"Hey. Isn't it a little early for you to be up?" I asked.
"Ouch," he winced. "Actually I just got the urge to take a walk, that's all."
I grinned. He paused.
"What's up? You look like you actually have something important to say," I joked.
"Don't you ever let up???" he said, annoyed and hurt. I suddenly felt guilty.
"Sorry," I said. "What's going on?"
He hesitated for a moment. "Well, y'know that guy who used to hang at the Mocha?" I nodded. "I'm just worried about Greg. I don't know, something weird happened."
I was confused. "I'm sorry, can you say that again, with some coherence??"
"Look, I'm just saying, I'm a little concerned about Greg."
"Why?"
Greg was on the sofa. He was hung over. When he saw me, he hurriedly tried to put a long-sleeve shirt on.
"Rough night?" I asked, noticing a nasty bruise on his side.
"You could say that," he groaned.
"That's a lovely shade of purple," I said. "How'd you get it??"
"Um, uh...I don't know. I bumped into something," he muttered.
"Like a guy named Steve?" I didn't waste any time. Greg looked at me with his deer in the headlights stare.
"Mike told me." I said, saving him the breath.
"Told you what?"
"He told me that you came home looking like a beat up rug this morning, and that he thought Steve might be getting his jollies using you as a boxing bag." Mike actually didn't say all of that, but I knew Greg. If it wasn't true, he wouldn't fall for my bluff. But he teared up and sat down on the couch gingerly.
"Did he hurt you???" I said, thinking that the next time I saw Steve I would castrate him. "I'll beat the crap out of him..."
"No! Don't!" Greg interrupted. "I'm fine. I'm okay. I'm just hungover."
"Greg. Excuse me. Did you and he do it last night?" I asked. Greg nodded. "And he was the do-er and you were the do-ee??" He nodded again, sheepishly. "And you wanted him to bruise you, you wanted him to beat you up, right???" He didn't budge. "And this was a pleasant experience for you??? Greg, man, this guy roughed you up -- and if you didn't want him to do that, it's called Date Rape!! He raped you!"
"He didn't beat me up! He said... I was so drunk. I couldn't think straight!"
"Honey, if you could think straight, you wouldn't...aah never mind!" Greg looked so pathetic, I couldn't come up with anything pithy to say.
We sat there in silence, taking it all in. Finally Greg said, "God, Fran, don't tell Hugo."
