The Broken Circles - 1. Chapter 1 - Chance

Chapter 1 - Chance

"Eli, hurry up, the truck's all packed up," Mason called out. I heard his voice while I stood in the basement giving another look-over to make sure nothing was being left behind. It was hard to miss out I guess, the entire house was barren; everything that needed to be thrown out had, and everything I was taking with me had been neatly boxed up. All that was left were memories of my old home in DC. Family, friends, loved ones, each figure imprinted in the brickwork that sustained this house. I breathed in deeply, hoping I'd absorb a few leftover impressions as my fingers skidded across the many layers of painted brick. This was the house I shared with Malcolm, I thought; the semi-sweet relationship that I thought would last a lifetime. In essence, we were kids and had a lot of growing up to do. Letting go seemed difficult though, and moving out was the last of the purging I had to do.

And I thought it would last forever. I could almost smell his cologne of sandalwood and the whiff of Earl Grey tea we'd share in the early evenings. The subtle hint of milk that went along sent tingles down my spine. Semi-sweet memories. For the first time in a while, I was struck with a feeling of yearning for the old days. His touch, his kisses, the looks of longing; it was as if a floodgate had suddenly opened, washing over my senses. Footsteps upstairs jostled me back into the cold barren house once my home..

"Are you all right?" Mason's soft therapeutic voice asked, his hand on my shoulder. I turned my head and looked at him feeling lost. He wrapped his arms around me and hugged tightly. "It's okay, Eli."A man my age wouldn't know how to start over. The sudden realization had me turned upside down.

Mason walked me up the stairs and to the front door. He threw me a supportive smile and winked slyly. The group's 'shrink' had always been in the background of my life. Mason has always been just out of the periphery of being a best friend; he served as the purely objective surveyor, the odd man out in almost every respect. Until recently. David, Chance and Malcolm were all gone from my life, yet the unyielding rock that was Mason stuck around. Funny how that works, I thought grimly, absentmindedly futzing with the zipper on my coat. I spent 20 years in that house, growing up within its walls, owning it when my aunt and uncle moved to Florida and maintaining it. But now I was starting a new chapter in my life. A promising job in Texas doing commercial art had come into fruition, an opportunity I couldn't turn down. Even if it meant leaving my old home for a new one, a few states away. All those years of doubt and self-hate about my talent no longer fettered me to this area. If anything, it helped prompt this decision.

Mason gave me a sideways glance and smiled. "Just think, Eli, You're starting over. Life begins anew!" he said, starting up the U-Haul van. His words resonated in my head. Ghosts of my past filled my field of vision. The porch where I had skinned my knee, where Chance had to console me because there was a broken piece of glass that pierced the skin. The doorway where David and I shared a brief but passionate kiss. The stairs that I fled after the messy breakup with Mack. Not all memories were pleasant, but they were mine, shared with people that meant something to me. And then it struck me.

I didn't start living until I met Chance.

***

I couldn't tell you a time when Chance Burmont wasn't the highlight of my day. The memory of us meeting was etched lovingly in my mind. The story, I guess, takes place at Andy Mol's house one New Year's eve. The semester of my senior year, New Years was meant to commemorate us on a year well done, but not necessarily for me. I passed by my friends, each paired with their respective dates and potential sex partners, however I was by myself, as I had spent all of my highschool life. This was really no different, only this was the last true New Years eve, we'd spend all together before we all scattered to the winds. Though, in reality, the hairline fractures of the group's cohesion had begun; Drew as well as other friends like Lionel and Andy had already graduated and started attending the local state university. The party was mostly made for me and my class of misfits.

It was a different kind of party though, I recognized very few people aside from friends I went to highschool with. The strangers seemed so grown up to my still rather scrawny self, so sophisticated so demure! Their conversation were about college courses they were taking, drinking on school nights, and scoring chicks. Is this what is in store for me? I hope not, I remember thinking to myself, I wouldn't fit in what that crowd. But here they were and here I was, stuck in a house full of adults and fornicators.

I parked myself near the finger food and non-spiked alcoholic beverages and watched the going ons with those around me. Winters were always bad for my mood and health; going to parties where I could watch people suck face never helped matters. Nevertheless, I vowed to make the most of this party and enjoy myself. Mm, I thought, taking a sip from the punch, maybe this was spiked.

My eyes glanced over the crowd and noticed there was one guy standing by the fireplace unattended. He didn't look as bored as I felt, in fact he had a sense of bewilderment that caught my attention instantly. He was tall, I could tell by Andy, standing with his back to him; this mysterious lone stranger was just as tall, probably 6'2''. His slim build accentuated his height, dressed in a pair of khakis and a button down shirt. His pale face had a tinge of red coloring his cheeks and his sharp pointed nose. Almost as if he could tell someone was eyeing him, he turned his head in my direction, looked me dead in the eyes and gave me a rather disarming smile.

Then he walked over to me.

"Hi, I'm Chance," he said, extending a hand. I shook it, while smiling nervously. Just then, the DJ downstairs started blasting Sir Mixalot's "Baby Got Back", the reverberation off the walls and bass made all conversation near impossible.

"I'm Eli!" I shouted over the noise. Chance's brow furrowed and he leaned his head and turned his ear toward my mouth. He said something I couldn't catch; Damn, this music is way too loud, I thought maddeningly. Finally after exchanging words we couldn't make out, Chance gestured toward the back of the house and I followed him.

"Man, my ears are still ringing," he said, letting out a chuckle. His voice was very gentle, tinges of warmth and compassion laced every word, absorbing me into his presence. I nodded, buttoning up my jacket. "Where were we?"

"I'm Eli, it's nice to meet you," I said. Dumbly I extended my hand and we shook hands...again. After I realized that, we shared another laugh. His milky brown eyes just emitted warmth, sandy brown bangs that hung in the way did nothing to hide them. For the first time in a while, I was truly lost for words. What should have been words of small talk was replaced with nothing save for my goofy gawking expression. Man, I thought, lost amidst his captivating gaze, I suck at small talk. "Ah, erm, so are you a friend of the Munkies?"

"I guess you could say that. I'm a classmate of Drew's. You all are friends, right?" He asked. I nodded dumbly. "Then you must a pretty cool guy."

"I wouldn't necessarily say, 'cool'," I said, half-joking. Chance grinned a positively radiant smile that warmed me to my core, making me forget how cold it was. I cleared my throat nervously and said, "Chance? That's a cool name."

"Yeah, well my mom had originally wanted to call me Lucky. My dad managed to convince her otherwise," he said laughing. I chuckled. Sir Mixalot's anthem to big booty had ended about that time and people began clearing out. Drew emerged from the patio and waved to me, his girlfriend Whitney on his free arm. Had he been nearby he would have hugged me, but he, wearing nothing but a dress shirt visibly shuddered from the cold and moved back inside. My friends were very touchy-feely moreso than most males are, but that never seemed to worry them. Now me, I was the token gay guy of my friends. At the time, I was still deep in the closet, afraid of who I was and scared of how I was developing. At my age, it was actually hip to be gay and here I was, totally unhip.

"...so you play Dungeons & Dragons?" Chance asked casually. I nodded sheepishly.

"What gave it away? The geeky t-shirt, or is there a sign taped to my back?" I asked. Chance let out a gentle laugh and shook his head.

"Drew games at the dorms, I think I might have seen you there once upon a time." I nodded dumbly, not able to recall ever seeing this seemingly perfect man at any gatherings in the past. "But still, that's cool. I use to play when I was 16."

"Whoa, how old are you?" I asked dubiously. He looked as though he was still in highschool.

"Oh, I'm 18. Finished my freshmen year at UMCP." There was no strange bravado in his voice, like other college kids who think they have 'done it all.' Instead, Chance treated his words carefully, making each sentence seem understated.

"Why'd you quit?" I asked. Chance cast his eyes to the sky pondering my words carefully.

"D&D? Oh because I ran out of people to play with. Junior and Senior years in highschool were very demanding and I found myself immersed in books to keep up with my studies. I miss it at times, but you know; it's one of those things you end up out growing," he said then quickly added, "Not that you're wasting your time or anything...no offense."

"None taken," I replied politely. We exchanged chuckles. It turned out in our conversations that Chance had come from a wealthy upper middle class family of older hippies. Chance was one of the few teenagers that didn't resent his family and openly admitted to taking after his father. While chatting we found a bench near the frozen koi pond and sat down to rest our feet. He seemed so candid about his life, so open. He didn't mind stopping his story to hear a comment from me, and was asking questions about my life, to keep the conversation from turning one-sided. After 2 hours passed quickly, I knew that Chance would be one of those people who would be hard if not impossible to forget.

"So what about you? What's your story, Eli?" he asked, leaning back, resting his weight on his elbows. I grimaced and took a few seconds to formulate my answer. Finally I decided on asking a question instead.

"Do you want the long end or short? Both are pretty boring, in my opinion," I chuckled.

"Well, in that case, the short end. That'll give me another reason to hang out with you later." Now *that* was a line I've never heard before. I think I turned a few shades redder and mentally thanked God that it was dark outside. Was he flirting? Fear and excitement gripped my senses.

"Well, I was born in California, adopted by a family in Maryland, hence the Jewish name. They're cool, I guess," I said quietly. I wasn't sure if I wanted to go into any great detail. Chance turned his head and blinked at me.

"...You're kidding, that's it?" he exclaimed. "I go off for an hour about minor details and you sum up your life in, what, 2 sentences?"

"That's the teaser, bucko," I said, smiling coyly. The clouds overhead parted, letting the moonlight catch his face just right. Chance was exceedingly handsome. Squarish jaw, a constant grin that was contagious. His deep brown eyes twinkled when he was at peace. There was definitely something about Chance Burmont. I wonder if he was gay?

"So I'll definitely need to take your number so we can hang out again," he smiled and flashed me his patented good-guy smile. I smiled sheepishly. Right then, from the back patio, a long creeping shadow extended, blocking out the light.

"Chance?" it was a female voice that called out. We turned our heads to see who spoke, though Chance had a look of recognition in his eyes. A girl, about Chances age, very attractive build and look stood at the top of the steps, resting her weight on one leg, her arms resting on her hips. "Oh, there you are. I've been looking all over for you!"

"I'm sorry, Tiff, I've been here for the past 2 hours with my new friend, Eli."

"Well, lets go, I'm bored," she said impatiently, giving me a quick look over. Tiffany Dansforth would later become my archnemesis for years to come. Chance scrambled to his feet and ran to her, with me in tow.

"I want you to meet my friend, Eli. Eli, this is Tiffany," Chance said, cheerfully. I held out my hand to shake hers but she looked down at my hand and gave me a dirty look.

"Yeah, whatever. Chance, are you ready?" she asked, turning her body to face her boyfriend and to ignore me in one fell swoop. Well, that answers *that* question of his sexuality. Chance opened his mouth about to say something, but she quickly grabbed his hand and almost literally began dragging him to the front of the house. We managed to shake hands one last time. He mouthed a very meek, "I'm sorry!" as he disappeared in the crowd. Well, that royally sucked, I thought, not entirely sure how to react. Then I noticed a crumbled sheet of paper in my hand and a messily inked phone number. That is how Chance entered my life. Soon after he became a pillar that held up my world that worshiped his.

***

In the weeks to follow, Chance and I were inseparable. Initially I was worried that I was coming across as desperate, heck, at this point, he didn't know that a) I was gay and b) I was interested in him romantically. I held back, lord knows I tried, to keep myself from reaching for the phone to hear his voice. Call it highschool drama but I was just in that state of neediness, a personality quirk I don't think I ever outgrew. What surprised me was that Chance called almost as often as I did, almost often enough to make me think he was interested. I know, more wishful thinking on my part. We hung out a couple times a week when he was out of class and I didn't have homework. After years of putting myself through academic hell, I decided to dumb down my workload, and have my senior year be relaxed. Chance drove an old rust bucket Rabbit which he fondly named Judy, and when he first came by the house, he looked like a clown coming out of a tiny clown car, he was that tall. I swooned when I saw the dimples on his face deepen as he smiled at me, running his hands through his unruly hair.

I was in love. Chance filled that void in my life that I so desperately needed in my relatively formative teenage years. Sure, he was straight, and there was no sex involved, but after years of feeling alone, I finally felt wanted, almost needed. While Chance made it very clear that his girlfriend came first, she seemed busy enough with college life, extracurricular activities on campus and her sorority that she almost didn't seem to have enough time for him. So I picked up the emotional slack she left off. Don't get me wrong, I didn't much care for her, but I was sort of glad that she could just up and leave Chance alone when she did (which was often). Chance and I treated these times like short vacations; spent at coffee shops, which became a new favorite pastime, greasy spoons, or at parks. He almost made my constant worry of my future seem nonexistent. It's not to say it didn’t exist; by the time Christmas Break ended for me, the near-sudden realization of my life after highschool hit me like running into a glass door at full tilt. I was directionless. I can't blame them at least in hindsight, but my family wasn't too keen on my going to college; grades weren't great, I had tested quite mediocre on the SAT's and my family didn't have enough saved up to make it a great investment.

It didn't stop me from looking into it. Chance and I drove to the Corcoran when a horde of representatives of art schools would be present to look at portfolios. I was unwise in waiting until my senior year to begin taking art classes, but my portfolio was presentable if a bit small. I would have taken more earlier in my highschool career but I was so hellbent in appeasing the almost-never-pleased family that I crammed as many math and science courses that I ended up having a nervous breakdown at the age of 16. At 17, with my life still in shambles, my best friends family suggested that I do what was fun for ME, so I took creative writing, studio art and commercial art my senior year. Thankfully the representative at a small art school in Ohio seemed pleased with my portfolio, mentioning only a few problems with it that he mentioned to me to work on. I was stoked. Chance and I celebrated the successful day at a greasy spoon in Silver Spring called Tastees, drinking a virtually endless supply of coffee.

“So are you going to do it?” Chance asked. His eyes lit up when they found mine. I shrugged, after the initial high had passed.

“I dunno, I really want to go, but money is tight, and I'm not sure if I can afford it. Not everyone comes from a white-collar family like you do, Chance,” I said grimly, reaching for the small individualized creamers. They were neatly stacked in a pyramid by Chance, when the waitress gave us our first cup coffee and had remained untouched since. I peeled back the paper label and dribbled dots of cream into my black stale coffee and watched it swirl in an oddly hypnotic pattern.

“True, but that's what student loans are for, right?” he replied, taking a sip from his coffee. I sighed, damning the misfortune of not being born rich. “Besides, it'd be nice to move away from Maryland, right? Imagine the people you'd meet, the girls you'd date, and how well you'd flourish doing what you're GOOD at. I have no doubt you'd do--”

“I'm gay.” The words escaped my mouth as my mind was set to cruise control, clearly hypnotized by the swirling milk. Sure, it was a lame excuse but I'm sticking with it. Chance stopped talking when he heard my words and looked at me with a little shock, a little confused expression on his face. After my mind registered what I had said, I think my jaw dropped low enough to hit the table and I looked up to meet his gaze. “Oh shit.”

“It's okay, Eli.” Was his only response. He reached over and gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. “If you're worrying that I will freak out, don't. You've been a great friend this year, I wouldn't want to lose that for the world.”

“Whew,” I said, closing my eyes, taking in his words. “I don't know what possessed me to say that.” Of course you do, you doofus, I thought, you're in LOVE with the man. Now work up the strength to admit it to him. Before you lose the moment!

“Heck, I kind of wish I was single and gay; we'd make one helluva couple, don't you think?” he asked. I felt my heart plunge into my gut. Not only had I lost the moment, I felt my world begin to shrivel before my very eyes. Keep smiling. Keep smiling and he won't notice your pain, Eli.

“I'll have to give it some thought about college. If it's in the stars, it'll happen, I guess,” I said. Changing the subject seemed so perfect right then and there. “We'll see.”

***

And in the stars it was. I got accepted to the only college I applied for and while I would have no monetary assistance, as Chance had said, “That's what student loans were for.”

With the semester winding down, my group of friends began to disperse, each of us afraid of what the future had in store of us. Old highschool relationships began to wilt, friendships were prematurely tossed aside in preparation for new ones to be made and there was me, still uncertain of how life would be in less than a year.

With the state of my highschool friendships in a constant flux, I naturally gravitated to Chance for emotional gratitude. He helped me pack up my belongings and drove me up to Ohio where I would start my new life. He only stayed 2 days, making sure I had all of the amenities I needed, even paying for dinner and a bulk of my art supplies. Things were looking up.

… “Eli?” I heard a familiar voice call out in the darkness. I felt two hands grab and pull me into a tight protective hug.

“Chance…” I said, not sure how he had found out I had come back to Maryland. My eyes were adjusting to the low light of dusk and to my astonishment, there he was in his perfect splendor. Not a dream, not a nightmare, just Chance. “God, it’s really you.”

“Yeah, its me. Pat told me you moved back and I knew I had to see you,” he said, his voice warm, soft. I nodded. My senses betrayed me, my heart yearned for Chance even though I had seen Travis just hours before. He scanned my eyes as if peering into the murkiness of my soul, found the hurt and whispered, “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. I’m just glad you’re safe.”

“Thanks Chance. That means a lot to me for you to say that--” I said, forcing myself to smile, but the tears were already beginning to bubble up. Chance knew me so well; my voice cracked under the pressure, his cue to embrace me once more, to squeeze out the tears. And for the second time that day, I broke down sobbing.

Being new to a city made me feel very small and very inconsequential to the world around me. I struck up a friendship with a guy in one of my classes, Travis, and we hit it off immediately. We were seen about campus chatting, laughing, joking about the other students in class and it didn't take long for us to admit we were falling for each other. The relationship was sweet, innocent and so very, very short.

What it boiled down to was: I FAILED. I cracked under the pressure. School was not for me, I learned that in the second semester and I hated myself for not knowing sooner. My family kept goading me on, saying early on that I’d fail. This, the whole moving back fiasco, was almost predestined. Pat, Darius’s dad, drove up and picked me up. The last moments I had with Travis was a continuous heart breaking event. I was breaking his heart. I made a vow to myself that I would never go back to school. The memory of my personal failure was the cross I’d have to bear. And I would never forgive myself for them.

Chance stuck around the whole night, even though I could hear the incessant ringing of his cellphone. When prodded, he shushed me and said, “This is about you tonight.” And continued to rock me gently.

This was a peculiar aspect of our friendship. Chance was never afraid of showing someone how much he cared. His family was very touchy-feely when it came to emoting, and he didn’t care about coming off as ‘gay.’ He was secure enough in his sexuality that cuddling with another male didn’t threaten who he was. And god knows I was desperate for his touch. I cried through most of the night. The other half of my heart, Chance, was in physical contact with me, hugged, rocked and shushed me when any of those three actions were needed. Afterwards I felt dead inside, though, oddly better.

We talked about what happened after the crying was done. Chance listened, as he was always a great listener, and didn’t give that annoying ‘You should have—“ or “Well, I would have done this—“ comments that I knew my family would be saying the next time I’d see them. Chance was never very opinionated, in fact, at times I always feared he’d lose his sense of self to those with bigger egos than him. Oddly enough, and as time went by, he seemed to maintain his sense of self, thank god, because if he ever did, I’d go postal. Tiffany was probably the biggest ‘strong arm’ ego of his relationships; I was almost always on pins and needles.

The next day, I woke up with Chance’s arms around me. We had fallen asleep spooning. Immediate memories of both Travis and the events of last night flashed through my mind. I was terrified once more. Chance must have detected my awakening; his arms tightened to let me know he was there. I turned around and saw his eyes squinting open and then his beaming smile greet me. If only we could do this more often, I thought.

“Good morning,” he said arching his back while on his side. Chance’s torso was long, almost catlike, I could see his abdominal muscles stretch as he yawned.

“Mm,” I replied, smiling weakly. Chances eyes seemed so dreamy, very bedroom-eyed, and they peered into mine. I felt safe, and I felt wanted.

“How’d you sleep?” he asked.

“Pretty good, I don’t remember dozing off, or really dreaming of anything. I guess that’s good considering the state I’m in,” I replied numbly. Chance grimaced slightly, but then nodded. “Thank you, Chance, for staying with me, I’m not sure what I would have done if you hadn’t.”

“Of course! What else are best friends for?” he said, his voice booming once more. We hugged, his hands on my back, rubbing it gently. “So…where do we go from here?”

I didn’t know what he meant by those words. Hell, I was still ‘lost’ in every sense of the word. I didn’t know how to tell my friends that I had failed, or my family for that matter. I know for the latter, they wouldn’t be all that surprised. My friends would be disappointed in a sense, but what could I do?

The next couple months were a flurry of events. I had situated back at home with the family, after an earful of unwanted comments and opinions. My friends weren’t as disappointed as I had imagined, they were glad to have me back. I found myself hanging out with a new member of the circle of friends, Gregory, a friend of Drew’s from college. I had met him once before, a few years back during a game but aside from meeting a mysterious person from Drew’s past, I quickly put him out of my mind. Now, I saw him every Saturday and Sunday at the games. And soon I would become smitten.

Chance and I hung out a lot during the week. I was job hunting in the area and he joined me for coffee or a quick bite to eat here and there. We caught up on what was going on in our lives, which for two people who saw each other 3-4 times a week, seemed sort of pointless. I never questioned that though, we were best friends after all. Even though he wasn’t a gamer, I regaled him on all things geeky, and he would fill me in on how classes were for the week and generally kept all comments on Tiffany to a minimum. They had been dating for almost 3 years and I kept waiting for Chance to tell me he was getting engaged. Shudder to think.

During the early hints of spring, Drew had a get together at his father’s house. He invited all of his friends from his past and present and we used this time to split into smaller groups of friends to catch up. It only took a few minutes to locate him, and I found him by the food with Tiffany. She was engrossed in conversation with some guy I never saw before. I got a strange sense of dread coming from him though, an immediate dislike for him, and at the time I didn’t know why. I sort of chalked it up to him talking to Tiffany. I had heard her use the name “Jacob” directed at him, so I guess that was his name. When she saw me though, she immediately turned to Chance and clung to him for dear life.

“Oh Eli, how are you?” she asked coyly. She didn’t wait for a response, “I heard you had a nervous breakdown in college. Congrats!”

That bitch.

I opened my mouth to repeat what my brain was telling me but Chance intervened, “Tiffany, play nice.” Tiffany, pleased that she got the first and really last word in went back to talking with the other man. Chance glanced at me with apologetic eyes. Somehow he was able to disengage from his girlfriend and walked up to me with open arms.

“I am so sorry,” he began, “She can be a bit direct in her statements. She doesn’t mean anything by them.” Oh, yes she did. But he seemed so blissfully ignorant that spiting her wouldn’t give me much in the way of vindication.

“It’s okay, Chance. It is good to see you though, how’s everything?” I asked. I saw him 2 days before, but you never know. Things have a way of jumping out—

“I’m proposing to Tiff.”

--at you. My jaw dropped lower than it should have. Chance sensed my surprise (and mild terror).

“Lets go outside,” he said, leading me by the hand to the patio. We found ourselves at the bench where we had our first conversation. “You don’t look happy.”

“Erm, well, you know I’m none too happy hanging out with Tiffany, but I am happy for you,” I replied dumbly. No you’re not, my brain berated, you hate the stupid bitch. Chance is going to get himself hurt. “So how did this happen?”

“Well, not under happier auspices, I’m afraid. We had a fight about our future. Since I’m a rising senior, there’s the prospect of going to grad school at GW. Tiffany mentioned medical school in Texas. We got into a big fight about next year. I’m willing to move to Texas for her but she seems to think I’m making a big mistake.” Chance stopped talking, his eyes gazing at the patio wood flooring. His jaw set uncomfortably and he looked back up at me, “I love her, Eli. I love her so much and I want to make this work.”

“Well,” I said. Shit, my brain screamed. His happiness means more to you than yours. “Congratulations then.” My voice cracked slightly. Chance opened his mouth to say something but his eyes glanced upwards and smiled. At that time I felt a pair of arms wrap around me.

“Heyyy,” Drew said, hugging me tightly. He was slightly drunk and possibly high, but after what happened in Ohio, I wasn’t the least bit fazed. I turned around as best I could in my seat and hugged him back.

“Drew, what’s going on?” I asked. He smiled dreamily and shrugged. He was in the same boat as I. A college dropout now working in the real world. But at least he had a job doing what he liked.

“Not a whole lot. Chance, my man, how are you?” he said, one arm around me, the other leaned over to shake Chance’s. They knew each other from college, Chance and Drew shared a psychology class together.

“Not a whole lot, Drew, Eli and I are catching up on some stuff,” Chance said, as his eyes stared into mine, searching for answers and silently asking for forgiveness.

“Good!” Drew exclaimed. I could smell alcohol on his breath. “Well, a group of us are going to play a game of Truth or Dare if you guys want in.” I grimaced sourly. Nothing like embarrassing myself around people I grew up with. Before I could refuse Chance beamed and shouted out, “Sure!” I agreed after he did. Drew led us downstairs where there was a small gathering of 4 guys and girls. Tiffany as there, as was the mysterious stranger sitting beside her. Chance took a seat next to her but I opted to sit across from him in the circle of people.

“Who wants to go first?” I heard a friend, Lionel, say. He had been hitting the pot a bit too hard that night as he reeked of marijuana. Drew led us off, firing a question at a girl I knew from highschool, Jennifer. And so the game was in full speed. I managed to avoid being picked for almost a solid hour. People already knew me too well to ask any question of me so I seemed like a weak target. Finally someone launched at a question at Tiffany who gave a short, brisk answer. Then her eyes met mine with the strangest twinge of malice in them.

“Eli, truth or dare?” she intoned. I gulped audibly, then slunk back into my seat cushion uncomfortably.

“Truth?” I asked, meekly. She had been grinning evilly the entire time I mulled over the options.

“What’s it like having sex with a guy?” BOOM. The bomb had dropped. My eyes bulged out as she asked the question, her pearly white teeth glistened behind her dark red lips.

“Did I say truth? I meant dare,” I replied dumbly. Sex? Me? Having sex? Not done yet. And knowing my luck, never going to happen. Tiffany sat back, studying the apprehension on my face. She was letting me stew in my misery.

“I dare you to kiss Chance for…oh 30 seconds,” she said. Whoa, where did that come from? I thought, casting a quick glance at Chance who was smiling at me. “French kiss, not a series of weak pecks you give your granny.”

Chance crawled up to me, smiling dopily. I wasn’t sure if I was up for kissing someone I loved ‘that way’ on a mere dare. To make things even worse was that 8 people were staring at us.

I leaned in and whispered in Chance’s ear, “You don’t have to go along with this.” Chance shrugged nonchalantly.

“Lets really give them a show,” he said, placing a hand on my neck, and pulling me into his lips. His lips were smooth, soft, inviting. My eyes were closed, as that was par for the course for romantic kisses and soon I lost all inhibitions. He was one helluva kisser. Time seemed to slow down to make this kiss last all the longer. My heart was pounding at the sensations, my eyes clamped shut like in romance movies. Chance, too, was really getting into it, his lips mashed against mine, his tongue danced with mine, everything seemed harmonious.

“Aaaand time.” Tiffany’s words disrupted what happened might have been the happiest moment in my life. Chance stopped, disengaged and peered curiously into my eyes, which I’m sure was filled with disillusionment and terror and probably shame. He leaned over one more time, this time for a quick peck on the lips and hugged me to him tightly.

“First kiss with a guy, I’m glad it was with you,” he said in a whisper. My heart felt like it skipped a few beats then stopped when I saw the look on Tiffany’s face. It was a look of triumph. I had tasted heaven but she held the prize dangling in front of me. Her cruel lips formed the words, “Game and match,” and even though the words were silent, it pounded in my head.

And I ran. The fight or flight response screamed, “GET OUT OF THERE,” in my mind, and I got up and ran. I was never great at dealing with my problems, generally opting to run as far and as fast when problems came up in life. This was one of those moments. I ran for a good 10 minutes, unable to form a coherent thought. Run, keep running, was the only thing I could muster.

After running I collapsed to the ground. Only then did I realize that I ran a good half mile, to a park near Drew’s house. The park was void of people, and I sort of relished the fact that I was alone. Alone and miserable. There was a flash of Chance stuck in my head the moment I opted to flee. He looked surprised and sort of hurt as I disengaged from his arms.

Or perhaps I was making that part up. Chance could never be gay and we could never be in a relationship. I kept repeating those words in my head as I pulled myself into a sitting position, hugging my legs tightly to my chest. Loving Chance this much hurt. Tears began welling up and I broke down sobbing, as quietly as possible as not to cause a scene. I had broken down by a small manmade brook that divided the park from a row of houses. There really wasn’t a moment in my younger years when I hadn’t spent a good chunk of the day wallowing in self-doubt and pity.

When I felt the sobbing subside, I looked up, my eyes stung a little from the tears I cried. The moonlight lit everything in an eerie way, everything looked visible but deadened; kind of how I saw things right then and there. I pulled myself to my feet, casually looking down at my watch and saw that 2 hours had passed, swiftly approaching midnight. Shit, Chance must be worried sick, I thought, then quickly put it out of my mind; that was an impossibility. That’s when I heard strange sounds from a tree up ahead a few yards.

Shit! I thought once more, tonight was not my night. The sounds while muffled were definitely sounds of sex. Someone was getting lucky right now. I was jealous. I could see movement from behind a tree, a man was pressing a woman against the trunk of the tree, pounding, forcing sounds out of her with each assault. I cautiously made my way to Drew’s house, circumnavigating around the couple in lust. My foot landed on a small pile of twigs making an audible snap, enough for the male to stop momentarily and stare in my direction. I was out in the open, with no covering; I was caught. Another embarrassing moment for me. His eyes flew open, serious, almost glowing in the moonlight. It was Jacob. The pause in sexual throes was so slight, but I knew he had heard me and at that moment, we were staring at one another. His face, cold and beautiful was frozen in this sadistic grin, triumphant in his prize. We stared at one another for a solid minute, it was if his eyes had cast a dangerous spell over me preventing movement. Then, casually, as if to lay a line of kisses on the woman’s neck, he whispered into her ear. Her moans stopped and she struggled immediately, displeased by his words. Then her neck craned uncomfortably and I saw her. Tiffany. SHIT.

My eyes widened, jaw dropped lower than I thought possible, and Jacob’s spell shattered; I found strength and bolted for the house. Shit! SHIT SHIT SHIT! I didn’t dare turn around me, I felt Jacob’s cold eyes upon my back as I ran. The lights from Andy’s house gave me a second wind and a brief moment of hope.

Chance was sitting on the front doorsteps. He looked miserable all alone and when he heard my footsteps, his eyes light up instantly. He looked as miserable as I felt; at least we shared that in common. Should I warn him about Tiff? Would he believe me? Would our friendship die in mistrust? In that moment that our eyes locked, his lips open as if he wanted to say something, my eyes red and swollen from crying; my decision was made.

“Eli, God, you had me so worried!” he exclaimed, pulling me into his arms. Chance’s hugs were magical, they made me so wanted, when all I could think of was how I didn’t belong. I felt needed and loved. He was draining all of my worries out from me with each squeeze. “I was about to leave and search for you—“ Ah, that was sweet of him, “—but Tiff and her friend Jacob or Jake of whatever his name is offered to instead.”

Again there was that moment of doubt. I pulled away from his arms. “Right, right,” I said, stalling, unsure what to say or do. The very fresh memories of Jacob and Tiff going at it flashed across my vision. “Yeah, I, uh, saw them a ways back, but you know how Tiff and I are, I didn’t know she was looking for me and I, I, uh, just headed back. It looked like they, erm, were deep in conversation anyway. I didn’t want to, you know, interrupt.” My eyes had disengaged halfway through that pathetic lie. I was never a good poker player. Chance’s eyes narrowed but immediately lit up.

“Tiff!” he yelled out and waved. I turned around and there they were, Tiffany looked a bit disheveled and when we made eye contact, if but for a split second, the usual look of contempt had vanished and replaced with irreplaceable fear. Chance embraced her, but she pushed him away, then glanced at me, knowing him and I had exchanged words; she just didn’t know what set of words. They walked into the house and upstairs, probably to make out. Did I just let her go scot free? I winced visibly. Jacob stood beside me, both of us had our eyes on the pair ascending the steps.

“You didn’t tell him, did you?” he said smugly. I didn’t turn my head to look at him, instead shook my head. He snorted and I could sense the dripping with disdain and annoyance. “She was right about you.”

“What about?” I asked, knowing full well that I was walking into a trap. I turned my head slightly to see him staring into my eyes. His eyes looked like it glowed an eerie blue in the darkness, his perfect teeth cruelly formed in a smile.

“You do love him,” he said casually, shoving his hands into his pants pockets. I could still smell the smells of sex on him as if he was wearing it like a badge of honor. I hated him. “It’s a shame she doesn’t know you didn’t tell him. This will be interesting.”

“…and not in a good way,” I replied. It didn’t take long for the two to exchange words; I saw Tiffany charging down the stairs, that look of contempt was back as she pushed me aside and grabbed Jacob by the arm.

“We’re going. NOW,” she intoned. And there they went, walking back into the darkness whence they came. I stood there dumbfounded. What just happened?! I thought, turning my head back to the house. Chance… This night was filled with undue drama, I quickly climbed the stairs a bit worried.

“Chance?” I called out. My voice cracked from my nerves on edge. I turned a corner and pushed in the door to the master bedroom. There he was, sitting on the bed, his hair draped haphazardly over his eyes. “Oh my god, Chance.”

“She dumped me. She dumped me, Eli,” he said, looking up, his eyes red with tears. The normal roles we shared seemed reversed, I wrapped my arms around him and allowed him to cry it out. I had never known Chance to cry, I’ll admit, I always saw him as my personal superman, a man without weakness. “I was gonna marry her.”

“Shh,” I said, stroking his head gently. “It’ll be okay.”