When Charlie awoke that sunny day, he was feeling pretty good. He had no idea life was about to throw him the biggest curve ball anyone could imagine. The following is my first attempt at a multi-part story, and I hope that if you get through it or the following two parts, you will consider leaving me some feedback letting me know what you think. All comments are much appreciated.
Thanks, the author
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The alarm went off at its usual hour—7 a.m.—but for once I shut it off, rolled over and went back to sleep. This being the first day of spring break—my very first college spring break—I'd be damned if I was going to get up early. And even when I did finally crawl out of bed at a little past nine, I was in no hurry to get the day started; so instead of getting dressed I brewed a cup of coffee on my roommate's nifty little coffeemaker and parked myself in front the tube where I sat idly watching Jerry Springer's morning freak show. By this time I normally would have been into my second class of the day, busily scribbling notes as the prof droned on about World Lit, and trying hard to keep my focus on Shakespeare and Dante rather than the hot guys seated on either side of me in the classroom. Of course that was just on Mondays, Wednesday and Fridays. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, I would be at the university library contemplating pulling my hair out as I surveyed the endless stacks of books I had to shelve as part of my part-time work study job.
But not today. Today, I didn't have a worry in the world, and the only thing on my mind was wondering why the blue collar joes on Jerry's show—some of whom weren't half-bad looking—would ever want the hoary-looking skanks screeching and clawing over them. But if my day was starting off perfectly, the same could not be said for my dormmate Sean. While I was sleeping late, he had already gotten up, straightened up his bed, and hurried off for early morning conferences with a couple of his professors. Sean was in danger of failing several classes, and in a desperate attempt to head off academic probation, he had gone to throw himself on the mercy of his profs and beg for extra credit work over spring break. I'd seen this coming from day one. Sean's story was an old one. Raised by strict parents who'd kept him on a tight leash all the way through high school, he had basically gone wild with partying at his first taste of freedom, his freshman year of college. It was a classic trap.
Of course it was my freshman year too, here at good old Texas A&M, and I certainly wasn't allergic to going out and having a good time. The difference between me and Sean was that I knew how to pace myself. My dad who'd raised me alone never tried imposing a bunch of stupid rules on me growing up—which may seem a little strange considering he was a tough, by-the-book street cop. Dad put it this way: He worked a job that required him to slap rules on people all day, and he did not want to come home in the evenings and start doing the same to me. He said it was just a hell of a lot simpler and easier to trust me, which he did . . . that is, until I gave him reason not to. Now that's not to say I didn't push the limits of my dad's patience from time to time, like the time I tried cutting some classes in my senior year to sneak off and see an older boy I liked. Dad didn't scream or shout when he found out. He didn't even demand to know exactly where I had gone or what I'd been up to. He just confiscated my credit card for a whole month, which was my primary source of knocking around money, and I got religion real quick and gave him my solemn vow nothing like that would ever happen again. As for my general coming and going in high school, Dad made no rules about that either, not even setting a curfew. But he did say I needed to answer my phone whenever he called, and I'd better not be caught doing anything illegal. And I never did get caught doing anything illegal, which is not to say I didn't try a few things beyond the strict definitions of the law, from time to time.
The sounds of kids milling about in the hall and leaving the dorm snapped me out of my reverie and made me aware how late it was getting to be. Damn, it was closing in on ten and I hadn't done a single thing to get ready to leave myself. At the rate people we deserting the campus, the whole place would be a ghost town by afternoon. Even Sean had found time to pack a bag and leave it on his bed before lighting out for the academic buildings. I really needed to get a move on, especially if I still hoped to hit the highway to Houston by noon. Nothing would please me more than seeing boring old College Station in my rearview mirror.
I stripped off my underwear and grabbed a towel on the way to the bathroom. I was just about to step into the shower when I heard a knock at the door. It was Sean's boyfriend Jack.
"Sorry, he's not here," I said letting him in. It was impossible not to notice how Jack's eyes trailed down to the towel I had wrapped about my waist. This wasn't the first time I'd caught the guy checking me out.
"I know," Jack said, flashing that sexy-shy, boy-next-door smile of his. "He texted me, said the meetings with the profs was gonna take longer than expected. Seems he ran into a line at both buildings with kids trying to do the same as him, get some extra credit work to get their grades up."
"Doesn't surprise me," I added.
"Anyway, he said for me to wait for him here. We'll take off for South Padre as soon as he gets back."
"Fine by me," I said. "But, look, I'm running late and I've really got to hit the shower."
As I turned back toward the bathroom, I thought I caught a glimpse of something a little extra in Jack's face. What was it: Curiosity? Interest? Lust? Hell, now I was curious. I wondered what he would do if I "accidentally" left the door to the bathroom ajar while I showered. Minutes later I got my answer. Just as I was sticking my head under the water, the dude started talking to me. It was obvious he was standing inside the bathroom door.
"So, Charlie," he called out, yelling over the sound of running water. "Sean says you're not going anywhere for spring break. That true?"
"I'm going home, if that's what you mean."
"Yeah, that's what Sean said. So, listen, dude, instead of doing that, why not catch a ride down to the coast with Sean and me and crash free of charge? We've rented this condo just off the beach for the whole week. And I'm telling you, dude, the place is fucking huge, more than enough room for a third. And it's South Padre, man. There's gonna be parties and stuff going on all week. What do ya say?"
I wanted to say, So what are you really up to, dude? I mean, here I barely knew the guy—in fact, I only really knew him through Sean—and yet here he was standing a few feet from me in the shower inviting me to take a road trip with him and his boyfriend. Talk about bizarre. The three of us had hung out a few times here in the dorm, and once or twice I had tagged along with them when they went out to eat. But right now, this situation felt pretty provocative.
"Um, thanks, Jack, but I think I'll pass. I'm meeting up with some of my friends in Houston."
He made no further entreaties, but I had the definite impression he lingered in that doorway for a while watching the outline of my naked form moving around inside the spray of water. He wasn't there when I stepped out of the shower, but the door was still ajar. As I stood there wringing water out of my hair, I had to wonder if Sean knew his cute boyfriend had a roving eye. Probably, I chuckled to myself. Sean wasn't always the sharpest tack in the tacklebox, but even he had to know a guy with Jack's looks had probably done his share of playing around.
I slipped on a pair of underwear and exited the bathroom. Jack had retreated to a chair at Sean's desk in the far corner of the room. He was idly staring at the TV but his eyes surreptitiously followed me as I moved across the room to the large clothes closet that Sean and I shared. I was really starting to get off on this little game of cat-and-mouse that Jack and I were playing, though it was becoming less clear which of us was the cat and which the mouse. Up until this moment I had not given any serious consideration to the thought of hooking up with Jack—not because he wasn't cute enough (I'd have to have been blind not to have checked him out once or twice)—but the thing is, college dorms are literally chock full of good-looking guys. Why mess with Seans'? Besides, up till now they had seemed pretty much joined at the hip. For the first time, I realized that they weren't.
I was in no particular rush to get dressed. After pulling on a T-shirt, I began spreading my bed, giving Jack a generous view of my body as I moved around the bed, stretching and pulling the sheet into place. While he subtly watched me, I returned the favor, studying his features and form. Jack was long, lean and clean-cut, the sort of wholesome, good-looking, boy-next-door type of guy that was not uncommon on the grounds of Texas A&M. In large part, that's because the school draws heavily from the farms and small towns of the state, where men are men, and boys are raised to stand tall and strong and straight. Of course Jack was hardly straight, but you'd never have guessed that by looking at him. From his close-cropped, neatly-trimmed hair, to the dressed down shirt and jeans he usually wore, he was virtually indistinguishable from the hordes of all-American straight arrows that swarmed the campus. Unless I missed my guess, not even his parents probably knew he was anything other than what he appeared, just your nice, average, straight-shooting Texas boy.
"Can I ask you a question?" I said, turning to him just as I finished making the bed. "You played sports in high school. What was it: football?"
"Yeah," he said, again flashing that sexy half-smile. "Does it show?"
"You're certainly in great shape. The reason I ask is that most gays I know didn't play varsity sports in school. In fact, I didn't know any."
"Yeah, see, that's a myth. I know plenty of 'em playin' sports. But it is true, I guess: most keep quiet about the gay stuff. That kinda thing ain't likely to go down too well back where I come from."
"West Texas—right?" I asked.
"Yep. The boonies. Lots of stuff still ain't cool out there, but I managed to have my share of fun growin' up. You just gotta know how to find it."
"Oh, come on, Jack. You're tall, good-looking, and a jock to boot. I'm betting you've never had to look very far in you life to find a good time."
And then the ultimate happened. Jack grinned and, yes, blushed—
blushed!
I couldn't remember the last time I'd seen anybody blush. And with my brown complexion, I was pretty sure I'd never blushed in my life.
