Flux - 7. Chapter 7

June 12, 2002

Escorial, CA

I was heading back to my room, stumbling a little bit, since I’d had so much to drink. Wade had already bailed on us, so I was planning to check in with him. I felt someone slide in under my arm to prop me up. “Thanks for that,” Will said.

“It will be fun to spend time with you guys,” I said. “Just don’t go somewhere shitty.”

“That’s Zach’s call,” he said. We got to my door and stopped to open it. “You really bailed me out. I spend most of my time with Zach hanging out with Frank and Grandmaman, and since Zach is with them, it’s like they’re his parents. I forgot all about Wally and Clara.”

“Yeah, but Frank was right, and they would have been pissed off,” I said.

“I know,” he agreed. “I just wanted you to know that I appreciate you doing that. I’m looking forward to hanging out with you.”

“So am I,” I said. I gave him a hug, and then went into my room.

“Hey,” Wade said. He was sitting on my bed. “I figured I’d wait for you here.”

“That works,” I said, smiling at him.

“I thought about what you said.” I just looked at him, waiting for him to go on. “I think that you’re right about me not keeping an open mind.”

“What does that mean?” I probably wouldn’t have followed his reasoning even if I were sober.

“It means that I flat out ruled out being with you as a possibility,” he said. “I’m still not seeing it,” he added hastily, as if trying to help me not get my hopes up. “But it seems only fair to keep an open mind about it.”

“You know, you act like you’re so excited to be going off to Harvard so you can meet someone better than me,” I said, much too bitterly. “That’s a huge fucking slap in the face.”

He got a worried look on his face, and I tried not to let that be too endearing. Wade was so stoic, and so in control, but he really only let his guard down around me. Well, and with JP. “It’s not like that at all.”

“So what is it like?” I asked, remembering not to sound bitchy.

“You’ve got two years in Chicago, and I’ve got three at Harvard,” he said.

“You said it may be five years before,” I said. “What was that about?”

“They have a program where I can get my JD degree and a PhD at the same time,” he said.

“What would you need a PhD for?”

“If I wanted to do research, or teach at a university, I’d need a PhD,” he said.

“Do you want to do those things?” This whole line of discussion made me realize how out of touch I was with him, and his dreams. That time we’d been apart was when he’d spent time thinking about this.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “I think this first year will help me figure out more of what I want to do.”

“I think you’d be a good teacher, but kind of a hard-ass,” I teased.

He smiled. “You’d give all the hot guys an ‘A’.”

“They’d have to work hard for it,” I said, sounding slutty. “So fucking hard.” We laughed together.

“I’m not looking for someone better,” he said, bringing us back to our topic. Then he sighed. “I’m not sure what I’m looking for.”

“You just know it isn’t me,” I said sadly.

“No, dumbass,” he said. “That’s what I was trying to tell you. I’m not even sure about that.”

“It’s not like you to not know what you want,” I said, and almost laughed at how irritated that made him. “Guess that means you’re pretty confused.”

“No shit,” he said.

“You want us to be friends, with benefits,” I said, raising my eyebrows.

“I like the benefits,” he said, flirting with me and cracking me up.

“So do I,” I said with a leer. “So you want that, but you don’t want more than that.”

“Is that so hard to understand?” he asked. “Do you really want to be in Chicago for two years, stuck in a relationship with someone who’s in freaking Boston?”

That was a window into how he thought I viewed him, and us. In the past, the thought of me being with just him, being exclusive, had been pretty confining. I’d foolishly fought against that for most of our junior and senior years. He thought I was still that guy. “Yes.”

He blinked. “You mean you’d give up other men and women, and be monogamous? Even if that meant that, because of our schedules, we could only see each other once a month?”

“Yes,” I said. “Are you saying you can’t do that?” I threw that out as a challenge, because that usually worked with Wade, but this time it didn’t.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly.

“You know, you made it sound like I was the immature asshole who wouldn’t grow up and stand by your side,” I said, much too bitterly. “I’m telling you I can do that, and now you’re telling me that you can’t.”

“Can you?” he asked, challenging whether I could honor my promise. I stared at him, so pissed off I couldn’t speak. “I’m sorry. Be patient with me, OK?” I nodded.

“I can,” I said. “But I can’t do that if you don’t.” No way was I putting up with a double standard.

“I need to spend some time figuring things out,” he said. He saw me starting to talk, but he stopped me. “Let me talk.”

“OK,” I said, grinning.

“I’ve spent the last six months trying to cope with us being over, with you not being in my life.” I made to interrupt him, but he stopped me, just with his firm expression. “That wasn’t easy, it hasn’t been easy, but I made a lot of progress with it.”

“You’re trying to say you got over me,” I said, trying not to sound too sad.

“I’m saying that I was starting to,” he said. “Then you come blasting back into my life, and you want us to go back to being partners. Can you see how this is kind of fucking me up?”

This was the rollercoaster ride he was talking about: the upheaval of his emotions. “I can see that,” I agreed, getting how much I must have rocked his world.

“I need to go to Boston, and I need to be a single dude,” he said.

“That’s what you’ve been saying,” I grumbled.

“That’s part of what I’ve been saying, and I still feel that way,” he said. “I’ve also been saying that you and I were through, and that I didn’t see any hope for us in the future.”

“I got that. I heard you,” I said glumly.

He sighed in frustration “What’s changed is that I’m not ruling us out.” I sat there on the bed, trying to be happy, but I wasn’t. “Isn’t that what you wanted?”

He’d been really candid with me, so I was candid with him. “Dude, it’s what I want, but it’s also a pride thing. I feel like I’m groveling, begging you to be with me, and you’re tossing me a few crumbs.”

I expected a total explosion from him over that, probably one that led to him storming out of my room. Instead, he leaned in and kissed me gently. “I’m sorry. I can see where it would seem that way to you.”

“You know what really scares me,” I said. He looked at me, waiting for me to go on. “What if you find that guy of your dreams, the one who is way more together than me, and does all those things that you want, and is almost as good of a lay as I am?” He chuckled at that last sentence.

“If I do, then it wouldn’t have worked for us anyway,” he said, but I didn’t buy that. “You’re selling yourself short. I probably run a bigger risk of that happening with you, with you finding someone else.”

“I know,” I joked. “I can’t believe you’re being this stupid.”

He laughed, and then got serious. “This is about me, and you, getting our shit together as adults before we try to be partners again. And the risk is that we fall in love with someone else along the way. But it’s a journey we have to take.”

“Journey?” I challenged. “You got stoned,” I accused.

“Maybe,” he said, giggling, “but it’s still true.”

“You were trying to cut things off, so if that happens, it doesn’t hurt so badly, and there aren’t any big expectations,” I said.

“No, actually I had convinced myself that we were destined to not be together,” he said. “I’d pretty much written you off, and it was only my feelings for you that were left over.”

“And now you can see hope that we could be together,” I concluded. He nodded. “What changed your mind?”

“You,” he said. “Spending these past few days with you, remembering how much I love you, and how good we can be together. And I listened to you, and thought about us, and all the things we’ve gone through together.”

“Shit, most of the people here don’t have to put up with that kind of trauma,” I said, referring to the typical Stanford student.

“With all that you’ve done for me, you’ve earned a place in my life,” he said. “Whether that’s as my partner, or as a good friend, you still have that place.” He was trying to be sincere, but once again, I felt like he was talking down to me, deigning to grant me a place at his side. I didn’t say anything, though, because that would have just been petty.

“And you’ve earned a place in mine,” I said, and almost laughed when he seemed to have a similar reaction. “So all this time, you kept bitching at me about how things are going to change when we graduate, and it’s still the same thing.”

“How so?”

“We’re still together, more or less, and we can still be with other people, more or less,” I said.

“Only now we can actually have a relationship with someone else, not just a fuck,” he corrected. He knew I wouldn’t like that, and he was right, but there wasn’t much I could do about it at this point. Besides, I understood why he made that point. I tended to anchor myself emotionally on Wade, and then satisfy my libido and wanderlust with encounters. There wasn’t anything really lasting in my hookups. Wade didn’t work that way; he generally liked to have a relationship before he had sex.

“I guess that’s different,” I agreed.

“I want you to look at this with me,” he said, changing the subject. He pulled out a folder, and it had a bunch of houses in it. “These are the places I’m looking at in Boston.” The symbolism was incredible, because he was actually pulling me into the process, and making me part of this move.

“Which one do you like best?”

“Up until recently, I liked this one,” he said, showing me this urban townhome. “It’s in Back Bay, so not far from campus, and the neighborhood is pretty fun.”

“What happened recently?”

“This one came on the market,” he said. He handed me a brochure, and the place was pretty stunning.

“This is like an estate, like Escorial,” I commented.

“It’s not that big, but it’s big. It’s in Brookline, so a little farther out,” he said. He pointed at an item in the brochure, something I missed. “That’s the kicker.”

“It’s got an ice rink? Holy shit! That’s the bomb!”

“Tiffany and JJ are flying out with me to check it out on the 17^th, and then I’m going back to Goodwell for the summer, or some of it,” he said. “I don’t know if you can convince Will to make the detour, but you’re welcome to join us.”

“I think I can do that,” I said. “One condition.”

“What?”

“You block out some time to go apartment shopping with me in Chicago this summer,” I said.

“Deal,” he said. His eyes bore into mine, as if he were trying to crawl into my brain. “Make love to me.”

“Gladly,” I said, and then I did what I said I’d do.

June 13, 2002

Palo Alto, CA

I normally wasn’t all that excited about going to see my psychologist, but today was different. I was still grappling with how things were with Wade, and I was hoping he could give me some insight. I was hoping he could do that without saying ‘I told you so’, but he could be kind of bitchy at times, so that was entirely possible. “Dr. Bridgeport will be right with you,” the receptionist said.

“Thanks,” I said, hitting her with my mega-smile, then took a seat. I’d switched shrinks from David Sizemore to Casey Bridgeport, and that had probably saved my life. It’s not that David wasn’t good; he’d done wonders with Wade, Robbie, and Gathan. But since he was Wade’s doctor too, I’d had this fear that somehow he wasn’t really my doctor, and as things got worse with Wade, I’d wondered if he was giving me advice based on my needs, as opposed to what was best for Wade. In retrospect, he probably hadn’t been, but I was pretty fucked up then, so being paranoid wasn’t all that unusual. Instead, I’d started seeing Casey Bridgeport, the same guy who had helped out Tony and JJ.

Casey walked out and smiled at me, I raised my eyebrows, and he rolled his eyes. I liked to flirt with him and see if I could bug him. It usually didn’t work. “Come on back,” he said, as if dealing with me was the worst thing he could possibly do today.

We walked into his office and he shut the door behind us. “Alone at last,” I said in my sultry voice.

“Alone is a relative term,” he noted, as he sat in one of his chairs.

“You don’t want to sit on the couch with me?”

“I like my personal space,” he said.

“That’s the story of my life. Guys who need their space,” I groused.

“Alright, I’ll bite. What’s that about?”

“I’ll bet you’d like it better if I was the one doing the biting,” I said. I saw him swallow a bit, and grinned, knowing that I’d finally gotten to him. “So you like that, eh?”

“How about if we focus on your mental needs, not your libido,” he said, pretending to be frustrated with me.

“I moved back to Escorial, made up with Will, and I’ve been fucking Wade,” I said.

“You’ve been a busy boy,” he said. I chomped my teeth in a biting fashion, getting a knowing shake of the head from him, and then playtime was over.

I told him about the whole drama, from the A-Ho party, to our talk just last night. “I’m not sure what to think,” I concluded.

“Do you have any reason to think that Wade is not being candid with you?” he asked.

“No,” I said.

“Is it his style, his manner, to beat around the bush and lead you on?”

“No, Wade doesn’t do that. He’ll avoid unpleasant conversations, so that’s his game if he’s uncomfortable. But when it comes down to it, he’s pretty upfront.”

“Then why aren’t you taking his words at face value?” he asked me pointedly. He gave me time to think about that.

“Because I don’t want to,” I finally answered. I gave him a dirty look. “This is where you tell me I’m the problem, not Wade.”

“I didn’t say that,” he said, and by saying that, he was saying that. My mind reeled in temporary confusion, so I did what I normally do to clear it up: I hit on him. “I think you’re just saying that so you can have me all to yourself.”

“That’s why I don’t sleep with patients,” he said.

“I need a new shrink, and then we can go out,” I replied.

“We’ll add delusional to your list of maladies,” he said. He smiled at me; he understood me so well, and he flirted with me to let me get my mind back on an even keel. “Matt, for a long time now, you’ve been struggling to get personal space, distance, to go off on your own and lick your wounds. That’s a lot of what we’ve been dealing with.”

“Yeah. So?”

“It sounds to me like Wade is trying to do the same thing,” he said. “He admitted that he loves you, but he is afraid of a relationship with you. How is that different than where you were just a few months ago?”

I looked at him and blinked. “I guess it isn’t.”

“He wants some distance to rebuild his life. He doesn’t see you involved in that rebuilding process. That’s probably why he excluded you from going to Boston at first, and why he’s been so adamant about you not being a couple.”

“Doesn’t that mean we’re over?”

He shrugged. “It could.”

“So what do I do? And don’t give me one of those fucked up answers like ‘what do you think you should do?’” I said, mimicking him.

“Let him go to Boston alone. Be his friend. And do not create drama.”

“Drama? You think I create drama?”

“It doesn’t matter what I think, and it doesn’t matter what you think, what matters is that is probably Wade’s perception. He told you that he didn’t want a relationship with someone that was like a roller coaster. If you want to drive him away, that’s what you’ll give him.”

“I don’t try to create drama,” I said, more or less admitting that I had.

“He was very clear about why he didn’t want a relationship with you. He looked at Brad and Robbie, and their ups and downs, and saw you acting like Robbie did. He didn’t want to live that life. It doesn’t sound like he ended things with you because he didn’t love you; it sounds like he did this because he felt that he had to, for his own survival.”

“He had to cut me off to save himself?”

“That sounds like what he said to you,” Casey noted. “You keep asking him what you have to do to be together, and that just creates more drama and more stress for him. He told you what you have to do.”

“What?” I asked, because I’m an idiot.

“You have to build your own life separate from him. You have to be stable and secure in yourself, and you have to be calm and supportive with him.”

“So I have to find someone to settle down with and be monogamous with that guy? That’s how I get Wade back?” I wasn’t following him, and I could see how frustrating that was.

“I’m not Wade, so I can’t answer that with certainty, but he didn’t say anything to you about settling down and building a family with someone else, did he?” I shook my head. “Do you know any men who are single, but confident, assured, and attractive?”

“Oh yeah,” I said. I thought of Cody. Lou and Marcel both fit that mold too, more or less.

“That’s how you have to be. It’s almost a Catch 22, where if you don’t need him, then he wants you.”

I nodded. “Yeah, I already resolved not to be a pathetic piece of shit anymore.”

“Hopefully you can pull that off,” he said playfully, then got serious. “I think that you use your cocky attitude to hide some basic insecurities. Come with me.”

I got up and followed him over to the mirror. “We make a cute couple,” I said.

He pointed at me. “You’re a very handsome man. You’re very bright. You’re very wealthy. Is there some reason you shouldn’t be confident?”

“My psychologist keeps shooting me down when I hit on him,” I joked. He laughed, and we went back to our seats.

“That’s because he’s a professional,” Casey said.

“Just my luck,” I grumbled. We sat there while I digested what he said. “I guess I just have to hope that this works.”

“Matt, these changes that you have to make, they will work, whether you end up with Wade or not,” he said. I looked at him blankly. “If you can regain your confidence, and you can feel secure and happy by yourself, then even if Wade still rejects you, you’ll be in a much better place.”

“I’m going home shopping with Wade, Tiffany, and JJ,” I said. “You think that’s a good idea?”

“I do,” he said. “Because Wade invited you. Just don’t go claiming one of the bedrooms as your own.”

“Got it,” I said.

“I think it may not be a bad idea to let Wade set the pace, the tenor, of your relationship.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that you may want to let him decide when to call you, as opposed to you calling him. You may want to let him invite you to visit, instead of inviting yourself.”

I nodded. “And no drama.”

“No drama,” he concurred.

“So how will I see you if I’m in Chicago?”

“Well, you can see a different doctor. I can give you a referral,” he said. “We can also schedule phone appointments, or we can meet when you come out here to visit. I can work with your schedule.”

“If I see another doctor in Chicago, will you sleep with me?” I flirted.

“No,” he said firmly.

“Oh. Well then I might as well keep working with you,” I said with a smile. “Thanks.”

“It’s not altruistic. I’m billing you.”

“So that’s all I am to you? An accounts receivable?” I challenged.

He frowned. “Have a good summer.”

“I will,” I said, and gave him a very businesslike handshake on my way out.

June 14, 2002

Escorial, CA

“Thank you,” I said to Pedro as he dropped me off. I was surprised he wasn’t shuttling Will around, but then again, Will didn’t really need Pedro for transportation when Zach was around. Besides, we were going to be inundated with visitors this evening, which was one of the reasons I’d flown back from Connecticut so early. I wanted some time to settle back into my room.

I walked by the Great Hall and saw that it was still walled off, but some nice drapes had been installed to cover up the plastic sheeting. It actually looked rather elegant; no one would guess they were standing in front of a construction zone, and now that most of the sanding had been done, the noise from power tools was minimal.

“I heard you were coming back today,” I heard Ben say. I turned to see him walking up behind me as I looked at the drapes. I hadn’t seen him since our date in San Francisco. I’d been out when Sean had brought him home, and then I’d flown out on Monday before he came in to work.

“Nice to know your information source is accurate,” I teased, since we both knew it had to be Will.

“I try to stay informed,” he said, giving me that lopsided grin.

“You did a nice job with this,” I said, gesturing at the drapes.

“Thanks. It was explained to me that with the house filling up, I needed to pack up and quit working for the weekend,” he said.

I laughed. “Good thing you worked in those extra days.”

“No shit,” he agreed, and then he got somewhat nervous. “Um, you got a minute to talk?”

“Sure,” I said.

“Give me about fifteen minutes to finish this up, then I’m done,” he said, but it was more of a request.

“That’s fine,” I said. “You know where my room is?”

“I do,” he said. I was surprised at that, since I hadn’t known he’d ever been in the other parts of the house.

“I’ll see you there,” I said. I walked down toward my room and was surprised that I made it there without anyone else stopping me. I walked in and went into the bathroom, pausing to brush my teeth and make sure my hair didn’t look like shit. I studied it carefully, and was relieved to see that I wasn’t losing any, or at least not enough to be noticeable. The fear of baldness reminded me of Robbie, and how upset he had gotten when he’d started to bald. That was actually a fear I could relate to.

I walked into the bedroom and was surprised to see a tall object, covered with a cloth. I looked at it curiously, and was about to inspect it, when there was a knock on my door. “Enter!” I said.

Ben came in, smiling at me nervously. He gestured toward the tall object. “I made you something.”

“Already?” I asked. “You work fast.”

“Not all the time,” he said, flirting with me. “You can look at it.”

I pulled the cloth off of it, and paused to study it. It was a sculpture of sorts, standing about five feet tall, carved to curve upward in a rotational pattern. The pattern highlighted the grain of the wood, a grain that was subtle. I touched it gently, my hands running across the smooth surface. It was obvious from the texture and coloring that this was redwood, which appealed mightily to the Californian in me. “It’s beautiful,” I pronounced.

“Thanks,” he said. “Normally I build stuff, like furniture, but I ran across this beautiful piece of wood, and decided to try my hand at sculpting.”

“I love the curves,” I said, as I touched it. It was impossible to keep my hands off of it. “What is it supposed to be?”

“It’s supposed to be a person, rising up, overcoming adversity,” he said. And I could see it, even though there were no eyes or appendages, it was a highly morphed human that seemed to be swirling up from nothing.

“That’s incredible!” I said. “Did you just do that this past week?”

“No, I’ve been working on it for a while, but after we spent that time in the City, I decided to finish it up for you.”

“All I did was buy you a suit and some shoes,” I said. “This is a work of art!”

“Thanks,” he said shyly. “I’m glad you like it.”

“I do,” I said. “Only now I’m indebted to you.”

“No,” he insisted, and then swallowed hard. “I’m sorry about our trip to the City.”

“What are you sorry for? I had a nice time,” I said.

“As soon as I met Sean, I pretty much blew you off,” he said.

I eyed him carefully, and I could feel my brows narrowing. “You talked to Will about this?”

That freaked him out. He wanted to tell me he didn’t, but I had him, and he knew it. “I wasn’t supposed to say anything.”

“What did he tell you?” I demanded, furious that Will would presume to interfere in my love life, pathetic as it was.

“He just said that you joked about Sean stealing your date,” he said. “I feel really bad about that.”

I put my annoyance at Will aside. “Don’t. Don’t feel bad.”

“You weren’t disappointed that we didn’t get to spend the night together?” he asked, flirting.

“You probably snore,” I joked. He chuckled. “Look, the chemistry between you two was pretty strong. That doesn’t happen everyday. I wanted to back off and give you a chance to see if it was real.”

“Well, that was really nice of you, but pretty shitty of me, to just ignore you after the nice day you planned out for us,” he said.

“So did things work out?” I asked. He shuffled his feet, which reminded me that we were standing there in front of the statue. “Here, have a seat.” I gestured at the chairs in my room.

“We had a nice time. I like him,” Ben said, but he wasn’t real enthusiastic.

“That’s a little different than the reaction you seemed to have at the restaurant,” I said, probing a bit.

“We’re not entirely compatible,” he said.

“You didn’t get along?” I asked.

“No, not like that,” he said. I just stared at him. “I’m a bottom. A total bottom. Not versatile. I’m a bottom.”

“And so is Sean?” I thought he was, but I wasn’t sure.

“He’s versatile, but he prefers bottoming too.”

“Is that a deal buster for a relationship?” I asked. I was flexible enough to work with things either way, even though personally I liked topping much better.

“If I say yes, it makes me sound pretty shallow,” he grumbled.

“I’m not judging you,” I said, and I wasn’t. “I’m just curious.”

“It’s kind of how I work,” he said. “I have friends, guys I connect with up here.” He pointed at his head. “And I have friends with benefits, where we can play around.”

“But for someone to really be involved with you romantically, they have to fuck you?”

“See, that does sound shallow,” he said.

“No, it sounds like you know what you want. And a guy as handsome as you doesn’t have to settle. When you get old and ugly, that may change.”

He laughed. “It’s been a pretty big problem for me.”

“Why?”

“Because I seem pretty butch. Guys assume I’m a top. A typical date for me is going out, maybe things get a little heated, and the next thing I know the dude is grabbing his ankles.” I laughed.

“I didn’t get that far. I wouldn’t know.”

“You mean if we’d have been making out, you’d have grabbed your ankles?” he asked.

“I might have, but I’d rather top,” I said.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Yeah,” I said.

“Prove it,” he challenged. That really shocked me. I wasn’t expecting that at all.

“Now?” I asked.

“Now,” he said. He stood up briefly then knelt in front of my chair, his body between my spread legs. He moved in slowly, his hand on my cheek, as if he was guiding our mouths together. Our lips met, and there was nothing. He wasn’t a very good kisser; he opened his mouth way too much for me, darting his tongue out at mine, making me feel like I was in an Eastern European porno.

I pushed him away and smiled ruefully. “I can’t do this.”

“Did I do something wrong?” he asked, worried.

I put my hand on his chest, and felt his heart beating beneath my palm. “It’s not you. It’s me. I’m not ready for this yet.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, and looked so guilty it was like he’d tried to rape me.

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” I said. “You didn’t do a damn thing wrong.”

“OK,” he said, but he didn’t believe me. That was frustrating, because it meant that I was going to have to open up to him.

“I’m actually really flattered that you wanted to be with me,” I said. He ignored my compliment, wanting me to get to the point. “I’m doing alright, dealing with Robbie’s death, but I don’t think I could handle being that intimate with another guy right now.”

“I understand,” he said. We both stood up, and he hugged me, and then gave me another one of his awful kisses. “If you change your mind, let me know.”

“Thanks,” I said. “I’ll do that.” I watched him walk out of my room, and then went out onto my patio, enjoying the fresh air. I could have been inside, plowing Ben’s ass, but it just didn’t feel right. I wondered if I’d become asexual, a total prude. I thought of Chris Mendoza, and smiled slightly. Not entirely a prude. I usually got together with him when I was in Connecticut. We’d make out, and blow each other, but that’s as far as I’d take it. Somehow, fucking him was just way more intimate than I was able to handle. I thought of Cody. He’d be up here this weekend for the graduation. He’d be tempting, but unless I was drunk, I didn’t see that happening either. There’d only been one guy I’d actually fucked in the last six months, but he was the exception, and he was exceptional.