Poor Man's Son - 43. Chapter 42

September 5, 2000

Holmby Hills, CA

Will

“Dude, I’m so glad you’re here,” Jason said as we made our way to the cafeteria. We had the last class before lunch together.

“Right,” I said, giving him shit. “You went here to try to get away from me.”

“You’re stalking me,” he joked. “Trying to get into my pants.”

“Not even. I like big dicks.” I was really glad he was here too. I’d only seen one other guy that I knew. I’d run into John Nakamura on my way to third hour, and he’d been friendly enough, but when he saw me in the cafeteria, he blew me off and went over to hang out with some other guys. I pretended not to give a shit, even though it kind of bugged me. Since when did someone not want to hang out with me? I was going to have to seriously work on boosting my reputation and popularity here, I thought to myself in a jocular way, and almost made myself laugh out loud. Jason and I got our food and then Jason led us out to the fire road, where a bunch of people were hanging out and eating. He walked up to a spot where two guys were sitting down.

“Hey,” Jason said to them, and got nods in return, nods that if they were any less pronounced, they’d be invisible. We all knew that was an enthusiastic greeting in our world. “Will, this is Lance, and this is Devon.”

“Hey,” we all said to each other. I sat down next to Lance, but across from Jason. Devon was on Jason’s left. He was a good looking black guy. Some black guys have lighter skin, but not this guy: his skin was really dark. He had an air about him that made him exotic. Lance wasn’t just good looking, Lance was fucking hot. He had red hair, kind of like Pat’s, and had eyes that were a really light green. It made him seem just a little bit sinister.

“Crawford and Grafton got sent home,” Lance said nonchalantly.

“You know those guys?” I asked.

“Played baseball with them,” he said, as if it were no big deal.

“What happened?” Devon asked.

“Some kid said they were picking on him in the bathroom.”

“Which kid?” I asked, hoping that it was the imperious guy we’d met in the bathroom, and not JJ.

“Heard from one of the chicks in the office that it was some short, blond kid. Don’t know who he is. Must be new.” Jason looked at me knowingly.

“Fuck,” I said involuntarily.

“What?” Devon asked.

“That’s my brother, JJ.” I said as I shook my head with embarrassment.

“Grafton and Crawford should have known better, anyway,” Lance said dismissively. “You can’t pull that shit here,” he told me as an aside, then his eyes twinkled just a bit. “You don’t stick up for your brother?”

“I stick up for him. I slammed that Grafton dude against the wall, and he pussed out,” I said, being all macho.

“You’re lucky you didn’t get tossed out for the day too,” Devon observed.

“Yeah, I get that now. Some little dude explained things to me,” I said bitchily.

“Alistair Crownbeam,” Devon said, and they both laughed. “Dude’s a fucking genius or something.” I looked at Jason, and he looked as puzzled as I did. They were talking about the shrimpy guy with a combination of disdain and admiration, which was weird to begin with, and certainly not what you’d expect the reaction of these big guys to be. We finished our lunch, and then I walked with Jason toward our next class.

“This place is going to take some getting used to,” I told him.

“No shit,” he agreed. “But I like it.”

“Me too,” I said, and found that I meant it. “I just don’t see why JJ had to do that.”

“Dude, I’ll bet Eric fucks up way worse than that,” Jason said, referring to his brother. “He’s such a spaz.” I nodded and went into my next class, not a little disoriented by all this shit.

It turned out to be a pretty good day, but I was in a bad mood anyway. That was frustrating, when I’d find myself pissed off for no apparent reason. It had been a lot worse last year, when those moods would hit me more often. The doctor said it was some sort of hormonal thing having to do with puberty, which was all fine and good, but that didn’t make me any less annoyed. I tried to work it out of my system, but just as usually happened when I was this crabby, something stupid would occur, and I’d get even more pissed off. In this case, Michael came to pick us up instead of Pat. I didn’t like Michael, I didn’t want to be around Michael, and I didn’t want to deal with his stupid little notes that he wrote for my parents. I wanted Pat to pick me up. Wasn’t that Pat’s job, to come get me? What if I wanted to do something different than JJ? I allowed that train of thought to irritate me, until I was genuinely angry.

JJ was ten minutes late getting to the car, which made the whole situation that much worse. “You’re late,” I snapped.

“I’m sorry,” he said insincerely. “I had to stop by the office.”

“If you’re going to be late, I’m going to have to talk to Pat and make sure he comes to pick me up,” I said loud enough that Michael heard me. “That’s his fucking job, anyway.”

“What’s your problem?” JJ demanded.

“Nothing,” I lied. “Why did you go turn those guys in?”

“They broke the rules. I didn’t think they’d get it unless they got in trouble,” he said with a really smarmy attitude.

“You busted them, you made your point, and then you didn’t even give them a chance to be nicer.”

“They shouldn’t have been doing it in the first place,” he shot back, only his tone was nastier than mine. He was escalating the situation; it was like a challenge.

“You did this shit when you were younger, when you were a major fucking tattletale. It got to the point when no one wanted to be around you. You planning to do that here?” That really pissed him off, which was the start to me getting rid of my own bad mood. “If you turn yourself into a pariah, don’t come looking for me to bail your sorry ass out.”

“Fuck you,” he yelled. “I don’t need you to bail me out of anything. I have my own friends.”

“Good thing,” I said in a smart ass tone. He folded his arms and said “humph” as he turned away from me. We rode on in silence while I just glowered.

“So are you friends with them?” he asked me, referring to Grafton and Crawford. For some reason, he’d waited until we were almost to the hospital to start this line of conversation.

“No, they were lucky I didn’t lay them both out in English,” I said dismissively.

“Then why do you give a shit?”

“Because you worked it out with them, then you didn’t even let them try not to be dicks.” That was just a major way I operated. If I was pissed off at someone, and they apologized, or agreed to not piss me off, I gave them another chance. Well, I did after a while, anyway. I thought of Tony, and wondered if I’d done that with him.

“Yeah, well now they won’t bother me or anyone else. Now they won’t just go find some other kid to pick on.”

“Whatever,” I said, and ignored him. Michael dropped us off in front of the hospital and gave me a dirty look, which I guess was his way of being loyal to JJ. I glared at him and he backed down, which did nothing but make me feel worse, like I was a big bully.

We found my mom in her room with Tiffany and Dad. I was kind of surprised to see him here, since he was usually so busy. He’d been traveling to Connecticut an awful lot since he took that position as chairman of Triton. “And how was school today?” Mom asked cheerfully as soon as they were done greeting us.

“Great! I made some cool friends,” JJ said enthusiastically.

“And some enemies,” I growled. They looked at me, wanting details, but I ignored them. “How are you? When are you gonna have this baby?”

“It may be awhile,” Mom said nervously. I looked squarely at Tiffany, since she usually gave me the straight scoop.

“She started to dilate, and then stopped. They’re keeping her here for a few days to make sure everything is OK,” Tiffany said.

“So you two are alright?” I asked my mother nervously, referring to her and my soon-to-be-born sister.

“We’re fine,” she said. I tried to read her expression, to tell if she was just shining me on, but a glance at my dad seemed to validate that she’d be OK. “So tell me how JJ made enemies?”

“I turned in some guys that were picking on me,” JJ said, giving me a dirty look. “Like you’re supposed to.”

“What’s wrong with that?” Dad asked me, only he wasn’t being malicious, he was trying to draw my reasoning out. And then it was the same old dynamic, the same dynamic that I’d avoided for most of the summer. JJ would bitch about something, or tell on me, and Mom would jump in to back him up. Then my dad would instinctively take my side, and he’d do it the same way he was doing it now. It was like he was a lawyer. He’d ask me key questions about my side of things, as if he was trying to lead me down the path with the right argument. It was almost funny when I recognized that tactic and that method that he was using, the same one I’d seen Grand use over and over again. Multigenerational family dysfunction, I concluded. I was so done with this bullshit. I was about to just bail on them, but here was my mom, about to give birth or whatever, and that wasn’t fair. I couldn’t just be a brat and storm out.

“The guys were idiots, and shouldn’t have treated him that way. But when they were faced with it, they backed down. It’s wrong because JJ didn’t give them a chance to do better before he went and turned them in.” I was falling into the same pattern too, going where my dad wanted me to go.

“But they broke the rules,” Mom said, just as she was supposed to.

I leaned in and kissed my mom nicely instead of answering. “I’m glad you’re doing well,” I told her. They all looked at me, kind of surprised at my reaction, all of them except Tiffany, who seemed to be suppressing a smirk. I eyed all of them coolly, then I turned and walked straight out of the room, determined not to get pulled into JJ’s game. I was so mad I just kept on walking. I felt a presence next to me and turned slightly to see Pat walking in step with me.

“Sorry I didn’t pick you up,” he said, matching my brisk pace easily. “I had something for lunch that was fucking up my stomach.”

“S’OK,” I relented. He said he was sorry. How could I be mad at him?

“Don’t you have to be at your doctor’s office in about 15 minutes?” he asked. “You’re lucky it’s not far.”

“Dude, I forgot all about that,” I told him. “Thanks for reminding me.”

“No problem,” he said as we got to the SUV. We both hopped into our respective front seats, and he drove me the short way to the medical building. “You want me to come in?”

“You don’t have to. You can wait out here.” I didn’t want to go in there any more than he did. He nodded and left me out front. I walked into the office and signed in at the reception desk. One of the advantages of having shitloads of money was that I didn’t even have a chance to sit down before they led me back to the examination room.

The nurse came in and took my basic readings, like blood pressure and shit, and bugged me to find out why I was there. I just blew her off; another person I’d pissed off today. No more than ten minutes later, the doctor came in. “What can I do for you today?” he asked cheerfully. He was an older guy, and nice enough, but he always acted like we had this deep, meaningful doctor-patient relationship. We didn’t.

“I want to get an HIV test,” I said. I thought I did a good job of hiding my nervousness.

“Have you had unprotected sex?” he asked me with raised eyebrows, as if he were outraged. He stared at me, waiting for an answer. It took him a couple of minutes to realize he wasn’t getting one. “I’ll have the nurse come in and draw some blood. If you’ve had unprotected sex, we should also check for other sexually transmitted diseases.”

“Fine,” I said, unenthusiastically. What else could I have, flowing through my veins? “Do you have my cell phone number?”

He checked his chart. “No, but we can call you at home with the results.”

“No, you can’t,” I said firmly. “Call me on my cell phone.”

He gave me a dirty look, but this was important. I didn’t want him using that as an excuse to tell my parents that I got an HIV test. “I’ll make a note,” he said, insincerely.

“Is this an issue?” I demanded. “I don’t want you calling my home number, and I don’t want you talking to anyone about this.”

“As I said, I made a note in the file,” he said, now thoroughly pissed at me. But he got that I wasn’t fucking around, and I felt pretty confident that he’d do as I asked. The nurse came in and drew blood, and it hurt worse than it normally did. I concluded that she’d made it painful on purpose.

Both Pat and I were quiet on the drive home. I’d actually ended up having a pretty good day. I just wish I wasn’t so pissed off, and so fucking moody.

Fortunately the evening had been quiet. Everyone was still at the hospital, so I decided to just grab a couple of sandwiches and eat in my room. Besides, I didn’t want to be around anyone; it was better if I just hid my bitchy self away. I sighed as I fired up my computer and logged onto my e-mail account. I about shit a brick when I saw an e-mail from Tony in my inbox.

Will,

I figured you probably didn’t want to hear from me, so I worked this all out so I could send you just one e-mail. Except for you, I haven’t fucked anyone without a condom for a long time, almost a year. Just to make sure, I went and got tested, and I got the results back today. I’m negative.

You don’t want to talk about this, but I gotta tell you that I really am sorry for how I reacted. I wish I could explain it to you, but I understand that you’re pissed, so I won’t bug you. If you ever want to hear me out, just ask.

Stef told me you were coming up to Escorial on the 23^rd so they can celebrate your birthday. He invited me up there for it. I didn’t say anything then, but I’ve got some shit going on, so I’ve got a good excuse to stay away. Happy birthday, anyway.

Tony.

I just stared at the screen, stunned by the words. The reactions flowed over me like a series of waves. The first one that hit me was euphoria; I was thrilled that he was negative. That meant that I didn’t have ‘it’ and I could put all those horrible fears back in their box. If I’d have known a few hours earlier, I could have avoided my asshole of a doctor and his sadistic nurse, but in the end, that didn’t really matter; what mattered was that I was negative.

I let myself digest that for a while, enjoying that news, then I went back and re-read his e-mail and picked up on the other shit. So he felt bad about what he said, and how he reacted. My first reaction was “big deal, he should,” but it was easier to think that than to really feel that. His whole e-mail oozed guilt. I had so wanted him to feel like shit, to feel like I did, but now that he did, and I could see it in his words, it wasn’t as satisfying as I’d hoped it would be. In fact, it just made me feel even worse.

So much for all of my thoughts about giving people chances, and forgiving people who fuck up when they say they’re sorry. Shit, I hadn’t even given him a chance to explain any of this. I’m not sure it would have mattered, but I should have at least given him that. I felt the guilt overwhelm me, and then it dawned on me that if I felt this way, the guilt he felt must be like a monster inside of him, devouring him. I didn’t want that. I didn’t want to hurt him anymore. I flexed my fingers then typed an e-mail back to him.

Tony,

Thanks for the e-mail. I was pretty freaked out about that, so much that I went to see my doctor and got tested today. He’s an asshole, but that’s a different topic for a different e-mail.

No one tells me shit. I didn’t know I was coming up there on the 23^rd, but I’m glad that I am. And no, you didn’t ruin any big surprise, so don’t worry about that.

If you have plans, I understand, but if you don’t, I’d really like it if you came to this party, or whatever they’re having for me. I really don’t want to be pissed at you, so maybe we can find some time to talk about it and work it out. Let me know.

Will

I smiled as I hit ‘send’, hoping that maybe I could get to the point where I didn’t detest Tony Carbone. I didn’t think I’d ever get to the point where I stopped thinking about him, and fucking him, every time I jacked off.

September 5, 2000

Redwood City, CA

Gathan

I carried my hockey bag into the rink with absolutely no enthusiasm or energy at all, even though I should have been stoked to go to my first practice. I’d been like this since I’d gotten back to Escorial. Not having Kristin around was like an open wound for me. I didn’t realize how much I’d grown to not just love her, but to need her. It was as if my whole purpose for living were gone. When we talked on the phone, it was nice, but it was also hollow. I couldn’t touch her, hug her, hold her, make her know that I loved her, and get the same thing back from her.

I paused in the entry to wait for Wade. He’d ridden here with me, but his father had called him, so he was still outside talking to his old man. Matt had come up here earlier. He was the captain of the team this year, and he was even fuller of himself than before, if that were possible. I was about to let myself space out and think about Kristin when Wade came through the doors. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” I followed him dutifully through the rink, which was pretty crappy, not what you’d expect for Stanford. Then again, we were just a club team.

“The campaign goes on,” he said, smiling at me.

“Was that weird for you?” I asked, referring to his time on the campaign trail with his father.

“You mean because I’m gay, and my father is a pretty hard-core conservative?” he asked. I nodded. “You’ll find that people will say one thing when you’re not around, but it takes a pretty crass person to be an asshole to your face. Most of the people were really nice.”

Wade took me under his wing and introduced me to all the guys. They seemed like a fun bunch. In fact, they gave me what was a pretty warm welcome, all except one. Matt kept looking at me from the part of the locker room that was reserved for the upper-classmen, and his look wasn’t friendly at all. I didn’t get what I’d done to piss him off, but he definitely wasn’t happy that I was there.

On the ice, he made his displeasure with me more obvious. There wasn’t a time that he was near me that he didn’t check me, even if he didn’t have to. It was starting to really piss me off. I’d been just trying to avoid him, but he made it impossible.

I was in our zone, with Cole as the other D, when I saw him break past our forwards and start tearing for me with some cute guy named Klip as his wing. My legs instinctively started moving me backward, gauging his stance, trying to figure out his next move. Of all the guys on our team to defend against, Matt was the toughest. He had an instinctive way about him. When I was defending against Wade, it was a lot easier, because he usually had a plan that he was implementing, so once I figured out his plan, I could stop him. Matt wasn’t like that. He was so flexible, so keyed into the game, that what looked like a straight shot to the goal could end up with him passing the puck and flying behind the net.

Our eyes met, and I knew that even though this was practice, he was into this one hundred percent. This was like a playoff game for him. Or at least that’s what I thought. I was a little off balance, keeping myself flexible so I could go whichever way he was going to go, when he plowed right into me and knocked me on my ass. I slid into the boards with a thunk. I wasn’t hurt, but I was pissed off.

“What the fuck?” I demanded.

“You left yourself vulnerable, rookie,” he sneered. “You want to play with the big boys, better get your game on.” He didn’t give me a chance to say anything, he just skated off. I pulled myself together, but the anger just pulsed through my body. I hadn’t felt like this for a long time. I hadn’t felt like this since before I’d been with Kristin.