Streak - 5. Chapter 5

September 7, 2002

Oberstdorf, Germany

 

JJ

 

“JJ, quit beating yourself up. You did fine yesterday,” Tiffany said. She was trying to make me feel better, and to pump me up, only all she was really accomplishing was annoying me.

“Fourth place in the short program is not fine,” I said firmly. “That means I probably won’t place.” I didn’t think the other guys ahead of me would do badly enough to plummet in the rankings.

“If you do well on the long program, you will,” she said. “When you kick ass, you really pull in high scores.” That would seem to be self-evident, but I got what she was saying. When I was good, I was really good, but when I was off my game, I totally sucked.

“I think those guys will do well too,” I said.

“Davydov probably will,” she agreed. He was from Belarus, and had come in first on the short program. “Andreev is pretty consistent too.” Despite his name, he was from Canada.

“Dillon is ahead of me, and Berntsson is behind me,” I noted. Dillon was the other US skater, and Berntsson was from Sweden. Rumor had it that Berntsson had hooked up with Will when we were in Norway a couple of years ago. Will had really pissed me off when he’d gone total slut on me at Hamar, but thinking back about it, it really didn’t seem like a big deal. Maybe that’s because I was as horny now as he was then.

“Both of those guys are chokers,” she said. “Dillon is a threat, because he’s good, but he’s not as consistent. Berntsson is even worse. He has a hard time kicking ass at both the short program and the long program.”

“Let’s hope this isn’t one of the times he does,” I grumbled. We sat there, watching the other skaters, and when Berntsson came up, I felt myself getting pretty tense, even though I plastered a blank stare on my face. I did that mostly so people wouldn’t be able to tell if I was happy if someone else fucked up, because I usually was. They didn’t call this a competition for nothing.

Berntsson started out alright, but he wasn’t into his program. It felt flat from the time he made his first jump, until the time when he ended his performance. I sat impassively as his scores were posted, even though I was secretly happy that he’d done so badly. He’d been the guy trailing me, but I didn’t have to worry about him anymore. Even if I did just OK on the long program, I’d almost certainly get to keep my fourth place standing. Only that wasn’t good enough for me, or for any of us. Nothing short of standing on the podium at the end, of winning Gold, Silver, or Bronze, would be an acceptable outcome.

Then it was time for my group to go out there. I went out and warmed up with Davydov, Andreev, and Dillon, but we didn’t talk to each other. I wasn’t friends with any of them. Instead, I practiced my moves, trying to keep my mind rooted on what I was doing. I had to concentrate, and totally focus, because if I didn’t, I’d fuck up, and possibly even fall, and that would be horrible. After 9-11, I’d been such a mess it had affected my skating, and I’d ended up bombing for almost the whole season. It had been awful, because other skaters would smirk at me, and talk about me behind my back. It had even gotten to the point where the judges had started giving me bad scores just because they thought I sucked, not because I actually did. Finally in the latter part of the season, I’d gotten my shit together and really ratcheted up my game, to the point that when the season was over, I’d managed to recover at least some of my reputation.

This was the opening event for my 2002-2003 season, and what I did here would set the tone for everything that followed. Everyone was wondering if the first part of last year had been the real Jeremy Schluter, while the second part, where I’d done better, was an aberration. If I fucked this up, they’d all decide that it was, and I’d have to write this season off as another rebuilding effort. My scores would suck, and I’d have a hard time staying upbeat. I’d be even bitchier than I normally was.

I desperately needed to focus, to have my head in this game, but even as I labored over the consequences of not doing that, my eyes scanned the stadium, looking for Alex. He said he’d be here, and from what Wade said, he was the kind of guy who, if he made a promise, he kept it. Still, it was still possible that something had happened to fuck up his trip here. He couldn’t be blamed if the fucking plane broke down.

I skated over to talk to Tiffany. “JJ, you’re not focusing,” she said, scolding me like I was seven.

“I’ll be fine,” I said dismissively. Our warm up ended, and we got off the ice, even as the Zamboni came out and resurfaced it. As soon as it was done, I would be up. I watched as it cleaned off the ice, taking away the ruts me and the other skaters had dug into it, and I watched as it made its way off the ice, with the crews using shovels to get the last bit of the shavings out of the way. Alex still wasn’t here. I felt my heart sink, even as I got myself ready to go on the ice.

Just as I was about to step onto the ice, I heard his magical, sexy voice. “I made it on time, but just barely. Good luck!”

I turned back and smiled at him. “Thanks!”

Now I was stoked. Now I was performing not just for me, not just for Tiffany, but for Alex. I went onto the ice knowing that I’d kick ass. The music started, and I felt my body moving automatically in perfect time to my choreographed routine. When I was having a bad time, my mind was always just able to grasp what I was doing at that moment. It was like it couldn’t catch up. But when I was on my game, like I was now, my body was doing what it was supposed to do, while my mind was already moving ahead to the next maneuver. The smile that was pasted on my face wasn’t fake, it was real, because I was kicking ass and I knew it. I nailed every one of my jumps, and managed to do the rest of my program gracefully as well. I ended right on time, with a bow in the center of the ice.

The applause was so loud it was almost deafening; it was as loud as it had been for Davydov yesterday. I skated over to the kiss and cry, to find Tiffany waiting for me, smiling from ear to ear. I glanced up in the stands to see Alex smiling too, smiling proudly even as he clapped enthusiastically. I winked at him, and then focused on Tiffany. “You were incredible,” she said. “That was one of your best performances.”

“Thanks,” I said. “Everything just seemed to click.”

“That and you had your lucky mascot with you,” she said, glancing over at Alex.

I was in too good a mood to let her annoy me. “Can’t let His Lordship down,” I joked. Then we got serious as my scores were posted, and they were good, really good. There was actually a chance that I could win this thing.

I did the obligatory interview, and then went to sit by Alex. We watched the other skaters together, and I commented on their moves for him. I was having a really good time, especially when Dillon’s score was posted, and it put him behind me. At least I’d beaten him. Then Andreev was up, and he did pretty well, but not enough to pass me up. “JJ, you’ll at least get silver,” Tiffany said enthusiastically.

“That is truly amazing,” Alex said. “I am so proud of you.”

“Thanks,” I said, and I began to hope that Davydov would somehow flub things up. If I won gold, Alex would really be impressed. I was on edge through his whole performance, watching and hoping desperately that he’d do something wrong, but he didn’t. When his scores were posted, I’d done better than him in the long program, but not enough to pass him up. He got gold, and I got silver. Alex gave me a hug and told me that I had impressed him, and promised to come see me skate at the New England Regionals. If he did that, it was almost better than taking gold here.

 

September 7, 2002

Chicago

 

Brad

 

“What do you want to do tonight?” I asked Cam.

“I have to work until ten,” he said. “Why don’t we go dancing tonight?”

“Dancing?” I hadn’t done that for a long time.

“Yeah. Meet me at Spartacus after work and we can stay there tonight,” he said.

“I can do that,” I said. I needed to pack up my things to go back tomorrow anyway, so it wasn’t a big deal to stay down there tonight.

“I need to go home,” he said. “I have to get clothes for work and for Spartacus.”

“Sounds good,” I said, and gave him a nice kiss goodbye. I showed him out the door, and then got a little frustrated. With school and work, he was pretty busy. Ironically enough, that left me with a lot of time, and I’d actually been amazingly productive. I’d cleared my backlog of companies to evaluate, and had probably been more engaged with Caruthers & Schluter than I had in quite a while. While that was good, and Stef and Luke certainly appreciated my efforts, it didn’t really leave much time for me to spend with Cam. I hadn’t realized how busy his life was. He was pretty organized, and he’d distilled his schedule so that after school, work, and hockey; he had about three hours of spare time each day. I internally slapped myself for being just a little bit high maintenance, and for my inner whining. Cam was working his ass off to get through school; I should be applauding him, not bitching.

I poured myself a gin and tonic and went out onto the balcony, gazing off at the horizon that was Lake Michigan. My internal bitchiness was just a symptom of the problem I was facing. Things had been idyllic for the past week; pretty much perfect until yesterday. We’d gone to bed for an afternoon interlude before Cam had to work, and we’d done the same thing we’d been doing: we frotted and blew each other. It was nice, but I was ready to take it to the next level. I desperately wanted to sink my cock into his sweet ass. I’d been overcome with lust, and I’d started really working his hole, first with my tongue, then with my fingers, and just when I was ready to go for it, he turned around and knelt over me, and jacked himself off instead.

I probably should have talked to him about it, but I was just a little freaked out that I was having these really strange experiences, first with Kevin, and now with Cam. It wasn’t a mistake; he’d consciously made himself cum to avoid having to fuck me. Part of me felt bad for pushing him, but at the same time, we had connected pretty well. In the end, I’d decided that we hadn’t been together all that long, and that some patience was in order, even though it certainly wasn’t one of my virtues.

But after that attempted fuck, things seemed to change between us. It was almost like a spell was broken, only that was a pretty bad analogy. I didn’t not like Cam, I still liked him, I just wasn’t going nuts over him. Interestingly enough, he seemed to feel the same way. It was like we suddenly looked at each other and backed up a bit. I decided that it was probably a good idea that I was flying home tomorrow.

I packed up my stuff, and caught a cab down to Spartacus, then got settled in. This apartment was truly amazing. I was tempted to just go relax on the deck, but I decided to go for a walk around Boystown instead. It was a very relaxing day, where I’d just stroll along and stop occasionally for a drink, or to shop, or to eat. I thought back to how Robbie and I had gone up to San Francisco in 1980. We’d gone to the Castro, expecting to see gay people acting like straight people, and living their lives pretty much the same way. That had been a rude awakening, because it had been nothing like that at all. But here I was, some twenty-two years later, and this neighborhood was a lot like I’d expected the Castro to be in 1980. I capped off my relaxing day by having a nice nap, and a nice dinner.

And so it was that I found myself sitting up on the deck at 10:30, wondering where Cam was. I’d assumed that he’d come upstairs to the apartment to change. I looked at my phone, and there were no messages, so I decided to go ahead and check out Spartacus. To be honest, the whole bar/club scene made me pretty uncomfortable. I was going to be forty in a month, and that seemed too fucking old to be hanging out with these young guys and their young bodies. I’d feel like I’d walked into one of Darius’ or Will’s parties, where everyone was looking at me, wondering what the fuck I was doing there. I hadn’t gone down to Spartacus at night once since I’d gotten here, much less on a Friday night.

The doors to the elevator opened, surprising two guys who were standing in front of it. “What is that?” one of the guys asked.

“It’s an elevator,” I said. Seemed pretty obvious to me.

“Whatever,” he said, and turned his back on me. I shook my head at my lack of social grace in this environment, and how I was acting like JJ. This place was really packed. I walked up to the bar and Devon spotted me and gave me a big smile, transforming my whole mood. Devon was pretty stoic, so if you got even a small grin from him, you were doing really well. To have him give me a big smile and come over to get me a drink raised some eyebrows around the bar.

“Welcome,” he said. “Gin and tonic?”

“You remembered,” I said with a grin. He’d made me a couple of drinks when we’d been down here in the afternoon, but I was impressed he could recall that.

“I remember drinks for guys I like,” he said, winking at me. “Your son drinks vodka on the rocks.”

“He’s pretty hardcore,” I joked, getting a chuckle from Devon. I turned away from the bar and checked out the dance floor. There were some go-go dancers, just like they had in Queer as Folk’s Babylon. They were pretty hot, and not a little intimidating with their youth and their muscles. I stood there, taking in the whole scene, and I was kind of disappointed that no one asked me to dance. One minute I’m down; the next minute I’m up, courtesy of Devon; and now I’m down again. I had a philosophical moment, wondering if that was my destiny, and that was what my life was going to be like. Was I like Sisyphus, only in my case, instead of pushing a rock up the hill; I was damned to ride an emotional roller coaster?

I’d shaken off my latest bad mood when I spotted Cam on the dance floor. I looked at my phone again, and he hadn’t called. We had planned to meet here at 10:00, so it’s not like he’d done anything wrong, but it was weird that he didn’t even try to track me down. I watched him as he danced with another guy who was probably the same age that he was. They laughed and joked, and had an easy camaraderie. It wasn’t like that when we were together. With us, it was more serene. I wondered if he thought I was boring. That whole concept flowed over me like another wave of depression. I felt so incredibly old and out of place. I didn’t belong here, but the emotion was stronger than that. I almost felt claustrophobic in the bar, and had an overwhelming desire to escape.

I tossed a $20 bill on the counter, nodded at Devon, then went out back to the deck, which was quieter. It was crowded too, but I managed to find a place off in the corner, and the noise was just muted enough to make it feasible for me to call the pilots. I was lucky that they hadn’t gone out tonight. I arranged to meet them at Meigs in an hour.

Just then Cam and his dancing partner came out onto the deck. “Dude, that was hilarious!” Cam said, talking about some prior part of their conversation. Then he looked up and saw me, and froze. “Hey!”

“Hey there,” I said.

“Did you just get here?”

“I came down and had a drink,” I said. “I was going to track you down, but I had a phone call.” The other guy was looking at us curiously, wondering what the deal was with us.

“This your dad?” the guy with him asked. He hadn’t asked the question in a sarcastic way, which actually made it worse. He wasn’t giving me shit; he actually thought I was Cam’s father. Even if I hadn’t been having an absolutely shitty time at this bar, that question was the death blow. It was now unbearable.

“No,” Cam snapped at him.

“I have to fly back to California. I just called the pilots, and I’m meeting them in an hour.”

“What kind of airline are you flying on? Like you can call up and have pilots just fire up a plane for you,” the other guy said, laughing at his own joke.

“It’s a Gulfstream, dumbshit, so as a matter of fact, you can do that,” Cam said to him, finally shutting him up. “Is everything alright?”

“Everything’s fine,” I said. “I just need to get back. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“I had a nice week,” he said. “Thanks for staying in Chicago with me.”

“I had a good time too,” I said. I wrapped my arms around his waist, and he wrapped his hands around my neck, and gave me an amazing kiss, one that reminded me why I stayed here with him in the first place. I finally broke it off.

“I’ll see you.” And with that, I walked over to the elevator, went up and changed out of my club clothes, packed up the rest of my stuff, and hailed a cab for the airport. The pilots were waiting for me. “I’m sorry to pull you guys out of Chicago on a Friday night.”

“That’s fine, Mr. Schluter,” the captain said pleasantly. “This way we get to spend Saturday at home.”

“I’ll try to stay put for at least a day,” I joked. I buckled in, and we got clearance to take off. I looked at my watch, and it was just midnight. As the G-V’s wheels left the ground, the emotion I felt the most was relief.

 

September 8, 2002

Escorial

 

I’d managed to make it back to Escorial and sneak down to my room without running into anyone. I didn’t even know if the staff was aware that I was back. It was incredibly satisfying to be able to all but vanish. I lounged in bed, having a languorous morning, until hunger finally drove me to get up. I took a shower, got dressed, and headed to the kitchen, just as the big grandfather clock gonged out eleven times. Stef, JP, and Darius were there. Stef and JP were there to chat, while Darius was on my schedule, and he was there to eat.

“Good morning,” Stef said. “When did you get back?”

“Late last night,” I said.

“You are back early,” he said.

“I am,” I said, hoping that would be enough, but knowing it wouldn’t be.

“Did you ask Cam what he was planning to do today?” Stef joked, referring to my strange encounter with Kevin, and making me laugh.

“No. It was weird.”

“Weird?” JP asked.

“We had a great week. It was really nice. Cam went to school and work, while I stayed in the condo and got a lot of my own projects done. When he was done, we’d go out to eat or go see a show, or just hang out.”

“It sounds like domestic bliss,” Stef said.

“Sounds boring,” Darius said, the first time he’d spoken. I hadn’t even been sure he was paying attention.

“On Thursday afternoon, we were in bed, and we hadn’t fucked yet.” Darius gave me an annoyed look, because he didn’t like hearing about man sex. “I’d been working him, and it seemed like we were about to go for it, then he stopped and jacked off instead.”

“Maybe he wasn’t ready for that level of commitment,” JP said.

“Maybe not, but we’d spent the whole week together, and we’d been pretty fucking happy,” I said. “Then we went to Spartacus last night.”

“That was not fun?” Stef asked.

“It was horrible. I’ve never felt so old in my entire life. I kept thinking it was like showing up at one of your parties,” I said to Darius. “Cam was dancing with some guy, and he thought I was Cam’s father.”

“Ouch,” Darius said.

“It was like we did so well until Thursday, then all of a sudden we were moving apart,” I said, shaking my head. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just not ready for this dating thing.”

“You’re trying too hard,” Darius said. “You’re forcing it.”

“What?” I asked.

“You’re like Will used to be, where you meet a guy, and you want to marry him. You’re like a 14-year-old dude,” he said. JP was trying hard not to laugh, while Stef actually did. I was glad that Will wasn’t here. He’d have really busted me up about that.

“I met this guy; there was this amazing connection, so I spent time with him to see if it would work out. What’s wrong with that?”

Darius rolled his eyes at me. “You’re too easy. You’re like a slut.”

“I am not a slut,” I said firmly. It bothered me that Stef and JP were enjoying this so much.

“Here’s the deal,” he said. “You go too fast, so you’re all in. You don’t have time to get to know each other, because it’s too intense.”

“Isn’t that what you’re supposed to do?”

“You drink water from a glass and you like it,” he said. “You drink it from a fire hose, not so much.”

“Alright,” I said, turning the tables on him. “When you start dating a girl, you do that. You spend a lot of time with her.”

“A weekend, max,” he said. “Any more and you make it cheap. Any less and you’re not giving her enough attention.”

“Did you not spend more time than that with Mary Ellen?” Stef asked.

I expected him to bullshit us, but he didn’t. “Yep. Broke the rule. And it ended.”

“Are you suggesting that by paying too much attention to someone during the initial stages of a courtship, it makes you seem desperate?” JP asked.

“That’s what I’m saying,” Darius said. “Austin does that too. He has this problem because he dates these chicks, totally gets into them, they think he’s in love with them, and then he starts to find all these things about her that he doesn’t like, and he ends it. Only because she thought she was a big deal to him, she’s pissed, and she hates him.”

“It does not leave room for a friendship to spawn after the romantic relationship wanes,” JP said. Stef and I looked at each other, trying not to giggle at his rhetorical style.

“That’s right,” Darius said. “You ruin the friendship.”

“Do you think you did that with Cam?” Stef asked.

“I don’t think so,” I said. “There was no animosity when I left, and shit, he may not even know that things are pretty much going nowhere with us.”

“You know when he works?” Darius asked. I nodded. “Call him and leave him a message, telling him you had a kick ass time, and that you made it back safely. Call him when he’s at work.”

“I don’t want to talk to him?” I asked, confused.

“No, you don’t. You left him the message, and you were polite. If it ends on that note, that’s cool, and there’s no major weirdness when you see him again. You can be casual friends. If he wants more, he’ll call you back.”

“This is a lot more complicated than it used to be,” I grumbled.

“Perhaps you are just lucky that you found someone, and didn’t have to deal with this before,” JP said.

“I guess that’s why I thought this thing with Cam was so good. I had almost the same feeling I did when I saw Robbie for the first time,” I said. It amazed me that I could think about that and still be happy. I wondered how I’d do next week at the memorial.

“Because you’re forcing it,” Darius said. “You want it to happen. You want that feeling, so you force it when it isn’t there.”

“You are a veritable love doctor,” Stef said to him. That was funny enough to make JP and me laugh. But even though I was laughing, I could see that he was right. Will had always made a big deal about Darius’ virtual command of ‘the game’. Maybe he was right.

“Doctor Love,” Darius said. “That’s me.”

“So tell me, Doctor Love, what are you doing up here?”

“I thought I’d come up and visit before the quarter started,” he said. He was going to UCLA. “And I thought I’d hang out with Will for a couple of days.”

“You’re worried about him,” I accused.

“I’m not worried about him,” Darius said. “It’s just that this is going to be tough for him, adapting to being back in school without Zach around. I thought I’d cheer him up. Plus I can fly out with you guys to the memorial.”

“That’s the day after tomorrow,” I said, almost to myself.

“We have been invited to attend a ceremony in Battery Park on the 11^th,” Stef said. “Mayor Bloomberg will light an eternal flame, and there are going to be several dignitaries there.”

“That sounds fine,” I said, even though it didn’t. I wasn’t sure that I wanted to be around a bunch of foreign dignitaries when I was grappling with remembering those fucking attacks.

“We fly to Washington, DC the next morning for the dedication of a memorial to the victims of the Pentagon attack,” JP said. That would be tough on Wade. We were going to that one to give him some moral support.

“I can work with that,” Darius said.

“Did you hear that JJ did very well in Germany?” Stef asked.

“I didn’t,” I said, and was annoyed at myself for not checking.

“He won the silver,” Stef said.

“That’s fantastic!” I said. “He’s certainly turned his career around.”

“Yes he has,” Stef agreed.

“It’s not like him to not call us when he does so well,” I said. JJ usually was on the phone, letting us all know when he had placed in a competition. If he didn’t at least win the bronze, we didn’t hear from him.

“JJ is so into the Earl he forgot to call us,” Darius said, shaking his head.

“JJ has a crush on Alex?” Stef asked.

“Duh,” Darius said.

“I knew that JJ got along with him really well when he visited, but I didn’t think he was romantically attracted to Alex,” I said.

“Alex went to JJ’s competition in Germany, and he medaled,” Darius said, as if that were the reason JJ won. “Alex is flying back with them, he’s moving into Wade’s house and staying in the room across from JJ’s, and he’s doing that because that’s the way JJ set it up.”

“I’m not sure that JJ being involved with Alex is a good idea,” I said. I’d worried about Will, but he was a lot tougher and much more savvy when it came to dating.

“I’m not sure that it makes a damn bit of difference what you think,” Darius said. I glared at him. “You going to do this again? You didn’t learn from Will?”

“Learn what?” I demanded.

“To stay out of his love life.”

“I didn’t say I was going to interfere, I said I was worried,” I said, even though I had thought about trying to put some distance between the two of them.

“I think that when you can actually date a dude for a whole month, then you can give JJ advice on how to deal with Alex,” Darius said, making JP and Stef laugh. I ultimately saw the humor in it too.

“Fine,” I said. I decided to go work out, assuming that would help me hold my own the next time I was in Spartacus. I looked at my watch, calculated the time in Chicago, and called Cam. I left him a message just as Darius had suggested. I wondered if he’d call me back.