Date: Fri, 9 Apr 2004 02:21:21 -0700 (PDT) From: SJL Subject: Paul and Adam: Chapter 13 Yes, darlings, I'm still alive. Thank you for all the inquires into the question of my existence, I appreciate it. Thank you especially to Mac for his beautiful email that I'm too lazy to have replied to yet because I want to actually make sense and be somewhat relevant. Not that the rest of you are chopped liver or anything. You know I love you. I have a new livejournal at: http://www.livejournal.com/users/geekwriter143/ There's not much in it about Paul and Adam, but you can always post comments telling me to get my lazy ass in gear and finish chapter 14. =) The site where I update the story is http://veggiegrlaz.tripod.com and, as always, my email is geekwriter143@yahoo.com This is a little mini-chapter again, I'm afraid. I haven't been able to feel my brain for a few weeks, so I'm behind. I swear I'll make it up to you. Also, if you want to be on my update list, please email me. My computer died and I lost my old list. And if you got a thing about how I put you on "ignore" on Yahoo Messenger, sorry. That was another computer glitch and about half the people I talk to got accidentally ignored. I don't hate you, I promise. On to Chapter 13, from Adam's POV. -------------------------------------------------------- My room is spotless. Everything is in its place; my bed is neatly made, my desk is organized and there's a stack of new notebooks on it, the championship picture from last year's State Finals has been reframed and is sitting on top of my dresser next to my trophies and medals, all in their places. I drop my backpack in the center of my room and sigh, then look around. At first I thought I could stay with Paul, but as the weekend progressed it became obvious that was impossible. It wasn't just that his bed was tiny and we kept having to adjust positions during the night. It wasn't just having to share a bathroom with Paul and Caroline and Delphine. It wasn't just not having any of my own stuff, any breathing room. It wasn't just Delphine's pointed looks that let me know I was quickly outstaying my welcome. That stuff mattered, but the main reason I had to come home was just that-it was my home. "You're back," my father says from the doorway. I turn and look at him, keep my chin up. "Yeah." He nods and slides his hands into his pockets. "It's good to see you." I shrug and pick my backpack up, drop it on my bed, unzip it and start to clean it out. "Adam, we need to talk," he says. "Nothing to talk about," I say. "Yes, there is. I have to apologize to you for the way I acted." The words sound so strange coming from him that I have to turn and look. "No big deal," I say. "No, it is a big deal." He sighs and takes a step into my room. "I was...I overreacted." "That's an understatement." "I should have handled things differently. I should have come directly to you. I know that now." I look over his shoulder. "Where's Rebecca?" He shakes his head. "Not here." "Oh," I say. "Sorry." "It's OK," he says. "She and I talked about it, and we agree that we should put off living together until, well, until I start taking better care of you." It's awkward to hear, so I look away and cross my arms over my waist. "I haven't..." he sighs. "I've always left the parenting to your mother. I always...that's the way it was when I was growing up, so I just...but she's not here anymore." "No shit," I say. "Adam, listen to me, please. I'm trying to...I know I haven't been much of a father. I know I haven't been around like I should have been. Maybe if I had been, maybe if I'd been a better father you wouldn't--" "Be a faggot?" I ask. He sighs. "Christ, Adam." "That's what you're talking about, isn't it? What you heard Paul and I doing?" "Look, I know that you and Paul...kids try things. Kids experiment. And it's not like I've been around to show you how to be...you're confused, and there's nothing wrong with that. You're allowed to be confused." "I'm not confused," I say softly. "I know that Paul's always been there for you. I know that he probably provides a level of constancy that you don't get anywhere else. And I'm sorry that I haven't been there for you. I'm sorry that your mother and I let our problems get in the way of our responsibilities as parents. But, Adam, just because he's your friend and the two of you care about each other doesn't mean that you can-" "Fuck him?" He cringes. "I love him, Dad." "I know that you think-" "No. I know. I love him." He leans back against the doorframe and closes his eyes. His shoulders are slumped and I don't think I've ever seen him look so broken, not even on the night my mother left. "I'm so sorry I failed you," he whispers. I shake my head. What a prick. "It's always about you, isn't it? It can't ever be about me. I'm not a real person, just the result of whatever it is that you do. Get this through your head-you are a shitty father, and you haven't ever been around, but that has nothing to do with the way I feel about Paul, with the..." I take a deep breath, "with the fact that I'm gay." "You don't know what you're saying," he says. "You're young. When boys are young sometimes they experiment with things, but-" "Did you?" I ask. "What?" "It's a legitimate question. I wanna know if you have any idea what you're talking about. Did you sleep with guys when you were my age?" "No," he says. "Jesus, Adam." "Then how do you know? How do you know guys just experiment? How can you possibly know what I'm feeling? You don't even know who I am." "I'm your father." "Name my two best friends," I say. "I, um, Paul," he says. "And...Matt." "Mark," I say. "Name my last girlfriend." "Your..." "I dated her for three years. You don't know her name, do you? It's Laci. What's my swimming coach's name?" "Adam, I hardly-" "Wade Martin," I say. "Everybody just calls him Coach, even his wife. Her name's Annie. What's my favorite color? What kind of music do I listen to? Where do I want to go to college?" He takes a deep breath and looks at me, his eyes sad. "Green," I say. "A little bit of everything. Stanford. You don't know the most basic things about me, so how can you stand there and tell me that you know what's in my heart?" He shakes his head. "Adam, I just want what's best for you." I stare at him for a moment, take a deep breath. "When's my birthday?" He opens his mouth to speak, then closes it again. He doesn't know. He doesn't even know that. "November third," I say. I turn towards my desk and reach for the stack of notebooks sitting there. My hands are shaking. "Adam, I-" I don't turn around. "I have to get ready for school," I say. "The first day's tomorrow, in case you didn't know." I close my eyes, keep them closed until I hear him leave. I won't cry. Not for him. I get everything ready for school, then sit on the edge of my bed and stare at nothing for a long time. Everything seems like a blur, sleeping, waking up, going to practice in the middle school's indoor pool, walking through the long hallway next to the kitchen that connects the middle school to the high school. Everybody else is laughing and joking, comparing schedules. I smile and I'm sure I talk, but I don't know what I'm saying. Things just come out of my mouth but it's not even connected to my brain. In my brain I'm just... I think that was the longest conversation I ever had alone with my father. I'm not looking forward to another one. I had to leave the house at six to be at practice by six-thirty, and he wasn't up. I wonder if we'll talk again or just go back to being strangers living in the same house. I don't know which one's worse. "Where you headed, little bro?" Jake asks, slinging his arm over my shoulder as he and I and a bunch of other swimmers make our way into the commons. I shrug his arm off my shoulders since I can feel Laura's eyes on us. "Uh, World Civ," I say. "With Barndecker." "Boring as shit," he says. "You wanna get lunch with us later?" "I can't leave campus," I remind him. "Shit," he says. "Who made the stupid rule about underclassmen not being able to leave for lunch, anyway?" I shrug. "We'll sneak you off," Chuck says. "Like anybody's gonna give a shit." "I, uh, I'm probably just going to eat with my friends," I tell him. "What are we?" Chuck asks. "Enemies?" I grin and shake my head. "You know what I mean. I'll catch you later, right?" Mr. Barndecker's World Civilizations class is boring. Right off the bat he has us copy down vocabulary words off the board and spend the rest of the class period in silence, writing out their definitions. After World Civ is Pre-Calculus. Paul's in that class with me, but we end up having assigned seats and people are around so I don't want to talk to him about anything serious, anyway. We have Honors Biology together, too, and Communications fourth hour. "You OK?" Paul asks softly as we head towards the cafeteria, walking around the freshmen that don't know where they're going. "I'm fine," I say. "Just tired." He doesn't believe me, but he doesn't call me on it, either. At lunch Jimmy and Mark try to beat each other at a belching contest until I let one out and beat both of them. "Jesus," Mark says, laughing. "That was, like, a Grand Canyon burp or something." I grin and sip my milk. After lunch Paul goes to his art classes and I have Anatomy & Physiology, then Spanish, then Economics. I didn't want to take Anatomy & Physiology or Economics, but my parents insisted. I'd at least like one study hall, but no. I'm thinking about how it's the first day and I already have hours of fucking homework as I unchain my bike from the bike rack. "Hey," Paul says, running up to me. "Where you going?" He's got paint on his hands and little speckles of it in his hair. I grin at him and sigh. "I've got about three hours of reading to do," I tell him. "So come over and we'll do it there," he says, unlocking his bike. I didn't even notice that it was parked next to mine. "Did I tell you that Caroline and I have the same gym class?" I nod. "Yeah." Thank God I'm in a varsity sport. I'd hate to have to take gym. "We've got a new gym teacher. His name's Mr. Palik." "Cute?" I ask softly, grinning at him. Paul shrugs. "He'll be gray by midterms. He tried to do a basic fitness thing for the first day. You should have seen the look on Caroline's face when he told her to see how many chin-ups she could do." I laugh as I slide my backpack over both shoulders and fasten the chest strap. I make sure all the straps are tight, then straddle my bike and head towards Paul's house. I'd hate to have to try and get Caroline to do calisthenics.