A deep voice followed, “Need a lift?”
I looked over my head, noticing only a head of shoulder-length dark hair.
“On the count of three, give me what you got. One, two, three!”
Simultaneously, I pushed up as he pulled, both of us exhaling with the strain. I had very little to give, but the guy above me had no trouble lifting the bar off my chest and placing it back in the bench prongs. As soon as the bar was in place, I sat up and turned to him, forced to take several deep breaths before I could speak. For a few moments, stars danced before my eyes. When the eye show finally disappeared, I addressed my savior.
“Thanks, dude. Appreciate that.” I felt embarrassed and thankful at the same time. “That’s never happened to me before.”
“No problem. Glad I was here to help.” He tilted his head toward the front desk. “If Stacy was the only one here, you’d have been a pancake.”
Stacy was her name? I needed to get better about that.
He chuckled. “Happens to the best of us. I’ve been there.” I doubted that, but I appreciated his attempt to make me feel better. “It’s part of the initiation into hard-core training.” How did he know I was new to hard-core training? “My name’s Luci.”
I held my hand out. “Jon, Jon Fixx.”
Rather than shake my hand, he held out his right hand bundled up in a fist. Flustered, I quickly bundled my fingers together, not wanting to seem uncool as if I didn’t know the correct way for guys to say hello, and knuckle-bumped the outstretched fist.
“Germs. The more hands you shake, the more germs you gather,” he offered as an explanation. “The Japanese have it right with the bow.”
I instantly liked him. He was on the positive side of six feet and lean, muscles everywhere, the long mane of dark hair settled comfortably on his shoulders. I had trouble matching the name Luci with the guy in front of me.
“Luci, is that a nickname, short for something?” Lucius? Lucifer? I raised my eyebrows in a question.
“Nope. Just Luci, ‘i,’ not ‘y.’”
Oh, ok. “I haven’t seen you in here before. Do you usually come in at this time?” I asked.
“No, I’m usually here early in the morning, but I had a project to finish for an afternoon class, so that took priority.”
“You’re at the college?” It wasn’t a big school, so I was surprised I hadn’t seen him walking on campus. He cut a striking figure, hard to miss.
“No, I’m in my first year at the Pennsylvania College of Art & Design downtown.”
I nodded. I’d heard of the college, though I’d never been there. “I’m a sophomore over at F&M, but their gym sucks, so I come here.”
“I’ve been there. You’re right, not that great.”
As we talked, I noticed something about his eyes. They were different from most guys, but I couldn’t pin it down. Then I realized I thought his eyes were pretty, like a woman’s. The thought made me immediately uncomfortable. Why am I thinking that?
Luci said, “When do you usually come in here to train?”
I was stuck staring at his eyes, delaying my response. Suddenly, I realized Luci was wearing eye makeup. My initial affinity receded a bit. Was he hitting on me?
“Whenever I can. I don’t have a set schedule.”
“You should change that. Muscles need to be shocked, so mixing it up is good, but you need to allow your muscles to prepare. When you train the same time every day, your body knows when to get ready, revved up so to speak. You’ll get more out of your workout because your body is naturally warmed up and ready for it.”
“I didn’t know that. Thanks.” I stood there a moment, not sure what to say. I was dying to ask this guy why he was wearing eye makeup, but I didn’t want to offend him.
Luci broke the silence as he took a step backwards. “I’ve got to finish up. Nice to meet you, Jon.”
“Good to meet you, too.”
Luci walked away. I moved over to the abdominal machines and knocked out a few final sets of crunches to finish my training day. By the end of my session, I’d grown more curious about who this guy was. I figured he was gay but, hey, what the hell? As long as he didn’t hit on me, I couldn’t care less. Plus, I was lonely at college, and living in the self-imposed isolation I’d worked so hard to create for myself was taking its toll on my psyche. I grabbed my bag from the corner, still mulling over whether I should approach Luci. I definitely didn’t want my interest to be misconstrued. But before I had turned around, the strap of my gym bag over my shoulder, I heard my name called out.
“Hey, Jon, I’m heading next door to grab a protein shake. Care to join me?” Luci yelled across the gym floor as he finished up a set of curls with 60-pound dumbbells. The guy was not screwing around.
I automatically nodded. I didn’t care if he was gay or not. I’d cross that bridge when necessary. For now, I was craving a friendship more than anything, and I had a good feeling about this guy.
Sipping on his wheat grass and greens-filled smoothie at the juice bar next door, Luci provided some insight into how he ended up at the art college. I figured he was a couple of years older than me because he’d been at Penn for two years before dropping out and entering the Pennsylvania Art College. As I self-consciously drank my not-so-healthy chocolate-peanut butter protein shake, I asked him why he’d left Penn, not an easy school to get into. Very smart, wealthy people went there.
“I didn’t enjoy the formal structure of higher education. That, coupled with a desire to sculpt and draw, pulled me out of school for a semester while I figured out what I wanted to do. Eventually, as a lark, I applied to the College of Art & Design and got in. Izzy, my girlfriend, is still at Penn. She’s planning on going to med school. We trade off visiting each other. This weekend it’s her turn, so she’ll be rolling into town soon. You should meet her. I think you’ll like her.”
As I listened to Luci, I had trouble grasping who this guy was. He didn’t fit into any easily identifiable stereotype. He had an effeminate name and he was definitely wearing eye makeup. The light in the juice bar was much better than in the gym, so there was no mistaking it. I’d been hit on by guys before, so I knew what it was like and how to handle it with a polite but firm “not my thing,” but it didn’t seem Luci was doing that. However, Izzy could go either way as a male or female name. I wondered if maybe Izzy was a transvestite. All these thoughts were swirling around in my head as Luci spoke, and I could not decide whether any of it mattered, or if I even cared. I was craving a friendship, and I had liked Luci the moment we met. He stopped speaking, staring at me. Then, he asked, “Do you like the college?”
I shrugged, not sure how to answer or why he was even asking me that.
“Are you lonely there? Don’t feel like you fit in?”
I looked away, embarrassed that he could read me that easily. When I turned back to Luci, he was staring at me, genuinely interested in my response.
“I don’t have any friends on campus. I’ve never been a social animal, and I don’t fit in over there. Kinda sucks.”
“Well, you can’t say that anymore. Now you have a friend here.” Luci held his right hand out. I wasn’t sure what he intended, thinking about the whole germ thing, but he held it out a little farther, indicating he wanted to shake my hand. I grabbed hold of his hand in a strong, firm handshake. “Nice to make your acquaintance, Jon Fixx. I think we’re going to be great friends.”
Remembering there was a rave party happening that night and there would be free alcohol, I blurted out, “You said your girlfriend gets into town soon?”
Luci nodded.
“Want to come with me to a party tonight? It’s a rave. Should be fun.”
Luci demurred, indicating the party scene was not his cup of tea. I promised him we could go, check it out, get some free drinks, and then go somewhere else if he and his girlfriend weren’t c
omfortable. He considered it a moment, and then agreed.
That night, Izzy and Luci showed up at my on-campus apartment around nine o’clock. When I opened the door, I was struck simultaneously by two glaring facts before me. First, Izzy was a stunning six-foot redhead with alabaster skin and piercing green eyes. She reminded me of an elven princess from Lord of the Rings. She was thin, wearing a tight-fitting, long black skirt and snug, black sleeveless t-shirt, no bra, and thick three-inch platform heels, which placed her at least two inches taller than Luci. Her smile was dazzling. For a moment, I couldn’t think. Luci saved me.
“Jon, this is my girlfriend Izzy. Izzy, this is Jon Fixx.”
“Hi, Izzy,” I said straight to her nipples.
“Nice to meet you, Jon.”
She reached out to shake my hand when I realized I wasn’t looking at her face, so I glanced up. She shook it with a bright, caring smile that washed down on me like warm rain. Maybe Luci was on to something with his eye makeup. When I invited them in, the second thing I noticed was Izzy wasn’t the only person wearing a skirt. Luci had on a long, flowing flower-print, Grateful-Dead-groupie-type skirt with large, black Doc Marten boots underneath. Up top, he had a loose fitting blouse reminiscent of Shakespeare’s time.
Noting my reaction to his outfit, Luci said, “If a person doesn’t live his truth, he is a slave to the world around him.”
I smiled. I liked Luci more every moment. We smoked a joint together and drank some cheap wine. I discovered that Izzy was waiting to hear from the top-notch medical schools she’d applied to. I told her if she were my doctor, I’d try to get sick all the time. Once we finished smoking, we headed to the party. We passed small groups of people on the street, mostly students out looking for fun. They gave Luci sideways glances, some openly leering at him. Luci took no notice. Our banter continued all the way to the party. Both were intelligent, good conversationalists, and for the first time since I’d entered college, I felt at home with some people my age.
The party itself was not far from campus, and given the chatter I’d heard about its being a retro rave party, the majority of partygoers would be bigger fans of the Cure than N’Sync, more geeks than athletes, so I didn’t worry much about Luci’s impact there. However, things changed quickly as soon as we arrived at our destination. I’d clearly been misinformed. I saw a group of several guys standing near the entrance. The party was being held in an old warehouse, and I’d been to one party there the year before. I recognized a couple of the faces from the college’s weight room. A few of them had football jackets on. A couple more were wearing long-sleeved shirts emblazoned with the letters of their fraternity. Luci and Izzy didn’t seem affected by what we were seeing. We walked past the group of guys near the front door. Loud bass was pounding through the walls. The warehouse was three stories high, and all the windows were blacked out, giving it a creepy, Halloween feel. A trim, young guy stood at the front door holding a clipboard. I hadn’t expected this. Off to our left, a group of young women wearing short skirts and tight tops were smoking cigarettes. I heard giggles and glanced over my shoulder to catch the women staring at Luci. I looked toward Luci and Izzy, nervous about how they’d react. Their faces betrayed no emotion, both of them oblivious to the stir they were creating. I approached the gatekeeper, mustering as much friendliness as I could. He stared back. No emotion. Nothing.
“I’m on the list,” I said.
“Name.”
“Jon Fixx.”
He found my name, indicating with a jerk of his head that I could enter. I motioned to Luci and Izzy to follow me and we stepped through the doorway. The gatekeeper held his clipboard out as Luci reached him, barring them from following me.
“Your name?”
I quickly turned back. “They’re with me.”
“So?”
“Well, since I’m on the list, can’t they come in with me?”
The gatekeeper glanced over at the crew of jocks we’d passed coming in. A short, dark-haired guy standing in the center of the group shook his head with an almost imperceptible movement. He turned back to me.
“No.”
I looked at Luci and Izzy, embarrassed and apologetic. Before I could say anything, Luci smiled. “Jon, it’s okay. Let’s go. We’ll do something else.”
But I wasn’t about to walk away that easily. “C’mon, man. What could it hurt if you let us in? Isn’t this an open party?” I asked the gatekeeper.
He got serious. “Does it look like an open party? It’s a Kappa Sigma sponsored event and you have to be on the list to get in. Sorry.”
This was news to me.
I felt Izzy’s hand on my shoulder. Quietly, she said, “C’mon, Jon, it’s okay.”
Defeated and feeling a little humiliated because I’d invited my new friends to a party I couldn’t get them into, coupled with a deeper feeling that I was a loser, I turned my back to the loud, thumping music. Luci and Izzy followed suit. We had not moved even two steps when a voice barreled toward us from the group of guys standing nearby.
“Anyways, we don’t let faggots into our parties.”
Luci froze mid step, as did I. My head snapped in their direction. Luci, however, stared straight ahead. The biggest guy in the four-man group took a step forward. He looked like a gorilla-sized linebacker with wide shoulders, a large head, pugnacious nose, and military-type crew cut. A dumb, vindictive grin formed on his face, the dim look of too much alcohol. The other three guys were smirking, waiting to see how this would play out. From the corner of my eye, I could see the guy at the door squirming. He seemed uncomfortable with what his fraternity brother had just said, but he wasn’t about to call him out on it.
Having invited my new friends to this party, feeling the embarrassing sting of being turned away, only then to be coupled with bigoted ridicule aimed at them, I couldn’t take any more. I was going to make this right if it was the last thing I did. I took a step toward the linebacker. Seeing my advance, he squared up with me, stepping forward with anticipation. Luci’s hand shot out, grabbing my wrist with an iron grip, stopping my advance.
Izzy’s voice broke the silence. She turned to the linebacker. “I have a lot of gay friends. They always tell me it takes one to know one.”
I laughed out loud in spite of myself. The fraternity brothers froze. The linebacker looked like his head was about to explode.
Luci, always the pragmatist, as I would learn in time, gave a small tug to my arm and said, “Jon, let’s go.” He stepped away from the group, pulling me with him. Izzy followed suit. I was still seething that I didn’t stand up for my friends.
“That’s right, faggot. Get out of here, and take that trannie with you.”
Luci slowly turned his head, his eyes focused on the linebacker. The guys standing around him appeared unsure how to react. Luci’s withering stare wiped the smile off the linebacker’s face. Even through the dimming effects of alcohol, the linebacker didn’t miss the clear threat in Luci’s eyes. They were filled with supreme self-confidence and an underlying pain, and they said, “I’ll hurt you.” Then, Luci just turned away and kissed Izzy on the cheek. Together they took another step, expecting me to follow. I turned back to the guys, the grins returning to their faces. The alcohol and marijuana in my system gave me a false sense of bravado and impaired my judgment. Before Luci could stop me, I quickstepped to the linebacker who was still squared off at me, his feet planted firmly on the ground. I stopped directly before him. His grin disappeared, replaced with a threatening scowl. “What are you gonna do, pipsqueak?”
I pointed at his friends. As his eyes followed the direction of my finger, I kicked him square in the groin. The crunching sound of my foot connecting with his crotch was sickening. He uttered a loud bellow, falling to the ground with a thud. The other brothers stared at him in shock, but only for a moment. I was as surprised as they were at how decisively the linebacker fell
.
Then all hell broke loose.
Their recovery time was faster than mine. Three of them were on me instantly. A right cross caught me on the chin, and though I didn’t see the assailant’s face, I did see his shoes as I fell to the ground. But it wasn’t his Nike sneaker that connected with my stomach. It was a work boot that knocked the wind out of me. I was dragged to my feet, tied up in a full nelson, my arms locked behind my back with my face sticking out ready to be pummeled. I struggled to get loose but was too weak from the kick.
I yelled out, “I’ll never tell you! You can do whatever you want, but you’ll never get it out of me! You’ll have to kill me first!”
This gave them pause, confusing them for a moment. From the corner of my eye, I saw two more guys exiting the warehouse door to help their buddies. The guy with the clipboard stood frozen. Amid all the tumult, I heard Luci say above the din, “Let him go.”
The guy holding me in the full nelson turned me in Luci’s direction. The other guys, now five in total—six to be accurate, the linebacker still laid out—turned as well. From my vantage point, even though Luci was tall, it did seem a little funny that a guy wearing a skirt and a fluffy blouse was warning these guys off.
The new blond leader lunged at Luci with a right cross. Luci swayed easily to the left as the attacker fell off balance, landing on the ground face first. Two more fraternity brothers rushed in from behind me. My captor was nice enough to continue facing in their direction so I could watch the fight unfold. Luci blocked a punch coming from the right. At the same time, his left foot sent the other attacker into the air, knocking him on the grass ten feet back. The attacker curled up into the fetal position, holding his midsection. To his right, Luci followed the blocked punch with a rabbit shot to the other attacker’s face, finishing with a cross that laid him out on the ground. Luci turned to deal with the first assailant who’d come after him, but the guy was now standing beside the gatekeeper, unsure how to proceed.
Jon Fixx Page 8
