Gap Year - 17. Chapter 17

February 3, 2004

Escorial, CA

Will

The gates to Escorial, the palace we called home, opened automatically, allowing us to breeze past the fencing that kept people out and gave us the privacy we craved. I’d moved up here when I was 14, but it had been a part of my life since I was born. While its Mission Revival/Spanish architecture made it seem as if it were a cousin of Hearst’s San Simeon, and it was that old, inside and all around it had become very modern. With Stef, the one-man decorating army that he was, it was inevitable that there was always a part of Escorial that was undergoing some sort of change. Escorial was like a really big square that was hollow in the middle, where there was a really pretty courtyard. The drive divided at the gate into a two-lane affair with a central island with trees and flowers, making it look like a boulevard. The boulevard cut through the carefully manicured lawn, with gardens and fountains interspersed to make it interesting, straight up to the imposing front entry to the mansion, with its circular drive and porte-cochere.

The limo headed straight to the main entrance, bypassing the road to the left. That road would have wound to the left side of the building, where a large garage was neatly concealed by hedges and trees. Beyond that structure were the stables and staff quarters, along with some other buildings tied to maintenance of the grounds. After passing by the staff quarters, that road would link up to the gravel road to the Stanford Dish, property that was part of Stanford University. The plan that was in the works was to put a helipad in by the Dish that we would share with the University.

“Think how easy our commute home would have been if we had the helipad built,” Stef said to Grand. Stef had limited patience in general and was frustrated that laying out a big concrete landing pad for a helicopter was taking so long and so much effort. In the past, Grand had soothingly told him that “these things take time” but had given up on that, and now just ignored him. The limo easily navigated the circle and stopped in front of the grand entrance, while two of our staff members hurried out to get our bags.

“It is good to be home,” Grand said, changing the subject. “Despite our brief stop, we are still arriving before lunch.”

“I am going to talk to Craig and the airplane manager about the incident on the plane,” Stef said, giving me an apologetic look.

“I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Stef,” I said. “I think he got my point.”

“Either that or he’s daft,” Tom said, chuckling. Those were the first words he said since we’d gotten in the car, so transfixed had he been on his new home. He looked at the staff nervously as they took our bags, probably worried that he should be supervising things.

“Don’t worry,” I said to him. “They know whose luggage is whose. That’s why our suitcases are different colors.”

“Oh,” he said with a bit of relief. “Thanks.”

“No problem,” I said. Details like that are things that Stef would neglect to tell the poor guy. “Once you meet the staff, they’ll fill you in on that kind of stuff.”

We entered the impressive foyer to find Grandmama and Frank, her husband, waiting to greet us. “How wonderful to have you home!” Grandmaman said in French, her native tongue.

“It’s good to see you,” I responded in that language, giving her a warm hug. After I greeted Frank, I introduced them to Tom. Grandmaman raised her eyebrows at me knowingly since he was so handsome, but I gave her a slight shake of the head to tell her that Tom and I weren’t romantically or sexually involved.

Grand and Stef were visibly jet-lagged, so Grandmaman thoughtfully cut the conversation short. I’d slept for most of the flight and had woken up when we landed, so that had conveniently gotten me mostly back on Pacific Time. I put my backpack in my room, then wandered into the kitchen and had lunch, then grabbed a couple of carrots and headed out to the stables.

Psyche had her head poking out of her stall, like she was bored, then when she saw me, she got all exited and started stamping around. “Hey there,” I said, as I fed her the carrots. “Let’s go for a ride.”

“I will saddle her up for you,” the stable guy said, kind of scaring me since I didn’t know he was there.

“Cool,” I said, then felt really guilty. “Has anyone ridden her while I was gone?”

“Yes, Mr. Will,” he said. I don’t know why they insisted on calling me Mr. Will instead of just Will. I rolled my eyes at him. “The trainer comes over to work with her two days a week. Mrs. Hayes rides her sometimes, and sometimes Miss Marie comes over and rides her. If no one else rides her, I do.”

“Thanks Juan,” I said, patting him on the back. “Thanks for making sure she gets exercise and attention.” He smiled and nodded, then started saddling her up. He was done by the time I’d changed into my tack and reappeared.

Psyche was trying to contain her excitement, but she couldn’t stand still, which was hilarious. “She is anxious to go,” Juan said.

I thanked him again, got on her, and made her go at a respectable pace until we got out of the stables and onto the road. I led her up to where the Dish was and let her run like a fiend, doing my best to hang on for dear life. Even though it may have seemed like she was out of control, a gentle squeeze of my legs or a soft tug at the reins were enough to calm her down a bit. I was kind of amazed that I had this bond with an animal, and that I enjoyed it so much.

I thought back to my years growing up, and how we never had pets. Darius wanted to get a snake, but my father absolutely went postal over that. JJ and I tried to talk them into a puppy, but that went nowhere. My father had said that we were way too busy to take care of it, which was bullshit, then my mother insisted that she had major allergies and that a puppy might kill her. There were also no pets at Escorial, only horses. I decided that was probably because Stef and Grandmaman didn’t want some animal messing up the rugs or furniture, or jumping up to greet them. I was guessing that Grand didn’t make an issue out of it because he got his animal affection needs satisfied by the horses. I evilly began to plot out how fun it would be to bring a puppy home and watch them freak out, but that wouldn’t be fair to the dog, since I’d be gone to Massachusetts in September.

My ride was interrupted when my phone rang, so I slowed Psyche down to a trot and answered it. “You back from down under?” Marie asked.

“I am,” I said. “Out taking Psyche for a ride.”

“I love her,” Marie gushed. “It’s like she watches out for me but makes the trip a lot of fun.”

“Sounds like the dude I was with in Australia,” I joked.

“I have to get to class,” she said, then got to the point. “Meet me at the bistro in an hour.”

“Is everything alright?” I asked nervously, since she usually didn’t order me around like that.

“Everything’s fine,” she snapped, then sighed, “I just wanted to talk to you about a few things. Is that alright?”

“No,” I said, and waited for her annoyance to increase. “I will meet you at 4:00 at the French restaurant.”

“You always have to be difficult and get your way,” she said, pretending to be miffed.

“I’m hungry, and I doubt we’ll have much for dinner around here,” I said logically.

“Thanks Will. I’ll see you there at 4:00,” she said then ended the call. I paused to call the French restaurant and talked to the guy who ran it and cajoled my way into one of their private rooms. With that done, I pushed Psyche up to a full canter and got back to the stables with her still lathered up.

“Juan, got a call and have to bail,” I said, as I pulled Psyche up and jumped off of her. “Can you get someone to cool her down?”

“It is no problem,” he said with a smile. This dude was seriously awesome. I thanked him yet again, then hurried back to my room to take a shower and get ready. I took some pains with my appearance since it was a nice place. I walked through the kitchen on my way out and was surprised to find Stef there.

“I thought you’d be asleep,” I said quizzically.

“I find that although I am tired, I cannot sleep,” he said.

“Perhaps you need some exercise first?” I asked with a leer.

“Sadly, that did not help,” he said, making me giggle. “You look quite nice.”

“I’m having dinner with Marie at the French restaurant.” He raised an eyebrow to non-verbally question why we were having dinner. “She just told me she wants to talk to me, and wouldn’t say why.”

“I have not heard of anything significant that may cause such an invitation,” he said, answering my unspoken question just as I’d answered his.

“Should be interesting,” I said. I went out to the garage and found that my Ferrari was being serviced, so I took Stef’s Porsche instead. He never drove it anymore, which made me wonder why it was even here, but I think he liked having his own car that he could drive if he wanted to.

I pulled up to the restaurant just as Marie did and parked next to her Porsche Cayenne. She’d originally had a Mercedes convertible with only two seats, but with all her activities, she lugged a lot of crap and people around, so she opted for an SUV. I got out and went over to greet her. “Good to see you!” she said effusively and gave me a big hug.

“Good to see you too!” I said, returning her greeting just as warmly.

She stepped back and looked at me, then frowned. “You dressed much nicer than me. You make me look like a kid.”

“That’s me, the older perv out cruising the high school for underage chicks,” I joked, making her laugh. I put my arm around her and led her into the restaurant, where we encountered the owner, Henri. We both babbled on with him in French, even as he led us to a nice private room with a table set just for two.

“I feel like this is a date,” she said.

“I think it just shows how incredibly thoughtful I am. To show you how glad I am to spend time with you, I set all this up,” I countered.

“Right,” she said. “That was nice. Thanks Will.”

“No problem,” I said. “So what do you want to talk about?”

“Can I at least order a drink?” she asked. I rolled my eyes at her. The waiter came in, introduced himself, then took our drink orders. They didn’t card us here, so I got a beer, and Marie got wine.

“Alright, that’s out of the way, so what’s up?” I asked playfully.

“I’m trying to figure out where to go to school this fall,” she said.

“I thought you were going to Brown?” I asked, since she’d seemed pretty set on that last time we talked.

“Noah’s going there,” she said. He was an asshole she’d dated after 9-11.

“Dude, fuck him. Don’t let him make this decision for you,” I said assertively.

“That’s not the only reason I’m thinking of changing my mind,” she snapped. “But I really don’t want to deal with him.”

“I can see that,” I said. “So what are your choices?”

“I didn’t get into Yale,” she said.

“Dumbfucks,” I said, winking at her.

“No shit,” she agreed, trying to salvage her ego over that. “You probably could have gotten in.”

“Didn’t even apply, that’s how lame they are,” I said, making her laugh.

“I narrowed it down to three choices,” she said cautiously. “First one is Princeton.”

“Good school, except it’s in New Jersey,” I said. We laughed at that.

“I also got in to Duke,” she said. “Not sure I want to go there though. I flew out to visit while you were gone, and the vibe I got was kind of misogynistic.”

“It is a southern school, with big time athletics,” I agreed. “So what’s the third one?”

“I got into Harvard,” she said nervously. Now I got why she was freaking out. She didn’t want to jam my groove and make it look like she was chasing after me, and she probably wanted to be her own person and do something different.

“Dude, that is awesome!” I said, and high-fived her. “Are you going?”

“It feels weird, since that’s where you’re going, and I don’t want to bug you,” she said, confirming what I’d imagined her problems were.

“That is such bullshit,” I said dismissively. “I would love to have you around.”

“You sure about that?” she asked.

“You and I have been tight forever, except for that time when you wanted to fuck me,” I teased.

“Yeah, that just shows how bad my judgment is,” she said, cracking me up.

“True that,” I agreed. “It would be so awesome to have someone there I can trust completely.”

“That’s how I felt, but I wanted to make sure you were cool with it,” she said.

“I think it’s really thoughtful that you were so worried about my feelings, when this is a big decision for you,” I said. I tried to sound sincere, even though I actually thought it was stupid. Shit, it was her future, she should make the best decision for herself. “You know, you and I don’t really connect well unless we’re face to face.”

“What do you mean by that?” she demanded defensively.

“When I’m gone, or you are, we don’t talk on the phone much or email each other, and when we do it’s just shallow bullshit. Our really good conversations are in person,” I explained.

“You think?”

“Duh,” I said, getting a frown. “I mean, you could have called and talked to me about this.”

She gave me a dirty look, since that pretty much nailed my point. “I guess you’re right.”

“I usually am,” I said, which got me more rolled eyes. “I bet the next four years are going to be intense. I think having you there, someone I can talk to and trust with anything, is an amazing gift.” I was talking to her like I thought girls liked to be talked to, which was seriously similar to how I’d talk if I was slightly stoned.

“That’s how I felt too,” she said. She stood up so I did the same thing, then she gave me a big hug. “Thanks Will. I’m looking forward to doing this with you.”

“Me too,” I agreed, and squeezed her just a little tighter to show I was sincere. The waiter came in and broke our happy hug, so we sat down and ordered, and that whole process served to change the subject.

“How are things with Ryan?” I asked. She gave me a dirty look. “Dude, we just talked about how we can totally trust each other.”

“They’re good,” she said in a way that meant they weren’t great.

“Alright,” I said, but in a quizzical way.

“There’s a guy in LA who’s putting together a boy band, sort of like NSync or Back Street Boys, and he’s trying to get Ryan and John to be two parts of his four-member group,” she said.

“I’d heard there was talk about that, but didn’t know what the deal was,” I said.

“Cody did some checking around, and this guy’s legit, and Cody even hooked them up with an agent to make sure they don’t get hosed on the deal,” she said.

“So are they going to do it? That could be cool, especially if we can get good tickets to their concerts,” I said, being goofy.

“We can already get good concert tickets, or haven’t you figured out how to do that yet?” she asked cattily. She was right. Stef had an assistant who handled shit like that.

“I know how that works,” I said.

“Ryan is in, big time,” she said. “He’s totally into the idea of being a star and having women falling into his lap anytime he wants.”

“Does that bother you?” Her words hadn’t sounded bitter, but maybe I’d read her wrong.

“Not really,” she said, shaking her head. “I guess after that whole deal with Austin going off to college and us breaking up kind of burned me, so with Ryan I’ve kept things a lot lighter.”

“You mean you just do stuff together and have fun, and you fuck,” I teased.

“That’s exactly it,” she said. “We have a good time hanging out together and I like it when we fuck.”

I laughed. “So you’re not all broken up about him dumping you for concert sluts?”

“I’m a little sad, but I’ll be okay,” she said. “I mean, I can’t exactly say that to him. I have to make him think that I’ll be devastated, or he’ll be all worried that something is wrong.”

I laughed. “He’s a big boy. He can probably handle the truth. It may make it easier for you guys to still be friends.”

“It may,” she said. “To be honest, other than sex and hanging out, we don’t have a lot in common.”

“I am so impressed at how you’re dealing with this,” I said. “I mean, most of the chicks at Menlo would be totally drama about this, and you’ve totally got your shit together.”

“Like I said, Austin broke my heart, and now I know better,” she said.

“Kind of like Zach and me,” I said sadly.

“Probably,” she agreed.

“I was with this awesome dude in Australia, and he fell in love with me, and I felt like shit because when I left, he was really hurt,” I said. “Only because of Zach, and my vacation flings before that, I hadn’t let myself fall for him.”

“Pain is a good teacher,” she said fatalistically.

“I guess,” I said. “So here I am, a day after I left him, and I think about him and smile about all the fun we had, but I’m not sad at all. Does that make me a complete, unfeeling asshole?”

“I think it means that we’ve matured,” she said. I nodded.

“So what’s John going to do?” I asked.

She started laughing. “My mother is horrified at the thought that he’ll be a teen idol and have paparazzi and crazed fans chasing after him.” I started laughing with her. My Aunt Claire was incredibly classy, and that world was a little bit too crass for her.

“That’s so her,” I agreed.

“My father is all about him finishing up school, and going to college,” she said. “John can finish high school on the road, but college would have to wait, or maybe never happen.”

“What does John want to do?” I asked. To me, his parent’s objections were interesting input, but not the real issue here. It bugged me that no one seemed to be focusing on that key issue: it was John's life, and it was is dream. Then again, John was always a more dutiful son than I was, so he’d probably be more concerned with their opinions.

“He’s torn,” she said. “I mean, his life is pretty easy right now. He doesn’t work hard in school, and gets B’s with the occasional A, just enough to keep my parents from losing their minds.”

“Besides, they already have one kid who’s damn near a genius,” I said, since her academics were stellar.

“Right,” she said modestly. “He can go to a decent college and party and have a great time. If he joins the band, he’ll be hella busy.”

“I can see that,” I said.

“I think he and Ryan were both waiting to see what the other one did,” she said. “Ryan pulled the trigger last week and told the guy he was in. So John probably has a week, maybe two, before he has to make a choice.”

“What would you do?” I asked.

“That’s not my deal,” she said. “I mean, think about all the attention we already get. Shit, you were in People Magazine’s last edition with the Hilton girls. That’s enough as it is. Being a celebrity in my own right would be a little overwhelming.”

“I was in People? Was it a good pic?”

“No one was looking at you, they were looking at Paris, who is totally hot,” she said, imitating her.

“I’m totally hot too,” I objected.

“You must have entered an alternate reality when you came back from down under,” she said, giving me shit.

“That’s probably true,” I said. “I’ll have to catch up with him.”

“Nothing going on tonight, so maybe we can all hang out,” she said.

“Sounds good,” I agreed. We finished eating and I told her all about Australia, Connie, and Tom, then I paid the bill and went back to Escorial to hang out with her, Ryan, and John.

February 4, 2004

Escorial, CA

Will

I was hanging out in my room playing video games when there was a knock on the door. “Come in!” I said loudly, then worked to finish shooting the last of the aliens.

“Hey!” my father said enthusiastically. I tossed down my controller...fuck the aliens…and jumped up to give him a big hug. “Sorry we didn’t make it down here until today.”

“Nothing to be sorry for,” I said. “I thought I had the jet lag beat yesterday, but I slept through most of today.

“How was Australia?” Jake asked, even as he gave me a big hug as well.

“It was awesome! How come you guys didn’t make it?” I asked.

“A few things came up,” my father said mysteriously. It worried me that Jake frowned at him. “I’d love to go back with you.”

“Dude, that would be the bomb,” I said. “You would so love it!”

“I hear there are lots of hot guys there,” Jake said.

“None of them is hot as you,” I said, and was mostly being honest. Jake was a stud.

“How are you doing?” my father asked with concern. I motioned for them to have a seat in my ‘sitting area’. He’d seen how messed up I was after leaving Berto in Italy, then after that how sad I’d been when I’d left Kai in Hawaii, and he’d seen me fall apart when I’d had to say goodbye to Zach. He was worried that I was the same way with Connie.

“I’m doing good,” I said honestly. “I kept the Scott Slater theorem on vacation romances in mind.”

“The Scott Slater theorem on vacations?” Jake asked.

“Yeah, the first time I was broken up over leaving a guy I met on vacation, he told me that vacation flings are really good, really intense, and as soon as the plane’s wheels leave the runway, it’s really over,” I explained.

“Pretty accurate,” Jake said, nodding.

“So I kept a little distance with Connie, and I miss him, but I’m OK,” I said, then got nervous. “He didn’t really have much experience with that, so unfortunately he got hammered.”

“Bummer,” my father said sympathetically.

“He has that rule about not hooking up with a guy more than once, and it seemed so stupid to me, but I get it now,” I said. “He’s a really loving guy, so when he lets himself go, he’s all in.”

“Ouch,” Jake said. “So did you call him?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head. “He says it’s too painful to hear my voice, so we email. We’ve shot a few notes back and forth over the past few days, but it’s shallow.”

“He’s trying to put distance between you,” Jake concluded, even though that was pretty obvious. I nodded.

“Well, I’m going to go up and get ready for dinner,” Dad said, looking at his watch. I gave Jake a knowing look, since it was way before time he had to get ready. They were sneaking off to fuck.

“Yeah enjoy that,” I said, snickering.

“See you at dinner,” Jake said, and winked at me. They vanished, leaving me to worry about Connie, and to feel guilty for not feeling like shit about leaving him behind in Australia.

Dinner was a big deal, since we’d just gotten back from our trip, and we hadn’t had a formal dinner last night. Sometimes, dinners at Escorial could be a bit tense, but everyone seemed to be in a good mood, so this time it was pretty festive.

After we’d all sat down and started eating, Stef stared at me until he had my attention. “I am wondering if you would mind leaving for New York on Friday afternoon?”

“I thought we weren’t flying out until Sunday,” I said, wondering what the deal was.

“That was the original plan, but I would like to get there early. Last year I missed the opening events and didn’t enjoy it as much as I would have otherwise,” he said. He didn’t say that JJ had been an absolute bitch during fashion week, and that had been the real buzz-kill for his visit.

“I’m fine with that,” I said. “As long as you help me pack.”

“I am more than happy to help you out,” he said.

“Where is that handsome young man you brought back with you from Australia?” Grandmaman asked.

“Tom opted to eat with the staff this evening,” Grand said loftily.

“I am confused,” she said, but in a way that cued us in that she was going to give him some shit. “I cannot determine whether he is an employee, or a romantic entanglement.”

“He is an employee,” Grand said.

“We talked about this in Australia,” I said. “Grand said that if Tom was an employee, it would be inappropriate for him to have a sexual relationship with Grand or Stef, but he was welcome to sleep with me.”

“So you’re doing him?” John asked.

“No,” I said, trying not to laugh.

“Ah, then it is entirely professional,” Grandmaman concluded.

“Quite,” Grand said.

“Well that’s very interesting,” I said, and got a death glare from both Grand and Stef. I pulled out my phone. “When we were flying back to the states, there were loud noises on the plane keeping me awake.”

“That was probably the co-pilot who hopped in bed with you,” Stef said dismissively.

“No, these noises were different,” I said. I hit play on the recording and turned it to max volume. The first voice they heard was Tom’s, saying “Take that big cock, Stef!” followed by Stef exclaiming “Oh yes! Yes!”

Everyone started laughing hysterically except Stef and Grand, who continued to glare at me, until they saw the humor in it as well. “Well, professionalism can take different forms,” Grand finally pronounced.

“Indeed,” Grandmaman said, smirking at him.