Bloodlines - 22. Chapter 22

October 16, 1998

“Wake up,” Brad said, shaking me as the Falcon descended into Casper, Wyoming. “We don't have much time, so make sure you're presentable.”

I eyed JP and Brad guiltily. The lack of time was my fault. I had a quiz that morning in my economics class, and since that was my major, I was working my ass off to get a good grade. The professor had made it clear that if I missed the quiz, I'd lose the grade, so I'd gone in and taken it, wearing a suit no less, and then rushed to the airport to catch the plane. “I'm sorry. I didn't want to get a zero on that quiz.”

JP smiled at me. “Don't worry about it. We have time.” His calm words mellowed Brad. We landed in Casper and there was a car waiting. And not only that, Stef was there too. He gave us all hugs.

“This has been horrible,” Stef said dramatically. “But I met Matthew's parents and found out why he was such a special young man. I told them about you, and they want to meet you,” he said to me.

“Alright,” I said nervously. Oh well, I knew the drill, and I knew the social mores.

“You must all prepare yourselves for the protesters,” Stef said earnestly. “Especially those of you who are more hot-headed.” He looked at Brad and me. Brad just rolled his eyes.

“Protesters?” I asked. Who would protest a funeral?

“The ‘Reverend’ Fred Phelps and his moronic followers,” Stef spat out. “They have been picketing all day. Their signs will make your blood boil.” I'd never seen Stef quite so angry before. We drove on in silence to St. Mark's Church and as soon as we turned the corner, we saw them. “They passed an ordinance quickly to keep them fifty feet away from the church from one hour before through two hours after the funeral,” Stef said sadly. “Otherwise I fear they'd have been parading around in front of the altar.”

We drove past them in shock. There they were, white-trash-looking people carrying signs. One read ‘God hates fags’, and another said ‘Matt is in hell’. I felt the rage boiling inside and felt Brad's hand on my shoulder. How could someone say that? How could they say Matt was in hell?

“There is a price for free speech,” Brad said. “This is it.” I shrugged it off, deciding that since I didn't believe in hell, it was a meaningless statement, and since I didn't believe in God, I didn't care if he hated fags or not.

After that, everything was a blur. There was a nice sermon but I didn't hear it. Stef had a paper in his hand, practically wringing it, so I gently removed it from his hand. It was a description of how Matthew had died:

Matthew Shepard was robbed, pistol whipped, tortured, tied to a fence in a remote, rural area, and left to die. Still tied to the fence, Shepard was discovered 18 hours later by Aaron Kreifels, who at first thought that Shepard was a scarecrow. At the time of discovery, Shepard was still alive, but in a coma.
Shepard suffered a fracture from the back of his head to the front of his right ear. He had severe brain stem damage, which affected his body's ability to regulate heart rate, body temperature and other vital signs. There were also about a dozen small lacerations around his head, face and neck. His injuries were deemed too severe for doctors to operate. Shepard never regained consciousness and remained on full life support. As he lay in intensive care, candlelight vigils were held by the people of Laramie.
He was pronounced dead at 12:53 A.M. on October 12, 1998, at Poudre Valley Hospital in Fort Collins.

I felt the tears pouring down my face, fueled by sadness and rage. Who would do such a thing? And all because he was gay. Was anyone safe? I tried not to visualize Matt's handsome face as a pistol smashed across it, but I couldn't. I felt myself losing control, felt the anguish seize me until a hand on my shoulder steadied me. It was Brad. Brad sat close to me, close enough so I could feel the strength emanating from him. I saw JP trying to comfort an inconsolable Stef, and it dawned on me that Brad's sole purpose in being here was to help me through this. I reached down and grabbed his hand, trying to show him how much I appreciated that.

After that, I just looked at the pictures of Matthew, remembering him and how happy he was, how much I'd enjoyed our brief time together. If only he'd been able to come to California and at least visit. If only we'd had more time with him.

Then it was over, and everyone began to file out. The governor was there, along with other people, celebrities and the like. I saw Bud Collins and he nodded to us. “I'm surprised he's here,” I told Brad. “Matthew cost him and his friends a bunch of money.”

“Matthew was a relative of his, and besides, in the end he probably saved them money. If we'd have ended up with that original deal, our lawyers would have tied them up forever. Matthew actually ended up doing some work for them,” Stef said proudly.

Stef led us through the throng of people and even pushed past the governor to get to the Shepards. He hugged them; clearly he'd spent some time and gotten to know them. “This is my grandson, Matthew.”

“I'm so sorry,” was all I could say. I couldn't stop the tears, I just couldn't. Matthew's mother looked at me with a degree of understanding that calmed me, as if to remind me that my pain was but a fraction of hers, but she still could relate.

“Matthew told us all about you, and how much he enjoyed meeting you. I think, Matt, that you brought a lot of happiness to him even in that short period of time,” she said strongly. I nodded then moved off, unable to really say anything, unable to let myself feel anything.

We got outside and there were the protesters, closing in on the police blockade, chanting what their signs already said. “Matt is in hell, Matt is in hell!” The rage burning in me was overwhelming. I wanted to go over there and beat Reverend Phelps into a pulp, but that would only feed their machine. They'd sue me, probably win, and have even more money for their evil deeds. I noticed Brad was there, next to me, to stop me from doing anything really idiotic. But I couldn't just leave them there and do nothing. I felt powerless, impotent. I had to do something. An idea sparked in my brain.

“Stef, can you help me with something?” I asked.

“But of course,” he said. I took his hand and led him over to where the protesters were, just on the other side of the police cordon. “They are scum,” Stef said, sneering at them.

“They are. Let's freak them out,” I said. I pulled Stefan in and planted a lip lock on him. I started kissing him sideways so they could clearly see us. A roar of indignation roared up, and I knew that Stef was smiling even as he kissed me back. I turned him so he was facing away from the crowd and reached down and massaged his ass, pulling him to me. They went nuts then, the bigots, screaming and yelling at us. I was so into pissing them off I didn't really even take the time to enjoy Stef. I finally broke away from him, flipped the protesters off, and led Stef back to our car.

“That was probably a pretty good way to piss them off,” Brad said, smiling.

“I figured that my first choice, beating the shit out of them, probably wouldn't have gone over too well,” I joked.

“I think Matthew would have been proud of you,” Stef said. We got to the Falcon and headed back to Palo Alto, leaving the body of Matthew Shepard behind, but keeping his memory with us.

I'd kind of planned to take the weekend to deal with this, and I'd begged off our games this weekend. We played tonight and Saturday at UCLA, and all the guys had left on the team bus early this morning. But I needed a release, and hockey had always provided me with an outlet. I figured that even if I couldn't make tonight's game, if I went to LA, I could make the one on Saturday. “We've got a game tomorrow night in LA. Can I hitch a ride home with you?” I asked Brad.

“Sure. Robbie will be thrilled to see you. You want to leave right away?”

“I need to get my gear,” I told him. “You can wait here, go up to Escorial, or come with me. Your call.”

“I'll go with you,” he said. We landed and Rafael took us back to Stanford. “You want to see my lovely abode?” I joked. I led him into Lag and showed him around my world, the room and the halls.

“This brings back memories,” he said fondly.

“Yeah, but it's been like decades since you were in college,” I joked. He pushed me into a wall playfully. I changed clothes, packed a bag, and then we hopped into the GMC and headed back to the airport.

“JP told me about Brian and Cody,” Brad said. “It makes it kind of tough to be nice to him.”

“Dude, don't go there,” I said. “It's my battle to fight, and I'm done fighting it. Cody is flawed, very flawed, but I still like him. Don't bust him up over this.”

“It's hard to see people I care about get hurt and not do anything,” Brad said.

“He didn't really hurt me, he pissed me off. Plus it's a huge ego blow to have him decide to hang with that bitch instead of me,” I told him. Still, I was a little nervous about seeing Cody.

“I remember when Robbie was with Neil back at Princeton and I kept thinking the same thing. I couldn't figure out what that fucker had that I didn't.”

“A fist,” I joked. Brad cracked up.

“Well, I have one of those and I learned how to use it. Relationships are pretty complicated, and sometimes it's not just a question of who's more satisfying or who's hotter,” he said, sounding like a sage. He paused for a bit while I just drove along. “JP told me that Brian and Cody were talking about trying to work things out,” he said. I forced myself not to let that bother me, at least externally.

“They already failed at that once,” I observed.

“This time Brian's going to move to LA and they're going to be a real couple,” he said. I just stared at him and he rolled his eyes. “Brian already gave Stef his notice. I don't know what he's going to do in LA.”

“When is he moving down there?” I asked.

“I really don't know,” Brad said.

“Are they both going to live in Stef's house?”

“I don't know that either,” Brad said, but he didn't seem too excited about it. Neither one of them was in his good book now, and they'd be living right next door. “It's going to be interesting.”

October 17, 1998

I was exhausted, but I didn't want to go to sleep. I looked at the clock. 1:30am. I had all day to rest, and nothing else to do other than homework. I opted for the easy thing, and started to read “Animal Farm” for English Lit. It was either that, or think about Cody, or think about Matthew. At least we were done with fucking poetry. It was a Friday night in Hollywood, and although I didn't really expect Cody to be home yet, I was hoping.

During the whole drive up from the airport I had told myself that I didn't want to see him, and hoped that he wouldn't be there. Then when I got to Malibu and he wasn't there, I was disappointed. I had no idea what I wanted from him, or even expected from him. I wasn't even sure if I was mad at him. All I knew was that, at my core level, I missed him and I missed our intimacy. So I'd had a great evening hanging out with Brad and Robbie and the kids, even though the whole time I kept listening for the door, to hear if Cody was coming home. This was nuts, crazy. I tossed “Animal Farm” across the room and went to take a shower.

I let the water flow over my body and thought about Cody. I really had no right to be mad at him. We had no commitments, and I certainly had no right to tell him not to fuck Brian. But it wasn't anger that fueled my mood, it was that I'd been planning to have him around that whole weekend, to totally satisfy him and me, and he'd thrown that all away to bone fucking Brian. So much for Brian's fine phrases about them being over, and his attempts to be nice to me. I wondered if this was what JP was talking about when I told him I didn't trust Brian. I shook my head, flinging water all over the bathroom, and then dried off.

I'd just come out of the bathroom and into my bedroom when I heard a door shut in the hallway. I walked over to my door and opened it up a crack, just enough to see the light coming out from underneath Cody's room. I smiled and wrapped my towel around my waist, then snuck over to his door. I listened carefully to see if he was alone. I heard a zipper but no talking, so it must be him, and he must be alone. I opened the door slowly and there he was, lying on his bed, on his back. He had a bottle of lube next to the bed; clearly he was about to start a jack-off session.

“Hey,” he said nervously.

“Hey,” I said, dropping my towel and walking over to him. I saw his eyes feast on my body, creating an obvious reaction in both of us. I walked up to his bed and climbed in, straddling him, rubbing my cock against his as I leaned in to kiss him. He grabbed the lube and slathered it on his cock and then slid me down onto him. He wasn't wearing a condom and I should have made him stop, but my body yearned for him, for his attention so badly that I put that aside and just relished the feel of his big dick as he pushed into me.

“I missed you so much,” he said in his husky voice.

“I missed you too,” I said, in between panting. He rolled me over onto my back, and bent me almost double while he fucked me. His face was even with mine, and he used that to pace himself, slowing down when he was getting too close and leaning in to kiss me, then breaking off the kiss as he sped up. I was totally with him, totally immersed in him, and it was fucking awesome. When he came, he pulled out and shot his load all over my groin, all over my dick, and then used his own cum as lube while he jacked me to an earth-moving orgasm.

“Good thing you brought a towel,” he teased, grabbing my still-damp shower towel.

“I'm like a boy scout. I'm prepared,” I grinned.

“I should have used a condom. I'm sorry about that. I just really wanted to be with you,” he said, playing me. It dawned on me that he could be using this line on lots of guys. Before, I would have trusted him when he said that, but not now. That threatened to bum me out, but I'd been bummed out enough, so I put it aside.

“Next time we will,” I said.

“I'm not sure about a next time,” he said nervously. That really pissed me off.

“You know, I'm all looking forward to being with you, because you're such an awesome lover, and as soon as I am, you can't wait to go find another guy. Am I that bad of a lay?” I was pissed, and my base insecurities were coming through, and that just pissed me off more.

“That's not it. You are, you are...” he mused, looking for the word. “You are exquisite.”

“Exquisite? What am I, the fucking Hope Diamond?” I asked, laughing at such a dorky word.

“You are. I've fucked a lot of guys, and you're in the top ten most fun studs of my world.”

I stared at him, trying not to smile as he stroked my male ego. “You are so full of shit.”

“Nope. It's true,” he said.

“Then why can't we fuck anymore?” I asked.

“Because Brian is moving down here and we're going to try to be a couple,” he said unenthusiastically.

“You don't sound very excited about it,” I observed.

“I am, it's just going to change my whole lifestyle, and I'm kind of worried about that,” he said.

“You don't love him enough to change that much,” I told him. He got pissed at that because I'd hit way too close to home.

“You don't know shit about us,” he said.

“You're right, I don't, but I know you. I know I'm right and you do too. But don't get mad, because I don't really give a shit,” I told him.

“About me? You don't give a shit about me?” he asked, hurt. What was with him and these fucking emotional games?

“If you're going to give up your whole lifestyle for Brian, why would you care whether I gave a shit about you or not?” I threw that taunt at him and felt him tense up.

“I care,” he said, almost too softly.

I didn't want to fight with him, so I softened up. “Well, you big dumbass, I care about you too. And there's gonna be a next time because we're too good together not to fuck,” I said, and smiled right into his face, making him giggle.

“I don't think that's part of the deal I made with Brian,” he said.

“Well, Brian didn't really give a shit about our commitment, so I don't give a shit about your relationship with him. I'm not gonna back off, I'm gonna hit on you as hard as I can,” I told him. “You have to find the strength to say no.”

“You're pretty cocky aren't you?” he teased.

“Yep.” I reached down and stroked his dick, feeling him start to harden in my hand. “You want to start trying to say 'no' right now?”

“Nope,” he said, and we fucked again.

“What the fuck is this?!” I heard a very loud voice, very close to my head. I opened my eyes to find the lights on and Brian standing over us. Cody was lying on top of me, his head nuzzled up against my neck, and his morning hard-on poking my leg. He woke up and looked at me with an expression that told me how much he dreaded this.

“We fucked a bunch of times then fell asleep,” I said calmly. “Can you not be so loud?”

“Can you give us some time,” Cody whispered in my ear.

“Sure babe,” I said, kissing him gently. I extracted myself from his bed and stood in front of Brian, naked and hard. It was funny to watch him try not to appreciate how good I looked. “You know Brian, a smart guy would have just jumped in bed and joined us,” I said with a leer, and then turned to walk away, making sure to squeeze my butt dimples just for him. I closed the door and heard arguing, really loud arguing, and I just cracked up and headed to the shower. Those two had pulled me into their bullshit game and fucked with my psyche and my emotions. It was payback time.

I went back to bed and slept in until noon, luxuriating in the pure laziness of the day. I thought back to what a weird day yesterday had been, from a miserable funeral to awesome sex, and now to a lazy Saturday. My stomach grumbled, giving me a really good reason to get up. I put on shorts and a tight T-shirt, and then went down to score some food.

Robbie was hanging out in the kitchen. It seemed like he was always here. It's a good thing he worked out, otherwise he'd be fat. “How are you doing?” he asked, concerned.

“I'm still a little sad, but I'm doing better,” I said honestly. “If I think about how he died, how they beat the shit out of him, and I think about what a neat guy he was, it hurts like hell. So I try not to think about that. I just try to focus on that night that we had together.”

“Brad said you did really well up there.”

“I don't know about that. I cried like a big pussy most of the time,” I grumbled, then sighed. “I find that sex helps ease the pain.”

“Oh yeah?” Robbie asked, laughing. “Guess that makes sense. Who did you fuck?”

“Cody,” I said. “A lot.”

“I thought he and Brian were trying to work things out?” Robbie asked.

“Well, when I was trying to be with Cody, Brian didn't really give a shit about us, so I don't see why I should worry about them, do you?” I was irritated at myself for the bitterness I'd let creep into my voice. He looked at me, mulling that over. “Cody can always say no. I'm not going to rape him.”

“I can't say that I blame you, playing them at their own game,” he said. “I remember,” he started, and then he stopped. “You know, I keep telling you these stupid stories about what Brad and I went through and I'm probably boring the shit out of you.”

I flashed him my smile, with the charm turned up to 'high'. “Not at all. I like to hear about you guys, and sometimes it's even helpful.”

He rolled his eyes. “I remember that I really hurt Brad by sleeping with this other guy when we were in high school. After that he wouldn't trust me and refused to be monogamous. I remember how much that bothered me, and how I'd flail around, trying to find a way to make myself feel better and make him feel worse. Everything I did backfired on me, and almost cost me a good friend.” He paused, remembering. “One day, I'd had enough. I told Brad that I was done, that we either had to be together, to be an exclusive couple, or nothing. It was really eye-opening for both of us. I asked him what he wanted and he told me that, up until that point, all he'd been trying to do was hurt me. There was no end-game.”

“So you're telling me that I should make sure I know what I want from this whole thing before I work to fuck up their lives?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“What if I just want to hurt them back?”

He laughed. “That may work for a while, but what comes next? Do you really want them to be miserable?”

“Brian, yes. Cody, no,” I said, nodding and smiling.

“Well, this should make things interesting,” he said dubiously. JJ came rolling in, looking irritated.

“What's up, JJ?” I asked. He smiled at me and gave me a hug.

“I'm supposed to go skating but Dad and Stefan are too busy talking,” he groused.

“If I can borrow a car, I'll take you,” I said. “I have to be back here by 4:00 though.” We were playing UCLA at 7:00, so I had to get up to Westwood by 5-ish to catch up with my team.

“OK,” he said cheerfully. Robbie tossed me some keys, keys to Stef's Porsche, which cracked me up. I grabbed my skates, and hit the road, cruising down PCH in one radical ride.

“So how's skating going?” I asked.

“Good,” he said.

“You gonna show me what Tiffany has been teaching you?” I asked.

“If you don't spend my whole lesson hitting on her,” he grumbled. I just laughed and ignored his mood, focusing instead on enjoying the sun and the beautiful warm weather. We got to the rink and found Tiffany waiting for JJ in the lobby. Damn she was hot. It was funny how she pretended not to be happy to see me.

“Well look who's back. They kick you out of Stanford?” She was so fun.

“You wish,” I said, and winked. “I've got a hockey game tonight. You wanna come watch?”

“I'm not sure. I think I have to wash my hair,” she said, cracking me up.

“Let's skate,” JJ said, irritated. I watched them head off to the rink while I paid my own way in. I had planned to do some really heavy skating to loosen up for tonight, but I ended up standing there most of the time, just watching JJ. He was really good. He was already doing jumps, and that thing that figure skaters do where they spin in one place. I was almost surprised when they came skating over to me.

“It's 3:30. JJ says you have to leave so you can meet the other goons,” she said.

“Show up and I'll introduce you,” I said, flirting.

“I can go to the zoo anytime,” she said, and skated away. I just laughed.

“You were really good JJ,” I told him. “I should learn how to do that spinning thing. It would make all the other players dizzy.” He laughed cheerfully as we headed out to the car. There was traffic, of course, but I still made it back at 4:00. I headed up the stairs to put on my rink gear and ran into Cody coming out of his room. I reached out and pulled him into my room forcefully then shut and locked the door.

“You abducting me?” he joked.

“Yeah, and there's only one way out. Through me,” I said in my sluttiest voice.

“Dude, I cannot do this,” he said as I pulled off my clothes. His words said no, but he didn't move. He just watched me undress. I moved up to him, moved into his personal space, and wrapped my arms around him.

“Please? I want you so bad,” I said. My hand reached down to take his hand and moved it to my ass, guiding him to my crack, rubbing his fingers across my hole. That did it. He moaned into my mouth as I kissed him while I pulled his zipper down.

“We have to make this fast,” he said.

“Yeah, I have to be out of here ASAP!” I agreed. He slipped on a condom and bore right into me. It hurt a little at first, but I got used to him quickly. Then he took me on a short wild ride, bringing me off all over my bed. “Thanks,” I said as I kissed him.

“You heading back to Paly soon?” he asked.

“Tonight or tomorrow. Why?”

“It's dangerous having you around,” he said.

“Do you want me to leave?” I teased.

He looked at me, contemplating my question. “No,” he said, then zipped up his pants and went off to find Brian. I laughed at them and their weird relationship. How fun to mess with their lives for a change. I took the Porsche up to Westwood and looked pretty ridiculous with my hockey bag and sticks riding in the passenger seat. It was a pretty short drive, even though there was traffic. Was there always fucking traffic down here?

The coach saw me come in and glared at me. “I thought you weren't going to be here.”

“I didn't think I would be either coach, but I caught a flight down late last night,” I lied. “I didn't know if you'd need me to play or not?”

“You went up to Wyoming for that funeral?” he asked. “You knew that kid?” I felt myself get pissed inside but forced myself to stay in control.

“Yeah. I did.” Don't think of Matthew and don't cry in front of the coach, I told myself.

“Pretty fucked up deal,” he said. “I'm sorry.”

“Thanks,” I said, stunned at his brief display of sensitivity.

“Go get ready. Maybe I'll give you a couple of shifts,” he said.

“Thanks coach!” I said and scampered off to the locker room. All the guys were glad to see me.

“We got our asses kicked last night,” Danfield said. “Couldn't score for nothing.”

“You need me to come save your sorry asses?” I joked.

“Yeah, that's it,” Konrad said, rolling his eyes. I looked at Cole and he smiled shyly and looked down. Still, there was something bothering him.

“What's up big guy?” I asked as we headed to the gym to warm up.

“It's tough being gone,” he said. “I miss her.” He looked at me, begging me not to think he was a pussy.

“You'll see her in about 12 hours,” I said, trying to reassure him.

“What if she gets lonely while I'm gone?” Then I got it. She'd been a real slut when school started and he was worried that she'd turn back into one when he wasn't around.

“Did she promise she wouldn't fuck other guys?” I asked.

“Yeah,” he said.

“Then don't you think you should trust her? She given you any reason not to?”

He looked at me sheepishly. “You're right.”

“Dude, here's the deal as I see it. You work out how it is and stick with it until you don't want to do it anymore, or your partner fucks up. Until then, you gotta give her the benefit of the doubt.” He nodded and left me to wonder if I'd done that with Cody.