Flux - 15. Chapter 15

June 22, 2002

Malibu, CA

Will

From: Willsurfer@yahoo.com
Sent: Friday, June 21, 2002 10:28 PM
To: Tonymo@aol.com
Subject: I’m Listening

Tony,

I shut you down before when you tried to talk to me. You got something to say, I’ll hear you out.

Will

From: Tonymo@aol.com
Sent: Saturday, June 22, 2002 12:28 AM
To: Willsurfer@yahoo.com
Subject: Re: I’m Listening

Will,

It’s really good to hear from you. I went out with some friends tonight (no, Rick wasn’t there), and I’m a little drunk off my ass, so I’m not going to ramble on and fuck things up worse than I already have, and make an even bigger ass out of myself. The main thing I want to say to you is that I’m sorry. I’m really really sorry. I don’t know how to say it so it has more meaning. If I could figure out how to put it in bold, I would, but the fucking mouse won’t work. God damn it. OK. I just threw the mouse across the room and broke it, so now I have to use the track pad. Shit. I hate these damn things. My fingers are too fat for it to work.

Tony

I looked at the message from Tony and laughed. “What?” Zach asked.

“I got a response from Tony,” I said. He frowned. “See.”

He read it and chuckled. “So he has fat fingers?”

I shrugged. “I guess. I never really looked at his hands.” I took Zach’s hand and held it in mine, looking at it carefully.

“Knock it off,” he said, pulling his hand away. I held my hand out, demanding that he put his back in mine. He relented, giving me his hand along with his cute grin.

“You have sexy hands,” I said. “They go with the rest of you.” That just magnified his grin.

“Duh,” he said, cracking me up.

His hands were rough from football, kind of callused, but that made them really masculine. Mine weren’t like that; they were a lot smoother. His fingers were a little shorter than mine, but a lot bigger. I gently stroked his fingers, one at a time, like I was stroking his dick. We were lying in bed naked, and I almost giggled as I watched his cock rise up as I did that. I replaced my fingers with my mouth, sucking on each one of them. “I love your hands,” I said.

He grabbed the back of my head and pulled me in roughly, kissing me in a really aggressive way. I moved over so I was on top of him, with his hard cock rubbing up and down my crack as I writhed against him. He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back, smiling at me as I looked at him, crazed and breathless. “I got some news today.”

“What?” I asked, wondering why the fuck he would start a conversation when I was so ready for him to jam his cock up my ass.

“I got retested. I’m negative. Passed it with flying colors,” he said with a wicked grin.

I smiled and grabbed the lube, then slathered it all over his cock. I guided it to my hole and sat on it, reveling at the familiar feel of him filling me up, but enjoying it even more because we were barebacking. “That’s so fucking good,” I cooed in his ear.

“You like that?” he asked, as he started pushing up into me. He bent his legs and put his feet flat on the bed, and used that leverage to start pounding me. His legs were so strong; he could probably lift a fucking car up with them.

I broke off our kiss and sat straight up and started stroking my cock, smiling as his eyes focused on it, on the head. I knew what he liked: he was really into cum. I thought it was seriously his favorite food. I pushed myself along to give him what he wanted. “I’m gonna shoot my load all over you, and then I’m gonna feed it to you,” I said.

He moaned and pumped harder. “Fuck yeah. I love that.”

“I know,” I said, grinning at him. And then I came. The first shot landed on his face, and he stretched his tongue out to lap it up. I blew the rest of my load all over his chest, even as he slowed his pace to a more loving speed. I smiled. He knew my body as well as I knew his, and he knew that while I liked getting my ass pounded, when I came, I loved it when he got more gentle and caring, with a slow, sensuous, steady rhythm. He kept that up while I finished my orgasm, and for a bit longer to let me catch my breath. “Time for a snack,” I said to him with a sexy leer.

“I’m so hungry,” he said, almost moaning. I lifted my ass up just a bit, his clue that he could really start fucking me again, as I scooped my cum off his body and fed it to him. God, it was erotic, the way he slurped and sucked it off my fingers. “Gonna cum. Gonna cum!” he shouted out, a roar, and then lifted me off the bed as he jammed his dick in me. He was so cute when he came, especially when he was fucking me. He would make these really hard thrusts, followed by some small erratic ones, repeating that until he was done.

When he was finally finished, I squeezed my ass muscles tightly as I pulled off of him, squeezing every drop out of his long tube, and then kept my ass clenched tight, keeping his load inside me. There was a towel next to the bed, so I grabbed it and wiped the lube off my ass, and then I lay on top of him, but to his right side, and gently played with his nipple.

“Do you still love Tony?” he asked me, kind of out of the blue.

“No,” I answered honestly. It was cool that my simple answer was enough for him.

“I’ve never been in love before,” he said.

“Before what?” I asked, raising an eyebrow. He loved me. I knew he did. He knew he did. But I was just teasing him. No way I was going to push him into that admission until he was ready.

“As in ever,” he said, giving me a fake frown.

“I have,” I said. “Or at least I think I have. Sometimes it’s hard to separate love from a crush.”

“How do you know the difference?”

I shrugged. “For me, it’s time. If it lasts for a long time, it’s love. I also think there are different kinds of love.”

“You mean like how you love friends, or your family, versus someone you fuck?” he asked, making me chuckle.

“Yeah, but I think it’s also different from person to person. I think you can love someone, but it seems that there are some people who just belong together. They’re soul mates. That’s a different kind of love.”

“Have you ever felt that kind of love before?”

“Before what?” I taunted.

“Asshole,” he said lovingly.

“I’ve seen it. I’ve seen it with Grand and Stef, with Dad and Robbie, and with Wade and Matt.”

“Wade and Matt aren’t together anymore,” he said, as if that meant their love wasn’t that kind of love.

“Do they seem happy to you?” I asked.

“They seem OK,” he said, but even he didn’t believe that. I shook my head.

“I saw this when my dad and Robbie broke up,” I told him. It was amazing that I could talk about this and not completely lose it, not completely freak out about Robbie being gone. “There’s a hole there that they’ll never be able to really fill up.”

“A hole, eh?” he asked, and grabbed my ass, making me giggle. “Wade and Matt moved to different cities. Shouldn’t you be willing to give up everything for that person?”

I thought about that. “I think it’s not about sacrificing for someone, it’s about trade-offs.”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t think it can be all one-sided. I don’t think one person should always have to make the sacrifices,” I told him. I realized that we weren’t talking about Wade and Matt, but that we were actually talking about us, in a really backhanded kind of way. And I wanted him to know that while I’d do a lot to deal with his football career, he had to toss me a bone here and there.

“I guess I can see that,” he said, in a grudging kind of way. I kissed his nipple, and then sucked on it. “You’re horny tonight.”

“You’re not?” I asked, as I reached down and stroked his cock. I had him hard in no time at all.

“Maybe,” he said, giving me his impish grin.

“I want you to be my nasty boy,” I said, whispering in his ear. He loved it when I talked to him like that, almost like I used to talk to Tony.

“What do you want me to do?” he asked, his deep voice sounding so husky, and the lust dripping off his words.

“You shot your load in my ass, and I’ve kept it there. I’m squeezing my ass tight, but even then I can feel it leaking out,” I said. He moaned. “I want you to suck it out of me, use your tongue to get every last drop.”

He let out a loud moan and all but spun me around, so my ass was over his face. I felt his tongue rimming me, then probing me, and I unclenched my muscles. I felt his load leaking out, even as his tongue lapped it up. God, that felt good. His cock was throbbing in front of me, so I started sucking it slowly, really slowly, so there was no way I’d make him cum. I let him work me for a long time, and then I grabbed the lube and rolled him over onto his stomach. “Oh yeah,” he said, as my fingers probed his ass.

“I’m gonna fuck you now,” I said. “I’m gonna cram my big dick up your ass.”

“Fuck me, Will,” he said, almost begging me.

I laid my body on his, my chest on his back, and gently pushed my dick into him. “You feel so good,” I said, as I gently fucked him. I went slowly, really slowly: I could feel every inch, every move, and so could he. I kept it up until he finally couldn’t stand it anymore.

I pulled out and he rolled over and grabbed his ankles. “I want you back,” he said. I pushed my dick back into his willing hole and really started to fuck him hard. He lay there, his mouth open, his eyes bulging, as I pounded his ass. He put his hands behind his head, as if to surrender all control to me, and then started to buck his hips with me, really working with me. His ass was amazing, like this throbbing thing that wrapped tightly around my dick, pulsing in the most erotic way. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum!”

Every once in a while I could make him do this, and it was so hot: I could make him cum without touching his dick. That’s what I was about to do to him now. He shouted, bellowed, and then cum started shooting out of his cock. I knew his body so well, and as soon as he started shooting, I reached down and started stroking him, nursing his orgasm out of him. But even as I was finishing off his orgasm, I felt my own start. The stimulation of feeling his ass contract as he shot his load, along with the visual of him lying there covered in his own cum, just set me free. “I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna cum,” I said urgently, as I felt my balls rise. “Can I shoot in your ass?”

“Fuck yeah, Will. Shoot that load in my ass,” he growled, and I did. I came for fucking ever, then when I was done, I was so spent I collapsed on top of him, slowly letting my dick pop out of his ass.

“Let’s rinse off,” I said. He grinned, since his load was all over both of us. We got on the elevator and went down to my bathroom and took a quick shower, then went back up to the bed and changed the sheets. He climbed into bed and nodded his head at me to tell me to join him, in what was such a sexy gesture. I lay next to him on my side, and gently stroked his chest, outlining his pecs with my fingers. I sensed something was bothering him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he lied.

“What?” I demanded more forcefully.

“I feel like a pig.”

“Why?”

“You know why,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows.

“You mean because cum is your favorite food,” I teased.

“You don’t think it’s gross?”

I looked at him intently, so he could see the sincerity in my eyes. “I think it’s hot.”

He grinned. “You do?”

“Fuck yeah. I told you you’re my nasty boy,” I said. He chuckled. “It’s a really cool thing.”

“Why is it so cool?” he asked, not believing me.

“Think of all the dudes who aren’t into something kinky. They just fuck. That’s it. What makes it special? What really gets them going? That sounds boring as hell. Not you. It’s not like you want to do it all the time, but when you do, you just lose it. Shit, I’m still tingling.”

He smiled at me, then leaned in and gave me a really nice kiss. When he backed away, I heard the words from him I never thought I’d hear: “I love you.” I stared at him, stunned. I honestly didn’t think he’d ever admit it, that he’d ever tell me. He got a worried look on his face, even while a huge smile was spreading across mine. He tried to look away, but I leaned up on my arm and put my hand on his face to move it back, forcing him to look at me.

“Say it again,” I ordered.

He swallowed hard, and I wondered if he’d try to play it off. “I love you,” he said.

“I know,” I told him. “I love you too.”

“Duh,” he said, smiling. “How could you not?”

“I couldn’t not,” I said, and my dorky word choice made him laugh.

“What do you mean, that you knew?” he asked, challenging me.

“I know you. I told you that when we first hooked up. I can read you pretty damn good,” I said.

“Alright, if you’re so smart, when did I fall in love with you?”

I thought about that. I almost really fucked up and said “when I bought you the Durango,” but through some miracle, I stopped those idiotic words from flying out of my mouth “I don’t know. I think it was gradual, and something I just realized.”

“Wrong,” he said, making his voice sound like a game show buzzer.

“Alright, when?” I asked, chuckling

“The second time you came out to see me play football.”

“That was in November, and you’re just telling me now?” I asked, pretending to be a little annoyed.

“I wanted to make sure. I didn’t want to tell you and have it be an infatuation,” he said. He stroked my hair lovingly, a caring gesture I would never have guessed I’d have gotten from him when we first hooked up. “I never had someone who liked me for who I am.”

“I love the dude that you are,” I said.

“You just like me because I’m hot,” he joked, only I did know him, and he was tossing that out there to hide his insecurities.

“I do like that you’re hot,” I said, grinning. “But you’re so much more than that.”

“That’s good to know,” he said, but he needed more.

“I like that you’re not perfect. You can be a real dick and a pretty uncaring asshole at times,” I said. I watched him get pissed off, waiting for him to boil a bit. “But you’re never that way to me. You treat me with respect, and you watch out for me. You pay attention to what I like, and you do it. That’s how I know you love me.”

“I don’t let many people in,” he admitted.

“That makes it really special, that I’m one of the people that you let see the real you.”

“Will,” he said, staring at me intently. “You’re the only person I let in.” I stared back at him, getting how into me he really was. He loved me as much as I loved him.

“I love being in you,” I whispered in his ear, in my husky voice. He snaughed. “You know, Robbie had all kinds of issues, and he took Dad on a pretty wild ride. He’d have these kinks that were like an itch he had to scratch.”

“What kind of kinks?” he asked. He was curious about that, and about why I’d brought this up.

“He was into fisting, and let some douchebag in college use that to rule him.”

“How’s that work?”

“If I was going to fist you, I’d make my hand into a shape like this,” I said, mimicking the pose I’d seen my dad do. “Then I’d work my hand up your ass. When it was up there, I’d use it to stimulate your prostate and get you off.”

“Dude, how do you know about this?” he asked me, all freaked out.

I shrugged. “When I was younger, I snuck in and watched one of the videos of them doing it.”

“Dude, you watched your dad doing that to Robbie?” he asked, kind of grossed out. I guess if it was his dad, it would be pretty gross, but not my dad. My dad was really attractive, and so was Robbie.

“Fuck yeah. It was a little weird, but hot as hell. Don’t you think my dad’s hot?”

“I’d do him,” he said casually, and while that should have freaked me out what with all the incestuous shit we’d been through, it was strangely funny. “It seems like it would hurt.”

“You take my dick. It’s not that much bigger,” I joked.

“You want to try it?” he asked. I could tell that it really freaked him out, but at the same time, he was kind of curious.

I shrugged. “Dude, if you wanted to try it, I’d do it,” I told him. “I’d probably try just about anything you wanted to do.”

“Really?” he asked, grinning.

“Sure,” I said.

“I’ll have to think up some shit,” he joked.

“You do that.”

“So why’d you bring up fisting? You think I’m all twisted up like that?” he asked, his whole mood changing as he’d interpreted my comments in that way.

“No,” I said, looking at him like he was an idiot. “On top of the fisting thing, Robbie got really restless, and had to go out and find different guys to fuck. It was like he needed new meat.”

“And your dad couldn’t handle that?”

“No, I don’t think he could do an open relationship,” I said sagely. “Robbie could never really be happy with just my dad. My dad couldn’t handle that. For Robbie, it was about something different, just for fun. For my dad, it made him feel all inadequate, like he wasn’t good enough.”

“I can see that,” he said, putting himself in my dad’s shoes.

“So Robbie had these kinks, and it was like they dominated him, and caused him to make bad decisions,” I said.

“Are you pissed at him about that?”

I shook my head. “No, but watching him and Dad, sometimes it got a little scary. It was like they pushed the envelope pretty far, but it fucked them up. I think I learned a lot from their fuck-ups.”

“You trying to say I’m fucked up like that?” he asked, getting defensive.

I laughed, in a loving way. “No, what I’m saying is that I don’t think you’re like that at all, and that’s one of the coolest things about you.”

That brought out his magnetic grin. “I’m not perfect.”

“I know,” I said. “But when you get off by sucking cum out of my ass, instead of me thinking it’s weird, I think it’s hot, because I know it’s just you having fun, not because it’s some obsession.”

He gave me a really loving kiss. “I really only have one obsession,” he said.

“Football,” I said, and managed to not sound bitter when I said it. He nodded. “I need to talk about that.”

“What?” he asked, getting nervous.

“I knew, from the minute I first let myself fall in love with you, that I’d always be at least second to football in your life.”

“After football, you are the most important thing to me,” he said, and he said it with such conviction, it actually made me tear up a bit.

“I’m OK with that. It’s part of the deal,” I said. “But you have to find room for me. This deal with you breaking up with me really fucked me up. I don’t have to be number one, but I have to rank high enough that you keep me in your life in a big way.”

“Will, come on. I freaked out, and made a mistake. I told you I was sorry. I’ll even get down on my knees right now if you want me to,” he said.

“What if Barry comes over tomorrow, sees how we look at each other, and tells you that you have to dump me?” I asked.

“Let’s not create problems,” he said, frustrated.

“I’m not creating problems, I’m thinking of contingencies,” I said, sounding a lot like Grand.

“You are so fucking smart, it just blows me away. You’ll help me figure a way around it,” he said. I grinned, enjoying the ego stroke, but I wasn’t going to let him get away with that. He understood that perfectly. “Barry can’t tell me to dump you. Barry can suggest it. If he does, I’ll tell him I’m not going to.”

I sighed. “I’m not insecure about people you hook up with when I’m not around, but I’m a little insecure about this. Thanks for making it better.”

“You know what makes me insecure?”

“What?” I asked, expecting him to talk about Tony, or some other guy he thought I was with.

“I worry that with all this bullshit we’re gonna have to deal with for football, that you’ll just get sick of it, say fuck it, and blow me off,” he told me.

I just stared at him, stunned at how open he was being with me. He’d totally lowered all of his shields. “Dude, as long as you give me part of you, and keep me in your life, we’ll be fine.”

“Sometimes it’s really tempting to just throw it all away and to say ‘fuck football’.” He paused, and I didn’t know why, until he spoke the next sentence. “It would be so awesome to be able to tell the world I’m gay, and to just be with you.”

I leaned up and stared at him, shocked shitless. That was the first time he’d ever admitted that he was gay. And he’d actually fantasized about giving football up for me? That was amazing. But I had to handle this carefully. That was part of him exposing so much of himself. “Dude, I don’t want you to give up football. It makes you happy. And you don’t have to tell the whole world you’re gay, as long as you’re gay with me.”

He just smiled at me, and put his hand on my face. His callused hands were so rough on my skin, even as he moved them so gently. He guided my mouth to his, and then he made love to me. He’d done that before, but this time it was the real deal.

The next morning, Zach woke up early and went for a run on the beach, so I took that opportunity to respond to Tony’s e-mail.

From: Willsurfer@yahoo.com
Sent: Saturday, June 22, 2002 8:28 AM
To: Tonymo@aol.com
Subject: Re: I’m Listening

Dude,

I am so sorry to hear about your mouse. Make sure to give it a decent burial.

Here’s where I’m at. You and I have had all these problems because we tried to be more than just friends. I think if we were just friends, we wouldn’t have all these other bullshit problems. Then it wouldn’t matter to me who you fucked, even if I was hanging with you and you bailed on me to plow some dude. So I’ll accept your apology, but that’s what I can offer you: friendship. Only friendship.

You’re going to get an invite to our Bastille Day Party. Maybe you can come out and see me, and show me that we’re cool. That’s my way of blackmailing you into showing up.

Will

I printed off the three e-mails we’d exchanged and went down for breakfast, hoping I’d run into Matt. He wasn’t there, but Rosa was. She gave me a big hug. She and I were really tight when I’d lived here, so it was cool to come down and spend some time with her.

I sat there, eating, but Matt still hadn’t shown up. Zach came back from his run and woofed down some more food. I was just about to go up and shower with him, to get ready for Barry, when Matt finally staggered into the room, looking pretty tired.

“Dude, you look like shit,” I teased.

“Don’t you ever sleep in?” he grumbled.

I handed him the paper. “I did my part. Your turn.”

He scanned the e-mails, and chuckled when he read Tony’s. Then he nodded his head and smiled. “You did good.”

June 22, 2002

Van Nuys, CA

Brad

“Thanks,” I said to the pilots as I walked out of the plane and descended the stairs. They hadn’t really done anything but their jobs, but they did them pleasantly, so I figured I’d show some gratitude. We’d gotten up really fucking early to fly back here in time for the 10am meeting with Zach’s advisor, but I was still running late. “I need to get to Malibu as quickly as possible,” I said to the driver as I got into the limo.

“Of course, Mr. Schluter,” he said as he closed the door. He drove just slightly less crazy than a madman, but it didn’t bother me. I just chuckled, appreciating that he was trying to do what I asked.

I kicked back, thinking about my trip to Connecticut. I’d basically gone out there to escape from the situation with Matt and Wade, but it had been productive. I’d hooked up with Chris Mendoza a few times, and got pretty close to letting him fuck me, but something was holding me back. It was like there was this nagging voice in my brain, telling me to go slow. Especially with him. It was strange that although he tried to get me to give it up, he didn’t seem disappointed when I didn’t.

The whole thing confused the shit out of me, because in the past, when I’d been single, I’d been a total slut. Only now I’d avoided Scott Slater and Cody, because I just didn’t want to sleep with them, and I’d kept Chris Mendoza distant. In the past, I’d have fucked their brains out. But then again, when I was single, it was because I was fighting with Robbie, so that was the other ingredient. I thought about how he’d fueled my insecurities, and that took me down the typical path, where I got pissed at him for fucking with my mind, then the anger at him was replaced with anger at me for blaming him for all of our problems.

Then there was Wade. That was one of the most special relationships I’d ever had. We complemented each other so well, in bed and out, and our friendship was part of my emotional foundation. What was more, I knew I was important to him too. The secrecy of our relationship had just turbocharged our natural attraction. When I forced myself to accept that it was over, and that my days of fucking Wade had ended, I got pretty fucking depressed. Good thing I was still taking Welbutrin. We still talked every other day or so, but it was kind of empty now, since we both knew we had to keep distance between us. I felt like we were trying to build this entirely different friendship, and we were failing miserably.

I’d been so busy depressing myself; I wasn’t paying attention to where we were, so I was kind of surprised when the limo pulled up in front of our house. There was a new Land Rover in the driveway, so I assumed that must be Zach’s advisor. I looked at my watch, and it was 10:10. I signed off on the invoice, grabbed my bag from the driver, and strode confidently into the house. I froze as soon as I walked into the great room, stopping to take in the scene in front of me.

Zach, Barry Friedman, and Will were sitting around the coffee table. Will and Zach were dressed nicely, even wearing ties, in what was clearly a power gesture. Barry was wearing khakis and a polo shirt.

“Look, I have an obligation to do what I’m hired to do, by the people who hired and paid me,” Barry said.

“Who do you think is paying you?” Will demanded.

“Wally and Clara Hayes,” he said. Zach and Will looked at each other, and Zach shook his head, and seemed to be annoyed with his parents.

“Your bill is paid from my trust,” Zach said.

Barry handed him a piece of paper. “That’s the check I got. Doesn’t say anything about a trust.” I shook my head, assuming that either Wally and Clara had just used their own money to make it easier, or to keep control of Zach.

“You work for me,” Zach said forcefully. “Period.”

“You’re a minor,” Barry said.

“You can’t make me play football, and my parents can’t make me play football,” Zach said. “If they’re in charge, I’m not playing.”

“Then you won’t have a career,” he said.

“Unlikely,” Will said coldly, jumping into the equation. “In a year, Zach won’t be a minor.”

“My contract lasts longer than a year,” Barry said. I watched him with interest. He was just posturing, trying to find something out, but Will and Zach didn’t get that.

“You think it will hold up in court?” Will asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I know it will,” Barry said confidently.

“You have enough money to fight that legal battle?” Will asked, in kind of an arrogant way. “Because I do.”

“I see,” he said. “So you’re backing Zach up on this?”

“I am,” Will said.

“And your family is too?”

“They are,” Will affirmed. I smiled at how confidently he said that, glad that he knew we’d be in his corner.

“What’s the status of your relationship?” he asked them, changing the subject.

“Will is my best friend, and my cousin,” Zach said.

“That’s all?” Barry asked.

“That’s it,” Zach said.

Barry nodded. “Alright, let’s start all over. I’ll tell you the truth, and you can tell me the truth.”

“What are you talking about?” Will demanded.

“My job is to work for Zach, to get him into the best college I can,” he said. “He’s the only one I work for, no matter who pays the check.”

“Why’d you tell me you weren’t?” Zach asked, and seemed pretty annoyed.

“Why’d you tell me you were just friends?” Barry asked. I had to admire how well he handled that. He had Will and Zach completely flummoxed. “There’s a confidentiality clause in our agreement. That means you can be honest with me, and I won’t say a fucking thing. So let’s try again. What’s the status of your relationship?”

Zach looked at Will, then at Barry, and sighed. “We’re together.”

“Ya think?” Barry asked sarcastically. “I knew that the minute I walked in here. I just wanted to hear you say that.”

“Why?” Zach demanded.

“Because I can’t help you out if you don’t tell me the whole deal. Now I know the whole deal,” he said.

“So you’re willing to help us out?” Will asked cautiously.

“I’ll help you out,” Barry said, smiling.

Will must have sensed my presence, because his eyes scanned the room, and even though I was in the foyer, mostly hidden, he spied me. “Dad!” I walked into the room, pretending like I’d just gotten there, even as he got up and strode to me to give me a huge hug. “Good to see you!”

“Good to see you, too,” I said. I gave Zach a hug too, which kind of surprised him, but he didn’t get the symbolism. I was showing Barry how tight we were, and explaining, non-verbally, that I was in their corner.

“Barry Friedman,” he said, and held out his hand.

“Brad Schluter,” I responded, shaking his hand firmly.

“How long have you been here?” Will asked.

“Long enough to hear a very interesting conversation,” I said. It was pleasant to see Barry shit a brick.