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    Lee Wilson
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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. 
This story is an original work of gay fiction. None of the people or events are real. While some of the town names used may be real, any other geographic references (school, events) are purely fictional. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is completely coincidental. This work is the property of the author, Lee R Wilson, and shall not be reproduced and/or re-posted without his permission. Story ©2024 Lee R Wilson.

Peter the Meteor(ologist) - 8. Getting Closer, and Spit Happens

Set me free, why don't you babe?
Get out my life, why don't you babe?
You really don't want me, you just keep me hanging on
You really don't need me, you just keep me hanging on

The Supremes - 1966, also recorded by Vanilla Fudge - 1967, Wilson Pickett - 1969, Kim Wilde - 1986, among others

22

Fortunately, I received a spare key when I moved in. I gave that to Aaron so he could come and go as he was moving his things. Apparently, he ran into Rebecca somewhere along the way. On Wednesday evening, she sent me a text.

'Since we're not dating anymore, Dad says you need to start paying him back for the furniture and things. When you get your first paycheck, tell me what you can afford, and we'll figure out a way for you to pay.'

Yippee, I picked up another debt. Well, it probably would have cost me almost as much to ship everything from my apartment in Texas. At least this way it will be paid over time. Although I had no idea how much everything he bought would have cost. Most of it was pretty nice.

'OK. I'm really sorry.'

'Fuck you and your apologies.'

I thought to myself, 'Gee, tell me how you really feel.'

Two weeks later, I got paid. Rebecca and I traded texts with each other about how much I would pay, and how often. It was decided I should transfer the funds digitally, so we agreed on an app to use. Then, I was told in no uncertain terms to not contact her again, even if I was dying. Or that was the implication. How else would you take 'Don't contact me again unless you're fucking dead!'?

Aaron and I got along okay. Like we agreed, we started out as roommates. It stayed that way for a little over two months before we took our first step toward something more. We'd gone bike riding one Friday in early March. When we returned to the apartment, a lot of the doors had a note attached:

'Local water main break. Water pressure reduced by 50% Please conserve. Lago Club Management.'

"Oh, great, we get all sweaty and now can't take a shower."

"Well, maybe we can take A shower, PC."

"Huh?"

"We can shower together and use less water."

I agreed, I was ready to take the next step. But I can't believe we used less water for how long we were in the shower. That, and needing to wash away another bodily fluid besides sweat clinched it. Touching him brought back some pleasant memories from my teenage experimentation. We took the mistletoe activity and went a bit beyond kissing, although our lips only touched each other's faces. Our hands; well, that's a different story.

We continued to progress in our intimacy and soon were making love regularly. Things went fine for us until late in Aaron's senior year. April 28th, 2056 is the day the wheels fell off.

23

The same day Aaron received a job offer from a marine research organization in Miami, my failure to identify a trigger that could be used in a calculation to match my visions, cost me my job at the National Hurricane Center. I went into work that Friday like any other day, not knowing that the end of April target had somehow turned into a deadline. I no sooner walked into our office area when Miguel's administrative assistant told me that he wanted to see me as soon as I got in. I knocked on his door frame.

"Come in, Peter."

"Ann said you wanted to see me?"

"Yes. Close the door and take a seat, please."

I immediately got nervous. Miguel almost never closed his door.

"This is never easy, so I'll use the 'rip the band-aid off' analogy. Your failure to identify a method to match your projections makes it impossible for us to keep you here. While your talent is amazing, and very welcome by the staff here, well, the prediction needs to be repeatable regardless of your presence. There have been changes higher up in the NOAA that dictated non-scientific means are not to be used."

"You're letting me go?"

"Yes. You'll get two months' severance, which will be deposited into your bank account on file Monday. I'm really sorry. I wish things were different, but my hands are tied. Jonathan had to fight to keep you this long, saying he thought you were close to a solution."

"But I am close to a solution, I know it."

"Again, I'm sorry, but close isn't good enough in this case. Clean out your desk of any personal items. Being a government institution, I have to have security escort you from the building, so you have thirty minutes to clean out and say your goodbyes. I will provide you with positive recommendations should you require them."

Frustrated and angry, I was quite unprofessional with Miguel, "Well, goodbye, then. I really hope whoever made this decision can sleep the night after a hurricane goes where nobody expects it and people die. I don't have anything in my desk I need. I'm not happy at all with this turn of events, I don't see a need to say goodbye to anyone. You can have security come to my desk now."

I didn't wait for a response. I got up, left Miguel's office and went to my desk to wait for security. I didn't have to wait long. I left the building not more than five minutes after getting the news. I drove home wondering what I was going to do and not looking forward to telling Aaron the news. I didn't know yet that the offer was in his inbox. As it turned out, that only complicated matters. Fortunately, not enough to kill a second relationship with a Carlton.

Aaron came home from school that afternoon happy but wondering why I was home so early.

"I'm glad you're here. I got a job offer today. Wait, why are you here this early?"

"Apparently someone high up in the National Oceanic and Atmospheric Administration doesn't like the fact that I couldn't replicate my predictions mathematically, so I was let go."

"You lost your job?"

"You could say that, but I think it would be more accurate to say it was ripped out from underneath me."

"Oh, geez. What are you going to do?"

"I don't know, but whatever it is, I don't think I want to do it in Miami."

"Damn. I don't want to have to choose between you and the job offer I just got. Fuck!"

"I guess we don't have to make any decisions right now. I'll be getting two months' severance on Monday. We can survive here for a bit longer. I doubt your job offer is enough to keep this place without my salary."

"You're right. It isn't. I wish we drank. I could probably use something like that right now."

"You and me both, but that's not an avenue I'd want to travel down anyway."

We decided to put off any further discussion until I calmed down a little more. Aaron didn't have to respond to the job offer immediately, but he would need to before I was able to find something else, for sure. Monday, my job hunt would begin in earnest.

24

I did some poking around on the Internet over the weekend but found nothing worthwhile. Monday, I figured I'd start with the TV stations that showed an interest in me a year and a half ago. Not that I really wanted to go back to Texas, but I knew it was my best option, even though it felt like I was taking a step backward.

Unfortunately, a year and a half was long enough for many people to have forgotten about me, and personnel changes made even more potential jobs disappear. I did, however, get a lead from the chief meteorologist at a San Antonio station.

Apparently, Texas recently revamped its own hurricane management, opening a new facility just a year before in a little town south of Corpus Christi. I looked up the State of Texas Hurricane Center, and there was indeed a facility in Armstrong, Texas, roughly twenty-five miles west of the Gulf of Mexico, and approximately sixty miles south of Corpus. Almost the old stomping grounds, but not quite.

I did some additional poking around while Aaron was at school. I wasn't sure if he'd want to go into university-based research, but there was an opening at Harte Research Institute for Gulf of Mexico Studies at TAMU-CC (Texas A&M University-Corpus Christi). I printed and bookmarked my research on that topic to share with Aaron when he came home from school.

I phoned the State of Texas Hurricane Center and was able to set up an interview for the following Monday. My time at the NHC seemed to carry a lot of weight. Plus, someone there remembered my prediction about hurricane Lorraine nearly two years before.

Aaron got home around three o'clock and noticed a happier Peter, "Win the lottery or something?"

"Not exactly. Maybe better."

"Better? I'm all ears."

"I have an interview next Monday at another hurricane center. It's not too far away from an opening in the research department of a university."

"You seem to be avoiding mentioning the locations."

I handed him the printouts, "Corpus Christi? That's where you were before, right?"

"Yep."

"Texas has their own hurricane center?"

"Yes. All the states along the gulf and east coasts have their own."

"Um, okay. I guess we both need jobs near water, so that can't be discounted. Let me read what you've printed out and we'll talk some more."

"Sounds like a good plan."

Aaron got himself a snack and sat down next to me to look through the information. When he was finished, I opened my laptop, and he dug a little deeper online himself.

"This looks really good. It mixes a salaried position with a post-graduate study program. I get paid while getting a Master's. It's an hour earlier there. I'll call the contact now."

He called and explained he was graduating with a BS degree in Marine Biology & Ecology and was interested in the research position. He was asked to arrange to have his transcripts sent to the university and fill out the online application. It was almost too much to hope that both these positions would work out for us.

Aaron came home from school the next day and indicated his transcript was sent and he completed the application. All he had to do was wait for their decision. The next three days were nerve-wracking for him. He was promised an answer by the end of the week. Friday came and he got their answer. He walked into the apartment after school all smiles.

"I got accepted contingent on a background check and an in-person interview. I called back and set up the in-person for Monday, I don't have any finals until Wednesday, next week. I assumed you'd pay for the plane ticket. Was I wrong to do that?"

"No. We're a pair. I help you when you need it, and you help me when I need it."

We both missed the fact that there were a number of openings. Apparently, fewer people applied than there were openings, so unknown to us, it was fait accompli that he'd get the position.

Copyright © 2024 Lee Wilson; 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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14 minutes ago, Paladin said:

I've been away so I'm late to this but I'm curious about the mysterious Carlton, which make me think the relationship with Aaron does not survive.

His father is out of the picture. If the relationship doesn’t survive, it’ll be another reason.

Oops, spoiler alert. Thought this was the newest chapter.

Edited by Lee Wilson
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