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    Mark Arbour
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

The Freshmen - 1. Chapter 1

August 2, 2004

Maui, HI

Will

“I like this place,” Travis said, smiling at me. “I never thought you’d take me to dinner at a place called Mama’s Fish House.” In my younger years I’d been adamantly averse to eating seafood, which is why he was giving me shit about it. I’d gotten a little better about it over the past few years.

“They have non-fish food,” I said, gesturing at the steak in front of me. “It’s pretty good.”

“I could see the waitress rolling her eyes at you when you ordered it,” he said.

“Like I care,” I said, which was true. Steak was on the menu, I ordered it, and if some waitress thought that was dumb, fuck her. “Waves were good today.”

“We have really upped our game this summer,” he said, smiling at me. We’d gone on a two-week road trip with Jake and my father, hitting up most of the California beaches in the song “Surf City” by the Beach Boys. We’d done Del Mar, Ventura County, Trestles, Manhattan, Doheny, Haggerties, Swamis, Redondo, and La Jolla. We had gotten better at surfing with all that practice. “We still have a few beaches to hit.”

“We missed San Onofre, Sunset, Waimea, and Narrabeen,” I said.

“We could take a day and go over to Oahu and hit Waimea,” he said. He paused and thought about that. “Nah, it’s not that important. I love it here.”

“So do I,” I agreed.

“I can’t believe they put a balcony outside the bedroom already,” he said, laughing. He’d pointed that out on his first visit here.

“Stef and Malcolm were both hella pissed that they’d overlooked it, so they worked their asses off to fix it,” I said, laughing with him. “It was a really good idea. I love it.”

“I’m glad,” he said, and we paused to gaze at each other lovingly. That lasted for about a minute, then the bullshit we had to deal with surfaced in our minds and ended the happy moment. I swallowed hard then broached the subject I’d been putting off all day.

“I got an email from Zach,” I said.

“Cool,” he said, showing me with his tone that he could give a shit less.

“He asked me if he and Taylor could come out here and spend a week, starting on Thursday,” I said.

“We probably should get back anyway,” he said. We had planned to be here through Sunday.

“Dude, I do not want to give up our time here,” I insisted.

“So you want to invite them here, and you want to force me to deal with them?” he asked nastily. “Just leave it alone, Will.”

“I have done nothing wrong,” I said firmly. “I got an email from him asking me if they could come over here and I told you about it.”

“You want me to tell you to fly them over here, then when they’re here we’ll have some big fucking kumbaya moment by the pool, and everything will be fucking perfect,” he spat.

“That is not what I want,” I objected, remembering to keep my voice down, even though I was pissed off enough to scream at him.

“No?” he challenged.

“No,” I said, then sighed. “I mentioned it to you to give you the option to see them. If you want to, it’s fine with me; if you don’t, that’s fine too. There is no way that you can have a simple kumbaya moment and fix your relationships with those two.”

“I don’t want to fix things with either one of them,” he asserted strongly.

“I didn’t know that, and now I do,” I said. “I’ll tell them they can come out next week.”

“How could you not know how I feel about them?” Travis asked, unwilling to let the topic go. “Throughout all of this legal bullshit, I’ve been pretty fucking clear.” The LAPD had decided that Curtis Buck had indeed killed himself, but they’d asked all of us a bunch of questions about it. It had been grueling, especially for Travis, Taylor, and Zach.

“You can’t change your mind?” I asked. His eyes bulged as his anger soared.

“I spent $50 million to make Taylor and Big happy and to keep them from bugging me. I paid my price,” he said.

“All I did was tell you what he said,” I stated, ignoring the chunk of cash we’d both had to fork over. “You make it sound like this is some big plot on my part to heal the rift in your family.”

“I don’t want to heal that rift. I don’t want a relationship with either Taylor or Zach. Not now, not next week, not ever,” he said firmly.

“Then next time I get an email like that, I’ll just deal with it and I won’t mention it to you,” I said, and focused on finishing up my food.

“You do that,” he said. I was trying to be nice in the face of his assholishness, but it wasn’t easy. We finished eating and the waitress brought the check. He grabbed it and gave her his credit card. “I got it.”

“Thanks,” I said. She came back and handed him the little portfolio that they put those things in; he signed off on it and pocketed his credit card.

“You ready?” he asked.

“Sure,” I said calmly. He all but stormed out of the restaurant while I followed at a more deliberate pace. Mama’s was close to our house, so we’d just walked here. When he got to the beach, he stopped and waited for me, then he trudged along with me as we headed back.

“When do you leave for Greece?” he asked. His tone was a little nicer, but not much. I was going to the Olympics, and I’d even scored a working gig helping out at the aquatic center. How that happened was beyond me, since the last time I’d been a helper, at Hamar in Norway, I’d damn near pissed off the entire Skating Federation.

“I think we go out on the 11th,” I said. “Opening Ceremonies are on the 13th.”

“Should be fun,” he said.

“You can come with us,” I said. I’d already made that offer, and he’d turned me down flat.

“Tickets to the events would be impossible to get,” he said, the same excuse he’d given me last time.

“Last time I checked, we were both still rich as fuck,” I said, using a line I’d hit him with a long time ago. He smiled at me, and that helped to improve our moods.

“This is the last week off I’ll probably have for a while,” he said. “I’m supposed to be in coaching next week, then next Friday I have an audition for a commercial.”

“Cool,” I said enthusiastically. “What’s it for?”

“Frosted Flakes,” he said, which made me start laughing.

“Theyy’rrre Grrrreat,” I said, doing a bad imitation of Tony the Tiger.

“Dude, you should be in the commercial,” he suggested. “You can be Tony.”

“No way they would want to cover up my handsome face with a fake Tiger head,” I said, pretending to be vain.

“Yeah, that’s the issue,” he said sarcastically, making me chuckle.

“You’re really hitting the ground running with this acting gig,” I said to him. “I’m really proud of you.”

“I’ve only got an audition for one commercial lined up,” he said, being cautious, then he smiled. “There’s a couple more opportunities that are cooler than that.”

“What?” I asked.

“It’s bad luck to talk about things before I even get the audition,” he said. He saw me get annoyed. “Once I know, one way or the other, you’ll be the first person I call.”

“Call? Where will I be?” I teased.

“Well, you’ll be in Greece for a couple of weeks, then you start at Harvard,” he said. He’d mentioned that last part with a certain amount of sadness, and that clued me in to why he was being such a dick at dinner. It was cute that he was upset I was going to be leaving, not that I was any happier about being separated from him.

“Classes don’t start until September 20, so I’ll go out there and move in the week before,” I said.

“So you’ll be back for a couple of weeks before then,” he mused. “That’s awesome!”

“I think so,” I agreed. “When do you start at UCLA?” He’d made the decision a month ago to go there, and had seemed pretty excited about it.

“I decided to wait until the Winter Quarter to start,” he said. I looked at him, not a little stunned. “I want to focus on acting for right now, and see where it goes. If I launch fast, I’ll go with it. If I don’t, I’ll pick up classes in January.”

“That sounds like a good idea to me, but it just goes against everything that’s been pounded into me,” I said, referring mostly to Grand.

“I’m worried about what he’ll say,” Travis said, having read my mind. Grand had tutored him and helped him finish up at Brentwood, and I knew he had a pretty vested interest in Travis’s academic success. Travis really looked up to Grand, and his approval was important to Travis.

“I think that he’ll be fine with it,” I said, wondering if that was true.

“Right,” Travis said skeptically.

“Look, you haven’t ditched the whole college idea; you just put it off for a few months,” I said. “I remember when Matt decided not to start on his graduate degree and planned to take some time off to be a dad. Grand was really supportive of that.”

“This is kind of different,” Travis said, not really convinced.

“If you told him you weren’t going to college because you just wanted to lie on the couch and beat off all day, he’d be disappointed in you,” I joked. “You have a plan, and he’ll appreciate that.”

“But I’m really good at lying on the couch and jacking off,” he said, making me laugh.

“No doubt,” I agreed. We got back to the house and climbed the stairs to our room, then went out onto the kick-ass balcony. “Definitely a good idea,” I said, as I pulled out a joint and lit it.

“Definitely,” he agreed, and took a hit. “Kind of quiet here now.”

“You mean because Kiki moved out?” I asked, and chuckled. She tended to be pretty loud.

“Where’d she go, anyway?” he asked. That hadn’t come up yet.

“She moved in with Joe Kelekolio,” I said. “He’s the guy who’s supposed to be working on our compound.”

“No shit?” he asked.

I nodded. “She lit a fire under his ass at work, and he lit her body up at home,” I said, getting a laugh from Travis. “That’s where she went when we came out here for Spring Break.”

“That’s pretty cool,” he said. “I’m glad she found a dude to make her happy.”

“Me too,” I said, then paused for a bit. “I have an idea.”

“What?” he asked me nervously.

“We could leave here on Wednesday, head over to Oahu and surf Waimea,” I suggested. “Then we could head to Escorial, and from there we can spend a few days in Santa Cruz.”

“I still haven’t seen your house there,” he said. “After that, the only place left that would be tough to get to is Narrabeen.”

“Maybe over Winter Break,” I said. “It’s summer in Australia when it’s winter here.”

“Maybe,” he said, then smiled. “Let’s do it.”

“I’ll set everything up when I’m not stoned,” I joked. Before we went to bed, I sent Zach an email telling him he was welcome to bring Taylor to visit, gave him the codes to the door, and told him where the keys to the Toyota truck were.

 

August 4, 2004

In the air over the Pacific

Will

“That was a lot of fun,” Travis said. We were snuggled up in the bedroom of the plane, having just had another amazing sexual experience.

“The surfing or the fuck?” I asked.

“Both,” he said. “If I’d have had to choose one, I’d have taken the fuck.”

“Yeah, waves were only okay at Waimea,” I joked, getting a frown from him.

“Thanks,” he said, being grumpy.

“You going to tell me what’s bothering you, or are you just going to be bitchy on and off?” I demanded, losing patience with him.

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” he asked loudly.

“Indoor voices,” I said in a smarmy way that almost set him free. He made to get up but I stopped him. “Wait.”

“Why, so you can give me more shit?” he challenged.

“Travis, I love you,” I said to him earnestly. “Lately we’ll be doing really well, then all of a sudden you’ll get pissed off at me. That’s so not like you.”

“So I have to be happy all the time?” he demanded.

“Tell me that what is bothering you doesn’t involve me, and I’ll drop it,” I said. He looked at me, his brows furrowed in anger, then he sighed.

“Why do I have to talk about this? You’re like some chick who wants to know how I’m feeling all the time,” he accused. He was trying to piss me off so I’d get mad enough to drop it, like that would work.

“Because something is wrong between us, and you are too important to me to let it just sit there like a big piece of shit,” I said. “Why are you afraid to tell me?”

“It’s just hard,” he grumbled.

“Are you trying to tell me you don’t love me?” I asked and was horrified that might be the case. I almost regretted my words, because if he said I was right, that would be a whole lot of pain for me to handle.

“That is not the issue,” he said firmly, then sighed. “It’s just the opposite. I don’t know how you feel about me.”

“You have to know that I love you,” I insisted. Shit, I’d spent the last two months trying to help him deal with his family shit, and I’d shelled out $50 million to try to make things better for him and his family. And Zach.

“You say that, but every time we try to have the DTR talk, you blow me off,” he said bitterly. Saying that seemed to open the floodgates. “So you’ll go to Athens and fuck a bunch of dudes there, and forget all about me, then you’ll go to Harvard, and fuck a bunch of dudes, and by Thanksgiving you’ll dump me.”

“That is not how it is at all,” I said. “I am so sorry I didn’t talk to you about this.”

“And you keep sticking up for Zach, forking over a shitload of money for him, and you’re still so in sync with him that everyone asks you what he’s thinking and you know because you can read his mind,” he said. “How am I supposed to deal with that, especially since he’s a dude I can’t stand and I sure as fuck don’t trust?”

“Do you trust me?” I asked him.

“This is where you tell me I’m full of shit and I have no faith in you,” he spat bitterly. He made to get up and get dressed, and this time I let him and did the same thing.

“I promised you I wouldn’t sleep with him, and you promised me the same thing,” I said. “I won’t break that promise.”

“It’s not just about sex; it’s about an emotional bond,” Travis said. “You still love him.”

“I still care about him,” I corrected. “I’m only in love with one guy.”

He grimaced, then smiled slightly. “Who is he? I’ll kick his ass.” I laughed with him, then we went back to our seats.

“How do you want us to be?” I asked. “I mean, yeah I’m going to the Olympics, but there’s only one guy there I plan to fuck.”

“Who?” he asked.

“Ian Thorpe,” I said. “I want to see how big his Thorpedo is.”

He chuckled with me. “He’s not even gay.”

“I saw him practicing in Whittier last month,” I said. “He says he’s not gay, but I think there’s a pretty good chance that he is.”

“If anyone can find out, it’s you,” he said, partly annoyed, partly in admiration.

“When I go to Harvard, I might find some guys to hook up with,” I said. “You’ll be in LA, working on your career. You might find someone to hook up with too.”

“I guess they don’t call it the casting couch for nothing,” he said glumly.

“I mean, that’s probably what will happen with us. If I fuck around with those guys, it doesn’t mean I love you any less. If you nail someone, does that mean we’re over?” I asked.

“No,” he said.

“So just tell me how you want us to be?” I reiterated.

“I want us to be together, and I really don’t want to deal with other people in our relationship,” he said. “I’m frustrated because that’s unfair to you and will probably be tough for me to live up to.”

“And?” I asked, sensing there was more.

“And I don’t know if you even want that with me,” he said. “Shit, Casey was telling you that you can probably handle multiple relationships, so I don’t even know if my dream is a possibility.”

“I totally fucked this up,” I said, and was almost despondent. “I let my soul searching on this non-monogamy topic make you really insecure. I am sorry.”

“That’s fine, but that doesn’t really address the issue,” he said.

“I could do that, just be together, the two of us,” I said. More than that, even as I spoke those words, I knew they were true.

“Seriously?” he asked and smiled.

“Seriously,” I said. “I think it would be tough for both of us to do right now, but if we’re in a place where we can be together, it would work.”

“So unless we’re living together, you can’t handle being just with me?” he demanded.

“It would be hard to do, but if it meant I would lose you otherwise, I would try to do that,” I said.

“That’s not very convincing,” he grumbled.

“I got to see how college life was when Matt and Wade lived with us,” I said. “It’s kind of a free-for-all, and everyone is into figuring themselves out, partying, and getting laid.”

“And you’d be stuck there, jacking off and thinking about me,” he said bitterly.

“You make it seem like you won’t have any temptations,” I said, finally getting a little annoyed with him. “You’ll be working on your career, and part of that is going to mean hanging out with people like Paris Hilton.”

“Why would I do that?” he asked, confused.

“Because with your money, your looks, and your pedigree, you have a right to be in that circle,” I said. “You’ll do it because it will get you noticed and will get you gigs you wouldn’t have a shot at otherwise.”

He thought about it for a bit, then nodded. “I can see that.”

“That’s a fast crowd,” I said. “I mean, we both blew Billy Joe for that Green Day CD. What would you do to get a part you wanted?”

“You make me sound like a whore,” he said.

“You make me sound like a slut,” I countered. We sat there in silence for a while, then he finally spoke.

“If I asked you to marry me in four years, what would you say?” he asked me. I paused, pretending to think about it, even though I knew the answer.

“I’d say yes,” I said.

“Then the rest of this bullshit. You fucking the Thorpedo and a bunch of closeted frat boys, doesn’t matter to me,” he said.

“And you sucking a dick to be in a commercial doesn’t bother me,” I said, making him laugh. We sat there in silence for a bit before I spoke again. “I’m sorry I made you so insecure.”

“I should have said something,” he said.

“You did say something, a bunch of times, but I didn’t hear you,” I said, the guilt oozing out of my mouth along with the words.

He smiled at me. “I forget that with you, I sometimes have to be a little louder.” That made me laugh until I thought about how that applied to my father as well. Sometimes you had to hit him with a Mack truck to get his attention. I so didn’t want to be like that.

“I’ll try to do better,” I promised.

August 5, 2004

Escorial

Palo Alto, CA

Brad

“Hey there,” I said pleasantly as I answered my cell phone. I’d seen from the caller ID it was Jack. He was married to my sister Claire, but their marriage was still unstable and they were supposedly trying to get back to a good place with each other.

“Hey,” he said cheerfully. “You’re in town?”

“I came back last night, but Jake won’t be back until tomorrow,” I explained.

“You can stand to be apart for that long?” he asked, giving me shit.

“I can stand it; I just don’t like it,” I said, refusing to respond to his taunt. “You should come up for dinner tonight.”

“Why?”

“Will and Travis are here, then they’re going to Santa Cruz tomorrow,” I said. “Travis decided to delay going to UCLA until the winter quarter.”

“You think JP will lose his mind?” Jack asked, laughing. Claire and I called him Dad, the kids called him Grand, and everyone else called him JP.

“Probably not, but there’s a chance, and if he does, I don’t want to miss it,” I joked. My father was so stoic and controlled that when something knocked him off his calm pedestal, it was usually entertaining to watch.

“I’ll see if Claire wants to show up,” he said.

“So you guys are coordinating your schedules?” I asked, fishing for info on how they were doing.

“When it comes to visiting Escorial, I think it’s a good idea,” he said noncommittally.

“Smart boy,” I said, then decided to be more intrusive. “How are you guys doing?”

He sighed at my nosiness. “Really well. We’re learning to be together again, but there are no major commitments,” he said.

“So you can still fuck around with your young doctor?” I asked playfully.

“I can,” he said happily. "I just don't talk about it with Claire."

“Probably smart,” I said. “Sounds like you guys are really trying to repair things.”

“We are, but we pretend that we’re not,” he said, making me chuckle. “I think she likes her freedom, and she likes the fact that she can use it to bug me.” He said that last line with a lot of bitterness.

“So your solution is to put up with it while enjoying Jessica?” I asked.

“Pretty much,” he grumbled.

“Sounds like a replay of my battle with Robbie,” I said grimly, remembering how awful that was.

“Yeah, only in this situation I’m Robbie, and he looked like shit during that whole nightmare,” he said. It made sense that appearances would be important to Jack.

“I don’t think you’ve been as stupid as he was, and I haven’t heard anyone dragging you down or slamming you,” I said honestly.

“Good to know,” he said, but he didn't sound convinced.

“I remember that when I was in that situation, I was totally convinced that I was the injured one, and got to the point where it was up to Robbie to win me back,” I said.

“You think that’s what I have to do?” he asked.

“I think it helps,” I said. “I mean, can’t you take Claire to New York for a long weekend, go to a couple of shows or something?”

“I should do that,” he said. “That’s good advice.”

“Just try to think of things she likes and do them for her,” I suggested. “That shows that you still love her, and it also shows how well you know her.”

“I can see that,” he said. “Is that what finally convinced you to take Robbie back?”

“No, that just set the stage,” I said. “What did it was when I was pelted with a bunch of adversity, when I found out that Alexandra Carmichael was my wicked stepmother, and Robbie was there for me, totally backing me up. Until then, I wasn’t sure that I could rely on him.”

“I can see that, but I don’t think we have a similar crucible aimed at us,” Jack said. “Then again, with this family, you never know.”

“True that,” I said.

“I’ll see you at dinner,” he said.

“Awesome,” I responded, then ended the call. I went down to dinner early and automatically migrated to JP’s office. The door was closed, but I didn’t let that bother me. I knocked, then waited.

“Enter,” I heard JP say. I walked in to find him sitting in his chair at his table, with Stef in the other chair and Will and Travis on the couch. Every time I saw Travis, I could not help but acknowledge that my son had amazing taste in men. That boy was hot.

“Am I interrupting?” I asked and made to leave.

“No, you’re fine,” Will said, and scooted over to make space for me on the couch. “Travis and I just came in to talk to Grand.”

“This sounds interesting,” I said, even though I knew what it was about.

“Undoubtedly,” Stef said, with his waspish tone that made it seem like he didn’t care about this conversation, while in reality he was totally engaged.

“I, uh, I’ve been working with my acting coach a lot, and I have a couple of auditions lined up,” Travis said nervously.

“That is quite impressive,” Stef said. I could almost read his mind, and how he would be scheming as to who to call to help Travis’s career take off. He looked at me, figured out that I was reading his thoughts, and frowned.

“I, uh, I was planning to wait to start at UCLA until Winter Quarter, just to see how things go,” he said. I was sure his palms were sweating enough to water the lawn. “If it really takes off, then I’ll go with it. If it doesn’t, then I’ll start in January.”

“And you were worried that you were disappointing me by not pursuing your education?” JP asked him seriously.

Travis sighed. “Yeah, that’s pretty much it.” It was really sweet that Travis, who had no father, had decided to look up to JP and all but put him in that role as a surrogate.

“And you thought that too?” JP asked Will.

“No, I said you’d be fine with it,” Will said. It was fun to see how confident he was with JP. “I told him that if he was postponing school to work on his career, you’d approve. I also told him you wouldn’t if he was just putting off going so he could lie around on the couch and jack off all day.”

Stef giggled, while JP rolled his eyes. “That is an accurate, if crude, representation about how I feel about this,” JP said, then looked at Travis, his green eyes piercing through the young man. “I am very proud of you, for many reasons, and I know that if this opportunity doesn’t work out, you will return to the hallowed halls of higher education.”

“Thanks,” Travis said, evidently relieved. I was happy that JP was so supportive, but kind of disappointed that dinner would not be dramatic.

 

Copyright © 2024 Mark Arbour; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

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11 minutes ago, Anton_Cloche said:

Interesting chapter, with lots to filter through.

One item that caught my 'editor's eye'; at the Olympic level, all sporting organizations, in U.S. and around the world are called 'Federations' not "Skating Confederation"

(Editing, continuity, ghost writing, Devil's Advocate etc., it's pays the bills, sometimes.🤔)

Fixed. Thank you’

  • Like 3
14 hours ago, PrivateTim said:

Will is nothing like a narcissist. He is just an asshole.  A typical born rich asshole.

Waimea in August is flatter than an 11yo gymnast. Should have gone to the Wedge in Newport.

It is so good to see you back!  You have been missed.  
Sometimes you get lucky at Waimea even in August.  Besides, it was a check a beach off the list deal.  

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