by Kage Alan
Something then dawned on me, and several long moments of silence passed.
"I am soooo going to get sued for that."
"How can he sue you?” Orion finally spoke up. “I just saw someone pass out, hit his head against the wall and then his chin on the desk on the way down. Bruises and bump ac-counted for."
"Yeah,” Conor agreed. “I thought maybe he was just really overtired from staying up late studying, or doing that thing he apparently does so often.” He turned to everyone else. “Didn't you all get that impression?"
They appeared to.
"You just saved me from paying him a little visit of my own after class.” Winfield cracked his knuckles. “And I wasn't going to be as nice as you."
They might have unusual names and funny ideas about what makes something an aesthetically pleasing read, but unite them with a common enemy and they weren't so bad after all.
"The next time I hear someone use a line like ‘let me show you how the guards do it,’ I won't ask him what he's talking about!” Tres was still in a daze.
"And you said violence was never an answer.” Ryan smirked, and helped me pick Tristan up and set him down in a chair. “But, seriously, Andy—manly hair? You don't have any chest hair."
"Were you looking at me when we changed at the pool?” I know. I couldn't not throw that one back at him.
"Fuck you."
"Oh, my.” Cathleen's voice startled us. “What happened?"
All the eyes in the class searched around looking for someone to speak for the group.
"The consensus is that he passed out.” I took the lead, and they were all relieved. It was kind of my fault, anyway, and it was the least I could do since I'd aired some of their personal dirty laundry in front of everyone.
"Well, did you get to finish the discussion about your story?"
The entire class nodded at the same time.
"I seem to have missed it. Well, while we had a few other presentations scheduled, we seem to have a bit of a situation here, so for the two or three of you who haven't presented yet, this is your lucky day to go finish anything that's not done."
No one moved.
"That was everyone's cue to leave so that I can attend to your unconscious peer."
Everyone scurried like hell to get out of the room. Well, everybody but me. I took my time.
"Oh, Andy?"
"Yes?” I stopped just short of the door and turned to see her bending over Tristan's still-unconscious body.
"My phone call got lost somewhere in the system, and when I came back upstairs, something told me I should take a quick cigarette break ... or maybe it was a voice I heard.” She knew what happened! “It was a pretty powerful voice, too, and it impressed me. I'm not easily impressed anymore, so wherever it came from and whoever it was, they deserve to be told ‘good job.'” Cathleen lifted Tristan's head and felt the lump on the back of it that must have formed by now. “Are you sure everyone agrees that he passed out?” she asked, just to be sure we had our story straight. “Just in case I'm asked by the dean, I'd like to be certain."
"Oh, yeah. One minute he was on his feet and the next ... right where he usually is."
"Good.” Cathleen looked up and smiled at me. By God, she was really smiling.
"Any other wisdom you care to impart upon this student?” It seemed like a good way to finish the conversation.
"Yeah, listen to classic Heart."
"You mean like ‘Little Queen,’ ‘Kick It Out’ and ‘Heartless?’”
"I see you looked them up.” She actually looked impressed.
"What makes you think I didn't know them all along?” I was, after all, a connoisseur of music. “When he comes to...” I nodded that I understood what she doing for me, and that I appreciated it. “...tell him I said to keep his chin up."
"I'll do that."
I turned to leave, and she added one last comment.
"Personally, I don't know what any of you ever saw in him anyway. Tristan may be a talented writer, but what a slut!"
"If I had a dollar for every time I've heard that, I wouldn't need any student loans.” In a strange twist of fate, if it hadn't been for Tristan, I might never have met Alan and ended up in a healthy relationship. Now, where was my little nest of vipers? I had a few revisions of my own for him.
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Epilogue
Kim, Ryan, Alan and I hardly saw each other in the two weeks that followed the Tristan intervention. We had final papers to research that should have been completed a week prior, final presentations to prepare the night before we presented them and final exams to cram for the morning of. It was just too hectic, but we did manage to all get together one final time before some of us returned home.
I think Ryan would miss us the most, since he was the only one who lived in the area year-round and would have constant reminders of our absence. Alan and I probably had the best deal, since we lived so close to each other; and the kind of reminders we enjoyed could be relived any time we got together, provided our parents weren't home. Parting was sweet sorrow, and did sorrow ever perfectly describe the past four months!
Tristan gave his presentation to Cathleen in private, since he was having a difficult time talking. Then he disappeared from sight without a peep. Someone told me he was showing up for his exams, but that was it for any public appearances. Word apparently got out that he couldn't be trusted, much like Rob Lowe with a video camera and a sixteen-year-old girl.
Ryan's parents continued to wonder about his sexuality until Kim left a message on their answering machine asking that he call her because she was a week late and still wanted to know why he had insisted on using a glow-in-the-dark condom when it said right on the package that it was for novelty purposes only. That put an end to any nonsense they might be thinking, and Kim was more than happy to help him out. Doing something “baaaad” made her feel “baaaad” and feeling “baaaad” also made her feel “goooooood!” Meow, meow, meow.
The three of us signed up to take another class together the next semester, and Alan and I signed up to room with each other. None of us was sure if what we were doing was smart or particularly sane, especially after how this semester had gone and the way Murphy's Law loved to rear its ugly at the most inopportune times, but we were stronger now. We had the right stuff and were hanging tough, only we weren't ready to sing about it in some damn pop song.
I also no longer needed that New Kids On The Block cassette, since my boyfriend looked pretty damn good in a pair of jeans himself.
Alan was proud of me for sticking up for what I believed in and earning a little respect while doing it. In turn, how could I second-guess the intentions of someone who stood by me through the entire ordeal and still wanted to see me—on a romantic level, no less? These were our first steps together as a couple and while they were a little shaky, we had our feet planted on firm ground. What's more, we're committed—he's committed to telling me what to do while I'm committed to keeping his life interesting and making him repeat everything at least twice before I disregard it anyway. It all balances out.
The four of us met up in my room and brought one item each to share. The idea was that at least two of us would bring food and the other two would bring something to drink. I provided Coronas, Alan sent me down to the machine to buy several cans of Coke since I was out, Kim brought wine and Ryan brought champagne. This presented us with a slight problem until we unanimously decided to order pizza, which then presented the problem of deciding what we wanted on it, since we all liked and disliked different things. In the end, we each got our own small, and when no one was in any hurry to volunteer to drive and pick them up because we'd all had a Corona—even Alan joined in this time—and started on the wine while bickering about the toppings we wanted, we decided to just have the pizzas delivered.
"I thought you had something more planned than just telling everybody about him,” Kim whined when the subject of Tristan came up. “Until you hit him, and
I about...” She stopped short, but her chest was heaving. “I can't say what I was about to do because you're gay and wouldn't appreciate it. Alan...” She turned to him. “...allow me to say that he defended your honor, and if I were you, I'd have shown him my appreciation that night in ways a girl would have to use a dildo for."
"I did.” Alan raised an eyebrow while wine nearly came up and out Kim's and Ryan's nose.
"Where was I?” I wanted to know.
"Why didn't we just castrate him?” Ryan asked between coughs. “It would have been simpler and had a much longer-lasting effect."
"You guys are unbelievable.” Had they learned nothing? “I don't understand why you can't see the big picture. Let me walk you through it. How does anything bad start around here?” Oh, good. Blank, vacant looks. “Let me rephrase that. How do rumors begin? Word-of-mouth. Tell one person, they tell another and that person says something and it keeps going and going. Now, what if twenty people heard something at the same time? It's going to spread like wildfire, and reputations are made or broken by word-of-mouth. How many guys do you think Tristan is going to be able to get into bed now?"
"He'll just go off-campus.” Alan sighed.
"I can't do anything about that, but hopefully he'll think twice about messing with somebody else here.” One could hope. And speaking of hope ... “I forgot to tell you guys that I found out more about that group Professor Gevaultski is a member of, the one she told us about during our first class. At the end of each semester, the best story and a runner-up from each school are sent in and compiled into one large book, then distributed to the universities who participated. Once there, it's put on display in the English office and made available to the students."
They were following me so far.
"She wanted to see effort from someone in the class, and because I demonstrated that, she's sending mine in for first place!"
"Runner-up.” Kim looked away from me.
"Excuse me?” Did my thunder just get stolen?
"Runner-up.” She looked uncomfortable. “Diva Labahn took first place."
"You're shitting me?” I should be happy for her. I should. I'm not, but I should. Alan seemed to think it was amusing, though.
"You know.” Ryan finally spoke up. “I was willing to give it to the gay guy just because we never hear any of those stories, and there are already a number of camp tales, but Diva Labahn? What the hell is that?"
"Apparently, it made for an aesthetically pleasing read.” Kim grinned from ear to ear. “Meow, meow, meow.” She turned back to me. “Who did you make your dedication out to?"
"I dedicated it to Alan."
He looked up at me, his mouth wide open, while Kim made an “awwww” sound.
"At least he's not related to you this time,” Ryan muttered.
"What's it say?” Kim pressed.
"'For Alan, who changed my life with three words.’”
"That is so sweet!” She actually looked misty-eyed. “The first time a man ever dedicated a piece of writing to me, my father ended up seeing it in Penthouse. Imagine my surprise when I remembered he was a subscriber. So, what were the three words?"
"'Touch me here,'” I quipped, and Alan automatically smacked me. “Ouch! Actually, he said ‘here, touch this.'” He swung again, but this time I ducked and we all laughed. “Come on, Kim. What do you think he said?” It was pretty much a commonsense thing.
"The only thing I want to know more than that...” Kim looked back and forth between Alan and me while licking her lips. “...is whether you put his eggroll in your steamed bun the night we got back from spring break."
"Kinda personal.” Ryan tried to jock-block her for us.
"Kinda have to know anyway,” she shot back.
"You're bound and determined to think I'm the one getting it up the ass, aren't you? Well, let me just say this.” I took the floor. “We've all been pretty open about our roman-tic interests in the past, some more than others, and some lots more than others.” Kim knew who she was. “However, when the right one comes along, you find it's not always necessary to leak details to the enquiring minds who want to know, because it somehow cheapens that something special you have with your significant other.
"So, while I won't give you any specific details, I will share something I learned recently. All those stereotypes about Asians lacking in a specific area ... sooooooooo not true!"
Kim squealed in delight, and Alan lunged.
"So, what did he say to you?” Ryan tried to get things back on track.
"He said..."
"I love you."
All heads turned to Alan.
"Wow. I thought you guys only thought you were in love?” Kim sat there stunned. So did I, for that matter. It was one thing I just never expected to hear him say in front of anybody else, friends or strangers, without, you know, thinking about it.
"Now, that's not something you hear every day.” Ryan shook it off.
"Yeah, but mostly because he usually adds the name ‘goofy’ to the end of it.” I laughed at my own joke.
"No,” Ryan corrected me, “I mean it's not something you hear every day.” Now he was smirking. Bastard.
"I can tell you weren't breastfed as a child.” I flipped him off.
"Andy?” Apparently, Alan had more to say. “You've asked me quite a bit about my past since we met, about where I grew up, about my family, my friends and my trips to Hong Kong. Actually, I haven't been able to get you to shut up.” Was everyone out to take a shot at me tonight? “Well, my grandmother is coming to visit in a few weeks before my brother and I go back overseas with her, and I want you two to meet. If things go like I think they will, and if you behave like I know you'd better, then I want you to go with me in a year, maybe."
"I don't know what to say.” I was dumbfounded.
"I do,” Kim piped up. “If Andy pisses you off in any way, I'll go! I've been out of the country before, and men always get down on their knees when they see me."
"Quit knocking them down trying to get to the buffet,” Ryan mumbled loud enough for her to hear. Finally! Somebody else was “it” tonight.
"At least my dates aren't inflatable,” Kim shot back.
"No,” he agreed, “your dates just like other boys."
"Bitch, I know where you park!"
I ignored them and kept staring at Alan and realizing just how much he never stopped taking me by surprise. On one hand, he was a stubborn, sarcastic smartass, and on the other, he was angelic and ... mine.
"Anyway,” Ryan continued, “not that anyone here has bothered to ask me, but I've signed up to be a camp counselor for the summer. I figure it'll give me some extra motivation to finish my story."
"Just watch out for chiggers,” Kim offered. “It's easy to mistake them for whoever you're on top of at first because it's dark and their little bites feel quite good, but you'll be paying for them later on and..."
We stared at her.
"Not that I'd know from past experience or anything, especially since I was never on the bottom like Andy.” Bitch. “I, on the other hand, am going to spend my summer as far away from everyone here as I can so I can reclaim my sexual essence."
"You're going to give tours to the incoming male freshmen at the University of Illinois again?” Ryan couldn't believe his ears. “I thought part of the deal the judge agreed to prohibited you from doing that for another three years?"
"Two and a half.” Kim corrected him sharply. “The lawyers were very specific about that.” She lightened back up. “No, this is something totally different. The university is sponsoring a program for ten students to monitor pollution in one of the Great Lakes. It requires them to stay out on a boat for almost two months solid, and I've already been accepted."
"I read something about that in the campus newspaper.” Alan was puzzled. “It was just a bunch of guys from several of the fraternities doing it to show that their organizations care about the environment. How did you pull that one off?"
"It was the most amazing thing.” What had she done now? “I was filling out the application, and the pen slipped. Instead of my name reading ‘Kimberly Sasha Myers’ it looked more like ‘Matthew Sandler Myers,’ an easy mistake to make. Besides, those hard strong bodies are going to need some looking after. They'll do their part in keeping up the environment, and I'll do mine keeping up their—"
"So, Andy,” Ryan cut her off, “what are you doing for the summer?"
"I don't know.” Truth be told, I never really did. “I'll probably get my job back at the same place I've been working at since high school, do some writing when I'm not harassing Mabel or watching a horror movie with her, walk the dog ... and see if Grandma wants to take another trip."
"Like hell!” Alan objected. “I know what happened the last time you took a trip with her, and I'll be damned if I'm going to come back from Hong Kong only to hear about you and some other wild cousin of yours!"
"Cousin by marriage only!” Either they were going to get tired of saying it, or I was going to get tired of correcting them.
"Hmm.” Kim chuckled. “This reminds me of something my cousin once told me he could do and..."
"Can I trade her story for what's behind door number two?” Ryan asked in all sincerity.
"Why is shit always coming out of yo’ mouth instead of yo’ ass?” She looked irritated that he'd jostled her out of a pleasant memory.
"Sarcasm is just one of the many services I offer.” He grinned.
"No, it's the only service you offer, which is why all your ex-girlfriends went looking for the other white meat. You know? The real white meat.” Kim was just not about to let him get the last word in.
"At least mine can escape the gravitational pull of my ass."
"You..."
Hell, I'd have lunged, but somehow she managed to keep her cool.
"Please, my virgin ears,” she told him through gritted teeth.
"Please, there isn't a hole on your body that hasn't been plugged on a Friday or Saturday night."
"Oh, hell, no, you did not just say that to me, you fucking little yodeling leprechaun!"
Much to everybody's shock and amusement, she reached up, grabbed his head and put him in a headlock.
