Confounded: Part II - 56. Epilogue

EPILOGUE --==Kit’s POV==--

One year later, Westwood, LA.

I woke up alone. Beside me, the bed was empty. It was 6am. That didn’t seem right; it had been our first night in the new apartment. In our new living room. Our new kitchen. Our new bed, thoroughly christened during the night.

The sound of water running and soft humming came from the other side of the bedroom, where the door to the bathroom was slightly ajar. I grinned, stretching lazily.

Mhm, very thorough. A few muscles ached, reminding me of that last exertion at around 4am, with Tom sitting on top as I lay on my back in the center of the living room, riding me hard. No one interrupted us and we kept the curtains open; none could see us. He’d called it ‘one Last Hurrah, before we go into the grind’, the grind being; start our second year at uni. But to wake up alone, on my first morning here? Noooo, not my idea of beginning a new chapter in our lives.

This whole last year, we’d worked at BSL three days of the week, learning and earning and making plans, one of which had actually been an idea of Taylan’s; get the boys a place of their own, near the university.

Tom liked the idea right away. Me, I warmed to it, after seeing some folders of the places Tay had in mind. Those, combined with the fact that over the course of that whole year, there’d been plenty of instances of coitus interruptus, so to speak, with us going at it, only to be disturbed by Tay returning home unexpected or having to be very quiet because they were in the next room, sold me on that idea pretty quick. Well, Tom mentioning that we could do whatever we wanted in our own place, had the light bulb above my head switch on. I had some ideas I wanted to try but didn’t dare do, at home, because of the parents.

Dad, though? Nope. Didn’t like the idea of us moving out, one bit. He’d preferred us staying at the house while attending UCLA, having done so the first year, and it really wasn’t that big of a commute; maybe fifteen minutes? But Taylan convinced him of the idea and after some requirements that Dad insisted on having, found the perfect place, a relatively new apartment complex in Westwood.

The apartment wasn’t very big compared to the house, but it was a great find; two bedrooms with walkin closets, a living and a modern, open kitchen, perfect for two guys starting out in life and both Taylan and Aunt Dana made sure we were included in every decision. They overwhelmed us with things we had no idea were required when moving into a place for the first time, what we’d need. From furniture to towels and appliances, to cramming cabinets with plates, glasses, mugs, fill drawers with cutlery and cooking gear. It seemed like an endless list that had both me and Tom looking at each other and scratching our heads. Seriously, we’d need all that?

Of course we’d need all that but when you’re at home, it’s already right there, y’know? You don’t realize it all had to be bought for you to use. Duh. We started to come down from cloud nine and, once our feet firmly planted back on the ground again, began to pay attention to what the parents were doing for us. It was Tom who was getting a little worried then; how were we going to pay for all of this? We did work at BSL and got paid; overpaid probably (according to him), but even that would not pay for all this new stuff.

We’re lucky, I realize that now. Dad bought the apartment, and he didn’t want a dime for rent; he’d just mark it up and sell it once we were done with Uni. That was a huge relief, especially to Tom, who’d been making some calculations and came up so far short, it wasn’t even funny. It was then that I also got worried when one evening, he pulled me aside and showed me an excel-sheet named ‘White Picket Fence”. I chuckled at that, then had that laugh die on me when I saw what he’d come to. Yikes! Now I also got really worried.

Then more lightening of the load; tuition was paid for! Apparently, Uncle Roman and Aunt Dana had a college fund created for him when he was a kid. Another relief, and a learning curve for me, because when he was so worried about all of this, and got me worried in the process, I started to really look at how easy I’d had it all my life. And came to the conclusion that all those months ago, he’d been absolutely right; I did have a comfortable life up to now, never had to really pay for anything. Well, I did pay for stuff but, compared to most, I’d paid only a small token of what I’d have had to pay, had I grown up differently, in less lucky circumstances.

I suggested a payment plan for the furniture and all that stuff (spent a few hours creating an excel sheet for that), including creating a joint account to pay with and kinda felt pretty good when Tom fully agreed to that. The total was a daunting sum, and it would take a few years (probably our entire time in uni and then some afterwards) but my reasoning was; we’d learn that way to budget ourselves. We took it to them and Dad agreed, Taylan did and Tom’s parents as well. We started way better than many, but it wouldn’t be Party Central either.

Even then, much was still paid for us. The first full fridge was a gift from the parents and they extracted a standing promise of weekly dinners; Tuesdays at Dad and Taylans, Thursdays at Tom’s parents. Vacations (we were going to the Seychelles, a few weeks from now) we got invited to, no mention of cost. And honestly, would you say no if it was offered? Doubt it.

And now, months later, here we were. Our apartment. And our first meal, pizzas & beer, paid for with the joint account. All ours.

We’d moved in yesterday and would have the whole weekend to ourselves. Then come Monday, I’d start my classes. Tom’s would start on Wednesday, so he’d work on Monday and Tuesday.

By now, he was fully integrated at work and though we’d both have to cut back on hours there, we’d be pretty self-supporting.

I remember Tom getting his first paycheck. It’d burned in his pocket, so to speak and wanted to splurge; we went to Armani because Toine had sent him a text that some new stuff had come in. He blew the entire paycheck on that.

He’d also begun to see a psychiatrist, the one Dad had recommended. The reason for that was because he said he felt good now, and he wanted to stay at that level, afraid that him feeling good about himself would evaporate once we started at UCLA, going into the unknown there. I went with him the first time, at his request; he was very quiet when we drove there. He admitted to not knowing what to expect. When he came out, an hour later, he’d been very upbeat and glad that he’d gone. He told me a few things, but much he kept to himself, which was totally fine with me. I was just glad that he went.

Ah, the summer of 2010 I would always remember as one of the best, ever.

I taught Tom surfing, though he didn’t take to it like both Gary and me enjoyed it, but he gave it a chance, and when Gary returned from Florida, and a few weeks later gained himself a girlfriend, we spent the latter part of the summer double dating, going to the movies or on day trips; we even spent a long weekend in San Diego. The house I grew up in there had been sold, but I showed it to him; I’d lived here for most of my life. My mom lives in Dubai with my stepdad, Jack; we visited earlier this year. Yep, Tom came too and we’d done the whole touristy thing; ride on camels, race in the desert in four-wheel drives. And, seeing as it was a different culture, we were respectful, doing nothing in public like holding hands or kissing. Well…okay, we did a bit of that, but we were very, very careful.

I rolled over onto my stomach, unable to wipe the grin off my face; that’d been a fun vacation. And nope; this was definitely not going to do. Our first morning in our first apartment with my boyfriend? One was missing.

Getting off the bed, I slipped off my boxers and kicked them off while padding over to the bathroom, to make sure our first day would start properly, with a first shower together and a first…well, you get the idea...

The End.