A series of stories about the pleasures of youth and the fun had during those glory yearsβ¦.
Story One β Elegantly Wasted
Toby had been one of the first guys I met when my family moved to Colorado. We had both gone out for and joined the football team my first year of school. He'd been just like one of the other guys.
I think it's safe to say that I liked him immediately. And our friendship had started from the first day of football practice.
But now Toby was different.
It had started with little things.
But even though Toby had become one of those guys who is mostly a loner, and who quickly gets pushed to the social fringes because of his eccentricities, we remained close friends throughout school, much to the surprise of everyone else.
The guys called him a stoner.
He stood out from the day to day surroundings of the backcountry. A person who looked like he would be a better fit in New York or Los Angeles. He dyed his blond hair blue.
Then there were the other whispers. You see the hair was only part of it. Toby didn't act like his fellow teammates. He smoked cigarettes like a chimneystack. He skipped out on classes to smoke pot. His regular friends weren't the other jocks on the team. He ran with the leather jacket wearing, dangerous looking crowd most people would ordinarily call bad elements. The girls he was seen with frequently were the kind that most people in polite society would call trash, along with the staple Goth chicks in leather.
The guys called him a fag.
But never to his face. Toby did not overtly act gay. Not that he acted like a straight jock either. He had his own signature style. He was a great football player, and that would have saved his rep with most of the guys anyway. But, frankly, some of the guys were nervous around him, because of the whispers. Even though everyone had seen him macking on girls at the football parties he did go to. Most girls I knew found him alluring. He was certainly handsome. And he was rugged and built from hours spent in the gym.
Toby was a heartbreaker.
It was like he lived some kind of weird, schizophrenic double lifestyle. Sometimes I wished that I had the courage to act so carefree. In reality, I knew that Toby and I might be friends, but I was far too constrained by my own social circle to live with such outward abandon.
I lived the life of the typical jock.
The Proposition
All this was running through my mind as I watched Toby walk up the other side of the street with a Latino girl on his arm. She was a rough looking character, and she was snapping her bubble gum and wearing his leather jacket. Toby rarely wore the letterman's jacket he got because of his position on the varsity squad. His outfit today consisted of a ripped up sleeveless shirt and leather pants. It never surprised me the kind of shit I would see him dressed in. As it had no sleeves, I noticed that he'd gotten a new tattoo of a dragon curled around his left bicep.
It looked pretty cool.
I was coming out of a store with some supplies that I'd picked up when Toby noticed me looking in his direction. He gave me a friendly little wave, and patted his girl on the ass, sending her into coffee shop with an open mouthed French kiss in front of God and everybody. Once he'd sent her inside he jogged over to where I was standing by my bike.
"Marc, my man," he asked, all shit-eating grin, "How's it goin?"
"Not too bad," I said, giving his proffered hand a manly shake, "Who's the girl?"
"Just some bitch I met," he said, dismissively, "She puts out, man, that's all I care about."
"Yeah, well," I said grinning at him, "What more do you want?"
"That's just my point," he said, guardedly, "I need to ask a favor, dude, and I knew you were the man to talk to."
"Oh?" I inquired, "What can I do for you?"
"I met this girl over in Fort Collins."
He paused then. It seemed like he wanted to say more, but he looked oddly shy for a second, and then looked away up the street.
"Tell me more, man," I said, encouragingly, "Don't leave me in suspense."
"Well," he said, slowly collecting his wits, "She's looking for a guy for her friend."
"Dude," I asked him, "Are we talking doubles here? As in date?"
"Something like that," he said nodding, and then leaning towards me conspiratorially he put his hand on my shoulder and said, "These bitches only come in pairs. Can't have one without the other and all that bullshit. Man, they want to try a foursome and I thought maybe you'd be the man to help us out."
"At the same time?" I asked lasciviously, "Don't worry, man. I've got your back. That's awesome."