wrong for yourself … you're wrong for anybody …"
"I guess I am, Bob …" he answered quietly. He felt defenseless and beaten under the truthful phrase. The old familiar pain of exultation cut through him. It seemed only yesterday that he and Blake had stood under the shower. He remembered the kiss and felt like a captive bird.
Blake turned his head and snickered. "Well at least you know you are … That's something …"
Gaylord met it openly, reached out for the hand on the steering wheel. He felt defenseless, beaten, but he must try and regain his respect at least. "I didn't know you felt I was wrong for you … I'm sorry you feel that way. I didn't feel that way toward you. I still don't understand why you are treating me like this. It's not like you to treat anyone this way." Even as he spoke, Gaylord knew it was all over.
"How do you want me to treat you?" Blake shot back. "Like a—er … fairy queen?" He laughed a throaty laugh. The words had been an effort but he had found the right ones.
"That all depends."
"Depends on what?"
"How you'd treat a ‘fairy queen.'"
Blake chuckled maliciously. "How in the hell should I know?" He pressed on the gas and the car moved faster. "You and your 'fairy queen' make me sick," he said, and a sneer crossed his lips. "I don't see why in the hell I've messed around with a bitch like you. A God damn cheap little bitch … that's all you are … a cheap sissy bitch." He was filled with contempt and wanted his words to hurt, to cut deep and stay. "Fairy queen … huh," he growled. He threw the words savagely, and accurately hitting his goal-post, target, right in the middle. "You and your sissy ways …"
Again that word arose to mock him. Gaylord was sorry he had spoken. "Fairy queen" had only been a word, but now it came back haunting him. He sat destroyed, believing that all his dreams had toppled. The hope of regaining Blake would forever be a dream. He was lost to him and all that was good in life was lost before his need to lose himself in this man. He gazed on Blake, seeing him a wondrous being. Even as the triumph in Blake's words continued, in his head, Blake was still Blake.
