Total pages in book: 42
Estimated words: 38964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 38964 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 195(@200wpm)___ 156(@250wpm)___ 130(@300wpm)
But I pretended innocence.
“You could have fooled me. It seems you’re focused on the fact that Vanity is a transwoman.”
At that, Janie’s glare turned molten.
“Shut up,” she spat furiously. “You know what? I hate you, so just shut up. Don’t give me this shit. You chatted on Matchy, you might have fucked her, and now look at what’s happened. You’ve probably lost your sponsors, and no one will hire you. What are you left with? Another chance at gold in four years? Please,” she spat. “You’re twisting my words and it disgusts me.”
Now that hurt. After all, Janie hit the nail on the head. In four years, I’d be elderly for an Olympic athlete, and especially for an Olympic swimmer. So I was an old man by my sport’s timeline. Yet, I was still Mason Phillips.
“Listen,” I said, trying to keep my voice even. “You don’t believe this celebrity gossip, do you? It’s mind-bogglingly unreal. It’s just the tabloids talking out of their ass. I’m sorry I said anything about the LGBTQ stuff because I didn’t mean it. I know you’re open-minded and kind, sweetheart.”
That made Janie stop. I knew my girl was smart, and she’d see through this.
“Then tell me it isn’t true,” she said, her voice stiff. “Tell me that you don’t have a Matchy account.”
Oh shit.
“Well,” I said slowly, “I guess I have one.”
“Tell me you’re not on it then,” she begged. “That you never use it.”
I seriously thought about lying here because the truth was that I was still on the site sometimes, even now. I don’t know how to explain it. It’s addictive, the swipe right, swipe left stuff. It’s so easy and mind-numbing that sometimes when I’m bored I log on to look around.
“Janie,” I said in a conciliatory tone, “I have a Matchy profile, but it’s not for real. I mean,” I said lamely, “it’s real but I don’t use it. Well, I use it, but not really.”
She was silent for a moment.
“Why Mason?” she said quietly. “Why would you use it when you have me?”
I was at a loss for words.
“It was left over from before,” I began lamely. “I’m a superstar but you know they had me chained up in a cage. I had to sneak out to get my rocks off, and to loosen up a bit. Matchy was just another type of release,” I said. “It was a way for me to escape the prison I was in.”
“Okay,” she said in a thoughtful tone. “But why are you on it even now?”
Why indeed? That was a good question.
“I don’t know,” I said lamely. “I guess we never had that define the relationship talk, the one where couples agree that they’re going to be exclusive. So I never deleted my on-line dating profile.”
Janie snorted. My girl was sassy and she wasn’t going to be persuaded by that, I was certain.
“Mason,” she began slowly, “just because we didn’t meet on-line doesn’t mean it’s okay to keep looking. I mean, how would you feel if I had an active dating profile?”
I’d be enraged, that’s what. Enraged and hurt, my ego shot and destroyed, knowing my lover was checking out other men.
“I wouldn’t like it,” I said.
“Exactly,” she replied. “So isn’t it hypocritical to say it’s okay for you to be checking out other women when we’re practically living together? I take that back,” she continued, “because we’re not practically living together. We are living together.”
I choked then. I knew she was right, and I had no way to defend myself. But I tried regardless, even if it came out sounding stupid.
“Well, it’s not really checking out women. On Matchy, it’s more like looking at pictures. It’d be the same as if I were flipping through a magazine,” I said in a lame tone.
I’d gone too far because Janie shook her head while taking a deep breath, the fight going out of her.
“Okay Mason,” she said in a defeated tone. “I can tell this isn’t going anywhere.”
With that, the curvy girl got up slowly before disappearing to the second level. Although I itched to get up and follow her, I didn’t. After all, I haven’t slept with anyone since I met Janie, and that’s the truth. Besides, I was Mason Phillips, athletic superstar, and this Matchy stuff would all blow over in time, right? Yet my heart ached because my stepsister and I had had a stupid misunderstanding, and now, I missed her desperately even though she was only upstairs.
16
Janie
“Dad,” I sniffled into the receiver. “I’m not sure what to do.”
“Well, what do you want to do?” came Frank’s reasonable voice. “What does your gut tell you?”
“I want to move out,” I said flatly. “I can’t stay here anymore.”
I was in Mason’s master suite, sitting on his big king-size bed. Or I should say, our bed. I’d moved in with him and no one suspected we were dating because everyone thought he was helping out his impoverished sister by giving her a place to stay. Little did anyone know, but we’d started up a relationship, spiritually and physically. The days were filled with laughter, and the nights filled with love and love-making until now. A lot of people don’t know about us, so my dad’s advice wasn’t exactly addressing the issue.