Date: Thu, 02 Aug 2001 22:46:56 EDT
From: AustSwim@aol.com
Subject: Where are you now - part 5

	Ok, being laid off sucks.  I've been unemployed for the past three
months since that day in April when the VP of Development comes into my
office and says thanks but we really can't afford to keep you and 45 other
people.  Please pack your office, turn in your badge, and get out in the
next 2 hours.  I know.  I know.  You think that with all this time I would
have churned out more chapters, but I gotta tell ya.  With the economy and
the job market the way it is it's a full time job just looking for a job.
Oh well.  I'm taking it all in stride.  But if there's anyone out there
with a lead on a data analyst job or report writer or information
specialist, then shoot me an email over with the details.

	Which brings me to my next point.  If you like the direction of the
story or even if you hate it, drop me a line.  I love to get feedback.  It
makes me feel that at least some people are reading my story.  So please.
Write.  The more you write the more I'm apt to keep at this.
austswim@aol.com

	For those of you who have read the other parts before I suggest you
go back and skim over the previous chapters.  It might help with this one.
Those of you who haven't, start at the beginning.  As I mentioned before,
some of this story is taken from personal experiences, some of them or not.
For those of you looking for a jack off story then this might not be your
cup of tea.  Oh don't get me wrong.  I'm here on nifty almost every other
day going at it.  It's just this story is not one of those.

	The story is actually told in a sandwich flashback scheme.  The
1995 bits at the beginning and the end are the present day narratives bits
with the 1987 bits as the flashback parts.  I hope this makes sense.

	Of course the usual disclaimer: If you are under 18 and live
someplace like China where you are told what you can or can't read, then go
elsewhere like Disney.com or something.  Otherwise go right on through.

	I'd like to thank my proofreaders John, Romeo and Christopher
Robin. Thanks guys!

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


--1995--
	"Furlough, party of two, your table is now available.  Furlough,
party of two," shouts out the hostess over the crowd noise in the bar.
Jeff and I are at some Mexican restaurant he'd been trying to get me to go
to for the past couple of weeks.  I was supposed to go out on a call but
asked Fred, Harold's partner who covers for Harold once in a while, that I
had something else I needed to do.  So, someone else took the call.

	After our coffee 'date' Jeff and I made it a regular standing
appointment to do our swim workouts together in the evenings.  He didn't
turn out to be such a bad guy.  Personality wise this guy is blunt and
upfront about everything, but he's also got this wicked sense of humor.
The times that we have done other stuff besides swim he's never had any
problem telling me what's on his mind or giving me his opinion about
anything and everything.  He's funny, cute, and most importantly he's
really made feel at ease, which is quite an accomplishment since I tend to
keep people at arm's length.  You'd think that with a personality like his
he'd be prying in my personal life, but for some reason he hasn't done
that.  So far Jeff has been patient, I guess.  He hasn't really pushed to
get to know me better.  I think he could sense that I was happy keeping
things they way they are.

	The feelings I'm having when I'm with him resonate with the
feelings I had with Cal - almost.  They are very different people, though.
At any rate I haven't let anything physical or emotional happen because of
those very feelings.  I know.  This doesn't make much sense, but then again
neither does my life half the time.

	"Hey, that's us," he said getting up from the bar.  "I swear you're
gonna love the fajitas they serve here.  The best fajitas outside of
Texas," he grinned.

	I smiled, "Heh, ok.  If you say so."

	We were seated at a small table for two against the wall, ordered
our drinks and appetizers and waited for our food.  We made small talk
covering our usual cache of topics: swimming, classes, movies, and a host
of other safe subjects that we'd beaten to death in the past two weeks.
Like I said that's fine by me.  Even though Jeff makes me feel at ease, I'd
rather not go into my personal life with him.  If I do, what am I supposed
to tell him - that I'm this older than average college student putting
himself through school by selling his ass?  I don't think so.  As soon as
he hears that he'd run for the hills.  But I know that sooner or later he's
going to want to know more about me.

	"I'd like to make a toast," Jeff says breaking me out of my
thoughts.  Raising his glass he says, "To the past two weeks and to the
hopes of a long-term friendship."

	I smile, "I'll drink to that."  It really has been great.  It's
been a long time since I let anyone get anywhere as close as Jeff has.  And
it's been... nice.

	He takes another swig of his gin and tonic and then looks down into
his glass like he's contemplating what he's fixing to say, "You know, it's
really been fun swimming with you at the swim center these past couple of
weeks and hanging out for coffee and stuff.  I've enjoyed it a lot." He
looks up from his glass and adds nervously, "Uhm I've really enjoyed being
with you mostly."

	I blush and look down at the table, "Heh, thank you."  I can take
compliments from men who pay for my services but compliments from someone
like Jeff is a little weird.  It's more than weird.  It's unnerving.

	"Now, now.  Don't let it get to that big fat head of yours.  You're
not the only gay swimmer I've run across at the swim center," he jokes back
smacking my arm across the table.

	"Oh really?" I ask raising my eyebrows in mock surprise.  "Is that
a fact?"

	"Yes," he says and then with a serious tone adds, "But you're the
only one that's ever made me act like a total ass with his smile."

	My breath catches and for a second I wonder whether or not I heard
him right.

	"Carlos," he says reaching for my hand, "I like you.  I'd like to
get to know you better...if you'd let me and..."

	"Oh shit," I think to myself.  What am I going to do?  I like him
too but what am I going to tell him?

	"... hoping that you'd feel the same about me..."

	I smile a fake smile at him.  Not that what I feel for him is fake
but right now I'm so nervous that I can't relish this.  I do my best,
really, hoping that he buys it and not see right through me.  Damn, this
was going so good.

	"... don't get me wrong it's been great doing stuff with you but I
got to thinking that I really don't know anything about you..."

	Ok, so what do I do?  Tell him how much of a good time I've getting
to know him but, yeah, by the way there are going to be times I can't go
swimming or go to the movies with you because I need to go get fucked by
someone else so I can pay my rent?  The thing is that before Jeff I've
never had to worry about having to have this kind of interaction with
anybody.  Think about it.  The people I have to work with just want to know
the basics.  Your 'stats', do you bottom, how big is your cock?  Maybe
sometimes people would ask me if I would role play for them and then I
would take on this new personality to have sex but other than that no one
really cared or bothered to get to know the real me, because, you see, it's
all about them.  I've always placed someone else's needs before mine, and
now that someone wants to know something about me I don't know what to say.
The truth?  How well do you think that's going to go?

	Back when I was younger I used to have friends that cared - people
that mattered.  There was a time when I had completely opened myself up
to.... Shit.  That was a long time ago - another life...

"...do you do?" Jeff finishes.

	He'd been going on pouring his heart out while I was lost in my own
panicky thoughts.  "What? I'm sorry."

	"Heh, ok. I know I'm not that boring," he laughs nervously while
still tentatively touching my hand.

	"No!" I reply quickly.  "No, not at all.  It's... It's just that I
haven't eaten all day and what with the drinks and all I guess I am well
past buzzed and on to loopy," I laugh for emphasis.

	"Ok," he says drawing his hand back still smiling.  "What I said,
you buzzed loon, was that I would like to get to know you better.  Find out
more about you.  Like, for instance, what do you do besides swim and
school?  Do you work?  Do you like plastic or paper?"

	"Heh," I had to laugh at that, but aw shit.  Quick.  Think of
something.  "Uhm, well, I work ....uhm in customer s..service," I stammer.

	Jeff just raises his eyebrows asking for more details.

	"And it's just this online slash catalog ordering place downtown.
It helps pay the bills, you know.  Other than that I just pretty much go to
class and swim.  Pretty simple I guess," I say taking a swig of my drink.
"What about you," I ask hoping to get him to talk about himself and forget
about me.

	"Well if you're asking what else I do besides making a fool of
myself in front of gorgeous swimmers and studying to become an underpaid
high school teacher, then I'd have to say that I like hanging out with
friends and roommates, catching a movie, and heading out to the parks to
bike or run."

	"Ok, that's cool," I say not really knowing how to respond to that.
Jeff then starts to laugh a little loudly and I begin to wonder if this is
all a joke to him.  Maybe he's like that other guy Stan from the bar the
other night.  Maybe he already knows I'm a whore who can be had for the
right price and this whole thing is just one big lie.

	"Carlos, Carlos," he says reaching over the table sensing that I'm
getting somewhat confused.  "I'm not making fun of you.  I just think this
is all so comical on some level, you know?"

	"Uhm, no I really don't follow."

	"It's like dating in reverse.  I mean here we are at my favorite
Mexican restaurant having some drinks and getting ready to eat some of the
best fajitas after spending the past couple of weeks enjoying each other's
company and taking each other at face value with no expectations or
assumptions - like we've been friends forever.  But we're not.  I like just
being able to hang out with you and talk about stuff in general and swim
and study and not worry that you're going to think that I'm weird because I
collect Colonial American spoons.  I can just be myself with you."

	I have to laugh at the spoon comment but I'm still a little
confused.  "But I still don't get what's funny about that."

	"Ah, because now I'm sounding like this personal ad where I have to
list everything about me to get you to be interested in me.  I guess I'm
just a little afraid that you might not like who I am or that you might not
want to get to know me that way."

	He's afraid of what I might think of him?  There's something I
hadn't thought of before.  I guess when you're used to dealing with people
who treat you as a sure thing, you're not used to thinking that people
might be wondering what I think of them.

	"Well... are you?"

	I really think about what I'm about to say cause I don't want him
to get the wrong idea.  I do want him but I just can't see myself telling
him the truth, which I know will have to come out sometime.  "Jeff I like
you.  This has been really great the past two weeks with you, but..."

	Jeff throws his head back and groans, "Oh man, I knew it.  I told
myself not to push it and yet I did and look what happens.  I'm scaring you
off.  Why didn't I just...."

	"Jeff...," this time it's me reaching for his hand.

	"....keep my big mouth shut," he says grimacing away from me.

	"Stop it," I say raising my voice a little.

	Jeff abruptly stops in mid sentence and stares back at me in
surprise.

	"Sorry, but it looked like you were just gonna go on forever."

	"Uhm, I'm sorry.  I tend to do that from time to time," he says
sheepishly.

	"Look," I say still holding his hand, "Jeff, I really like you too.
But I'm just not that experienced and comfortable when it comes
to... dating."  Man, this is rough.  Let me tell him the truth - well the
truth that I think he can handle.  "I've dated once or twice and one time
it was really serious but every time I've burned.  And that one time that
it was serious I really thought that was it.  That I'd found the guy I'd be
looking for, but things didn't work out and, now, I find it hard to open up
to people."  I take a breath and look him in the eyes because I want him to
believe what I'm about to tell him.  "Can you understand that?  It's really
not you.  I'm just fucked up that way.  So I just need you to be patient."

	Hanging his head a bit he whispers, "Yeah, I understand."

	"No, I don't think you do.  Look at me."

	He turns his eyes back up at me.

	"I really liked the past two weeks, ok?" I tell him.  "You've
started to make me feel things that I thought I was never going to feel
again."

	"What things?"

	It's my turn to look down and I struggle to explain, "Things, you
know.  Like I can have fun again and... and feel comfortable around
people...well you really.  See, I'm not much of a people person.  I haven't
been for a while."

	"What happened to you?" he says leaning in closer.

	Ok, I really don't want to go there just yet.  "Jeff, I... I'd
rather not talk about it, ok?  I just want you to know that it's not you.
I like you.  I've had and am having a great time, but I'm not ready to go
into a full fledged dating mode and it's going to take me a while to feel I
can trust someone."  At this point I'm whispering and I'm hoping he
understands and does push it anymore.

	He looks at me without saying anything for a few seconds.  I guess
he's trying to assess my sincerity.  He then reaches out and places his
hand over mine.  "Ok.  I understand.  Just promise me that whenever you
feel like you need to talk about anything that you'll think about coming to
me."

	I smile and honestly answer, "Ok I promise."

	The fajitas arrive and we chow down.  All the anxiety had made me
so hungry.  It really was a very nerve wracking experience for me.  I had
decided to open up a little to Jeff and like I said it has been a long time
since I let anyone in this close to me.  On the hand I feel great that I'm
letting Jeff and I get closer but on the other hand I'm terrified.  What if
he bolts when he finds the truth?  What if I've fallen for him when he
decides that I'm not someone he wants to be with.  I don't think I could
take that again.

	Aside from this see saw battle in my head, though, I still feel
moreover happy than upset.  We finish eating our meal and share a desert
and have one final drink before leaving.

	"I'll meet you out front.  Let me run to the restroom," says Jeff
running off to the back of the restaurant.  "Too many gin and tonics," he
grins.

	"Alright," I say and go outside to wait in the front of the
restaurant.

	It's been a couple of minutes when I notice James, the 63 year-old
man I had serviced three weeks ago, coming out of the restaurant with Ian,
another one of Harold's escorts.  Ian's a really nice looking guy of 24
who's been working for Harold for at least 2 years that I know of.  He
looks like your everyday run of the mill GQ model: the perfect blonde hair,
the perfect smooth complexion on his face, the perfect body - not too
overly built and not too lean, the perfect clothes.  He's got really nice
eyes the johns go for.  They are a nice warm blue that seem caring and
gentle.  (We'll see how long he keeps that warmth in this business.)
Everything seems to be perfect in every possible aspect that you can think
of - except one.  He was born with one testicle.  How do I know?  Well
let's just say that he and I've had to do a tag team on several occasions
when one of Harold's clients wants to be double-teamed.  And when the
client is sitting there choreographing your every sexual move by screaming,
"Lick his balls", you notice that he's come just one short of a full set in
the nut department.  He's really a very nice guy but no one seems to ever
forget that he's the Uno guy.

	He and James are coming down the walk and are almost on top of me.
I try and find a place to hide but it's too late.  He's already seen me.

	James lights up, "Carlos, there you are.  Where've have you been.
We've been missing each other lately.  Every time I call Harold tells me
you have the night off.  So he finally convinced me to take Ian out for a
spin."

	Shit! As much as I like James he sometimes forgets what tact is all
about.  Somehow I've got to communicate to Ian to take James out of here
quick.  "Uhm, hey, James!" I grin broadly trying to remain cordial and hide
my nervousness.  I look to Ian and give him a look that this is not a good
idea to for us to be out here talking.  "Ian," I say his name acknowledging
his presence.

	"Carlos," he replies with a tone of professional courtesy.

	"Oh I see you know each other.  That's great!" James says obviously
delighted.  He then gets this look and somehow I just know what he's gonna
ask, "Say, would you like to come over?  Ian and I just finished eating are
headed back to my house and I'd love to see you two go at it.  With all
this food I don't think I could take a round with either one of you so
maybe I could just get off by watching."

	"Uhm, gee, James I'm sorry, but I don't..."

	"Oh don't be jealous, Carlos.  You know I love being with you but
like I said I haven't been able to get a hold of you.  But that doesn't
matter now.  You're here and now we can all have fun together.  I'm sure
Ian would love to get his dick into this," he says while squeezing my ass
for emphasis.

	Heh, the funny thing is that Ian's cock has been in my ass already.
But who cares about that right now.  I just want to get them away from here
before....

	"Hey, what'd I miss?"

	I turn around and see that Jeff has made it back from the bathroom.

	"Oh!" exclaims James.  "I'm sorry I didn't realize you were already
taken for the night."  He eyes Jeff appreciatively, "It doesn't look like
he would need to ever call Harold.  He should be able to find anyone he
wants without having to pay.  That doesn't make sense?  What's wrong with
him?"

	"Who's Harold!?" asks Jeff.

	I just close my eyes and grimace, but I try and not let it show
that this is getting to me.  Here I was doing my best to hide this part of
my life from Jeff when in just a few seconds it just might all come out.
I've got to remain in control.

	Just then Ian speaks up.  "I'm sorry guys for crashing in on your
'date', but my uncle gets this way when he changes his meds."  He turns to
James and whispers something in his ear.

	It looks like a light goes off in his head and then he turns around
to me and Jeff, "I'm sorry boys but my nephew and I need to get home really
quick!"

	Ian just winks and gently nudges James to the parking lot.

	Jeff gets this funny look on his face and takes it in stride,
"Yeah, well I want whatever meds you're having.  Save me some for later."

	I just smile and wordlessly thank Ian for whatever it is that he
told James.  "See ya guys."

	"You two get into a whole mess of trouble now and I really mean get
messy," laughs out James.

	Jeff chuckles and shakes his head, "Man, that guy is a fucking
riot.  Oh and don't believe for a second that that guy he was with was his
nephew."

	My face loses it's color and my stomach sinks to my knees,
"What..."

	"Oh come on now.  That guy was a total hustler escort type.  Check
out his clothes.  He looks like he fell off the International Male sale
rack."

	So much for Jeff and I sharing clothes if this works out.  I really
hadn't noticed what Ian had been wearing but looking out at them getting
into their car I see that Ian had some pretty tight jeans that showed off
his ass really well and an International Male type shirt that was almost
sheer.  I think he looked good, though.  He had the body to pull it off.
Oh, it's not like I find the guy romantically interesting.  This is just
professional appreciation of the total package.

	"You really think he'd dress like that to go have dinner with his
uncle?  I sure as hell wouldn't.  Besides, they don't even remotely look
alike.  He's blonde, blue-eyed, and tall while his 'uncle' looks like he
was at home with the rest of the guidos in the Bronx circa 1955.  But,
still, I can't blame for his taste in butts."

	I just stay quiet and don't say anything for a bit.

	"So, what next?," he says as we start walking to his car.  "Are you
up for some ice cream? I know this really cool ice cream shop up north
about 10 minutes from here."

	"I dunno, Jeff.  Fajitas, drinks, chips and salsa, and then ice
cream sounds a bit too daring for me and my stomach," I say.  In truth I'm
just a little more worried now about what he will eventually think of me
once he finds out that Ian and I are co-workers.

	"Well then howsabout you just sit there and look handsome while I
chow down on some Rocky Road?" he says as we pull out of the parking lot.
He starts playing some Ace of Bass on the tape player.

	Shit.  On the one hand I really do like him, but something in the
back of my mind is telling my to take this slow.  I know we're just going
for ice cream, but don't you ever get the feeling sometimes that a date
should end?  That if you keep going then you're gonna find out stuff way
too soon?  Maybe it's just my paranoia kicking in.  "Uhm, Jeff, if you
don't mind, could you just drop me off?  I'd like a rain check on the ice
cream."

	He looks over at my with his brow creased with concern, "Hey, I'm
totally not married to the idea of ice cream.  We can go somewhere else if
you want."

	"Nah, I've had way too much to drink and with all that food I'm
getting kinda sleepy," I halfway lie to him.  I am sleepy and worn out from
the mental anxiety that was this meal, but I know I can easily drink Jeff
under the table if I had to.

	"Alright," he says pulling in some place to turn around.  He stays
quiet for a second and then turns to look at me.  "Are you sure you're ok?
I don't want you walking off thinking that I'm some sort of freak.  I
didn't come on too strong for you?"

	I genuinely smile, "No, Jeff, you're fine.  I don't think you're a
freak."

	"Even though I collect spoons?  Cause I do just so you know.  I
have this really cool spoon that was used by George Bush when he puked in
Japan at that economic conference.  Some Japanese caterer saved it and sold
it as a collector's item."

	I laugh, "No.  It's a bit odd but I don't think you're a freak.  I
just want to go home."

	"Ok."

	He drives toward the campus area and pulls up to my apartment
complex.  It's a small complex with only 8 units.  It's not much but it's
home.

	"Thanks again for dinner.  I had a really good time," I say facing
him in the car.  It's a little awkward now.  I'm not sure if I'm supposed
to shake his hand, hug him, or kiss him or hell even all three.  All my
'other' dates usually end by me taking the wad of money and leaving for the
nearest night deposit drop.

	"No prob.  It was my pleasure.  I hope we can do this some more,"
he says.  "Do you still wanna swim tomorrow?  I figure since its Saturday
that we'll have the swim center all to ourselves."

	"Sure that would be great."

	We stay quiet for a second with the car idleing.  I guess we both
don't know what to say.  Then Jeff leans over grabbing my arms, "Oh fuck
it."  He pulls me towards him firmly and plants a nice but chaste kiss on
my lips.  It freaks me out for a second but then I laugh.

	"There, that wasn't so scary was it?'

	"No I guess not.  Very quick hit and run but not scary."

	"Oh, sorry.  How's this."  He puts his hand on my face and draws me
closer.  His hand feels nice and soft and gentle on my skin.  I can still
smell the soap from the restaurant bathroom on his hands.  His lips brush
mine very softly and they moisten mine every so slightly.  It's the first
time in a long time that I actually feel a kiss and not 'perform' a kiss on
someone.  Damn, this could be so nice, but...

	"Hey," I say breaking away.  "Thanks again for dinner and for
everything but I really should get to bed."

	I can tell that he's a little bit disappointed but he hides it.
"Ok.  I'll see you tomorrow, cutie."

	I smile back.  "Goodnight"


-1987-

	"Pass the salt, would ya?"

	"Here you go."  I pass Cal the salt.  The spaghetti's ok but I
agree with him.  It does need a little bit of salt.  He and I are at a
restaurant out of town with the rest of the debate team.  We've just
concluded a tournament here where as a team we didn't do too badly.  My
partner and I did well.  We made it as far as the quarterfinals where we
were beat by another team that was just way better than us.  Cal and his
partner on the other hand only won 2 of their 4 preliminary rounds.  So
they spent most of the day just hanging out waiting for us to finish.

	"Are you going to eat your bread?" asks Ramon.

	"No here go ahead you have it," I answer absentmindedly.  Ramon was
my debate partner.  It's amazing how far we advance in a tournament when he
spends most of the rounds eating a cupcake instead preparing for his next
speech.  What ends up happening is that I write his speech while preparing
my own and listening to the other team deliver theirs.  Man, I'm gonna grow
up as the world's best multi-tasker.

	"So, you and Chris beat the Central team, huh?" mumbles Ramon with
bread in his mouth.

	"Yeah, I guess we got their C team or something.  The kids must
have been a freshman cause that tie he was wearing was hanging well below
his crotch," replies Chris.

	Cal doesn't say anything - as usual.  Well as usual since this is
the way he's been since last week when he was at my place.  Ever since that
almost kiss he's become more withdrawn.  I guess when you break up with
your girlfriend, begin to reevaluate your life and friends, and then almost
kiss your male best friend in a span of two weeks you'd want to just take a
break from life and not say anything.  But, this silence is scaring me.  We
haven't talked about what happened at all and I'm afraid I'm going to lose
him altogether.  I know I still love him.  I just need to give him time, I
guess.  Hell I don't know.  It's not like I can run up to my dad and ask
him for advice on this one.

	"So tell me about the East Side A team," Chris asks me.  "Is Billie
Houston as smart as she is hot?"

	"Heh, well I guess; even though, we did kick her ass.  Although I
suspect that she's won more rounds by wearing low cut dresses and leaning
over the podium whenever she has a guy judge," I answer.

	"Hooo man!  To be her partner - what I wouldn't do," hoops Chris.

	"Ha," cries out Ramon.  "I really don't think you want to be her
partner.  The guy she's with is a total fag."

	"Really?" chimes in Chris.

	"Yeah, he's got like this two tone hair and his carrying case has
all these George Michael stickers," replies Ramon.

	"You can tell he's a totally fruit cake like that?"

	"Oh, it's not only that.  You should see...."

	Ramon and Chris carry on.  I look across the table to Cal and he's
not even looked up.  He looks totally absorbed in his food.  I really don't
know what to make of Ramon and Chris' conversation.  They're not really my
good friends but it does bother me a little about what they are saying
about that gay debater.  Ok, I know the guy is gay.  He's obviously gay.
But I guess like him I will soon have to deal with all these gay slurs.

	Shit!

	Gay.

	It's one thing to be hated by your class in high school.  That
stigma will go away once I go away to college.  But this gay...thing will
go with me the rest of my life!  Maybe it won't be so bad for me.  I'm sure
as hell not like that other debater who advertises with his stickers and
mannerisms.  I don't think I'm that obvious.  But what's it gonna be like
for me when I'm older.  Is it that I really only love Cal or am I gonna
meet other guys?  And then the whole gay sex thing - sounds gross to me.
Don't get me wrong.  When I see Cal without his shirt or when we're
swimming my body starts churning those hormones.  It makes me want to do
things to those legs, that chest, that mouth.  But, I've never thought
about that down there.  That's way too eeew for me.

	"You guys ready?" asks Ramon.

	Chris and Ramon have finished eating and are heading back to the
hotel across the parking lot.

	"I'll be there in a minute.  I'm still eating," I reply.

	Cal answers, "Yeah, be there in a bit."

	"Ok, see ya."  They leave.

	We're alone for the first time since the time in my room.  At
school we've always been around someone else like Anna or Chris. He stays
quiet and doesn't look my way.  It's like I'm not even there. Damn it, I
can't stand this anymore!  "Damn it, Cal!  What the fuck is going on," I
say slamming my hand on the table.

	He stops in mid chew and looks at me stunned.  "What... what are
you talking about," he stammers.

	I sigh in desperation.  "Cal, please let's not do this like this.
You know what I'm talking about."

	His eyes begin to tear and he looks away from me.  It looks like
he's about to bolt.  "No, I don't."

	"Oh really?  And that's why you're going to start crying?"

	His face begins to flush red and he puts his napkin to his mouth.
"Please, Carlos, don't.  Not now."

	"Well if not now, when?  You've been like this for a week.  You
don't talk to me.  You don't even want to look at me.  Considering what we
just went through with the whole Yvette shit you'd think we can talk to
each other," I whisper animatedly.

	He looks back at me and it's then that I notice how close he's been
to losing it all week.  Whatever he's feeling is starting to bubble up to
the surface.  He's fighting to maintain composure but he's not winning that
battle.  "Please, Carlos, I'm so sorry about what happened."

	Huh?  What's he talking about?  He's sorry?

	"Can we go somewhere else where we can talk," he says looking
around the restaurant nervously.

	"Ok," I respond realizing that this is probably not the place to
talk.  "Let's go to the school bus.  I don't think anyone is in it right
now."

	We pay the bill in silence and head out to the bus.  Everyone else
is in the hotel getting their stuff packed up so we can head back home.  We
head to the back of the bus and we sit across from each other on the seats.

	I'm a lot calmer now that I've gotten him to start some talking.
"Cal?  What's going on?"

	"I'm sorry.  I'm just fucking everything up," he replies not
looking at me.

	"What are you talking about?  How are you fucking everything up?"

	"I just am," he begins to weep.  "Everything is all fucked up."

	I crawl across to his seat and try and pick him up from the floor
of the bus where he's let his body slump.

	"No, Carlos, don't.  Just ... just don't," he says fighting off my
hands.

	"Ok, man, you're beginning to freak me out here.  I don't know what
you're talking about.  Why are you crying?"

	He starts sobbing harder now and chokes on his words, "I'm ...I'm
so sssorry."

	I throw my head back on the seat in frustration and sigh again.  I
resign myself to take the lead on this.  "Cal, if this is about what
happened last week in my room, you didn't fuck anything up."

	He turns and looks at me with tears still in his eyes, "You don't
hate me?"

	I squat down next to him on the floor.  It's a little cramped.
"No, I don't. Listen I thought you hated me for what almost happened.
There I was telling you I love you and everything and then I almost kiss
you.  I would have if it weren't for my brother.  I thought I was the one
who fucked up.  You're the one who stopped talking to me and I just thought
you were pissed."

	He chuckles in frustration.  "Oh man.  I thought it was all me.
That's why I couldn't face you or say anything," he says rubbing the bridge
of his nose. "I'm just going through so much lately, you know?
Everything's been turned upside down since I broke up with Yvette.
Actually even before that things started to get really weird.  But now
everything is happening as super speed and I can't catch my breath."

	Oh my god.  He really wanted to kiss me.  I hadn't imagined
everything.  There was something there after all.  It's beginning to hit me
but I'm still not sure how this is going to play out.

	Cal continues.  "Yvette fucked me up and finding out what jerks all
my other 'friends' were was also a bitch.  But finding out what I was like
and really felt has really thrown me for loop.  I took a long hard look at
myself and found someone who didn't even know.  He scares me."

	"Who did you find, Cal?" I ask.

	"Someone else.  This other person that's me but I had no idea that
he even existed.  The people he thought he cared about were nothing but
assholes and jerks.  That what I was feeling for Yvette wasn't real.  It
was something fake and made-up - something that I was supposed to do so
that I could fit in like everyone."

	"Didn't you love her?" I probe further.

	"In a way maybe I did.  I know I cared about her and her family.
It really did hurt me to find out about her dad getting sick.  He really is
a nice man.  He doesn't deserve that, you know?  But now that I look at
what Yvette and I had I realize that I didn't really love her like a
girlfriend and she really didn't make me feel all that loved either.  Like
I told you before I was just playing out a role.  It could have been anyone
for her.  Now that I look back I never got the feeling in the pit of your
stomach when you know you really love someone with all your heart."

	Ok wait a minute.  I know for a fact that Cal in his 17 years has
only gone out with one person and that's been Yvette.  So how does he know
what that funny feeling in your stomach feels like?

	"After we broke up," he continues, "I opened my eyes for the first
time and I saw, I really saw and felt."  He looks up from the floor of the
bus and looks at me.  I really can't see much of his face since it's dark
in the bus yet I can sense him looking at me now.  "And when I did there
you were like always.  Right next to me."

	I'm getting goose bumps and I slump even further on the floor of
the bus with him.

	"And then you start telling me how much you love me; even though it
was like in a friendship way, and I start to really see even more.  It was
like "Oh my God" you were right here all this time."

	"What are you saying, Cal?"  I need to hear him say it.  I don't
want to get the wrong idea.  I need to hear it from him.

	"I'm saying that the person I really love, the person I've only
really ever loved, is you."  He looks back down to the floor.

	Everything freezes.  I can hear the noise of the restaurant outside
in the dark.  I can hear the cars of the highway in the distance and even
make out the occasional creak of the bus as it settles in the cooler night
air.  I know.  I know I'm going to remember this moment forever.  It's like
the universe is recording this moment in my head with sounds and the feel
of the of the gravely, dirty floor beneath me and the coarse fake leather
cover of the seat beneath my hands.  In the future there will be nights
like tonight or I'll be on some other dirty dingy floor and I'll remember.
I'm never going to forget.

	I must have been silent for a few seconds but it felt like an hour.
Cal takes this as a bad sign and starts to apologize and cry again.
"Carlos, I'm...I'm s.."

	I put my fingers to his lips to silence him.  They feel warm and
wet against my skin.  He doesn't say anything while I move my fingers
across his face gently and mix them in with his tears.

	"Shhhh..." I whisper.  "Don't be sorry."

	He turns his face into my hand and sighs.  I can see his body
release all the tension he'd been holding in.  I pull him up to the seat
where we have more room and slowly bring his body to mine.

	Finally he can look me in the eye.  "Carlos?"

	"Yeah?" I whisper back.

	"Do you love me?" his face is inches from mine.  His eyes glisten
and shine with the tears and the lights from the restaurant.  It's totally
dark except for that.

	"Yes," I answer.

	We both move closer.  My eyes close and I feel my way toward his
mouth.  He brushes his lips gently over mine.  It's tentative and skittish
at first but the kiss grows more confident.  It connects us - our spirits
mingling and bursting back and forth between us.  And within each other
they find themselves at home.  God, I don't know how else to describe this.
This is nothing like kissing Anna.  I so don't want this to end.

	My hand finds it's way to his face and caresses his cheek.  We
break the kiss and I nuzzle my way down his neck.  He gasps in pleasure
throwing his head back giving me more access.  He pulls my face up again
and he looks me in the eyes.  He leans in cradling my face in his hands and
we kiss again - this time with less restraint and more conviction.

	"Hey, Chris, you seen Cal or Carlos yet?" Off in the distance I
hear Ramon yell out.

	"No.  Maybe their still in the restaurant having dessert," I hear
Chris a little bit closer.

	Cal and I quickly pull apart and I jump to the opposite seat.
We're both flushed and disheveled.  I swear anyone catching the sight of us
now will know what we've been doing.  We both frantically start
straightening out our shirts and try somewhat re-comb our hair hoping that
Chris is headed to the restaurant first before looking on the bus.

	"Fuck," Cal says whispers nervously.

	"Shhh.  Don't say anything.  Maybe he won't come here."

	Then we hear Ramon yell out, "Hey bring me back some hostess
cupcakes, ok?"

	"Ok," we hear Chris answer but this time further away than he was
before.  I realize he must be heading to the store across the street for
some snacks before we leave.

	We both let out a collective sigh of relief.

	"Damn, I that was close," groans Cal.

	I bury my face in my hands and exhale a real long breath.  Oh my
god, I can't just believe what happened.  I kissed him.  He kissed me back.
Oh my fucking god this isn't happening.  Isn't it?  It's all sinking in
now.

	"Carlos?" I hear home come closer and feel the seat sink with his
weight.  He starts rubbing my back.  "Carlos?  Are you ok?"

	God that feels so good.  I sit back up and lean into him a little
bit.  He puts his other hand on my knee and rubs my leg through the fabric
of my jeans.

	"Hey," he whispers into my ear.  "Are you ok?"

	I look into his eyes and see worry and concern and anxiety all
mixed together.  He's so close and he's touching me and it's so unreal.  I
pull him closer to me and kiss him again but this time more deliberate and
gentle.  It's a kiss to let him know and also to reassure me that this is
ok.  "I'm fine," I murmur into his mouth.

	We're both calmer now and continue to hold each other in the dark.
"I can't believe this is happening," I say.

	"Are you sure you're ok with this," Cal asks.

	"Oh yeah, I'm sure.  You have no idea how long I've been wanting
this."

	"Really?" he speaks softly into my cheek.  His head is resting
against my shoulder now.  "I had no idea you felt like this."

	"And I never ever would have believed you felt the same way about
me."  I pause for second and think how all this came to pass.  "Hey, let me
ask you something."

	"Shoot."

	"Not that I want this moment to end or anything.  Gawd, I wish we
could stay like this forever, but why do you love me?"  I know.  Here I am
in the arms of the boy I love and I'll can do is question why it is he
loves me.  Lifting his head up from my shoulder he looks me in the eyes.
"You have to ask?"

	"Well I'm curious.  I'm just me.  Why would you love me?"

	"I can ask the same of you, you know."

	"Go right ahead," I respond huskily and enthusiastically.  "I'll be
happy to tell you."

	"They're many reasons why I love you, Carlos.  And I'm finding out
new ones everyday.  I wish you could see yourself through someone else's
eyes."

	"Heh, I guess I'm not used to seeing myself like that."

	"Listen, I know there's a lot to talk about - stuff we need to get
out in the open.  But what do you say for right now we just go with this
for right now.  Let's not worry about the rest of the world until we got
off this bus.  Then we'll deal with all that.  Ok?"

	"Ok," I respond.

	He rolls his head on the seat close to me again and kisses my
forehead.  "Good.  I figure we have about 5 more minutes before we hear
Chris coming back with Ramon's mid-evening snack.  What do you think 3 or 4
packs of cupcakes?"

	I laugh, "You're such an ass!  I'm guessing 3 since he only had one
during the quarterfinal round."

	He smirks and kisses me again.  We steal another 15 minutes or so
on the bus holding and loving each other.  We take care not to muss each
other up any more so we don't have to explain to the others they way we
look.  Chris came crunching along the pavement back to the hotel and we
managed to duck down enough in the seat for him not to see us.  After we
heard the door to his room slam we decided it was time for us to face the
rest of the world and get off the bus.

	"Are you ready?" I ask.

	"Yeah, as ready as I'll ever be."

	"Ok."

	Getting off the bus we head to our rooms.  We decided to tell the
rest of the gang that we had gone off for a walk to talk about the whole
Yvette mess, which is partly true.  Besides that would be more believable
since the whole school has been talking about the breakup since it
happened.  So we didn't arouse any suspicion.

	An hour later we're headed home after getting everything loaded on
the bus.  Cal and I sit near the middle of the bus across from each other.
We figure this to be the prudent thing to do.  The bus is one of the larger
buses and it's not even half full and it would look odd for two guys
sitting together in one seat.  The back of the bus is full of our luggage,
carrying cases, and the other debaters.  Ever notice how the back of any
school bus is where all the action happens.

	Throughout the ride home I catch Cal looking at me and a couple of
times I see him mouth the words "I love you" with the aid of the passing
street lights illuminating the highway.  I smile back and relay the same to
him.  Gawd, I can't get over this wonderful feeling.  This amazing feeling
of being connected with someone - it's like coming home.

	However, the closer we get home I can't shake the feeling that the
rest of the world is going to come crashing in.  There are ramifications to
all this, namely Anna.  I really love here but not like I love Cal.  I
honestly don't know what I'm going to do.  The thought of hurting her and
putting her through something like this is not right - not after everything
she's done for me.  Except I can't help the way I feel.  Aside from Anna
what about my family and Cal's family?  What are we going to do if they
find out?  Man, this can get really, really nasty.  Cal and I really do
have a lot to talk about.

	Eventually we make it home when it's almost midnight.  My brother
is there to pick me up.  Ever since he's gotten his learner's permit and
dad has shown him how to drive, he's been taking every opportunity to take
the car out.  Hell, he's even here to pick me up.  Cal had left his car
yesterday here at school and starts packing his stuff in it.

	I wave to my brother and tell him to give me a minute.  "Cal?" I
say coming up behind him as he finished packing his trunk.  "What are you
doing tomorrow morning?  Are you up to doing anything?"

	"For you I'll be free," he smiles.  "My parents are going to want
me to go to church but I'll beg off by saying I'm worn out from the trip.
Do you want to come over around 9 or so in the morning?"

	I look at him and remind myself that this is all worth it.  That
everything we're going to face we're going to face together.  "Yeah, that's
cool."  I want to kiss him but I know I cant' with everyone including my
brother so close.

	Sensing my frustration he says, "I know.  You can make it up to me
tomorrow morning."

	"Ok," I say backing up and heading to the car.  I can't stop
grinning. I know my brother is gonna think I'm completely whacked in the
head.  "I'll see you tomorrow."

	Smiling with his arms crossed his chest and leaning against the
trunk he tells me goodbye.  Still walking backyards I can see him and he
mouths the words "I love you" again.


--1995-
	"Clean-up on aisle six, please.  Clean-up on six," whines out a
voice on the speaker temporarily cutting out the shopping music.

	It's Tuesday, 4 days after my date with Jeff and I'm at the grocery
store picking up a few things: toothpaste, some ground beef, bread, milk
and Anusol.  Hey, perils of the job.  I'm going to need it especially after
the guy I did last night.  He fucked me for over 2 hours.  I normally don't
go for the guys that want to go over the one hour limit but this guy paid
for two hours and tipped really well, which is good since I've cut back
some to go out with Jeff.  I need the money to pay a few bills.

	After our date on Friday night Jeff and I spent Saturday morning
doing a grueling workout at the pool - 3200-yards.  Afterwards we had lunch
and took in a movie.  Again I had a good time.  He kept being his usual
self: cracking jokes, being flirty with the cute teenage boy at the movie
concession stand, and holding my hand in the movie theater.  Now that was
...how can I put it... awesome!  That simple act of just holding my hand
went a long with me to convince me that he really did want to be with me.
There wasn't a door he didn't open for me nor did he let me spend a dime.
He showered me with attention.  Oh my god, and speaking of showers, you
should have seen what he did after we finished swimming.  There we were in
the showers alone.  No, he didn't try anything too forward, but he did
squeeze my ass.  He leaned in dripping wet and said he had to sample some
what that old geezer at the restaurant had.  His touch felt so different
from all the other times I have been touched that way by so many other men.

	The rest of the time when we weren't swimming or quiet in the movie
we talked about his life: where he's from, his family, etc... I really
liked the fact that he didn't push to know anything about me.  So I got to
hear all about him.  He's the oldest of 4 siblings, a brother and two
sisters.  His parents are both doctors in San Antonio (his hometown) and
each are a part of a practice in their respective fields - hence his need
not to work.  Throughout high school he was a swim jock and his family
attended every one of his meets.  He even brought a picture where he posed
with his family after having won the 200-meter breaststroke event.  Man,
that picture looked awesome.  He's so lucky to have a family like that.  I
miss it.

	In such a large family like his he had to learn growing up to be
very direct and outspoken.  Being the oldest his parents focused more on
his younger brother and sisters and every now and then he had to say,
"Hello, I'm over here!"  Well that's the way he put it.  With such a
formative experience as that he's not afraid to speak his mind nor does he
apologize for his life or who he is.  For instance being gay is such a
non-issue for him.  He came out to his parents in high school when after a
brief time with a girlfriend he fell in love with another one of the other
guys on the swim team.  They had been dating for a couple of months when he
decided that he couldn't live a double life hiding his true self from his
parents.  After telling them he said his parents were edgy about it all but
soon they came around and accepted him.

	School wasn't as easy though.  When the rest of the team and the
school found out about them he and his boyfriend got harassed by a several
typical high school bullies.  In the end it all worked out.  One day at
school after helping the team win their district title he got picked on
again.  He'd had enough so he grabbed one of the guys in front of him and
slammed him into the ground really hard.  It stunned everyone who was
watching.  And right there in front of the whole school he told everyone
who'd been hassling him to back off.  And that he was much more of a man
than all these bullies in front of him.  At the end of his speech the
majority team members moved to stand behind him.  They said that if anyone
had a problem with him that they would have a problem with them as well.
After that he and his boyfriend were left alone.

	Wow!  His high school years couldn't have been more different than
mine.  <Sigh>

	Now he's here in college getting ready to graduate and teach high
school English and hopefully coach some high school swim team.  I know he'd
make an awesome coach.  Already in 3 weeks he's helped me improve some of
my times by an average of 5 seconds.

	"Carlos?" I hear someone coming up from behind me in the cereal
aisle.  I turn around and see Ian.  He's dressed much like me warm-ups,
sweatshirt, and tennis shoes.  It's starting to get even cooler as we head
towards the Thanksgiving holiday.

	"Hey, Ian.  What's up?"

	"Not much.  Just picking up a few things I need."

	"Cool.  Hey thanks again for the other night at the restaurant.
You really saved me from an embarrassing situation."

	He grins, "Hey, no problem.  James is a character.  Though I have
to admit he is a sweetheart.  Most of the night he spent showing me
pictures and telling me stories of his ex-lover who died.  They seemed very
happy the way he tells it."

	"Yeah, he'll do that the first time you go with him, then after
that he'll get more sexual on you," I tell him.  "Don't freak out of he
starts calling out his lover's name in the middle of it, though.  The first
time he did that it threw more for a second but then I just went with it.
It makes him happy."

	"Thanks for the tip."  He moves his cart out of another shopper's
way.  "Speaking of his lover he mentioned that he thinks one of the
cleaning ladies took one of the pictures he had in a frame in his bathroom.
He insists that this one gal, Lydia, took it because she's mentioned how
good looking his lover was in that picture."

	"Uh, really?" Shit.  Now I feel bad.  That's the picture that ended
up flushed down my toilet. Realizing that we're causing a traffic jam in
the cereal aisle we move towards the produce department where there is more
room to talk.  "Did he seem really upset?"

	"Not really."  He picks up a cantaloupe and thumps it.  "He says
the really important pictures are the ones he keeps on his nightstand by
his bed.  He's just annoyed thinking that there's someone trying to steal
from him.

	"Hey," he continues, "so who's that guy you were with the other
night?  He's really cute.  Is he the reason I've picked up some of your
regular johns lately?"

	I feel myself immediately blush, "Yeah, we're kinda sorta dating."

	"That's great," he grins back.  "Great for you and for me.  You get
a nice boyfriend and I make extra money."

	I laugh.  "Yeah, that's one way of looking at it."

	He gets this serious look on his face and whispers so no one can
hear us in the produce area, "Does he know about what you do?"

	"Uh, no."

	"Damn, that's harsh.  What are you going to do?  Are you going to
tell him?" He asks with genuine concern.

	Damn, like this isn't something I've tossed around in my head for
the past couple of weeks. "Uhm, I ... I haven't..."

	Perceiving my frustrating he cuts me off gently, "Oh.  I'm sorry.
I don't mean to be nosy.  I know what it's like to date someone and have to
deal with the whole hustling scene."

	"It's ok.  I just really don't know what to do?"

	We look at each other and a mutual understanding passes between us
- an understanding based on the hazards of our shared profession.
Sometimes I forget that I'm not the only one who has to deal with all the
crap that comes from being a hustler.

	"That's cool, man," he says with empathy.  Then with a light
hearted tone he invites me over to his place.  "Hey, you want to come over
to my place and watch a video?  I just rented Forrest Gump.  Have you seen
it yet?"

	"Actually, I haven't."  Maybe I should hang out with him.  It
wouldn't be like I was putting my heart out on the line here or that he or
I are using this as an excuse for sex.  I think the last thing we'd want to
have is sex.  Besides we've done it already with each other.  I don't see
the risk.  "Yeah sure that'd be cool.  Let me just take my groceries home
and I'll be over in say an hour?"

	He agrees and gives me his address, which is not too far from my
apartment.  Before we leave he looks into my cart and sees the Anusol.  He
looks up and gets this knowing grin on his face and pats my arm in
understanding.  "Thanks for reminding me.  I'm out at home."

	An hour later (it's around 5:00pm or so) I'm at his door with some
beers.  He greets me at the door wearing some boxer shorts and a t-shirt.
"I hope you don't mind the casual attire.  Besides, it's not like you
haven't seen what I've got to offer," he says jokingly.

	"No prob, man," I reply.

	"Let me put these in the fridge," he says taking the six-pack and
walking to the kitchen.  "Make yourself at home.  There's a coat closet you
can hang your jacket right by the door."

	"Ok," I say.  I take off my jacket and decide to shuck my shoes,
socks, and sweatshirt leaving me clad in my jeans and t-shirt.  When he
gets back with two iced mugs of beer I'm flipping through some of the
workout magazines on the coffee table.

	"Thanks," I say taking a mug.

	He flops down at the other end of the couch and we start talking
shop about some of the guys we've had working for Hal.  It turns out that
both of us have done some of the same guys and we compare notes - like the
Spanish professor from the university who lives like a pig.  We both
laughed when we started to describe the same t-shirt that was encrusted
with dried macaroni noodles.  The freak actually wore the same shirt
without laundering after 2 weeks (the time in between my visit and Ian's
visit to his place).  Then there's the paraplegic in the wheel chair who we
both find to be an incredibly amazing individual.  We both agree the guy's
a brilliant person who just needs companionship just like every one else.

	Two beers later we're still talking when the conversation starts
hitting really close to home. "So, how did you end up hustling?"

	I pause.  There's a lot more at stake with Jeff, but here with Ian
it's different.  Can I trust him?  I'm not sure.  Maybe this can be my
practice run with Jeff.  "Uhm, well that's a long story.  Let's just say
that the hours are good and the pay is great."  I guess not.

	"Ok, that's a bullshit answer if I've ever heard one.  I know it is
because that's what I used to believe about this gig when I first started
out."  He says leaning back in the corner of the sofa.

	Damn.  What's the saying?  You can't fool a fool or something like
that.  "Ah ... well you got me on that one," I laugh.

	He half smiles back, "It's ok.  I'll respect your privacy."

	"Thanks."

	"Well I have no problems telling you why I started doing this."  He
holds his arms up and directs my attention to his body.  "You see this?
This is all I have to offer the world and I need to get the most out of it
before the nickel runs out."

	He must be joking.  "Are you kidding me?"

	"No, really.  This is it.  My best asset."  He leans forward on the
couch.  "Look, I know I'm not what you call smart.  I'm not going to
college and I'm not going to be some lawyer or doctor or rich business
executive.  I figure in a couple of years after saving some money from
doing this I'll open up an auto mechanic shop or auto parts store.  In the
meantime I'm going to make the most of what I have."

	"Auto mechanic?" With his GQ looks he wants to be an auto mechanic?

	"What's wrong with that?" he jokingly challenges me.

	"Nothing!  I just never pictured you as the auto mechanic type," I
say raising my hands in mock surrender.

	He snorts humorously.  "There are such things as gay mechanics, you
know?  People of our tribe are good at other things besides modeling,
flowers, and sex."

	"Ok, you've got a point," I laugh.

	"Hey, I'm gonna get another beer.  Want one?"

	"Sure," I say.

	Ian gets up to go to the kitchen and I find the remote and turn the
TV on.  I figure we should start the movie.  "Ian?  I'm gonna pop the movie
in, ok?" I yell in the direction of the kitchen.

	"Ok, man.  Be right there."

	The screen flickers to life and I click over to channel 3 so we can
play the tape on the VCR.  I hit play and realize that this remote doesn't
seem to work with the VCR.  Ian walks back in.  "Oh, yeah.  That remote
doesn't work for the VCR.  You have to actually walk over and hit play.  I
lost the remote that worked both the TV and the VCR and I've been meaning
to replace but I keep forgetting."

	The TV is on the local channel getting ready to show the 6:00
o'clock news when Ian moves over to the TV.  As he walks over I raise the
volume and before he gets to hit play the anchorwoman starts talking.
"Good evening everyone.  I'm Janet Reese.  Thank you for joining us.  At
this moment our news team is working on breaking news from the downtown
district where just a few hours ago the body of young male was found
savagely murdered in the room of the Eastland Motor Lodge.  For more on
this developing story let's go live to David Grimes who's on the scene."

	Ian and I both freeze.  The Eastland Motor Lodge is one of the
places where we take our clients who need to be discreet.

	The telecast continues shifting to the field reporter bathed in
lights.  In the background I can make out the familiar doors of the motor
lodge.  I can see a bunch of uniformed guys milling around.  "Thank you
Janet.  At approximately 3:45 pm this afternoon a motel housekeeping
employee made a grisly discovery when she went in to room 205 to do her
regular cleaning.  What she found when she entered the room was the body of
22 year old Tim Hegemon who from all accounts appears to have been brutally
murdered.  Police are not revealing any specific details but initial
reports from the housekeeper have her describing the body as been
completely gutted.  Police and EMT personnel arrived shortly thereafter at
around 3:55pm and quickly sealed the room and set up a one block perimeter
to collect and search for evidence."

	Ian sinks to the floor while my blood begins to freeze.  This can't
be happening.  Not again.

	"Oh my god," whispers Ian in shock.  "That's Tim, the muscle head.
I just saw him the other day at Harold's house."

	The TV screen splits in two showing both the anchorwoman and the
field reporter at the same time.  "David," the woman continues, " what can
you tell us about Mr. Hegemon?  Is there any word on the victim from the
authorities?"

	"Well, Janet, the police are keeping a pretty tight lid on any
further information getting out before notifying his next of kin.  However,
our Channel 3 research staff did do a search of the police blotter for the
past two years and have found that Mr. Hegemon had been arrested before
during a sting operation two years ago targeting male prostitution.  Other
than that we still don't know anything else."

	"Any word on a motive or possible suspects, David?" asks the
anchorwoman.

	"No, Janet.  At this time police have no motive or leads on
possible suspects.  They are still interviewing witnesses and are asking
anyone who was at this motel or near the motel between noon and 3:00pm this
afternoon to call with any information they have."

	"Thank you Steve for your report."  The anchor turns back to face
the cameras.  "Channel 3 will bring you the latest information on this case
as they develop.  In other news..."

	The TV screen goes blank.  I let the remote fall in my hand on to
my lap.  This is so fucked up.  "Oh my god."

	Ian sits on the floor with his knees drawn to his chest and he's
head hanging in between his legs.  "I think I'm going to be sick."  His
voice is all choked up.

	I drop off the couch and crawl on the floor over to Ian.  He looks
up and there's tears welling up in his eyes.  We both look at each other
and we both know what each of us is thinking.  That could have been either
one of us in that motel room.  One of us could have been dead right now.
Instead it's Tim.  With the grim realization in our minds we wordlessly
move into an embrace.  We stay like that for a long time holding each other
wondering how much more fucked up our lives can get.

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Well that's it for this installment.  Let me know what you think:
austswim@aol.com