The Thrill of the Chase

A Story by L. Krämer

Stacey's on a quest to find herself a fabulously gay best friend. Y'think she can do it?

“My name is Stacey Cunningham?” she said, inflecting her voice upward as if she were asking a question. “I recently graduated from Lacey? And I’m double majoring in psychology and journalism? Two subjects I’ve loved since I was a small child? I believe in saving water, and, um, gas, and organic, locally grown produce? Because I’m a vegan? And I also really really like indie funk jazz fusion music, and I’m a Democrat, and I’m a Pisces, and I like art, and I like the environment, and I like shopping, and if this psychology-journalism thing doesn’t work out, I’m gonna be a teacher because I LAAHVE kids.”

Stacey sat back down. This was the first day of the rest of her life. College. Another girl stood to introduce herself.

“My name is Deborah, and I’m from Brick, and I’m majoring in Psychology, and I’m really, y’know, kinda like that different girl, like, I’m really into indie funk fusion music and y’know I’m really like into being green and making changes and voting blue and keeping a journal because I’m, like, minoring in journalism because I have all these thoughts inside of me and I’m good with words, that’s how come I wanna do psychology because I like people and their minds and how they think.”

Deborah sat down. The professor nodded toward the next student to speak, but Deborah blurted out again.

“And I have a gay bff!”

Stacey looked over at Deborah longingly. She didn’t have a gay best friend. She wanted one badly but had never been able to find one. Now, sitting here, a freshman at Ocean County College, she had a well-defined goal: to find a fabulously gay best friend. They would go shopping, out for pedicures, discuss men, and then, one day, upon finally turning 21, share cosmopolitans like the girls of ‘Sex and the City’ and rent a loft somewhere in New York with an exposed brick wall and recessed lighting and a black leather sectional. Because nothing said hip like a black leather sectional. Ora Macbook. Which was so totally going to be her next purchase.

Stacey fiddled with her cell phone while another student stood. From her vantage point, all she could see was a tall, spindly figure dressed in all black.

“I’m Sal and I don’t wanna be here, I’m only here because I got fired from Wawa and my mom said if I don’t get another job, I have to get an education so she sent me here,” he muttered.

Stacey’s ears pricked. A male voice? Could it be? Did that mean that there was a real, honest-to-goodness MAN in her Philosophy of Poetry class?

“Um, hi, I’m Rachel? And I’m from Toms River; I got good grades in English so I’m majoring in Journalism? And maybe minoring in, uh, Psychology?”

Stacey didn’t care about what this classmate had to say, she wanted to talk to Sal. One-on-one. Now, before any of these other girls could get to him.

She continued to eye up her conquest. He sat at the desk, intently removing dirt from beneath his unevenly bitten fingernails. That’s it, she silently declared, he HAS to be gay. No straight male would practice such rigorous nail care. He is so about to be my best friend forever.

Feeling Stacey’s stare, he snapped his head up and glared at her.

“Yeah?” he asked.

A diagonal fringe of black hair fell over his face. He appeared to have brown eyes but Stacey couldn’t tell for sure.

“Nothing…I just, uh, wanna grab some coffee with me after class?”

Sal glanced at his watch. He paused for what felt like forever.

Finally, he spoke.

“Yeah, I’ll go with you. My show’s not on till four.”

Stacey squealed. She had a coffee date with her soon to be fabulous best friend! She couldn’t help but let a smile overwhelm her face. Today Starbucks, tomorrow SoHo!

For the remainder of the class, Stacey glanced over at Sal periodically, just to make sure no other girls were talking to him. She knew how possessive they could sometimes get with their fabulously gay best friends. Of course, she wouldn’t. This was going to be marvelous. Simply marvelous.

Class ended and Stacey rushed over to Sal’s desk, where he was busy carving stick figures into the cover of his notebook.

“So! ...Ready? I really really like Starbucks coffee, there’s one not that far from here, it’s at the rest stop, wanna go? It’s totally worth the drive, well I’m sure you know, I mean, it’s like, the only one around here?”

Sal shrugged and followed her out of the classroom.

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

Twenty minutes later they found themselves at Starbucks, each clutching some sort of venti-choco-latte thing. Steam rose from Stacey’s cup and billowed away as she waited for her new acquaintance to say something witty.

He didn’t.

He must be shy, Stacey concluded. She cleared her throat.

“So…what do you think of our professor?”

“Sheezakay,” Sal answered. He still hadn’t touched his drink. He sat, opening packet after packet of sugar and methodically dumping them into his coffee.

“Yeah…I really think this course is gonna be a lot of fun. I’ve always wanted to be a writer and a psychologist, and I wanna live in the city and work somewhere there, y’know? I just love New York, the lights, the people, the rhythm, y’know, like everything’s in motion and bustling and it’s just so vibrant, so real, like a living creature, and y’know, I wanna be a part of that, like around here I really can’t-“

Sal flinched.

“You okay?”

Stacey spoke again.

“Ever since I was young, I knew I belonged in the city, y’know? Like I know-“

Sal popped to his knees and hurried into the men’s bathroom.

Stacey sat for a moment; puzzled by her newfound best friend forever’s behavior. He couldn’t have to go that badly. She pondered for a moment…could her life story have been boring him? It couldn’t have been, it was the groundwork for their beautiful friendship that would soon blossom; she was just showing him that they had similar interests and therefore need to hang out more often. She sat, her eyes wandering out the window, watching the cars speed past on their way south. Her latte was long finished. In the stillness of the rest stop Starbucks, she could hear the faucet running inside the men’s restroom. She looked around; wondering if what she was about to do would offend anybody. The place was empty. There was nobody to offend. Feeling brave, she took Sal’s untouched drink and sipped it. It’d cost her as much as a gallon of gasoline; she’d be goddamned if she let it go to waste.

Sal emerged from the restroom with water dripping down his chin. Stacey reached for a napkin but before she could do a thing, Sal pulled his forearm across his mouth, drying it on the sleeve of his hoodie.

“It’s almost four o’ clock,” he said. “I need to get home in time for my show.”

“What show?” Stacey asked. “Mind if I come and watch it with you? I…I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I guess it’s alright between friends, I probably watch more TV than I should, but I just LAAHHVE the Gilmore Girls, House, Grey’s Anatomy, the OC, Desperate Housewives, Bones, CSI, Ugly Betty, CSI: Miami, CSI: New York, CSI: Chicago, CSI: San Francisco, Law and Order, CSI: Bangkok, Prison Break, CSI: St. Louis, Big Love, CSI: Alsace-Lorraine, CSI: Saskatoon, WifeSwap, Reba, CSI: Helsinki, The Tyra Banks Show, and oh, did you see the new CSI: Manahawkin?”

“No, I haven’t.”

“I’ve always been fascinated by CSI, I think I might want to study forensic psychology.”

“Well I’m watching Judy at four.”

“Judy?” Stacey asked. Was that some kind of cult sitcom with the young, hip, modern gay male demographic?

“Yeah. She’s great,” Sal said. “She’s a judge, and all these idiots come on complaining about back rent or damaged cars or something, and then she yells at ‘em.”

Oh, Stacey thought, Judge Judy. Her grandmother watched that. Why would Sal?

“Yeah. And then she comes on again at four-thirty, then after that I either fall asleep or go on the computer or something.”

“Oh, that sounds interesting,” said Stacey. She followed Sal out to his car. “So, uh, wanna hang out again sometime? I have communications class tomorrow at noon, then nothing till seven, my psychology class. Wanna, I dunno, go shopping or something? I mean, I just got paid, and I know the Gap is having some sales, I don’t know if you like the Gap or not but they have some cute stuff, sometimes, like, I dunno, maybe we could just kinda--?“

“That mall still has a leather store, right?” asked Sal.

Stacey nodded.

Sal looked to the sky, thinking about something. Then he nodded as if he suddenly remembered something important.

“They say it’ll be overcast tomorrow, yeah I’ll go. There’s this pair of shoes I wanna get.”

“Great! This is gonna be so much fun, I love shoe shopping! Two o’ clock sound good?”

“Yeah, sure.” Sal stepped into his grey-blue Honda Civic and sped away.

Stacey squealed on the inside. Just yesterday she had been lost and lonely, a hibiscus among a field of dandelions, a misunderstood complexity who longed for someone with whom she could share her innermost thoughts and desires-and now she was about to go shoe shopping with him! She couldn’t wait to get home and blog about it, cook a moderately-portioned organic vegan dinner, pick out both an outfit and an alternative for tomorrow’s outing and catch CSI: Manahawkin.

* * * * * * * * * * *

In her sheer cotton t-shirt and denim mini-skirt with leggings and Ugg boots, an outfit completed with larger-than-her-face rhinestone-studded sunglasses and an oversize fake Coach bag, Stacey was the epitome of Jersey Shore chic. She arrived at the mall at exactly one fifty-five, ready to shop till she dropped. She scanned the area, searching for Sal.

Fifteen minutes later, she spotted him. Head bowed and sitting on a bench, he seemed to blend in with the scenery.

“Sal!” she shouted, running over to him.

Her classmate looked up.

“Sal! Hey!” Stacey greeted, catching her breath once she reached him. “I’ve been looking all over for you, you got here alright? Ready to shoe-shop?!”

“Yeah…first I’m gonna get a pretzel, I didn’t eat today and’m kinda hungry.”

“Ooh I LAAHVE Auntie Anne’s pretzels!” Stacey exclaimed. “But they have so many calories!”

“I don’t care.” Sal stated. “I want a cinnamon raison pretzel.”

Stacey giggled.

“You’re so cute, you know that?” she tussled his hair playfully. “Y’know, I think I’m gonna have one too, one won’t hurt, right? Besides, I had yogurt for breakfast, I’m being good today, I’ll just have to put in an extra fifteen at the gym tonight but hey, that’s what it takes to stay beautiful, right?!”

“Aren’t you a vegan?” Sal asked.

Stacey looked at him, put off by his question.

“What does that have to do with anything?”

The two of them went to the pretzel kiosk where they purchased their snacks. Sal wandered to a bench and sat, Stacey followed suit. Her eyes wandered to the mall patrons as they walked past, shopping bags in hand.

“He’s cute.” Stacey commented as a tan, athletic-looking guy walked past.

Sal didn’t respond.

The two sat in silence for a moment. Another handsome, built young man walked past.

“Ooh, what do you think of him?” she asked.

Sal, busy text messaging, barely acknowledged her.

“I never knew this till recently, but did you notice how all the hot guys are at the mall at two PM? I never woulda thought that, but they are?! I mean, I went after school once? And they were ALL here! Isn’t that awesome? We should do this more, you know, go shopping and guy-watching together!” Giggling, she lightly punched Sal’s arm. He looked up from his text messaging.

“Let’s not.” He said coldly.

Stacey’s laughing ceased.

“Why not?”

“I could care less about who’s here at two in the afternoon. What do you think I am, some kinda queer or somethin’? “

“You…you mean you’re not?”

“No.”

Sal’s tone sliced through her. He continued with his texting.

“Are…are you sure you’re not, you know, maybe, I mean maybe you might just-“

“No.” Sal stated again. “Not at all. Not in the least.”

But he was the only guy in my Philosophy of Poetry class! And he wanted to go shoe shopping! And took good care of his nails, and and and….God d****t! Stacey couldn’t believe what he’d just told her. That b*****d! He led me on! He agreed to coffee with me, and shopping here, and, and, and…why me?! Why is it that when I FINALLY find the perfect best friend, he turns out to be straight?! Hell, if I wanted one of those, I would just ask my brother to go shopping! This is bullshit; I can’t believe I wasted all this time on him!

“You gonna finish that pretzel?” Sal asked, watching Stacey’s silent fit of self-inflicted fury.

He wants my pretzel? First the pretzel, then what?! Men are all the same, I have to get away from this pig!

“Sal, I don’t think we can continue to see each other. This might make class a bit difficult, but I think it’s for the better?”

“So no pretzel?”

Stacey stuffed the remainder of her pretzel into her mouth.

“Sal, I’m sorry, it’s just-“

“It’s alright.” He said. “I’m going to go buy my boots. If my mom doesn’t let me drop that stupid class, I’ll see you Thursday.”

With that, he headed toward Wilson’s Leather.

If my mom doesn’t let me drop the class… Stacey thought, sneering. Mama’s boy. They were all the same. Leech. She was glad to be rid of him before he wasted any more of her time or money. Such men were toxic, the kind who would weasel their way into a girl’s life by pretending to be their friend, then take what they wanted and leave her cold. Stacey wasn’t going to be that girl, she resolved. She was smart. She knew when to say no. And she just had.