Adam (23 page)

“Sorry I'm rushed,” she said. “I got home from work kind of late, and I sort of had to hurry.” She led him into her room, which was bright and colorful; there was music playing. Adam felt so nervous, all he could hear was the song.

“Jolene! Jolene! Jolene, Joe-leeeeeeeeene.”

Gillian fussed around with something on the top of her dresser. “Just a doodad. I like doodads . . .” She handed Adam a tiny porcelain elephant with a proud raised trunk, which he examined with intense interest.

“Cool.”

Gillian fumbled with the music, louder, then softer.

“OK, so tonight you're going to meet Claire and Lauren—you already met Claire at the party—they're my roommates, and then also Jackie and Nadia—they're a couple too. This girl Kate might come, I hope she doesn't, but she might. I don't like her.”

That Gillian was acting so nervous made Adam feel calm. She was nervous because she liked him.

“Do you want a beer?” she said.

“Sure.”

Gillian left and Adam looked around the room. Box set of
My So-Called Life.
Framed postcard of a yellow-on-blue painting that said: OOF. Soccer trophies. Everything seemed to buzz with color. He felt as if he was in a Disney movie and wouldn't be surprised if all the objects suddenly jumped to life and started singing and dancing. The
I
♥
NY
mug by the bed singing,
“Jolene! Jolene!”
to the bashful lamp, swinging her lampshade tassels.

Gillian came back with the beers. Amstel Light. Adam took a long swig, and as he swallowed, he could feel the trans lie—which had previously coated all his internal organs, lined the underside of his skin—begin to wash away. Just disappear. For the first time, he was certain there was a solution to his problem. A specific fail-safe way to make this work. He wasn't sure what the solution was, but he was positive it was there. So positive the truth of it felt like a tangible thing he could hold. Gillian leaned in and kissed him. They tumbled onto the bed.

“We probably shouldn't . . .” she said. She grinned at Adam and played with the collar of his shirt. “We have to leave in, like, ten minutes, and I'm not going to want to stop if we start.”

The way she said this made Adam's dick throb. He rolled over onto his stomach.

Gillian brushed her red hair behind her ears. “So . . . what did you do today?”

“Looked for Jewish stuff,” said Adam.

Gillian broke out laughing. “What?”

Adam beamed. When he made her laugh, it felt as if he were the only person that could do that. “Well, I told you about my roommate June, right?”

They laid their heads against Gillian's pillows, and Adam told her all about June and the Jews and the cesspool bathtub and the cut-out Stars of David and June's horror-movie silhouette with the menorah in the door frame and the disappointing plumber. He did June's shrill, anxious voice and Casey's bored-unless-talking-about-Hazel voice, and Gillian laughed and played with Adam's shirt and gave him the amused look, and Adam felt as if he were transforming, right in front of her, in front of all the watching objects in the room, into the perfect version of himself.

“I just like you so much,” said Gillian.

I love you
, thought Adam.

“I like you too,” he said.

“I love your hair . . .” Gillian pulled on Adam's bangs. “And your eyes . . . and your nose . . . I'm really attracted to you.”

They leaned in and started kissing again.

“I have something to admit . . .” said Gillian, breaking away for a moment. She put her hand over Adam's shirt, on his chest. Adam clenched his perfect pecs. He was perfect.

“Yeah?” he asked.

“I kind of have this fetish . . .”

Adam put his hands under Gillian's shirt. Nothing was so soft. Nothing was so smooth.

“A fetish?” he said.

“Yeah . . .” said Gillian. She paused. “A Jew fetish.”

Adam laughed and they kissed again.

“You are Jewish, right?” said Gillian.

“Well, actually I'm . . . yeah. I'm Jewish,” said Adam.

“I've always been obsessed with Jews,” said Gillian. “When I was nine, for Christmas, I asked my mom for Hanukkah nuts.”

“Hanukkah nuts? I don't think there's such a thing as Hanukkah nuts.”

“I don't think there is either. I think maybe my mom just knew I wished we celebrated Hanukkah so she got me regular nuts and told me they were Hanukkah nuts. And then I brought this tin to school asking everyone if they wanted some of my Hanukkah nuts.”

Now they were both laughing and kissing, and needing to stop kissing to laugh.

“Too bad you weren't friends with June,” said Adam. “I'm sure she would have been happy to cut you out some Stars of David.”

“I'm scared of June,” said Gillian.

“Me too,” said Adam.

And Gillian laughed and rolled on top of him, and they almost fell off the bed.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Be there in a minute!” said Gillian. She stood up, her face bright red. “Is my face red?” she asked Adam.

Adam nodded. Her face always got red. He loved it.

“Great, they're totally going to make fun of me . . .” Then she smiled and leaned down and pressed her lips to Adam's. “I don't care.”

***

Adam, Gillian, Claire, and Lauren sat on the C train heading into the city. The train was old and rickety and kept jerking at random moments. Adam liked the newer trains that ran smooth and had electronic boards informing you where you were and where you were going. With these old trains and the garbled announcer's voice, it was impossible not to get lost. Adam didn't have to worry about that with Gillian's group, though. He was just following.

“Kate's not coming, is she?” said Gillian.

“Of course she's coming,” said Claire.

“Do you think Nadia ever cheats on Jackie with her?” said Lauren. “I mean, she definitely hangs out with her more than her.”

Adam was having trouble keeping track of who was who. Everyone was “her.” He could barely even keep Claire and Lauren straight. They looked identical. They both had black plastic glasses and bleached-blond hair and were wearing tight baseball tees. One blue, one green. He wondered if when they couldn't be together it was useful to masturbate in front of a mirror.

“Kate's still in love with Nadia, and Nadia loves the attention,” said Claire. “Can you imagine Nadia giving up hanging out with someone who worships her? Yeah, right.”

Adam had always wondered about the whole gay masturbation thing. If you have the body parts you're fantasizing about, couldn't you just touch your own and pretend they were someone else's? Like when he sat on his hand to make it numb before jerking off. Being attracted to vaginas and having the option to touch one
whenever you wanted.
He felt wildly jealous. Something about it just must not work.

“Nadia and Kate are best friends,” said Gillian to Adam, trying to include him in the conversation. “They call each other ‘non-sexual life partners' and even have matching rings.”

“That's weird,” said Adam.

“Nadia really wants to go to Bound after,” said Lauren.

“Should we?” said Claire. “Do you want to?”

“Oh god . . .” said Gillian. “Really?”

“You've never been! You have to go!” said Claire. “Come on, we should go. It's only fun if we all go. We have to all go.”

Gillian gave Adam a nervous look. “Would you totally hate it if we stopped by this play party?”

Adam didn't know what a play party was.

“Yeah, sounds great!” he said.

“It's not going to be, like . . . a problem, is it?” Gillian asked Claire.

“Huh? What would the problem be?” said Claire.

“Like, ‘Women Only,'” said Lauren. She gave Claire a look.

“Oh!” said Claire, and she blushed and gave Adam this really big awkward smile.

“I'm sure it's fine,” said Lauren. She flicked Claire in the shoulder with her index finger, and Claire put her head in her hands to cover her face.

“Bound is totally cool with trans folks,” Lauren continued, looking at Adam.

“Cool,” said Gillian.

“Cool,” said Adam.

“They just don't want, like, nasty bio straight men getting off on lesbians, you know?” said Lauren.

“Ugh. So repulsive,” said Gillian.

Everyone sat in silence for a moment.

“When did you . . . How old were you . . . when you transitioned?” Claire asked Adam.

“Seventeen,” said Adam.

“Cool,” said Claire.

Gillian took Adam's hand and squeezed it.

“Wow, that's really young,” said Lauren. “Your parents must be really cool.”

And then, Adam had no idea where this came from, but he found himself saying: “I'm kind of fucked up over gender stuff. I don't really like to talk about it.”

And everyone nodded as if he'd just said the most serious, profound statement they'd ever heard.

“Word,” said Lauren. “My friend Chaz is trans. He doesn't like to talk about it either. That shit is private. People are always asking me, ‘Has he had surgery? Does he have a penis?' It's like, ‘Whoa, do people go around asking
you
about
your
genitals?' Didn't think so. Chaz just dissociates from what's down there. He doesn't want anyone going down there, not even a fucking doctor . . .”

And then Adam knew. He knew the solution. He knew how this was going to work. He would never tell Gillian the truth, and she would never be able to touch him. He would be so fucked up over gender stuff, he would never want to talk about it, and he would never let her take off his clothes. A pang hit his heart. But it was the only way. This was how they could be together. Maybe it would mean wearing three pairs of briefs to keep his dick in check, but so be it. And he would still have his hands and his mouth, and he could still touch Gillian all over her body, in every way possible, and make her feel good and maybe even make her come, and he knew it was worth it—there was no question in his mind this was worth it.

***

“But the truth is I'm just a big nerd.”

They were seated at a loud Mexican restaurant, drinking salt-rimmed margaritas and eating greasy chips and salsa. The girl named Nadia had been talking pretty much nonstop since they got there, mainly about what a nerd she was. Nadia was gorgeous—long black hair, huge blue eyes with dark eye shadow, delicate features, and from what Adam could tell, under her tight, lacy black dress, a perfect body. There was no way this girl ever was or ever could be a nerd. Claire and Lauren, yes. Nadia, no.

“It's really funny, like, all my clients, my regulars, they have this huge fantasy of me over the phone, and they have no idea what a giant nerd I really am. It's kind of hilarious. They have no idea I'm doing it for my writing.”

“Is our food ever gonna get here?” said the butch girl named Kate.

“What do you do, Adam?” asked Jackie. Jackie was butch, too, and black.

You're black
, thought Adam.

“I'm, uh, applying to colleges,” he said.

Gillian smiled at him.

“I live in Piedmont . . . Northern California. I'm staying with my sister for the summer. She's at Columbia.”

The waitress came by and dropped off their food along with a second round of margaritas.

“About fucking time,” said Kate.

Everyone started comparing dishes and giving one another little samples of each.

“The truth is I actually kind of suck at it,” said Nadia.

“That one time I watched you do it, you were horrible,” said Kate. Adam had noticed that Kate was always either complaining about something or insulting Nadia. He thought about June, always complimenting Casey. When you like someone, you either compliment them all the time or insult them all the time.

“They only hired me because I'm white,” said Nadia. “Because I have a white voice.”

“What the fuck?” said Lauren.

“Seriously,” said Nadia. “It's really fucked up. When I went for the audition, it was like me and seven black girls, and the first thing they told us was that when the client asks what you look like, you have to say you're white. It's, like, a rule.”

“God, no wonder I have race paranoia,” said Jackie.

“What's race paranoia?” said Adam. He felt comfortable addressing Jackie because she had talked to him.
“What do you do, Adam?”
Kate and Nadia he was scared of.

“It's when you think everything has to do with the oppression of black people,” said Jackie.

“I think everything has to do with the oppression of gay people,” said Gillian.

“My mom thinks everything has to do with the oppression of women,” said Claire. “She's, like, still stuck on
The Feminine Mystique.
”

Everyone laughed.

Adam tried to think of something to chime in with. He wanted to show Gillian he could get along with her friends.

“Another rule is no masturbating,” said Nadia.

“What? Ew!” said Claire.

“Well, it's not crazy, actually,” continued Nadia. “I mean, you're spinning these erotic tales, sometimes you can get really caught up in your own story. I've found myself, like, venturing down there without even noticing.”

“How much longer do you feel like you need to do this?” said Jackie.

“The worst rule, though,” said Nadia, “is that you're not allowed to ever hang up on the guy. No matter how disturbing the call might get—well, unless they bring up children, then you have to report them or something. Rape's cool though. In general, only they can hang up on you.”

“The time I watched you, you got hung up on like eight times in a row,” said Kate, laughing.