Jumping Over My Mountain - 5. Chapter 5

Jumping Over My Mountain
by Tiffani Chin

Chapter 5

---------------------------------------------

*************Helaku*************

I stared at the calendar in my bedroom.

May 12th.

The day when Crew left me to go off to California for four months with a guy he claimed was just his best friend.

I imagined him getting onto the plane; some guy would smile and start talking to him on the ride.

I missed him. I realized I had made a major mistake by cheating on Crew. I could tell Crew was one of the good guys, something precious you didn't find everyday in today's world.

So Crew wasn't open about his past; he had so many other wonderful qualities that I had failed to fully appreciate before it was too late.

Crew was hardworking, honest, caring, loving, funny, smart, adorable, beautiful, ugh, the list goes on!

I screwed it up so easily because I was mad and we had one little fight.

I wanted to give Crew space and time to calm down. It was harder than I thought to get in touch with him, though. He was always so busy and he seemed even busier than usual. I think maybe he was avoiding me. I rarely saw him around the twins’ place like I used to before. Hell, I barely saw the twins either, or should I say Storm. Skyler still wasn't talking to me.

Crew going to California. I shook my head. That thought worried me. Crew going to California, meeting new people, new men. Crew was a great catch, any idiot could see that.

"Except myself," I muttered, falling backwards onto my bed and covering my eyes with my hands.

I just lay there on my bed in silence, not really thinking about anything specific, just feeling down, and overall lost in my thoughts.

I let out a huge cry and after that I actually felt a little bit better.

I sat up and decided I needed to make a change. Whenever I was feeling down, I always wanted to make a drastic change.

I remember in high school I got in a fight with a friend. We weren't talking to each other, so I went to the nearest hair salon and bleached my entire head of hair.

It was the worst decision of my life.

A Native American with white blond hair? That just didn't fly. I kept it until some roots began to show and then I dyed it back to dark brown.

Yet I knew that I really needed a change now; this situation was calling for it.

Crew did something random; he just picked up and left to go to another state for the summer. Not just any state, but a state across the country! You couldn’t get any further than that. Crew was obviously moving on with his life, or choosing to forget about me.

I didn't want to forget about Crew, but it would be a good idea to move on rather than pine for someone who no longer cared for me.

So here I was. I had practically four months of summer with nothing to do except bartend, which I used to love but, was increasingly beginning to hate.

Every time some guy hit on me at the bar, I was reminded of my one night of weakness. If I had only turned down that Brandon person, Crew and I would still have been together.

As a result, I turned down every guy that ever asked me out. I had to dodge some quizzical looks from my fellow bartender, Kay, who was well aware of my flirtatious behavior and knew I was no longer with Crew.

I jumped up when an idea hit me.

"That's it!"

I grabbed my cell and dialed a very familiar number.

"Hey Dad," I said when the line picked up. "I've decided you're right. Bartending is a dead end. I want a job."

******************

"Dude, what is your deal?" I snapped while I was getting coffee in the kitchen at the advertising agency where I had recently gotten hired.

"What? I bumped into you accidentally," Bryce, a coworker, said innocently widening his blue eyes.

I glared at him and stirred some milk into my cup and then stalked away.

Unfortunately the little shit followed me since his cubicle was right next to mine.

"You know you're really a class act," Bryce said as he walked beside me.

That was it. I snapped.

I spun around to face him. Bryce wasn't prepared for that; he knocked right into me. We were so close, another inch from either one of us and we would have been kissing.

He jumped back and blinked, licking his lips nervously.

I was so pissed I didn't bother to move. I stood rooted to the spot.

"How am I a class act?" I asked mimicking his tone.

I was so fed up with Bryce Whitman. Ever since my first day here he had been cold and rude. He ignored me when I was in the same room with a bunch of people.

I wish he still ignored me.

Now it was the second week of June, three weeks after my first day. He still made a point to always throw some nasty comment at me or to accidentally push me. In fact, he was always around me- in my face -in some form or another. It was getting annoying. In my opinion I hadn't done anything to warrant the unwanted attention.

If there was a God, I prayed he would strike down this shit head in front of me. I squeezed my eyes shut.

I opened them. Damn it! No such luck.

"You're such a stuck-up kid," Bryce started.

Bryce always made it a point to call me kid even though, at 26, he was only four years older than me. It was his way of trying to belittle me, to make me feel inferior or something. It didn't work.

"You walk your cocky ass around here, just because your Uncle owns this company. You didn't have to do any work or interviews to get this job. I bet your major in college was nothing related to advertising or business," Bryce accused me.

I looked him straight in the eye, refusing to back down.

"Listen Whitman," I said hotly, "I majored in law and politics, which by the way, aren't easy subjects. I don't just sit around all day twiddling my thumbs until an idea comes to mind. I'm hard working. I do my share of work even if my Uncle does own this company. I graduated in three years with a 3.8 GPA. I've been on my own ever since I finished college. My Dad or anyone else for that matter has never helped me out."

Bryce opened his mouth to say something, but I wasn't done. I needed to get this out.

"Now the reason I assume you're always in my face," I said stepping closer to him, so we were eye to eye. It was easy since he was exactly my height. "It’s because ever since I came here, you’ve felt threatened. I may not have majored in business or advertising, but I'm naturally good at this stuff while you have to work twice as hard because you lack the innate capabilities. I understand your jealousy. I sympathize, I really do," I spat out sarcastically, "but if you want to improve your situation, maybe you should spend less time bothering me and more time focusing on yourself!"

Bryce's eyes were wide open and his mouth hung open slightly.

"If you're worried about losing a future promotion to me, don't worry. I'm not really looking to move up or become head honcho around here, ok? My ex-boyfriend just took off to another state, and he probably hates me now, and I'll never get back together with him, and I just needed a job to get my mind off of him!" I said. By the time I was finished, I was breathing heavily and my face felt hot, although I probably didn't appear flushed. You know, being tan and all that.

We were still standing really close to each other. Luckily, it was around lunch time. Most of the office was deserted, not to mention that our department was fairly small. We were a new addition and most of the workers were fairly young. I liked it since the atmosphere was laid back. Plus it was Friday. Who came to work on Fridays?

After a few seconds though, the blood drained from my face as I realized what I had just done.

FUCK!!!

I had just come out to the office jerk; the guy who hated me; a guy who would love to out me to everyone else, and to make my life even more miserable.

I knew I wouldn't get fired since my Uncle and Dad and all my relatives knew I was gay. While I didn't make a point to hide my sexuality from others, I didn't exactly broadcast it either. There were still many narrow-minded people who didn't want to work with homosexuals. I thought that the overall environment would remain more professional and cohesive if we didn't delve too much into our personal lives.

Now, if everyone knew, then all I needed was one homophobic bastard to get uncomfortable around me, and ruin everything. Our work wouldn't be as productive, or I would be harassed or worse, attacked and forced to resign, if I didn't die from a parking lot beating first.

I can't believe I just blurted that out.

Think before you talk Helaku. One before two. Walk before run.

Bryce was completely shocked. His blue eyes were wide open, his mouth open. His sandy, ashy blond bangs flopped over his eyes, reminding me of a child that had just seen something very bad.

"You're gay?" he asked in a shocked tone.

A pit formed in my stomach. It felt like it was burning my insides.

I was developing an ulcer at 22. Holy Jesus.

I was royally fucked now. Bryce and I just stood there, both shocked for different reasons, both not knowing how to salvage the situation.

There was only one thing I could do at this point. I may as well go out with a bang.

I socked Bryce Whitman right in his face, and watched him fall to the ground in pain.

Yeah, don't I wish?

Instead I ran.

I ran all the way to the stairs, barreled down them, and hit the parking lot deck.

I heard Bryce call out after me, but his voice slowly faded as I focused on running and getting the hell out of there.

I passed some coworkers who were coming back from lunch. They shot me confused glances, but I paid them no attention. I was on a mission here. A mission to escape. I hopped into my car and drove off.

I sighed in frustration. I couldn't do anything right.

******************

I was laying face down, my face smothered by my pillow, but I didn't bother to shift positions.

My position matched how I was feeling-suffocated, smothered, trapped.

If I pressed the pillow a little harder on my face maybe I could off myself.

Hmm.

I had sped home, thankfully without getting a speeding ticket, for I would have broken down and started bawling to the officer right then and there. I took a hot shower, hopped into bed without any clothes, and prepared to sleep for the rest of the day.

I had run into the apartment complex and almost knocked down Storm as he was heading out. I caught his concerned expression. I was touched he still cared even though we hadn't talked to each other much over the past few months. I was glad he was still there for me if I ever really needed him.

I didn't bother to talk to him though. I really wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone. I just continued into the building and up the stairs.

I was relieved once I made it inside my apartment. I felt safe there-it was my safe haven.

I panted profusely. I didn't realize I had been running so hard or maybe it was a minor panic attack.

After five minutes of still breathing hard, I realized I may have been having a major panic attack. So like in the movies, I took a brown paper bag and heave-hoed into it. After awhile I managed to calm down.

Well, now here I was in bed, not being able to sleep, just going over the events of the day in my little head. I must have been lying in bed for hours. I got home around 1:00 in the afternoon and time really flew by when you did absolutely nothing.

At some point, my brain stopped working. I no longer thought about what went wrong in my life, and how things would never get better. Instead I just stared at the white ceiling above me.

White. Why did the color white seem so beautiful all of sudden? It made me feel tranquil.

I felt my eyelids get heavy.

Finally, sleep! Let's get ready to sleep the rest of my life away. I was currently unemployed, without a boyfriend, and friendless.

I groaned in exhaustion, realizing that I would probably be barraged with phone calls from my Uncle, probably concerned, and then from my Dad, probably pissed.

Just what I needed-affirmation that I was a royal fuck-up. Not just a fuck-up, but a royal fuck-up. Yes, there was a difference between the two. Over the years, I managed to fall into both categories-in my Dad’s eyes at least.

I was about to close my eyes when a loud knocking hit my door.

Shit, who could that be?

I glanced at my cell phone to check the time. Five thirty.

Storm. Who else but Storm.

I groaned and put my hands on my face as the knocking continued some more.

I really didn't want to talk to anyone right now. My life was in the dumps. I kind of just wanted to let the black hole swallow me and never come back out. Why did people keep trying to drag me out of it? Why?

However, like the last time, I knew Storm wasn't one to give up when he had made up his mind to do something, especially helping a friend in need. That's just the type of person he was. I was normally grateful for that, but not today.

However, I knew that because of Storm's persistence, he would not go away anytime soon, or at least until I answered the door. Plus, I didn't feel like having my lock picked again.

I forgot to ask Storm where he learned to do that, but that was beside the point.

I put on some boxers since I wasn't exactly in the mood to flash Storm.

I sighed as I opened the door, rubbing my tired eyes.

"Storm, look, I appreciate your coming over here, but I don't want to talk right…" My words died on my lips when I saw who was standing at my door.

Bryce Whitman.

What the hell was going on?

I just stared at him, speechless.

There was only one thing to do in this situation. That bastard had come to my apartment to rub salt in my wounds. To tell me how everyone hated me now.

He really deserved to be hit.

But I couldn't.

I lacked the energy. I was becoming soft.

Dear God, I was becoming a woman in my refusal to dispense violence like every other red blooded American male.

I took the womanly way out. I slammed the door in his face.

The prick started banging on the door again, louder this time-and he had the nerve to sound annoyed! What the fuck was up with that? He really was a dick. No doubt.

"Helaku! Helaku, open the door!"

"Come on. Please Helaku, open the door! I just came to talk, I swear!"

A pause.

"Helaku, I came to apologize," Bryce said, his voice at a normal volume.

Apologize? Well shit, this, I had to hear.

I opened the door and looked at him expectantly.

He was looking at me expectantly, his eyes washing over me briefly.

"Can I come in?"

"No," I said immediately.

"I can't apologize in the hallway. It's a little barbaric, don't you think?" Bryce asked.

"Fine," I said stepping aside to allow him to walk through.

I closed the door, folded my arms, and waited.

Bryce turned back around to face me, but his face became flushed when he looked at my naked chest.

"Uh, can you put on a shirt or something?" he asked uncomfortably.

"Why, are you afraid you seeing me without clothes will bring out the gay in you?" I sneered. "Maybe I should take these off too," I said reaching for the waistband of my boxers.

"No!" Bryce cried out, his face blushing pretty badly at this point. "Just, please can you put something on?" he asked pleadingly.

I rolled my eyes. "Bossing me around in my own place," I muttered under my breath, but I walked into my room and chucked on some jeans and a green and white striped shirt that hugged my body.

When I returned, Bryce had made himself comfortable on my couch.

I rolled my eyes again. That smug bastard acted like he owned the place. Well, I was going to have to rectify that.

"Get up," I ordered, stopping in front of him.

"What?" he asked in confusion.

"Get up," I repeated, "you're not staying here long. Just do what you came to do, but don't get all cozy," I said.

Bryce slowly stood up and looked me in the eyes for a few seconds without saying anything.

"Well," I prompted impatiently, raising my brows, "did you come here to stare at me or did you need to say something?"

Bryce began to blush again and he averted his eyes away from mine.

What was up with this guy? Jeez, was he bipolar or something? He's so arrogant in the office and now he's a blushing, babbling idiot. What the fuck?

"I just came to say I'm sorry," he said, risking a glance at me. I still stood in front of him, expressionless, with my arms folded. "I had no right to call you those names and treat you poorly. You didn't deserve that. I was just working out some of my own issues. I guess I took it out on you, which was wrong of me," he added quickly.

"Fine," I said and then I turned around towards the door to show him out.

"Are you coming back to work on Monday?" Bryce asked, not moving from his spot near the couch.

"No," I answered, moving towards the door again.

"What? Why not?" Bryce asked, frowning.

I looked at him pointedly.

"Because of me?" Bryce whispered, looking down at the floor.

I didn't answer him, or try to lie and say it wasn't because of him. I just wanted to end this conversation, and to never see him, or anyone else for that matter, again.

I sighed heavily. "Listen Whitman, I had a really bad day and I just want to go to sleep, ok? I accept your apology. You won't have to lose any sleep over this; not that you would anyway. Just go, ok?" I asked turning to the door for the third time.

I felt Bryce's hand on my wrist. I turned to him, questioningly.

Bryce licked his lips nervously. "Listen Helaku, I didn't tell anyone you were gay, ok?"

"You didn't?" I asked, shock evident in my voice. "I thought someone like you would have gone out to buy a megaphone, and run up and down every floor to announce that tidbit of information," I spat out, narrowing my eyes.

Bryce actually looked hurt. He frowned. "I wouldn't," he said defensively.

I snorted. "You would!"

"I wouldn't!" Bryce said his voice rising.

I raised my eyebrows. "Ok, I believe you. Now I'm going to be a kind host and show you to the door," I said moving to turn.

"Well, will you come back to work now?" Bryce pressed.

I sighed. What was up with this dude?

"Probably not. My Uncle is probably mad pissed I walked out just like that. I'm not in the mood to explain my nervous breakdown. I should just resign or something."

Bryce shook his head. "No, after you left, I talked to him, said you felt violently ill, and had to leave."

"What? You did? Why did you do that?" I asked in surprise.

"I felt bad; you ran out. It was partly my fault anyway," he said shrugging.

I wanted to interject and yell, "It was entirely your fault, buddy."

"He was really understanding about it, said he hoped you would feel better, and if he had time later, he would call to check up on you," Bryce added.

"Great, so now I have to lie to him when he calls," I snapped.

Bryce looked down at the ground. I felt a little bad for snapping at him so easily. I mean, sure, it was his fault, but he had helped me out in a way. Now I didn't have to expect a phone call from my Dad, yelling at me about being a "royal fuck-up". I was actually thankful for that, but I wasn't about to let Bryce know that. Ha, no freaking way.

"Thank you," I said sincerely. Bryce looked up at me and flashed a small smile.

"By the way, how did you know where I lived?" I asked curiously.

Bryce blushed again and didn't look me in the eye. "I asked your Uncle. I said I could save him the trouble of calling since he was busy and that I would check up on you."

"Wow, you went to an awful lot of trouble to apologize to me," I said. "That's one guilty conscience you've got going on, eh?"

"So, is Storm the name of your ex?" Bryce suddenly blurted out.

"Huh?" I asked, thoroughly confused by the abrupt shift in the conversation.

"When you opened the door before, you said you didn't want to talk to a guy named…"

I interrupted him. "Oh no, Storm is a neighbor. He lives two floors down. Whenever I have a bad day, he kind of takes it upon himself to barge in on me to make me feel better. The last time he picked my lock…," I started to say, but stopped myself.

Why was I talking to this guy? He hated me. I hated him. We weren't supposed to be in the same room together. Weren't those the rules or something?

Bryce actually looked interested when I mentioned the lock picking, but I shook my head.

"You know what? Never mind. It's not relevant to anything. Uh, thanks for coming over, and apologizing, and talking to my Uncle for me," I finished lamely. I had no idea what to say anymore.

Bryce still stood there, looking at me. Would this guy ever leave? Was I going to have a squatter in my living room on a permanent basis?

"Do you want to talk about it?" Bryce asked.

Again, confusion marred my face.

"Huh?"

"Talking usually helps. If you rant about your ex, you can get over him faster, instead of keeping it all in and letting it haunt you all the time," Bryce said.

"No, I don't want to talk about it," I said stubbornly. I wasn't going to discuss Crew with this jackass. He may not have outed me, but I was still convinced he was a homophobic bastard, most likely plotting against me.

Ok, so I had become a little paranoid after my breakdown. A little paranoia never hurt anyone.

"Have dinner with me."

"Huh?" God I was an idiot.

I cleared my throat. "What?" I asked licking my lips. Yeah, that was so MUCH better.

"I haven't had dinner and I felt so bad about you before, that I didn't eat lunch. Now, I'm starving. I'm assuming you didn't eat?" Bryce asked.

"No, I haven't, but-"

"Great, come on, let's go. My treat," Bryce said.

"No, really, that's ok…" I began to say.

"Come on, please? Let me make this up to you. I obviously made your day shitty. Let me make it up to you with food and drinks, or whatever it is you like," Bryce said.

"Listen, I appreciate the offer, I do, but I kind of want to be alone and just sleep. What are you doing?" I suddenly demanded, when I saw Bryce take off his coat, loosen his tie, and sit on the couch, propping his feet on the coffee table.

"Well, I'm getting comfortable," Bryce said innocently. "You won't let me take you out. I guess I'm just going to have to stay here and make you feel better. I think it would be more effective over food, but hey, it’s your call," he said smiling.

I opened my mouth a couple of times. I couldn't find anything to say. I sputtered. I balled my fists in frustration, my face felt hot with annoyance.

"That shirt looks good on you," Bryce said.

My eyes bulged out of my head. He was complimenting me now? Had I really stepped into the twilight zone? Have I morphed into Alice and fallen down the rabbit hole? I’m clicking my heels three times. ‘Auntie, I want to go home now’.

"It really brings out the color of your eyes and goes well with your skin tone."

I gawked.

"You have really nice eyes, you know? Not many people have pure green eyes like yours," Bryce continued, smiling again.

And I gawked some more.

"So," he said, surveying the room dramatically. "Got any food or board games hanging around? It looks like it's going to be a long night."

I spun around swiftly, ran to my room, and grabbed my cell phone and wallet.

"Let's go," I announced when I reentered the living room.

Bryce got up and draped his coat over his arm. As he passed me on the way out the door, he flashed me a triumphant smile.

Smug bastard.

**************Zeke************

"Wipe out!" I called out gleefully as I watched Crew get hit with a wave. He toppled off his board and fell into the water with a splash.

Seconds later, I watched as he came sputtering up, spitting out water, and shaking his head like a dog. But he had a huge smile on his face, so all was well.

He waved to me. I waved back as I watched him jump back out to catch the next approaching wave.

I smiled; Crew and I were having so much fun. Especially Crew. I was grateful for that grinning face. I cared more about his fun than mine at this point. The melancholy, overworked boy that left Jersey was no longer there. Instead he was replaced with a guy who surfed and never stopped laughing.

It was such a refreshing change. We owed it all to the beautiful location.

After our first day here, we fell into a pretty good routine.

We bagged jobs at a fairly decent restaurant downtown, and worked there every night.

Every morning we went jogging on the beach. We surfed everyday after our run, and didn’t stop until we had to head in to work. Every Saturday, we went grocery shopping. Every Sunday, we did laundry.

It was a monotonous routine, but we loved it. There was no real work, no responsibility-just fun, fun, and well, more fun. That's what life should be about.

I watched Crew catch another large wave. This time he rode it out without falling, and he made it to the shore line and pumped his fist in the air.

I chuckled and pumped my fist in the air in return, so he knew I had been watching. I was giving him his props.

Although I was having a blast, I was still a little bummed, but I made sure to hide it well from Crew.

In the back of my mind, I always had Skyler in my thoughts. For some reason, my "relationship" with him was bothering me.

I would have liked us to be more than just corresponding buddies. We obviously liked each other as more than friends, but we didn't have a specific commitment.

I was worried I would miss my chance with him if I waited too long. Things were just not timing out well. This summer was shot and then when the semester started again, it would be another four months without seeing him much. That was eight months in total. Could we still like each other that much in eight months? I knew I could like him, if not love him, forever. But did he feel the same way?

Hopefully, over winter break we could spend more time together, like at the last break. That is if he wasn't dating someone by that point.

The idea of him dating anyone--male or female--bummed me out. But I didn't want to demand a relationship from Skyler when deep down I knew it wasn't realistic. This was college. We were young. We were supposed to go out, have a good time, and meet new people. I didn't want to inhibit Skyler's experience. I knew he felt the same way for me.

This was just a big mess.

I wondered if he was thinking of me.

A couple of times when Crew and I went downtown to hang out, we met some guys, but I made sure nothing ever happened. I didn't want Crew or myself to do something we would later regret.

Sometimes I even pretended Crew and I were together so people would just back off.

I wondered if Skyler was hanging out with anyone lately. My stomach clenched at the idea. Skyler was really popular and outgoing; he had tons of friends and admirers. It seemed like he made a new friend on a daily basis. I wouldn't be surprised if there were gay guys before me or even after me who crushed on Skyler.

The only question was whether or not Skyler would like them back. I prayed to God he wouldn’t.

My thoughts were interrupted by cold wet drops dripping on my skin which was warm from the sun.

"Crew, you were awesome," I said before looking up.

"Oh sorry," I said when I realized it was not Crew. "I thought you were someone else."

"No problem," the guy said, and then he sat down beside me, rather closely in my opinion.

"Um, can I help you with something?" I asked.

"Nah, I was just watching you and your friend surf," he said nodding in the direction of Crew. "You guys are pretty good," he added, "Been surfing long?"

"No, actually for only about two months. We're visiting," I said.

"Oh, where from?" he asked.

"New Jersey."

"That's a long way," he commented.

"I'm staying at my Aunt's place," I answered.

"Right on," he said. "I'm Chad by the way," he said sticking out his hand for me to shake.

"Zeke."

"Is he your brother?" Chad asked. I assumed he was talking about Crew.

"No, he's my best friend from high school," I said.

Chad paused. "Well my buddies and I are having a little get together tonight. You two should stop by."

I looked over and found him staring at me intently. I had a feeling that this invitation wasn't so innocent. Not with the way he was looking at me like he wanted to eat me.

I studied him. He was a good looking guy. A typical surfer dude, although people might say the same about Crew and me.

Chad was tall and lean and his sun bleached blond hair was around chin length. He had nice blue eyes and a friendly smile.

Sadly, I wasn't interested in him.

Yes, I was single.

Sadly though, I was interested in someone else.

Woe is me.

I just smiled and nodded. "We'll see. We usually work, but if we feel up to it we'll stop by," I answered.

Chad grinned. He gave me the address and one last lingering look and then walked away.

I shook my head once he was gone. Was I an idiot?

A good looking guy hits on me and I'm turning him down for what?

I groaned inwardly. Damn it. I hated drama. I avoided drama like the plague and yet it had somehow found me.

Skyler. Mmm. I closed my eyes and let the warmth of the sun wash over me.

Suddenly a beep interrupted my thoughts.

I checked my cell phone. I had received a text from Skyler. I smiled.

It simply said `for you'.

I was confused for a second until I got a picture text.

It showed Skyler's face with his eyes crossed and his pointer finger aimed at his temple.

It was followed by another text message: me thinking of you.

Another picture message: Skyler pulling his shirt up, showing off his defined abs.

Text message: I bet you're thinking of me now. Me sexy.

I chuckled and shook my head. Skyler was always able to make me laugh.

Picture message: Skyler's eyes closed and lips pursed.

Text message: Miss you lots!

I shook my head and grinned uncontrollably.

I quickly texted Skyler back: I'm always thinking of you. You are, of course, ridiculously sexy. I miss you like crazy.

Sent.

Picture text from Skyler: Him smiling with him giving me the thumbs up sign.

I noticed Crew jogging up to me a little out of breath.

"What's so funny?" he asked.

"Nothing."

I was worried for nothing. Skyler still thought of me and I knew he cared about me. Skyler was one of those people who were so great that you would be willing to take a chance on him or wait for him for as long as it took.

I shook my head and smiled at Crew's curious expression.

"Absolutely nothing."

*************Helaku*************

"The potato skins are pretty good," Bryce said, sipping his coke.

I narrowed my eyes at Bryce. He seemed so happy and carefree over this dinner. What happened to the guy who despised me? I really hoped he would return soon so I could get this night over with.

"Aren't you going to look at your menu?" he asked in amusement.

"I don't get you," I said suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Bryce asked.

"Well, you're crazy man. You hate me from the minute I start working at

McAdams INK. Now you're all buddy buddy. That just doesn't make sense,"

I said.

"I never said I hated you," Bryce said carefully.

"You could have fooled me," I retorted. Bryce sighed.

"Listen, I'm sorry, ok. I didn't mean to get on your back like that. It's just that when you came along it was a shock, ok? You were really good at the ideas and marketing strategies. Everyone liked your ideas and you got along with everyone else. It was just hard for me to take," Bryce explained.

I smirked. "Afraid I was going to knock you down the social ladder?"

"I was immature I know, but I couldn't help it. You don't know what kind of pressure my Dad puts on me for everything," Bryce said looking frustrated.

I paused. "I know a little about that," I sympathized. "My Uncle may be cool, but my Dad definitely is not."

Bryce gave me a little smile.

"I worked like crazy to graduate early, summer school, winter sessions, and the maximum credit load so I could have that extra year to explore something I really wanted to do," I said. "I only majored in law and politics because that’s what my Dad wanted. It wasn't terrible because I’m pretty good at it, but it's not what I really wanted to do," I said.

"What did you want to do?" Bryce asked.

"You probably think this is dumb, but I wanted to paint," I said looking down.

"That's not dumb," Bryce said seriously.

"Yeah, I always wanted to paint. I loved it. Having a blank paper and then creating something out of nothing. It's a great feeling, loving that end product."

"Do you still paint?" Bryce asked me.

I shook my head. "No, not really anymore. I kind of stopped in college after all the hassling my Dad gave me about finding something real to do instead of some childish hobby."

"My Dad is real happy I quit bartending and finally landed a real job that I'm pretty decent at," I added bitterly.

"You bartended?"

"I used to. I quit and got this job. I couldn't possibly do both," I said.

"Why'd you quit?"

"I used to love bartending, but then it started reminding me of what I did to Crew," I said.

"Crew?" Bryce asked.

"My ex," I elaborated.

"What did you do to him?"

I looked at Bryce. "I don't want to talk about it. Let's just say that I needed a job change and that's where I came in at McAdams Ink."

"I can tell you were a good bartender," Bryce suddenly said.

"How?" I asked curiously.

"Because of your mannerisms. You're very relaxed and easy going in large groups and you have no problems striking a conversation randomly, or telling jokes. You're a people person and people just flock to you. It makes sense you would be into nightlife."

"I've never been into social scenes. I'm just very awkward. My Dad pressured me non-stop and always had me doing these after school activities that I really didn't care for. He said that it would supposedly ‘help me later on in life’," Bryce said somewhat bitterly. "I missed out on all the ‘normal kid’ things."

"What kind of activities did you do?" I asked curiously.

"Well my Dad believed in being well rounded. So on top of advanced courses in school, he made me play basketball and lacrosse and pushed me to try to make Varsity early. Then after school I had language tutoring, piano lessons, joined the debate team, not to mention community service. When I turned 16, I started a part-time job. He even started my SAT training when I was thirteen."

"Wow," I said. I was amazed. I thought I had it bad.

"I never had time to do anything," Bryce continued. "I just kept going and going, trying to get prefect grades, be the best athlete, get high SAT scores. It was overwhelming me but I did it all to make my Dad proud. Sometimes I think he is, but sometimes I'm not so sure," Bryce said in a soft tone.

"I'm sure he is," I reassured. "If you were my kid and did half of what you did, I'd be damned proud."

Bryce smiled faintly. "I didn't go to prom because my Dad wouldn't let me off of work."

I frowned.

"I didn't date either. I never had time. I got along with my teammates and whatever, but I never had time to bond or get together with them outside of practice or games. I was just this guy who they saw as good, but never really knew. It was very lonely," Bryce said quietly.

Ok, I was getting uncomfortable now. What was I supposed to say? I barely knew the guy.

"I don't think I had one real friend at all. And now I still have trouble making friends, even at work. I'm just messed up," Bryce said bitterly. "It doesn't matter if I can play basketball and lacrosse, or play the piano with my eyes closed, or if I have money coming out of my ass; none of it matters if I have no one to share it with."

"Then in college, I was so busy with my classes, having to stay on the

Dean's list, and join honor societies that I never had time to enjoy any of the recreational things university had to offer. My life sucked," he continued.

I desperately scanned the restaurant. You didn't know desperation until there was some dude you barely knew spilling his thoughts and feelings to you. I may have been gay but these emotional talks still made me antsy.

Where was our damn waiter?

Bryce looked at me. "That's why I went psycho on you when you started working at the company. I wanted to get ahead and you were just so good at everything," he said, running his fingers through his hair. His blond strands were so silky that they immediately flopped back over his forehead.

"I wanted to move ahead in the company and make my Dad happy, but I guess I was stupid. I don't think he would ever be happy or proud," he said in a lost tone.

"We should order soon," I blurted out, whipping out my menu.

Bryce blinked and reentered the land of the living.

"Yeah," he said looking at his menu again. I felt his eyes darting to me but I refused to meet them.

God, this evening was becoming even more awkward. I didn’t know how that was possible, but it was.

The waiter finally came and took our order.

Thank the Lord. I swear I heard the hallelujah chorus.

"I'll have the nachos as an appetizer," he said.

Appetizers?

Motherfucker, I wanted to go home!

"For the main meal, the chicken club sandwich." He handed his menu over to the waiter.

The waiter looked at me. "Uh, I'll have the mozzarella sticks to start and a chicken Caesar salad," I said fumbling for the words. I handed him my menu as well.

The waiter left to place our order and I was once again left in a very weird silence with Bryce.

Bryce was, of course, staring at me intently. He sure liked to stare. Didn’t he know it was rather rude to stare so much?

"You should paint if it makes you happy," Bryce said.

I blinked at the new topic change. He did that often--changing topics.

"Yeah, well maybe."

"Are you any good?" he asked.

I smirked. "Of course."

Bryce grinned. "Will you paint me something sometime?" he asked.

I was surprised. What an odd request.

I considered telling him no.

"Uh, sure," I said instead.

Why? I have no fucking clue.

Bryce seemed pleased and his mood visibly lifted.

"So are you any good at basketball?" I asked.

He seemed surprised, but recovered quickly. "Of course. I did letter freshman year," he said smugly.

I rolled my eyes and clapped mockingly. He laughed heartily.

"Well, um, do you want to, um maybe, you know, uh, you want to play together sometime? I mean basketball that is?" I asked hesitantly, not really knowing why I was asking to spend even more time with him. I guess I felt sorry for him. Or I could relate to him on some level.

Bryce's eyebrows shot up quickly and I was regretting my question.

He just seemed so lonely and in need of some company. And nowadays my friends weren't exactly overflowing since I was on the outs with the twins, well sort of, and Crew detested me, and I practically cut off all ties with my bartending buddies.

Bryce smiled widely. "Yeah, I'd like that."

"I'll beat you though," I added nonchalantly. "I forgot to mention I was awesome at basketball," I said taking a sip of my soda.

He grinned. "Yeah, well, we should make a bet on it."

"What did you have in mind?" I asked.

Bryce thought about it for a minute. "Dinner?" he suggested, scrunching up his forehead.

"You're on," I said, stepping up to the challenge.

We shook on it.

***************Skyler**************

"Hey mom!" I called out when I walked into our house.

"Hey Sky," she called from the kitchen. She was stir frying some noodles in a pan and still had her back to me. "How was work today?"

"Fine, did a whole bunch of nothing as usual, but still great," I said sarcastically.

My mom laughed and brushed off my comment. "That's good."

"So I realized something last winter break, but I didn't fully understand it until now," I began.

"Hmm?" my mom said as she mixed some more ingredients.

"I realized I'm bisexual," I said.

I watched as the bottle of oil my mom was holding tipped over too far and she spilled too much into the pan.

"Oh crap," she cried out and I saw her wave her hands around as if she didn't know what to do. Then she grabbed a handful of noodles and chopped veggies and dumped them in. She put the lid on the pan and let it simmer.

She turned to me, frowning slightly. "What?"

"I'm bisexual."

"When did this happen?" she asked with concern and confusion.

"Yesterday."

"What?!?" she yelled.

"Mom, chill out," I said, popping a raw piece of pepper into my mouth. "I thought a lot about it. I realized I definitely was bisexual. All that occurred yesterday. As in the thinking process," I explained.

"And before yesterday you were straight?" she questioned.

"I was thinking if I was or not." I shook my head. "Nah, scratch that. I was more like debating. Going over the pros and cons and such."

"Wow, I had no idea. All those girls you were with and everything,” she said, shaking her head. “What brought this on?" my mom asked in disbelief.

"Well, a friend of Crew's is gay and I met him last winter and we really hit it off," I explained.

"Zeke?" she asked raising her eyebrow knowingly.

I smiled. "There ya go Ma. You just convinced me that you listen when I talk," I said jokingly.

My mom frowned. "Have you been struggling with this for a long time?" she asked.

I shrugged. "Nah, I was just thinking if I wanted to have something more serious with Zeke. He's really great Mom. He's just like me," I added.

My mom rolled her eyes. "Obviously. You love yourself so much you could only spend time with someone who was exactly like you. Basically, so you can love yourself even more."

"So you're ok with having a bisexual son, right?" I asked.

"Of course Skyler!" my mom scolded. "You know I've never had a problem with gay people before. I have gay friends and Crew is just a doll," she said.

"Yeah, well some people are hypocritical. Being gay or bisexual is ok as long as it’s not their child or brother," I reminded her, crossing my arms.

"Well, I have no problem with it, sweetie. I just want you to be happy. Maybe this Zeke can help you get your act together," she added.

I groaned, "Mom!"

"Maybe I should give this Zeke a call and tell him to talk some sense into you," she said smiling wickedly.

"Mom," I said in a warning tone.

"In fact, we should invite him over for dinner. Storm and Crew too," she said, thinking the idea over with a small smile on her lips.

I felt worried. My mom and her ideas, she usually got her way.

"Did I say Zeke? I clearly meant, uh, Derek," I said.

She smirked. "Have you told Storm or your Dad yet?"

"No, but I'm sure Storm has an idea. He's always around me, and Dad, well I don't know," I said truthfully.

"Well, your Dad might not be happy with the turn of events, but he'll support you no matter what."

"I know," I said. "Thanks for your support mom," I added.

My mom stirred the vegetables and noodles and put some on a large plate. "Of course. Besides I find gay people so much cooler," she said grinning.

"Does this mean you like me better than Storm?" I asked winking.

She chuckled and handed me the plate of food. "Whatever happens with this Zeke, I hope you're careful."

"You mean with sex?"

My mom visibly cringed. "I mean in general. I know you Skyler. You don't care what people think. You are so open about everything; but people might take that as a challenge with your ‘throw it in their face’ attitude. I worry about you sometimes."

"Don't Mom, I'll be careful. Just buy me some condoms and a large tub of lube," I said.

"Skyler!"

"Mom, what do you want to do tonight? Want to rent some homosexual porn?"

"Skyler!"

"Some hot man-on-man action?"

Silence.

"That's a no-go, right?" I asked sweetly.

My mother frowned at me, her hands on her slender hips.

I gasped dramatically. "Wait, let me get this straight. So you won't watch gay porn with me? And you call yourself a mother."

She whipped around, her long black pony tied hair swinging. She threw a piece of broccoli at my face.

I picked it up off the table and popped it into my mouth.

"That's cruel mom. That's cruel," I said as I chewed.

She still looked a little bit miffed so I stood up and walked over to her. I hugged her tightly and kissed her shoulder.

"Thanks Mom, I really love you."

"I love you too baby," she said patting my back.

"Now go eat something. My garbage disposal is acting up and you're the next best thing," she teased.

I stuck my tongue out at her and made a face.

That only earned me another broccoli piece chucked at my face. I ended up eating it as well.

****************

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Storm asked after we finished having dinner with mom. We were in our family room playing video games when I broke out the big news.

"I couldn't tell you something I wasn't sure of, Storm," I said wiggling the controller.

"Well maybe you should hop over the line and become a full blown gay man," Storm said trying to stifle a smile.

"Yeah and why is that?"

"Because at least that way it's a definite guarantee that you won't procreate and have devious delinquents running around," Storm said laughing.

I scoffed. "Whatever, like your children will be so great," I said unable to come up with a witty comeback. Then an idea came to me.

I grinned evilly. "You know, if I have gay tendencies then that means you do too," I said. "We are identical twins after all. We're what you call monozygotic twins--twins who share one hundred percent of their genes. That includes the gay gene, brother dear." I smirked at the shocked look on his face. "Yeah that's right. I went to class that day."

"I'm not gay dude," Storm said firmly shaking his head.

I snickered. "Are you sure? Want to give it a try?"

"Sky, stop man."

"So you're ok with it right?" I asked becoming serious.

Storm looked at me in disbelief. "Of course I am, you idiot. I'm your twin. I could never hate you over that. It's not like you murdered someone and hid their mutilated body in our backyard," he said. Then he cast me a contemplative look.

I rolled my eyes. "I did not hide a mutilated body in our backyard."

Storm laughed.

"I couldn't find the big shovel; otherwise it would have been a different story," I said with a solemn expression before I howled with laughter, falling face first into my cushion. Storm laughed with me and hit me over the head with the couch cushion.

"Yeah, but I'm cool with it," Storm said when we finally calmed down.

"Good, because I have something to ask you," I said as I put in a new game on our PS2.

"What's that?" Storm asked, setting up his character.

"Hold up," I said as I set up my own character. We started the game.

"Will you watch gay porn with me tonight? Mom left me hanging because she said no when I asked her before," I said.

I heard the thud of Storm's controller. I grinned.

I won that game.

 

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