Date: Sun, 18 May 2014 09:38:47 -0700
From: h.schreiber@hushmail.com
Subject: Chapter 10 of Come Christmas Steve by Hans Schreiber

Come Christmas Steve
Chapter 10
Valentine's Massacre


Following an invigorating morning run with Whittaker and a nice big
breakfast, Steve and I headed to the library. I helped him where I could,
doing most of his busy work assignments to allow him more time to study for
exams. I met his study group for English and I met Todd, the local guy in
the study group. He was a very friendly guy and breathtakingly handsome. He
was male model material with jet black hair and a chiseled jaw line. He
chatted me up and wanted to know all about my family and what life was like
in Kalispell. He told me that he'd heard a lot about me from Steve, which
surprised me since Steve is such a private and quiet person. "All good
things, of course," Todd said. Then he asked me point blank, "So, are you
two like, partners?" I felt my jaw dropping and my mind go blank. Luckily,
Steve overheard the question and jumped in.

"We sure are. Partners in crime. This guy gets me into all kinds of
trouble. Don't you, Shane?" Steve said as he wrapped me into a headlock.

"Yup, that's me all right." I excused myself so that they could get to work
and so I could avoid any further awkward questions. I headed off to the
dorm, gathered up all the dirty clothes and trudged down to the basement
laundry room. I'd agreed to do the laundry for both Steve and I while he
got through this semester. As I stuffed his clothes into the washer, I
couldn't resist holding one of his t-shirts up to my nose and drinking in
his scent. It made me smile. I sat and studied while the clothes went
through the cycles and I sort of felt like a housewife doing chores. I
wondered what it must have been like for my mom having the same old routine
all those years raising her boys. She seemed happy enough doing it and I
wondered what my life would be like. I wondered if it would be
adventuresome or dull. I concluded that it didn't really matter as long as
it was shared with Steve. I supposed that's why my mom didn't mind it. She
loved my dad and she loved us boys. That was reward enough for her.

Following afternoon classes, I met up with Steve and Whittaker for dinner
at the cafeteria and afterwards, we headed over to the fine arts auditorium
to watch Jensen perform with the choir. He looked pretty sharp in his
tuxedo. The performance was great and Jensen even joined in a quartet
singing a number in Italian that emotionally moved me. I wasn't exactly a
classical music guy but it was really well done and even though I couldn't
understand the words, the passion they put into it was stirring.

"Jensen, your song was beautiful, man," I complimented after the
performance. "It almost brought me to tears. You're really a very good
singer,"

"Thanks. I actually like choir a lot. And, as you can see, there's a
fantastic boy/girl ratio." I laughed.

"Good for you, dude." We walked back to the dorms together and Jensen told
us about his plans for Valentine's Day. He had a hookup planned with one of
the choir girls. He'd introduced us backstage and she was a very cute girl
with a pleasant personality. She appeared to be as smitten with Jensen as
he was with her. He was taking her to a nice Valentine's dinner and then to
a hotel downtown. I had to give him credit, he was good at getting what he
wanted. I told them about Steve's and my plans to go to Plonk.

Steve shocked us all by interjecting, "And Shane tells me he has a special
surprise for me afterwards. Something involving his tongue, I think. I
can't wait." We all laughed and I blushed. I shook my head in disbelief
that he would say something like that.

As we lay in bed that night and cuddled, we talked about ideas for the
future. I shared my thoughts about my mom and her routine and how it didn't
matter whether life was exciting or dull as long as it was full of
love. Steve agreed. "You dropping a hint that you'd like me to fill you
with some loving right now?" Steve teasingly asked me.

"Nah, not tonight," I responded. "Just cuddling with you is all I need." He
kissed me on the back of my neck and then stuck the tip of his tongue in my
ear. I squirmed and squawked. That drives me crazy and it makes Steve laugh
when I react to it. We settled back in against each other and Steve gently
stroked my protruding nipples. He mentioned that he was going with the
study group over to Todd's house and he'd be late the following
evening. The group project was due on Wednesday and they wanted to
completely wrap it up, no matter how long it took. I thanked him for
letting me know.

The next morning, after our run and shower, I didn't see Steve the rest of
that day. We had conflicting classes and then he went off with the study
group, or so I thought. I kept busy preparing for our big Valentine's
celebration at Plonk and was relieved that the laptop had arrived in time.

When I awoke the morning of Valentine's day, I rolled over to see Steve
sleeping soundly in his own bed. I hadn't waited up and I hadn't heard him
come in. I slipped out of my bed and into his and snuggled my body against
his. He shifted and turned to face me. We kissed and I fondled his tender
boy parts while he woke up. I grew excited and pressed my stiff penis
between his thighs against his balls, He remained limp, though, and we just
continued to kiss tenderly while little Shaney throbbed between his firm
thighs. We teased each other about what phenomenal sex we would be having
later on that night to celebrate our love on Valentines. When Whittaker
knocked on the door for us to go running we just hollered for him to go
without us. "Geez, already?" he asked. "Have fun and don't hurt
yourselves!" We chuckled as we speculated on where his imagination was
taking him. We conjured up images of him trying to run with that massive
dick of his all boned up from his daydreams of us having sex together. He'd
become a good friend and we both really wanted him to find a girl.

At breakfast, Whittaker slipped a sausage link between his lips and
commented, "I just love to start the morning sucking a nice firm
sausage. What about you two?" He winked. We waved him off.

"For your information, all we did was cuddle this morning. We're saving the
hot sex for later tonight."

"Ooooo! Can I come watch?"

"NO!" We both responded firmly. Whittaker faked a pout and Jensen just
shook his head at all of us.

"So are you still on with the choir chick?" Whittaker asked Jensen.

He got a big ass smile and nodded. "Damn straight. I'll be boned all day
just thinking about it."

Poor Whittaker just breathed in a deep sigh. "I suppose I'll just watch
some lame porno and jack off."

No one knew quite what to say after that and we fell silent for a
bit. Whittaker asked Steve whose hot Camaro he was getting into the night
before and Steve seemed to freeze up for a moment.

"Oh," I answered for him, "That was Todd. He's in Steve's English study
group."

"Wow. Nice wheels for a student. Do you know what engine it has in it?"
Whittaker asked.

"No. No I don't," Steve was flushed and I thought that was odd.

I needed a lab ticket from the bookstore so I told Steve I'd meet up with
him at the dorm before we headed to the library. When I walked in the dorm
room, Steve was kneeling beside his bed. He jumped up and acted kind of
guilty about something, like I'd caught him jacking off or something. That
wasn't it, though, because he had his pants on and the fly was up. I
wondered if he'd been praying, but that seemed unlikely since he'd
professed no religious training. I started to ask what he'd been up to, but
realized that would be prying like my mother used to do and I had
determined not to go there anymore. The last thing I wanted was an argument
to ruin Valentine's Day.

The day was dreadfully long and I couldn't wait for the big evening to
come. I'd wrapped the laptop up in shiny red paper with a white bow on top
and stashed it under my bed surrounded by my dirty clothes. After our last
afternoon classes, Steve and I showered together. It was the middle of the
afternoon and it was unlikely we'd get caught and I honestly don't think
either of us would have cared that much if we had been. We didn't do
anything sexual other than wash each other's hair and soap up each other's
backsides. Well, there was a little kissing and fondling but nothing
extensive. We planned on a night full of wild sex when we got back from
Plonk. I put on my black dress slacks and a bright red Ralph Lauren
polo. Steve wore his black skinny jeans and a white, ribbed V-neck. A
splash of cologne for each of us and we were off. We drew stares from a
number of girls along the way, and I wanted to tell them, 'Sorry girls,
he's mine'. We caught the bus at the edge of campus and I carried the
present in my backpack. This was going to be a night to remember.

When we arrived at Plonk, the neon sign above the door signaled our
successful arrival. The party noise was spilling out onto the
street. Jazzy, pop music and happy laughter greeted us. I was excited for
the evening and impressed that it was already pretty full even though it
was early. "Two?" the hostess asked.

"Yes, I have reservations for Steele."

"Follow me." We passed the noisy bar section and sat at a table for two
positioned against a brick wall. The place exuded character. It was
perfect. The lighting was low with blue neon highlights on the bar and
walls here and there. It held a youthful yet sophisticated, upscale
ambience. The clientele was mostly young, well dressed couples. The couples
were of all variety - guys with guys, girls with girls, and mostly, guys
with girls, of course. A number of them had presents on the table so after
we were seated, I pulled Steve's gift out and set it on the table against
the brick wall next to the salt and pepper shakers and the bar menu. He
furrowed his brow and reached for it. "I thought we agreed not to spend
money on each other? Taking me out to this nice place for dinner is
enough."

"I told you. This didn't cost me anything. But, I know you're gonna be
totally buzzed over it."

He reached for it but I put my hands on top of it and held it
firm. "Nuh-uh," I said. "You have to wait."

He smiled. "You're like a big kid."

"That's what you like about me, I think."

"That's one of the things I like about you for sure. I'm embarrassed that I
don't have anything for you besides a silly card." He pulled a red envelope
out of his pocket and laid it on top of the present. I smiled at his
thoughtfulness while a warm satisfaction spread through my breast over his
thoughtfulness.

We ordered virgin strawberry daiquiris. When the waitress brought the
drinks, I lifted mine and said, "Here's to our long and joyful
relationship."

Steve reached over and took the drink out of my hand. "That's
inappropriate. In fact, I'm not sure you should even be allowed to drink
that."

"Why?" I was confused.

"Isn't it obvious? It's a VIRGIN daiquiri."

I laughed out loud. "You've been hanging around Whittaker way too much. His
lame humor's rubbing off on you."

"No he's not. You're the only person I allow to rub off on me these days."
Then he completely shocked me by producing a mini-bottle from his pocket
and with a nervous glance, split it between our drinks.

"Where the hell did you get that?"

"One guess," he answered.

"Whittaker?" I guessed. Steve smiled and nodded. Then he stashed the empty
bottle back in his pocket.

"Okay, now we can appropriately toast our "non-virgin" relationship." I
smiled and took my glass.

"I guess it is appropriate now. I like liquor the same way I like you."

"How's that?" Steve asked with a little grin.

"HARD! Of course." I answered. He laughed and nodded, then he upped the
ante. "I'm better at holding my liquor than you are, you know."

"What makes you say that? Because of how messed up I got drinking with
Whittaker?" I guessed.

"No, because you have such big ears to hold onto."

It took me a minute to get it but when I did, I blushed and looked to make
sure no one could hear what he'd said. Then I laughed with him. We toasted
each other with a clink of our glasses and sipped the sweet, frozen drink
with the mild alcoholic burn to it.

When it came time to order, our waitress suggested the quail and we both
opted for it. We talked about my childhood experiences with Valentine's Day
back in grade school. I shared the tradition of getting little Valentine
cards with cartoon characters on them and taping some candy on them. We
would decorate paper sacks and put our names on them and then we would all
walk around the room dropping the Valentines we'd brought into everyone's
sack. Sometimes, if we really liked someone, we'd write a little note on
them. It was a big deal if you got a card with a note on it. I never did.

I reminisced about the time I'd written a note to Julie Mangelsohn. She was
the only girl I ever had a crush on. I told her I liked her and that she
had pretty hair. She showed my note to her friends and some of the stupid
guys saw it and teased me for weeks over it. They'd sing that dumb song
about Shane and Julie sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g. I hated it and so
did Julie. One day when Julie ran into the girl's bathroom to avoid those
guys, they grabbed me and forced me into the girl's room behind her and
then held the door shut so I couldn't get out until a teacher came by. Then
they took off running and I walked out red faced just as the teacher
reached the door. She got mad and accused me of trying to peek on the
girls. No one would listen to my explanation and all the guys denied it,
claiming they were out on the playground at the time. Even Julie claimed
I'd been chasing her so I got in trouble for it and had detention for three
days after school. Plus, I had to endure the disappointment and punishment
at home. My brothers all gave me shit over it, too. No one believed me."

"That's awful," Steve sincerely empathized.

"I remember not long after that, we were playing a game where you had to
hold hands with the person next to you. I was next to Julie and I was
excited for an excuse to hold her hand. When she went to take my hand, she
noticed a wart on my middle finger. She freaked out and made a big huge
scene over it, refusing to hold hands with me. The teacher got frustrated
at the class over how they mocked and teased me. They called me warthog and
things like that. She got so mad over it that she cancelled Friday
afternoon game time and made us sit and read quietly during that hour
instead."

"Wow, that really sucks," Steve said. He was fascinated with my story. He
tried to lighten the mood a bit by saying, "No wonder you're gay." That did
make me snicker.

"I don't think that was it, but ... who knows. Like I said, Julie was my
only girl crush in school. I had plenty of boy crushes. Oh my god, there
was Nate Adams, this cute blondie in seventh grade. I stood next to him at
the urinal one day and got a peek at his penis and I was in love. I kept
following him into the bathroom after that until it started getting obvious
and weird." Steve laughed as I continued my Julie story, "I know the
teacher was trying to teach the class a lesson for teasing me, but it
totally backfired. Not only was I getting teased about Julie and my big ass
wart, I was also getting blamed for ruining our game time. I got beat up
after school three times over that part. Plus, I missed out on game time
too, which was something I really looked forward to every week. I'm still
not a big fan of reading because of it. It seems more like a punishment
than a pastime," I admitted.

"Sometimes," Steve said, "I imagine that everyone who has an intact family
just has it easy. I'm realizing that life is hard in some way for just
about everyone. You have what I consider the perfect family life and
Whittaker has both parents, but both of you had emotional struggles growing
up. That's really sad about that experience ruining your love for
reading. Me, I love to read. Reading was my escape from the doldrums of
orphan life. I could go places and be things in my mind to escape my dull
reality. Reality basically sucks most of the time. I read every book in the
library and some of them twice. Uncle Arty, this guy who gave the orphanage
a bunch of money, would bring me books to read," Steve said. "He did me
lots of other favors too."

"Is that where you got your love for poetry?" I asked.

"Yeah it is. I love all good literature."

"That was nice of that Arty guy to bring you books and to donate to the
boys' home. There are some good people out there. That's the kind of person
I want to be. Someone who does good things for others."

"You don't want to be like Uncle Arty, believe me. Nothing came free with
him. For every favor he did for me, he expected two in return. Nothing ever
comes free or without expectations in this life."

"Why do you say that? That's kind of cynical."

"Just realistic. That's the way things are in the world."

"So if that's true, what're your expectations for the love you give to me?"
I asked, lifting one eyebrow. "What favors do you expect in return?"

"Don't worry. I collect on a regular basis," he answered with a sly
smile. I smiled back knowingly. Our meals came and the quail was absolutely
fantastic. It had this intense sage flavoring to it and it practically
melted in our mouths. We oohed and ahh'd over it and sipped our spiked
drinks while we conversed comfortably over various topics from current
events to an extended discussion of what we might want to do with each
other later on back at the dorm to consummate our celebration.

We paused and watched as the couple two tables over got engaged. A shapely
redhead in a tight fitting, black evening dress knelt beside her twenty
something, blond partner and took her hand. We couldn't hear the question,
but we heard the response. The blond threw her hand over her mouth and
started to cry for joy. "Yes, yes!" she sobbed. The redhead stood and
pulled two necklaces from her pocket. She took her partner by the hand and
pulled her to her feet. They hugged romantically and shared the necklaces
as everyone around applauded. One necklace was the left side of a heart and
the other one was the right side. It was an inspiring bit of symbolism. It
reminded me of Karl and Cynthia getting engaged over Christmas break. I
know it was presumptuous of me, but I imagined Steve and I exchanging rings
with each other. I thought I would like it to be lakeside in Glacier Park,
possibly my favorite place on earth and one of Steve's favorite places
too. I felt a warmth spread over me as I remembered that special time
together there.

"Hey! Shane? You still with us?" Steve asked.

I startled out of my daydream and smiled. "Yeah. Sorry. I was just thinking
about Karl and Cynthia."

"Yeah, that was cool to witness." Steve licked his fingers after polishing
off the last piece of quail.

After we finished our dinners, Steve leaned over the table and motioned me
to meet him halfway. Because the lighting was very low, essentially just
the candlelight at the tables that shimmered off the brick walls, we felt
safe sharing some public affection. Besides, the clientele was obviously
not judgmental. He gave me a tender kiss and lightly stroked my cheek. Then
he thanked me for the evening and for my love and kindness. He handed me
his card and I opened it.

I needed the candlelight to read it and had to hold it slightly askew. The
card itself was simple and said something like how I light up his world and
inside were images of exploding fireworks in the shape of a heart.  But on
the blank side he'd written a poem he'd found in a book from the library. I
got teary as I read it. By the end, I was dabbing my eyes with my napkin.

Snowflake Kisses, by Angela M. Torrence

Upon the earth the snow kisses Glittering flakes drop as the ice glistens
My soul has awaken and now my heart listens In my mind your voice whispers
When I close my eyes at night I dream of you When I awake to the morning
dew I think of you Somehow I feel in your arms is where I belong I've
waited for someone like you for so long Now my heart beats with a happy
rhyme Couldn't have asked for a better Valentine

"I couldn't say it any better than that poem did and I want you to know
that I mean it. I love you, Shane Steele. I truly do, and I really doubted
I'd ever be able to say that to anyone, ever."

"That's just beautiful. I wondered the same thing about ever finding
someone to love once I accepted that I was gay. I can't believe how lucky I
feel to be with you. Okay now," I sighed, pushing the present over towards
him. "Your turn." I was so excited for him to open his gift.

"Thank you," he said graciously, "but I still wish you hadn't done this. I
feel bad that I don't have anything for you in return."

"Are you kidding me? There is nothing I would want more than that heartfelt
sediment you just gave me." Steve's reaction wasn't expected at all. He
burst out laughing.

"What?"

"You," he said. "You kill me sometimes. You don't even know what you said,
do you?"

"No. What did I say that would be funny?" I asked.

"Sediment. You thanked me for the nice sediment."

"Yeah, so? It was a wonderful sediment."

"Let me see your phone," he asked holding his hand out.

I handed it over to him and he stopped laughing and was just mildly
chuckling as he navigated to dictionary.com and handed it back. "Read the
definition of sediment," he instructed me. "I think you mean sentiment."

"Oh my god, I feel so stupid," I said blushing.

"Nah, I confuse lots of words, but calling my poem dregs settled to the
bottom was just plain funny, especially as serious as you were being."

"I see why you laughed," I agreed. "You know what's wonderful about that,
though?"

"No, what?" Steve asked.

"That I feel so comfortable over it and it doesn't bother me that you
laughed. I can laugh at myself with you. I never used to be that way. I
took offense at every little thing. I'd been conditioned to be overly
sensitive to everything people said to me. I was teased a lot as a kid and
I never really took it very well."

"Yeah, that is a nice thing. What's nice about it is that I didn't have to
think twice or worry about hurting your feelings by cluing you in to your
mistake. It never occurred to me I might offend you because you've never
been like that with me. I guess that's a real sign that our love is
progressing in a good way."

"All right, open the gift already. I can't wait any longer."

He smiled and tore into it like a kid at Christmas. When he pulled the
laptop out of the box, his smile dipped. "Shane! This is way too much. I
don't want to hurt your feelings, but I can't accept this."

"I thought you might say something like that," I responded completely
undisturbed. "So I printed out a copy of Tom's email. It's his old laptop
and he's giving it to you because he got a nice new one. Mine's fine and
when I told him you needed one, he wanted you to have it and so do I. You
need one and you know it's true."

"It's not that simple. It's not that I don't appreciate it; it's a crazy
sweet gesture from you and Tom. It's just not that easy. I can't ..."

"Can't? Can't what?" I asked in frustration. "You're always telling me to
finish my sentences so now it's my turn. What specifically can't you do?"

"I - I can't say exactly. It's just ..., just ..." He rubbed his forehead
like he did when he couldn't solve a problem easily. "But, you know what? I
don't care. I'll keep it and use it. I'll just be careful on it like I am
when I use yours. Thanks. I love it and I love you."

I started to demand more of an explanation. I felt I deserved more
explanation but he'd agreed to accept the gift and I decided to leave well
enough alone and not spoil the moment, even though his reluctance to be
honest with me about what was going on was very disappointing. I put on a
bright smile and said, "Good."

Then I added, "You'll love it. It's a nice machine. I went ahead and
created a Facebook account for you. Welcome to the twentieth century dude."

"You did what?"

"I setup a Facebook for you. Picture and everything. Cool, huh?"

"NO! NOT cool! My god, we have to delete that as soon as we get back. I
wonder if they have Wi-Fi here and we can delete it now." He was quivering
and clearly upset.

"Why?"

"I can't. Please just trust me on this thing. Holy shit."

"No. What the hell is wrong? This is crazy. If you really love me like
you've been saying, then I need you to be willing not to hide things from
me. Explain what's wrong." I pleaded.

He stared at me for a moment then came to his decision. "Do you love me?"

"Yes. Totally."

"Do you trust me?"

"Yes. Shouldn't I?"

"You should. Trust me enough to believe me when I say, I can't tell you
about this thing. We just have to erase the Facebook and pray no one who
matters has seen it. The thought was generous and you had no idea, but I
can't have anything like that. Please let this go. If you love me, let it
go."

I was hurt but I also knew I wasn't getting an explanation. Pursuing it
would only worsen things and I was not in the mood to start another
fight. "Fine. Whatever you say." We paid the bill and rode home mostly in
silence. The mood of the evening had been tainted. I was disappointed and
sad inside. I could tell he felt bad but not bad enough to break down and
fill me in. My mind raced with crazy ideas of what the big deal with him
could be. What strange dark secret haunted him? Who had I fallen in love
with?

When we arrived at the dorm room, Whittaker was sitting in the hall with
his back to the wall playing on his phone. "Hey guys. You're back earlier
than I expected," he said.

"Yeah," I said flatly. "What are you doing?"

"Jensen," he said. "The motel wouldn't rent him a room without a credit
card. So I'm homeless again for the night. Any chance?" He raised his
eyebrows and gave us a sad, lost puppy look.

"Sure. Love to have you," I said. Steve's head spun and he gave me a
questioning look. I shrugged indifferently. "A friend in need is always
welcome, right Steve?"

"I, I guess," Steve answered.

"It's still kind of early so I'll just go hang at the student center and
fleece some guys at billiards while you two do your Valentine thing. I just
didn't want to miss you."

"Sound's fun. Steve and I'll join you. We don't really have a Valentine
thing to do," I said. I saw Steve's shoulders sag. I felt like it served
him right. If he wasn't going to be honest with me, there was no sense
rewarding bad behavior. Besides, I knew my heart wouldn't be in
it. Whittaker looked from me to Steve and back again but wisely kept his
curiosity to himself.

We put the laptop away and Whittaker put his bag on my bed. As Whittaker
and I turned to leave, Steve paused. You two go and I'll catch up. I need
to take care of what we talked about on the laptop first."

"Really? It can't wait? It has to be done right now?"

"Yeah. Right now. You two go on, I'll find you."

"Whatever. Suit yourself." We left. Valentine's Day, it seemed, had been
massacred. Little did I know it was going to get worse - much worse.

Steve never showed up for billiards and I was feeling a mixture of
aggravation and concern. As we walked back to the dorm, Whittaker
questioned me, "What's up with you and Steve?"

I shook my head slightly and answered, "I gave him a computer that my
brother, Tom, didn't need any longer. At first, he said he couldn't have
one but refused to explain why. Then he finally agreed to keep it but when
I told him I'd set up a Facebook account for him on it, he freaked out. He
said he had to get it off, but he refused to tell me why."

"That's it?" Whittaker asked. "So you're withholding the Valentine's sex
over that?"

"Yeah."

"Freakin' stupid," Whittaker exclaimed.

"I know. I can't believe he wouldn't explain himself. It really hurt my
feelings."

"No. You're freaking stupid for missing out on some good sex over something
stupid like him not wanting a Facebook account."

I scowled at Whittaker. I couldn't believe he was taking Steve's side. "You
don't get it. It wasn't about the Facebook page, it was about him not being
willing to be honest with me or trust me with knowing what's going on."

"Dude, you really need to chill. You can't pick fights over trivial shit
like that. You'll chase Steve off. You're talking like chick drama
shit. Jensen has to put up with that shit if he wants to get laid, but
Steve doesn't. Trust me on this. I know all about repelling people. I'm a
fucking expert, in fact."

I felt the sinking pit in my stomach start to expand into a full-fledged
black hole. I quickened my pace. Whittaker was probably right. I was being
stupid over something trivial. I needed to go apologize and have the wild
sex we'd planned for the evening after all. I mentally kicked myself and
quickened my pace.

I unlocked and burst through the dorm room door, "Steve," I called into the
empty space. I stopped and looked around. He was gone along with all of his
things. I jerked open the closet doors and drawers along the wall. His
clothes were all gone. I rushed to his desk and the laptop sat there with a
note left on top of it. I grabbed it with both hands and read in Steve's
unmistakably neat penmanship, "Shane, I love you. But ..." I felt a wave of
nausea rush through me and I had to sit down which I did hard onto the
wooden desk chair.

"What is it?" Whittaker asked coming up behind me. I read on.

"But I'm not worthy of you and should have known better. I'm so
sorry. Please just forget about me, find someone else and have the
wonderful life you deserve." I groaned and crumpled the note. I dropped my
head to the desk and pounded my forehead against the blonde wood. Whittaker
took the note from my hand and opened it.

"Wow," Whittaker finally said. "I thought you overreacted. He's worse than
you. Are you sure there isn't more to this than you're telling me?"

I rolled my forehead back and forth on the desk. "No. I mean, Steve's
always been a little mysterious but this makes no sense. Where would he
even go? Do you think he moved back in with Jensen?"

"I don't think so. My shit's still all in there along with Jensen and his
latest choir fuck."

"Can you go check? Please?" I looked up at Whittaker. His red hair was a
fuzzy ball of fire as I peered at him through my tear filled eyes.

"Awkward! Jensen's got a naked chick in there right now. Steve knows that
too. I don't think he'd go there. Try and think where else he might have
gone. Is there anything he said or did that might be a clue?" Whittaker
asked as he sat down at the other desk.

"No, like I said, there were a lot of odd things he ... Wait!" I pushed
away from the desk and dropped to my knees. I crawled over to his bed and
lifted the mattress. I reached in and grasped a small black object. Turning
it in my fingers, I explained, "The other day, I walked in on him and
caught him kneeling by his bed. He acted strange like I'd caught him at
something. I thought he'd been jacking off, but he was dressed. He must
have been hiding this thumb drive. Maybe there's a clue on it."

"Cool. Let's see what's on it," Whittaker said as he opened the lid to
Tom's old laptop. I scrambled up onto the chair and typed in the login
password I'd set up for him, SSLUVSSF. The windows desktop appeared and I
plugged the USB drive in. I could hardly wait for it to come up. When it
did, I clicked on the open files selection and a number of file folders
named with three letter acronyms appeared. My heart was thumping in
anticipation as I opened the first one.

Hundreds of files appeared but they were encoded. I clicked on one and
tried several passwords that I dreamed up that Steve might use, but of
course, nothing worked. I clicked on all the other file folders only to
encounter the same result. Everything was encoded. I was frustrated and
pushed away from the desk. "This is fucking useless," I snorted. "How could
I have been so stupid? Oh Steve, come back."

"Alright, let's walk through this all over again. Let's think about
everything we know about Steve and try to figure out where he might have
gone. I still think this thumb drive is a clue, if we could only figure out
how to break the code."

"I know it, but how?" I asked.

"I have an idea," Whittaker said.

"What?"

"Jensen knows a guy in the choir who is some kind of computer genius. He's
already working for some big bank and they're paying him to go to school
and get his degree. I bet he could help us with it."

"Really? Let's go ask him."

"We can't right now, he's with that choir chick."

"So? This is important. Steve could be anywhere. Maybe he's out on the
street and it's my fault," I whined.

Whittaker sighed. "I don't really want to interrupt 'em. Steve wouldn't
just go off with no place to go. He's smarter than that."

"I don't know. You read the note. What if he's suicidal?"

"Nah. C'mon. You're really overreacting now. He wouldn't do that. That
wasn't a suicide note, it was just an apology note."

"Still, let's go ask Jensen for the guy's name and number. I'm going. You
can come if you want to," I said.

"Okay. I'm coming, but Jensen is not going to be happy."

I tucked the laptop under my arm and marched down the hall. I knocked on
the door and waited impatiently for all of thirty seconds before I pounded
again.

"Whittaker's not here. I'm busy. Go away!" Jensen called out firmly.

"Jensen, it's me, Shane," I answered back. "Steve's missing. Did he talk to
you? Do you know where he is?"

"What? Steve? No. I haven't talked to Steve since this morning. What do you
mean he's missing?"

"Missing! Gone. He's cleaned out all his clothes and everything and he's
just gone. I need the name of the guy you know in choir who's good at
computers. Just give me his name and number and I'll leave you be. I'm
sorry but this is important. Please."

"Just a minute," he answered. Shortly, the door opened a crack and Jensen
stood there in tented boxers. "What about computers? What's that got to do
with Steve?"

Whittaker jumped in, "Steve left behind a USB drive with a bunch of encoded
files on it and we think that may be a clue about where he went to. I
mentioned to Shane about the computer genius guy in choir who you talked
about. He was hoping that guy could help us decrypt the files."

"Hmm. Hold on," Jensen grumbled. He came back with his phone in hand and
gave me the name and number. "Text him. He won't answer the phone. Are we
done?"

"Yeah. Thanks. I'm sorry for interrupting your ..." He held his hand up to
stop me from continuing. Thinking about it, I realized he didn't really
want to have the girl hear that I knew she was in there. "Nap," I said. He
smirked.

Then before he shut the door, he opened it back up and said sincerely,
"Dude, I'm sorry about Steve. I can see you're really worried. I hope you
find him okay."

I smiled back. "Thanks." I headed off back to my dorm and started to ask
Whittaker if he thought I should offer the guy money to help us or not but
I quickly realized I was alone. I turned around and shook my head. I walked
back and grabbed the tall goon by his exposed ear and pulled him away from
the door. "This way you pervert."

"Ow!" He complained.

"I can't believe you were trying to listen in on them. That's so rude," I
scolded.

"Hey, I was just being concerned. I wanted to make sure he was able to pick
back up wherever he left off."

"Perv!" I repeated. He just grinned. Changing the subject, I asked, "Do you
think I should offer this guy money to help us?" I set the laptop back down
on the desk and tapped out a lengthy text message to the computer guru on
my phone.

"No. Not unless you have to," Whittaker responded.

I got a text right back. He told me I could bring over the drive and he'd
look at it. "Oh my god, he said we could bring it right over and he'd look
at it. He's in the apartments right across the street from campus by the
student center. Let's go."

"Cool," Whittaker said. "I have to give you points for persistence. If I'm
ever kidnapped, I want you on the case."

"Kidnapped? You think Steve was kidnapped?" I asked, horrified.

"No. No. I don't think that. Calm down, dude. I was just saying if I were
ever kidnapped. Oh never mind. Let's go visit what's his name?" Whittaker
said.

"Calvin. His name's Calvin." I pulled the drive from the laptop and headed
out. Whittaker scurried behind me and caught up once we were outside. We
chatted about what the encrypted files could be about. I was worried he
wouldn't be able to crack the code and we'd still be in the dark. I
desperately wished I could go back and have a redo on this day's events.

**************###**************

I recognize that the timing between chapters has been much too long. I keep
promising to do better but it isn't likely to get better. I have other
commitments to job and family that have preempted my writing time. I hope
you will still enjoy the story as it continues towards its ensuing
climax. I envision two or three more chapters until completion. Many thanks
to my patient and hard working editors, Paul S. Stevens and Flip
McHooter. H.schreiber@hushmail.com

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