The dark corner booth where I was hiding at Xtra, the trendy new gay club to which Titus had dragged me, was a refuge of sorts. And since it was opening night, there was some kind of mask thing—cut-outs for the eyes and mouth—that everyone had to wear for the entire evening as part of the festivities. I was sure I looked ridiculous in mine, but at least I wasn’t the only one.
Thankfully, my friend hadn’t tried to dress me up. Well, he couldn’t anyway since I didn’t own club clothing. It was all relaxed jeans, Dockers, white T’s, and shirts of varying sleeve lengths thrown in. I owned one suit that I’d had since high school—and yes, it still fit, haters.
Titus, dressed in tight pants that looked like spandex and a designer T-shirt that was more holes than shirt, was dancing with another m
