? The only person I can think of with the last name Kelly is Shane, and obviously it’s not—” Olie’s eyes and mouth widened as the puzzle fell into place. His eyes met mine as he mouthed, oh my god. There were a few seconds lag time as the rest of the group reached the same conclusion as Olie.

Well, after everyone else had figured it out, Sammy, who was never was good at brain teasers, blurted, “Shane is Thomas’ grandson?”

It was actually kind of fun watching everyone’s reactions as I slowly revealed the news.

“Yes, but that’s not all. Aaron is Jack’s grandson, Drew is David’s grandson, and Kurt is Mickey’s nephew.”

Allé pressed his palms against his head as if the news was going to make his brain burst while Olie continued to mouth, oh my god, oh my god, oh my god. Nick and Nelly simply stared at me with their mouths agape.

“The DAKS and AARP?” Sammy mumbled in disbelief. His palms were face down by his waist while he dramatically pumped them outward as if it’d slow everything down so he could fully process the information.

I decided they’d all suffered long enough so I filled them in on everything, starting at the beginning and ending with our victory lap while we sang Journey: Don’t Stop Believing. The guys hung on every word as I recounted the events. They laughed at the funny stuff, were mad at the frustrating parts, and clapped for my victories.

“Holy crapola! If I doubted your character, Bayan escort even a little, I’d think you’d made-up the whole story. It’s so deliciously Jerry Springer.”

“What I can’t believe is, Shane is such a fucking pansy. Sure, his father’s the Emperor Douche, but Shane didn’t do anything about it. What a coward.”

“Honestly, if you’d ask me, you dodged a bullet.”

“I agree with Nick. Shane had us all booty fooled, but no more!”

Everyone cheered and threw their fists into the air as they united as one against Shane. It was like Lord of the Flies, you could feel the mutiny again Shane building at an alarming rate. It was so intense they decided we needed drinks, so we moved the party to the kitchen where Allé manned the margarita maker, making them twice as strong as they should’ve been.

There was no surprise when, three drinks (each) later, they were back in the anti-Shane rally mentality. They cheered, trash talked, made promises of physical harm and, if I would’ve had printed pictures of Shane, they would’ve burned them, instead they settled for deleting them from my phone.

During the midst of the rally, we ordered pizza and decided to do mud facials to cleanse ourselves (me) of ‘Shane toxins’. I didn’t contribute much to the campaign against Shane, mostly I let them do the walking and talking. I laughed, drank, and did facials with them, but I couldn’t bring myself to talk trash, even though I had every right to. I thought about the rude things he’d said, but I also thought about all of the times he smiled and made me laugh and the times I couldn’t get enough of his touch or his laugh. God, I was so fucking booty blinded.

I felt the mud drying and tightening on my face and touched it lightly with my fingertips, “Fuck. Is it just me or does the mud dry my face into the ultimate bitch face? I feel like I look so fucking angry by the time it’s ready to be washed off.” I could barely move my face, including my mouth, which made talking slightly difficult, everyone looked at me and started laughing.

“You look like an old, angry spinster!”

I didn’t hesitate to flip him off as I got off of the couch and stumbled to the kitchen for another drink. I was definitely past my cut off point but I didn’t care because I had nothing and no one to wake up sober for.

“Woah! Gordy’s drunk!”

I threw my hands into the air and whooped loudly at Salami’s comment which received whoops from my fellow BF’s in return. I tripped on something and barely caught myself on the counter as the doorbell rang, which was perfect timing because I needed food in my system…badly! I wildly waved my hand in the air. “Pizza! I fucking love pizza!”

Even to my drunk self I could tell my words were slurred and I had to really focus on things like walking, faces, and talking—and I even had to squint as I looked around the room. Fuck, I’m so drunk I thought as I tried to pay the poor guy at the door.

“I love pizza, too!” A drunk Salami yelled, making the underage delivery boy blush.

“Extra Salami for our little Salami!”

Sammy rolled his eyes at me while I stumbled my way back to the couch after putting the pizza on the counter, which caused half of my drink to be spilled by the time I got there. I put my arm around Sammy and leaned in close to his ear.

“I have a question for you.” I squinted at his face and slowly moved my finger until I bopped his nose, making him laugh. “You must tell us all about your date with Mickey. We want to hear about the sex! What was his penis like? I’ve never seen old man penis.”

I accidentally flopped onto the couch, which was fine because standing was too taxing, and clapped my hands together like a kid waiting for cake.

“A gentleman doesn’t kiss and tell,” he shrugged.,

The room booed and Nelly quipped, “Well then, it’s a good thing you’re no gentleman.”

I was about to press Sammy further when Allé walked into the room, holding the pizza I had abandoned. We all stood and made our way toward the island so we could fill our bellies. I grabbed a slice and tried to shove it in my face but realized I couldn’t, my face was as hard as a rock.

“Owie! My face hurts and I can’t eat my pizza,” I whined while staring sadly at the pizza I couldn’t eat.

Everyone followed suit and tried to take a bite of pizza but between the mud masks and the laughing, we didn’t get very far. That’s what we were doing, laughing and trying to pout, when the doorbell rang, again.

“Gordy, I knew your terrible tipping was going to come back and bite you in the ass. I bet he’s going to ream you good,” Olie teased.

“That doesn’t sound so bad. I like a good rimming,” I responded. I thought about the last time I’d had the pleasure and it had been too long.

The room erupted with laughter as I looked around confused, I clearly missed something. I was about to find out what the joke was when Allé Escort shouted from the front door.

“Gordy, the doors for you!”

“Who is it?”

“Some guy.”

“Is he cute?” I tried to look seductive but I think it came across angry, there wasn’t really any other options when wearing a mud mask.

“Yeah, he’s exactly your type,” Allé laughed and nodded his head.

I smiled and then furrowed my brow, which wasn’t easy with the mud mask, when I realized everyone was still laughing at something I wasn’t in on. As I stood and walked to the front door, I asked them what was so funny.

“Gordy, you’re seriously too drunk. Nick said ream, as in being yelled at. Not rimmed, as in having your butthole French kissed.”

I laughed at the mix up, turned the knob, slightly opened the door, and yelled back into the kitchen. “My bad. I stand by my statement though, I do like a good rimming. So, so much!” I was laughing as I swung the door open all the way, only to come face to face with Shane.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

“I wanted to apologize for my dad’s behavior today.”

I narrowed my eyes at him, in an attempt to try to see him better, and leaned back against the door frame to steady myself.

“Let me get this straight. You came here to apologize for the things your dad said?”

After he nodded, I half laughed then pushed off from the door frame and walked toward the kitchen, leaving the front door wide open.

“Guess what guys? Shane’s here. He wants to apologize for the rude things his dad said.”

Who the fuck did he think he was? Sure, his dad was a jerk, but that hadn’t bothered me near as much as hearing Shane talk about me. He showed up at my house and didn’t even try to apologize for the incredibly hurtful things he said. I turned around and looked at Shane, who had stepped into the house to a roar of boos from my faithful island dwellers.

“Could we talk?” Shane asked. After I hadn’t moved, he added, “In private?”

I crossed my arms over my chest and glared at him because he didn’t deserve a private conversation. “No.”

Shane released a frustrated breath as his eyes darted to the men who sat behind me, eagerly watching the drama as it unfolded. What could I say, my friends were lovers of the Arts.

Shane came closer in an attempt to create privacy by reducing the need to talk louder than necessary—the closer he was, the less others could hear. He leaned against the island, only a foot or so away…too close if you asked me. His deep brown eyes looked into mine as he pleaded.

“Listen, Donovan, I’m not only here to apologize for my dad. I’m definitely embarrassed about the way he behaved, but I came here to talk to you about last night. I want to straighten things out between us.”

I watched his lips…because I’d always liked them. They weren’t anything special, like the rest of him, but I still liked them. Seeing his yummy lips made me think about my lips, and suddenly, I was very aware of my face. The mud mask had past the point of needing to be removed and it had dried so tight that my lips puffed out like sausage rushing through a tear in the skin.

My eyes widened and I brushed my fingers against my lips. I had duck lips. The fear was real as I bolted from the kitchen and ran upstairs. I’d been wearing the mud mask the whole time I’d been talking to Shane and I probably looked like a total fool.

I cleaned my face with a hot towel then splashed some cold water to help close my pores as the rest of the guys filtered in the room.

“Oh, god. Look at my face!”

Everyone glanced at the mirror, only to notice my face was red and irritated. Evidently, you’re not supposed to leave the mud mask on for over an hour, who knew. I wasn’t the only one, Olie and Sammy also had red faces. I dug around for some soothing cream to help rehydrate and, hopefully, calm down the irritation. My face instantly felt better as I slathered the cream onto my face. Besides the residual red, my face looks incredibly good. As we walked down the stairs, I couldn’t help but make weird faces as I stretched my skin after its long incarceration.

“Now, where were we?” To be honest, I was surprised and disappointed that he hadn’t left.

Between the pizza, Shane’s arrival, and the panic over my face, I was feeling surprisingly sober. Instead of leaning against the counter, I pulled out two stools, one for me and one for Shane. I felt the seats coolness against the back of my legs and my sobering mind became painfully aware that I was only wearing my underwear. I’d already made a fool of myself, I couldn’t run out of the room again without being locked in a psych ward. I decided to play it cool, like it was totally normal to talk to your ex-boyfriend in nothing but retro style undies.

Totally-fucking-normal.

“Um…I was trying to straighten things out between us. I don’t know what you heard, but most of it, at least anything you heard me say, or even the guys for that matter, are explainable. Although, I have nothing to offer Davis on his behalf.”

I half laughed at the ridiculousness Shane had spouted. Maybe he was the drunk one, not me.