I disembarked the L and hurried down West Huron Street, my pace brisk not only because it was freezing, but also due to the thick sheets of snow hindering my vision, a strike to my senses I couldn’t afford. Though I could barely see my hand in front of me, I noticed how dim the streets were compared to years prior. With so many businesses shut down, there weren’t as many strings of lights lining the windows, the festive season finally seeming as bleak as the fall had.

Walking through the doors of The Gallery on State, I felt a swell of anticipation I still hadn’t grown used to blooming in my belly. After speaking with Cal in October, I made a habit of showing up at Abe’s speakeasy at least once a week, if only just for the proximity to him. To my surprise, every time I had come around, Cal had made an effort to speak with me, whether he sat beside me at the bar or found me in Abraham’s office. None of our discussions were as revealing as our conversation on the beach had been, but when I talked to Cal, I remembered how that day had felt. The memories reverberated through my body, making every muscle ache for his attention. His presence was comforting to me in some odd way I didn’t understand. It was as though he saw who I wanted to be and didn’t fault me for the fact that I wasn’t that guy yet and may never be.

Though I’d spoken to Cal a handful of times, I couldn’t help but be nervous around him, partially because of how attractive I found him, but mostly because I never knew what would come out of his mouth next. The questions he asked challenged me in ways I never expected, forcing me to think of things that I would readily push away and ignore if it hadn’t been for him. I wondered why he continued to engage with me, knowing I didn’t bring much more than an eager ear and longing gazes to the table. If Cal recognized my infatuation with him, he never acknowledged it, rendering our relationship a loose friendship at the most. Even an acquaintanceship was out of the ordinary for me, yet I valued mine and Cal’s.

I was far from his only companion. Not only did Cal have whatever the fuck was going on between him and Abraham, he also had a gaggle of girly-boys who followed him around as though he was their messiah. They hung on his every word, and I was desperate to knock them off and keep every softly enunciated syllable for myself.

“You’re here,” Cal said, approaching me with a smile. He reached his hand out to shake mine and I fought the urge to intertwine our fingers, to keep him.