by Kage Alan
Presenters only had to read one scene or a small part of a scene so that the flavor of the overall story and writing style could be sampled. There were several completed scenes in my story that I could choose from, but the selection I would read was one I'd only recently finished. Cathleen had been working with me on the others and was more than pleased with the results.
One thing she had pointed out to me was that the more we discussed the more the story expanded, and I should really go with where it took me in longer form. It was food for future thought, but seriously, I didn't want to hear anymore food analogies where my work was concerned. I just hoped my presentation turned out better than Ryan's had a week earlier.
One class member had picked his dialogue apart and said it sounded like the inane ramblings of teenagers—wasn't she the gifted one to pick that out since the story was about teenagers? Another said the source of the main character's emotional turmoil should be more realistic than the death of his mother, that maybe the death of his dog would connect more with readers. Abby thought the main character should be suffering from the threat of a blood clot traveling right into his brain at any moment, that everyone would know that this summer might very well be his last, which would strike a major blow by making the story a true test of survival and courage. Tristan spoke up and said the story needed some tailbone, some ass. Where was the ass?
"I'm looking at him,” Ryan growled.
It just didn't add up to an aesthetically pleasing read, which would have been fine had someone not actually said that out loud. Kim considered announcing she'd gone home and played with herself after reading it, and I almost announced that it had driven me to a deviant lifestyle; but we were pretty certain he wouldn't have appreciated our comments as much now as he might have a few months back.
To add insult to injury, they loved everything about Miss Kim's tale of Diva Labahn. Abby was quick to point out what an outstanding blow it was against tyrannical males and their selfish urges. Another applauded Kim's originality, and yet one more actually offered to help her out with the scientific angle of what kind of meteor it would take to accomplish what she needed it to.
They were even nice to Rueben and his little tale of a gateway to hell in the woods behind the university unleashing horny bloodthirsty warlocks into our world in the guise of fraternity members. Abby viewed it as a blow to all fraternities about the image they were projecting. Abby had issues with blowing.
I walked into class just before it started and was pleased to see that Ryan and Kim were sitting on either side of Tristan, just like we'd planned. Precautions may not always be necessary, but they were a good thing to take. Cathleen gave me a warm smile, and I took a seat.
"One of our presenters today has a story I personally feel will be a pleasant surprise for you. We didn't quite hit it off at the beginning of the semester, and nobody really bought all that nonsense about blond vampires...” Cruel laughter erupted in parts of the room. “...but...” The laughter stopped. “...something I look for in a writer is the ability and desire to grow. Andy has been meeting with me for quite some time now and exploring deep issues of what literature is all about and the power it has to shape thoughts, ideas and minds."
That got everyone's attention. The gay guy with bad hair had been meeting with the professor? Oh, my. Scandalous.
"The story he's been working on has been expanding considerably, and I'm told he has a new section prepared for us today.” Cathleen looked over at me. “I'll let you set the scene up."
"Thank you.” I took my place in front of the class. “The story so far is about a young, naive college freshman who travels out to California with his grandmother to attend a relative's fiftieth wedding anniversary. During the party, he meets Jordan, his cousin by marriage only...” I always felt the need to clarify that particular part. “...who's gay and comes on to him. I then—sorry, Ralph then spends the rest of the story defining his sexuality to Jordan and fighting desires that have always been there, but that have been repressed because of all the stereotypes and negative attitudes society embraces about homosexuality."
A few people in the class flinched.
"Ralph finally decides to follow his heart when he realizes that the feelings he has for Jordan are real and not just some fleeting fancy. What I'm going to read to you now takes place the morning after their feelings for each other are realized."
"Excuse me.” Savath raised his hand. “But I already have a problem with the story. What kind of name is Ralph for a gay character?"
"A good one.” I looked directly at him “What kind of name is Savath for a pompous ass? Anyone else?"
Tristan had an irritating little arrogant smirk on his face and took a deep breath. Whatever he was thinking about saying was cut short when he heard a small tapping on either side of him. He turned one way and saw Ryan holding a sharp metal pencil pointed in his direction then turned the other and saw Kim with a pen doing the same thing. This was one of those precautionary measures I thought might be necessary, and was glad we were prepared for it.
"Here it goes.” I opened my folder and pulled out the freshly printed pages. Alan had offered his assistance with revisions, but I didn't know what they were, since he'd given them to me at the last second. He said I'd know them because he'd surrounded them with quotation marks. I hated not being perfectly prepared.
I couldn't remember dreaming anything much that night. After all, what could I possibly dream about when all my dreams, prior to meeting my real boyfriend at school eight months later, had just come true? We held each other the entire night, even turning over at the same time. Sometimes, Jordan was wrapped up in my arms, and sometimes, I was in his, which I enjoyed because I'd never had the real thing and didn't know what it was yet. It was the most content way I think I've ever woken up in my life—until meeting my real boyfriend at school eight months later—which is exactly how he must be feeling, too. His chin was resting on my shoulder, and I could feel his breath on my bare skin.’”
"Are you finally awake?” He whispered.
"Yes.” I didn't want this to be the typical cliche like was so often seen in bad Hollywood romances. “You know, I used to tell myself that sex was supposed to be free, given out on a plate and gorged with as many people as humanly possible, only a deeper part of me wanted to hold on to tradition and save that experience for someone I fell in love with and who was in love with me. Maybe I was just stopping myself so that I didn't make a mistake with some retarded blond slut."
"Ralph,” Jordan soothed me.
"I know. Not all blonds are retarded sluts. After all, I used to be blond—nowadays, I just have bad judgment. What I mean is that we're not in love. I haven't been here long enough, and I'm leaving tomorrow.” I fought back a lump in my throat. “But I want you to know, if I was going to be here, going to school or helping translate for poor immigrant workers...” I shook my head. “I might possibly fall in love with you if I knew I wasn't going to meet some-one back at school eight months from now."
He pulled me closer to him.
"I knew last night that I was go-ing to have to leave, but I wanted to share myself with you anyway. Hence, poor judgment. I wanted to know what it was like, and I wanted it to be with you. Does that make me a tramp?"
"No, it doesn't.” Jordan turned me over to face him. “It takes two willing people to do what we did last night. There was nothing one-sided about it at all, though I may be guilty for starting this—and I am. I may have made you face something you weren't ready to yet—and I did...” He paused and put his hand on my chest, fondling my manly hair. “And if you were going to be here for a while, I know I'd fall in love with you—if you weren't going to meet someone back at school eight months from now.
"Short, sweet and to the point.” Cathleen stood up when I stopped and joined me at the front of the class. “As always, I'll reserve any additional comments I have until after everyone else is through. Who'd like to start? Devon?"
"I think it's disgust
ing!” Devon's face contorted. “The mere thought of two guys in bed together like that makes me sick to my stomach."
Aha! There was the first victim I was looking for.
"Severe.” Cathleen looked at me. “Would you like to respond to that?"
"I'll wait.” I needed to be patient.
"Realistically...” Tres volunteered to take a stab at me next. “...I don't think love could ever play into a relationship like that. That kind of relationship in itself is the lowest of the low with the dirtiest common denominator. They might be able to fool themselves into thinking it's something more than lust, but that's all they'll have in the end."
Here was my second.
"That and a sore ass...” Orion mumbled. A third.
"I don't know how any of you can be saying all this.” Posha looked totally perplexed. “Human beings are romantic by nature, so why can't two men be romantic towards each other?” She didn't give anyone the opportunity to answer her question. “I think his story is incredibly realistic as far as emotions and intentions go."
"I don't know what to think,” Leonardo added. Okay, he was clean.
"Me, either,” Conor agreed. Another innocent.
"I don't think there's anything redeeming about it at all.” Tyce was gazing up this way, but he refused to look me in the eye when he spoke. Okay, so now we were down to...
"I can't believe you wasted our time with that.” Winfield was the last one I expected to hear anything from, at least from the guys. Rueben would keep his mouth shut because I knew he felt he had to. One didn't rock the boat when one thought everyone else would smack you with their oar.
"Well!” Abby stood straight up and raised her fist high into the air. “I think it's a major blow for—"
"Shut up!" everybody shouted in unison, and she nearly fell onto the floor trying to sit down again.
"Anyone else?” Cathleen scanned the room.
"I'd like to know what your inspiration was for writing the piece.” Kim's timing was perfect, as was Alan's. That was his cue to appear at the door, which he did, and deliver a message.
"Excuse me, Professor Gevaultski?"
"Yes?” Cathleen smiled. She was always nice to the messengers, just not the prey ... mainly us.
"I'm sorry to interrupt your class, but the secretary in the English Department said you have an urgent long distance phone call."
There really wasn't a phone call, but if there had been, she had to find out where it had been transferred to, since the little light on her office phone wasn't lit up and administrative assistants sometimes made mistakes. Unfortunately, the admin had just left for lunch, which meant she wouldn't be able to track her down for at least half an hour. Aren't we clever?
"I'll be right there,” she informed him and Alan left. “If everyone will excuse me,” Cathleen addressed the class, “I'll be back in a few minutes. Please continue the discussion and keep things civil. Let's try to remember that we're here to improve ourselves, not act like assholes.” And with that, she left.
"Well.” I took over. “I'm glad you asked what my inspiration was for writing this story."
"Yes,” Tristan mumbled, “how convenient."
"You'd know about convenience, wouldn't you?” I turned to address everyone else. “I originally started writing this because it shows a different side of something most everyone looks down upon."
"It might be different, all right,” Tristan shot back, “but it isn't real. Nothing like that is."
There were grumblings of agreement.
"You see,” I leaned forward, “that's where you're wrong. That story is real because that's exactly what happened to me last summer."
Well, I'd taken a few liberties when writing it down, like the manly hair, names, dialogue and several other odds and ends. Alan had taken a few liberties himself, which I fully planned on discussing with him later.
Anyway, there were a few gasps in the room.
"I would have preferred to keep it to myself because I believe sexuality is private.” I looked directly at Tristan. “But then you came along. You might even say that you've been part of my inspiration for writing it, especially after what I began to suspect a few weeks ago.” I turned back to everyone else. “Doesn't it strike anybody as curious why most of the guys in here feel there's nothing redeeming about my story? Those of you who spoke up agreed with each other, only I'll bet you don't know why."
"None of us have to sit here and listen to this.” Tristan started to stand up, but Ryan and Kim each grabbed one of his arms.
"Sit yo bitch ass down!” Kim locked eyes with him. He sat.
"I'd like to know what you're getting at.” Posha spoke up and gave me some much-needed room to work with.
"If it makes any of the guys in here feel any better, if I didn't know differently, I'd be agreeing with you. It just amazes me that none of you even know why you're agreeing with each other. Isn't it obvious?” I tried to make eye contact with them, but they kept turning away. “Let me rephrase the question. Is there a guy in here other than Ryan, Conor and Leonardo who Tristan hasn't succeeded in getting into bed?"
I was definitely getting the reaction I wanted, since all the guys’ eyes nearly popped out of their heads.
"I fell for his lines, too.” A few more gasps.
"I haven't,” Devon insisted.
"Like hell you haven't!” Orion shot back at him. “Who do you think the third person in the room with you was?"
"That was you?” Devon's face turned bright red. “Bitch, cut your toenails."
"Before we start throwing desks and getting generally ugly with each other, I'd really like to finish what I started out to say.” I let things calm down a moment before continuing. “I know that some of you who've had sex with him are straight. Obviously, he has a very persuasive manner, and if your experience with him was anything like mine, then believe me when I say that I completely understand any bitterness or hatred that you have towards him and gays in general. Fortunately, you just have to live with one really lousy ninety-second experience. It could have been worse.
"None of you was harassed on the phone, flashed pictures of naked men while talking to a friend in a public place, had an ad taken out in the campus newspaper citing you by name to come out of the closet and none of you were taken to a bathhouse."
People were too stunned to even gasp anymore.
"And it didn't end there. Since he couldn't get to me directly, he started having gay literature sent to my straight friend's house where his parents might see it in the mail, which they did."
Yep, people were pretty much dumbfounded.
"None of you experienced this because none of you ever said no. You gave in and hoped he'd move on, and he did. I told him no, something he's not used to hearing, and I've been paying the consequences ever since.
"Men have been using subtle forms of pressure on women for years. Maybe some of you have even done it. If you have...” I looked at the guys who'd slept with Tristan. “...how does it feel to have it done to you? How does it feel to be used and treated like an object instead of a human being? Not good, is it?” I paused again and collected my thoughts. “If there's one thing I want all of you to know, if there's one thing I feel is important for you to understand, it's that not all of us are like Tristan. The guy in my story from California is one example, and another would be the boyfriend I'm with now.” This caught Tristan's attention. “He doesn't cheat on me or ignore my feelings or treat me like a piece of meat. We think we're in love with each other."
Alan and I really needed to revisit that last statement. It just didn't sound as cute in public.
"You know...” I stood up straight. “...my mother used to tell me that not everything in life is funny or a joke, and I never believed her until this semester. My mother also says that things happen for a reason, and that really pisses me off because she's right about that, too. I know what I came away from this with.” I walked over to where Tristan sat glaring at me and I glared right
back. “But do you? Let me make it simple for you—here's your wakeup call. You're an asshole, and while you can continue being an asshole, you aren't going to do what you've done with us to anyone else."
I turned to the rest of the class and saw that they were focused on him, too.
"Knowledge is power. You now all know what's been going on and what he's capable of, so spread the word. The Lord of the Loins is no more. His reign ends now!"
"No, it doesn't."
I heard Tristan stand up.
"Oh, for crying...” My back was still to him. “At least have the decency to make an exit with your pride still intact."
"I hope your boyfriend knows he's getting you used,” Tristan announced for everyone to hear.
"Saying that isn't going to get my goat.” I still refused to turn around and look at him. “My Siberian husky has more attitude than you."
"You won't be able to stay with him twenty-four hours a day. Sometime, when you least expect it, I'm going to be there nailing your boyfriend's ass when you walk through the door, and you're going to stand there and watch me finish.” He had grown as cold as the weather the first day I'd met him. “Turn around and look at me! I'm going to tell him how much you liked it and how you picture my face instead of his. And when he goes to bed at night, he'll have to live knowing he'll always be second-best with a third-rate prude. I can destroy your boyfriend's happiness along with yours and get off all at the same time. What do you think of that?"
There was a moment of silence, and then I did turn around.
"I think you just got my goat."
I did something then that I'd never done before in my life. Tristan got laid all right—laid out right back against the wall and onto the floor. My fist connected just under his jaw and snapped his head up and back. The bitch went down!
