Black Sheep - A Novel Excerpt

I end up on Mike’s doorstep.

“Why is your scarf around your face?” he asks.

“Oh,” I move it away. “My cheeks were cold, or something.”

He’s not wearing a shirt.

“Why are you shirtless?”

He’s embarrassed and covers his chest. “Did you text me to tell me you were coming over?” Why is he hiding himself? Why is he acting like its wrong for me to see him in a vulnerable state?

“No. I just missed you,” I say to bring him closer. I start laughing. My smile is not catching and his face won’t move. A feeling passes between us, I am not alone. He is not happy to see me.

“You have to leave,” he tells me with no change in his voice.

“Oh, come on, Mike.”

“Go home and be with your boyfriend.”

“What the fuck?”

“Don't come here anymore.”

"My Dad just died and we’ve been in each other lives for six years and you’re kicking me out of your apartment? Are you fucking --”

“Don’t,” he yells. “Don’t do that.”

“Do what?”

“I love you.” I have never seen him so angry at me. I didn't think it was possible for him to be this angry with me.

“Mike --”

“Leave him. Leave him and be with me,” he is looking at me with such a scorching kindness, a searching hopefulness. The anger has left and this is the one moment of truth I'll see all night.

I shake my head, “Mike,” I plead. I know what he wants me to say and I can’t do it.

“I'm not going to fuck you in secret.”

“Can we talk about this?” Everything is falling down my face. I sit on his steps. I am sweating and I move my scarf down to my neck. I can’t lose him, not him, too.

“How many times have you broken up with me?”

“Are you going to tell him?”
 I know quickly that I have said something very wrong. “Don’t look at me like that. My Dad just died and I’m so fucked up and I’m not the bad guy here. You wanted to sleep with me. The two of us are doing this to each other, it’s not just me --”

“You’ve got a lot to say for the one who walked away.”


Then he turns around and a door slams in my face.

“I know you’re right,” I scream.

I want to keep holding on but the rope burns my hands.

He doesn't come back.