Peters Story

By John Gerald

Published on Mar 8, 2013

Gay

Thanks again for visiting, everyone. Your thoughts on the story are always welcome, especially with this new chapter.

Because he had committed to so many interviews for a winter break research project back in his hometown of Los Angeles, Jeremy had only returned to school the evening before classes were to start. It didn't give him a lot of time to readjust from 70 degrees and sunny to the biting cold of the Massachusetts winters, but seeing his friends again and looking forward to interesting classes more than made up for it.

There was one thing that was dragging him down, though. As much as he was looking forward to seeing everyone, he had detected a gradual distancing of himself and his girlfriend Kathy. It had started during the fall semester, but seemed to widen even further when they were apart the past few weeks.

It wasn't him. He could have talked and emailed her everyday while she was in France trying to brush-up on her foreign language skills. But the response time and enthusiasm was clearly not matched on the other side.

She was his first really serious relationship and his expectations and dreams for it were high. He thought it could go anywhere. While she seemed to enjoy the camaraderie, and certainly the sex if her breathless clawing at his bod meant anything, he wondered at times about whether they should be sharing anything more.

He thought that maybe it was his own fault when she didn't seem interested in what had happened to him on this or that day, those times that she seemed to drift a bit during conversations. Maybe he talked too much, he told himself, though an objective observer would have judges probably the opposite.

Perhaps his expectations were too high. Or he just had the wrong idea of what a relationship was about, he would tell himself. His folks were divorced before he could even remember so who was he to say, one who had never observed a loving and authentic relationship first hand, in his own home.

But there was one relationship right in front of him that he did see as a kind of model. Often, when he looked at Marty and Peter, he had the thought that it was supposed to be that way with Kathy. Or any two people when they were really a couple.' They seemed to listen to each other, didn't embarrass the other one in public even in a teasing way, seemed to always know what was going on with the other. They just seemed to be so aware of each other's space,' if he could describe it in some abstract way.

It wasn't as if they had some kind of pure platonic attraction that transcended the physical, something that was somehow less of the flesh than what he and Kathy had. After all, how many times had he noticed at the neck of one or the other covered with sucker bites. He was even a witness from the first time that the guys had met, so they undoubtedly had the physical thing right from the start.

But they had something else that was special, too. Or, he thought, something that that others didn't have. Strife. Battles. Conflict. He couldn't pretend to know how things went for them in private, but for the year he had known them as a couple he didn't see a hint of that tension in public. When he looked around at other couples, and even he and Kathy sometimes, there was often the slow simmering of some problem or issue that gave a distinct vibe to the situation.

So they were a model for him, but at the moment it gave him little comfort. Kathy had just asked that they get together for coffee after her last class on Wednesday. Not an unusual request in itself, but in the circumstances, there was a 'smell' to it that he didn't like.


'Why?'

He kept asking himself the same question over and over again. 'Why?' He treated her like he wanted to be treated himself. He was there when she needed him, when she was sick, bummed out over a test, or had trouble with her parents. But now she said that she 'needed some space' and wanted to 'see what it might be like with other guys.'

After that, he just started walking. He did a loop around the campus, which took almost an hour. Then he decided to walk the entire length through the center back and forth but was careful to avoid her dorm. He wanted to cry but he couldn't get anything to come out. He was just numb.

He had walked for almost two hours and was feeling the effects of the long trek in his legs, but at the same time was still too upset to do anything else. It was like his despair and anxiety was keeping him on a forced march. He had probably walked a couple miles. Sometimes in circles but always in continuous motion.

Finally he took his hands out of his pockets and paused for a moment. He started by looking around to get his bearings and simply to figure out where he was, but his other intention was to actually see the environment he was standing in and not just the pay attention to the turmoil inside his own head.

He hardly recognized the area. Like most of this old college town, it had rows of neat 19th century clapboard houses, many divided up into apartments for the few students who preferred them over dorm living. But it was way on the other side of campus from where he lived so he hardly knew it at all.

Vaguely, he remembered one of the few times that he had been in this neighborhood. It was perhaps two years ago, for the art history class study session at Marty's apartment before he even knew him. That visit now felt as long ago as the art they studied.

Suddenly, he realized that very house was right across the street. There were lights on upstairs and he could imagine it being warm and cozy, especially for how he felt now. He was tempted to visit. He thought that the guys might be good to talk to, and the place would sure be more hospitable than the frigid weather outside.

But then he thought, `Why drag them through my problems?' Besides, he was so tired that decided that he had better head back or he'd never make it home. After stuffing his leather-gloved hands back in his pockets he started back in the direction of the main campus when he suddenly heard a voice behind him.

"Jer?"

He turned around. He didn't have his backpack with him so for the moment felt almost naked. Plus, he felt weird being out there this late on a cold January night. There was no way to come up with a classwork-related excuse to give to anyone as to why he was so far from home.

He heard his name again. Somehow, he had just zoned out after the first question and didn't even answer.'

"Are you OK." he finally registered the voice. It was Peter.

"Oh...sorry...um, I just out for a walk." He tried to sound nonchalant, feeble as he knew the response was.

There was only a dim yellowish streetlight above them, but it seemed to be all Peter needed for recognition. "What's the matter, Jer? You don't look too good. And what are you doing all the way out here in the boondocks?"

He didn't even know what he said. All he could do was get out the word "Kathy, she, um ..."

"Is she OK? Peter asked, shifting a small plastic bag with some kitchen sundries into his other hand.

"Um...she's fine. She just, um wants...um...something else."

The next thing he knew, the bag was on the ground and Peter's arms were around him, At first he didn't react. Then slowly, he leaned his head onto Peter's shoulder and started silently crying.

After he actually realized what had just happened, Jeremy quickly pulled his head back. "Sorry, Peter. I didn't mean to...do that...I mean..." he was now very confused. He wanted to get back home, get in his own bed, and just leave reality behind for the moment. Not talk about it. But it was good to see Peter. And he had to admit, he realized now very tired he actually was.

"Umm...thanks, so much, it was good to run into you, but I should probably leave you all alone. I mean, "he said, stopping to sniffle and get his breath back. "I mean, thanks again, but I really should..."

"You need to come up with me, Jer. You're in no condition to go anywhere," Peter answered.

"I don't want to dump this on you guys, I should really go now."

"Sorry, but no way. We're your friends and you need somebody right now. And we're here for you," he said, gently but firmly placing his hand around Jeremy's shoulder and moving him in the direction of their house. "Come on up."


The next thing he knew, he was being supported by Marty. And where his crying on Peter's shoulder was the first small leak in the dyke, it had now burst.

Marty stoked his back as Jeremy sobbed on his shoulder. He didn't think of anything. He just cried.

It was just like it was with Peter not two minutes before. It didn't make the pain go away. But for a few moments, it again felt like there was a least a balm on it, something that lifted the load for just a moment, enough time for him to get a better grip.

"...uh, thanks," he said as he gently pushed himself away and stood on his own. "Sorry about that, I guess I just kind of lost it..."

"No worries, dude," Peter said as he stood behind them, moving his hand up to Jeremy's shoulder and starting a rhythmic squeezing. "This is really, tough, I know it is."

Somehow, he knew that Peter wasn't just saying that to be nice.

Although never expressed himself at the time, Jeremy later realized that it was desperate sadness he had seen on his face later in the fall semester of their sophomore year, when Peter seemed to become so withdrawn. It was right before he and Marty had gotten together. There was probably a lot more to the story than he actually knew, but he always suspect that it was about this kind of stuff.

"Um, thanks...Peter," he said as he reached back and squeezed his hand.

Looking up at Marty, he said, "Thanks to you, too, buddy. This helps...it helps."

"Like Pete said, 'No worries"

Jeremy stood with them for a few more moments, both guys right beside him. He hardly knew what to do next until he heard directions from Peter. And we was ready to lead.

"Hey, have a seat, Jer. You're home here, so take off your jacket, chill for a while. Kick off your shoes, too." Peter said, guiding him to the small couch in the apartment."

"Yeah, can I get you something to drink?" Marty asked, moving toward the kitchen. "We've got OJ, beer...um, you probably don't want milk, and let's see what else..." he said as he opened the door and peered inside, scanning the interior front to back and then doing the same to the shelves on the door.

"I think there's some sodas in there someplace, too, Mart. Maybe in the back," Peter called out.

"Oh yea, there they are," he answered. "Would a soda be OK?"

Before Jeremy even had time to answer, Marty realized that he was probably still freezing and a cold drink probably wasn't a good idea.

"Hey, you know what, we could make some hot chocolate, how would that be? Now that milk makes some sense to me," he added.

"Oh, thanks guys, but I shouldn't stay long. It's kind of late already and all."

"You probably haven't eaten either," Marty said as pulled out the milk and poured it into a pan for heating.

"Yeah, when did you eat last?" Peter asked as he took Jeremy's jacket from him and laid it over one of the dining room chairs in the small eating nook. "You can leave after you've had a drink and eaten some food. And not before then." Peter said, giving him a slight smile as he heard the pilot striking to light the flame on the burner.

"Yeah, so let's see what we have here to eat while that's heating up," Marty said as he returned to the refrigerator from the old gas stove. "Let's see... there's an extra Egg McMuffin from this morning and...oh, wait a minute. We had chile for dinner – that would be perfect!"

"I agree, that would be great for a night like tonight." Peter added. "But there's also some protein bars, too, up in the cupboard. And cereal and bagels, too. We could do any of those things in case you don't like chili," Peter added.

Jeremy could hardly belief his luck in coming here. On one hand he didn't feel like he could eat anything. On the other hand, he hadn't eaten even a bite since getting the news that morning. But, then again, being hungry didn't seem to matter anymore.

He went back and forth with Peter about food, grateful for the offers, but not really sure that he could even eat anything right now, as hungry as his now-growling stomach was telling him he was.

"Thanks guys, but maybe I should just chill for a bit, then go home and ..."

Before he even got the complete sentence out of his mouth, he saw a bubbling bowl of chili, courtesy of modern microwave technology, placed in front of him. A spoon stood practically up right, immobile in the stiff, thick chile that Peter liked to make, along with a toasted bagel and a steaming mug of hot chocolate.

"Sorry, I had to zap the chili rather than just heat it up in the oven. But we've got ice cream for dessert so that should make up for it," Marty said.

"Thanks. Like I said, I'm um... kind of not in the mood to eat, but, um.. on the other hand I am sort of hungry" He took a sip of the drink before tentatively dipping a spoon into the bowl.

"When's the last time that you ate?" Peter asked,

"I guess this morning, I had some cereal for breakfast. But nothing since then."

"Well, then dig in," Marty said.

"Are you guys going to have something?"

"No, we had dinner already. We were just waiting for you." Peter replied as he smiled and again put his arm on Jeremy's shoulder.

He tentatively held the spoon, then starting stirring the bowl. He could see there were red and green and orange things in there, along with big chunks of ground meat. He didn't register them as peppers or carrots or whatever, just `thing's and that it was food. He a first mouthful and then glanced up at the guys, looking in turns at each one of them.

"This tastes as good as anything could taste now. Who made it?" he said as he went for another spoonful.

"Pete did. I'm the baker, he's the cook," Marty replied.

For a moment, their interesting protocol for names was fascinating to him. When they were with relative strangers, Marty would call him Peter. But when they were amongst close friends, he would call him Pete. It made him feel sort of privileged that he was always around for 'Pete.'

Before he knew it, the bowl was half empty. First a spoonful of chili, then some bagel, then back to the chile. It was all devoured in about two minutes. He was so preoccupied with other things that he didn't realize how hungry he really was.

He scraped the last morsels onto the edge of the bowl, unconsciously wiping it with the last bit of the bagel before finishing that off, too.

After placing the now empty bowl back on the table, he took a deep breath and relaxed back in his chair. "Thanks so much guys. that really hit the spot!" he exclaimed.

"No problem, Jer, glad to," Marty replied. "Hey, would you like some more? We have plenty left in the fridge. We usually make it to last a couple days, so there's plenty left with your name on it."

"Thanks..ummm...but...I'm not sure. Well, maybe..." he only realized then how truly famished he was before he heard another ceramic bowl clang against the microwave turntable and the beeps and then the beeps from instruction panel.


After his second helping he decided he had enough and waived off yet another bowl from Marty. "That was really, really good, thanks so much. But I think I'm filled up now," he pleaded, "I don't think I could take another spoonful. But it was really good!"

As he leaned back in his chair to take another sip of the hot chocolate, he realized it was still piping hot, almost as much as when it was placed there a few moments ago. He must have inhaled the food, he thought to himself.

After Marty returned from clearing the table and putting the dishes in the sink Jeremy chatted more with them about what had happened. He didn't go into a blow-by-blow account of his last encounter with Kathy and neither of them pressed him about it. The just let him talk about whatever he wanted at whatever pace was comfortable.

He didn't remember a lot about the place from when he was there earlier. It was just for a study session, and there was nothing remarkable about the evening. He remembered it being well kept for a student apartment, but that was about it. Maybe it was because he was just tired. But given the current circumstances, he didn't see this merely as a place where two guys just ate and slept, it was where they made a home.

One clearly new element was the installation of a gallery of photographs above a makeshift study area that they had installed in a corner of the small living room. That really was unusual, he thought to himself. For college students, you might see one family picture or maybe a girlfriend or boyfriend and the rest were posters or pennants or other decorative hangings.

But this had no dramatic photographs of exotic vacation sites, sports figures or art shots meant for philosophical contemplation, but pictures of family and friends. A picture of his Dads, Marty's sister and Peter's cousin who both visited several time, Peter's three nieces and nephews. He even saw himself in one, his arm around Wei's shoulder along with a few of their other teammates.

They weren't fancy and except for some formal pictures of Peter's family they looked like they could have come out of camera phones. But they had the place of honor in the house and couldn't be missed or ignored.

As these images went throught his head, he continued to talk with them about the day and how he ended up there, not realizing the time or even how long they had been talking.

As it was one of those apartments that was so small you could see the small, lighted numbers in the kitchen even if you were in the dining room, he was shocked when he actually saw the time in the small, green digital numbers.

`11:55'

"Wow, guys, I'm sorry, it looks like it's gotten really late, it's almost midnight! I should really be going now," he said as he quickly glanced down at this watch to confirm the time.

"You can stay as long as you like, Jer. You can even stay here if you want to, if that would help," Peter said.

"Yeah, we've got extra blankets and a sleeping bag, and we could put the couch cushions on the floor so that you could stretch out," Marty added.

"It's pretty late, too," Peter said. "By the time you get home and crawl into bed and all it could be like 1 or so."

In spite of the pleading, Jeremy felt like he really wanted to be in his own bed and started to get up to retrieve his jacket. "I appreciate so much what you all have done for me tonight," he responded, "but I think the long walk will do me some good. And just finding my way here, you know, there must have been some power in the universe watching over me. So thanks so much!" he said as he reached over and squeezed Peter's hand.

"No problem, Jer, We're here when you need us."

It took him a few minutes to actually get out the door. After getting bear hugs from each of the guys, Marty insisted on inspecting him up and down to make sure he was dressed warmly enough. Only after he buttoned the difficult top clasp on his puffy ski jacket was Jeremy allowed out the door to slowly make his way down the snow-dusted stairs for the long walk home.

Even though he knew that he wanted to get home quickly, he went down the stairs slowly, almost savoring each step. Being with Peter and Marty was the only good thing that had happened to him that day and his feel almost didn't want to leave. So he took his time.

But just as he hit the bottom landing and was about to head out to the sidewalk and pick up the pace for the long walk home, he heard a voice from above.

"Hey Jer! wait up second!"

Turning around and looking back up the stairs, he saw Marty buttoning up his own jacket as he bounded down the stairs after him, some kind of big bundle in his hand.

"What are you doing? Jeremy asked, looking at him as he made it to the bottom and pulled a cap from his jacket onto his head.

"We don't think that it's right for you to be alone tonight, so I'm going home with you. I've got a sleeping bag, so I can just crash on the floor."

"I'll be OK, don't worry," Jeremy replied, trying to discourage him but almost wanting to be contradicted at the same time.

"Well, both Pete and I disagree. We don't think that you shouldn't be alone, at least for tonight."

Jeremy just looked back at him. He felt a tightening in his throat and all he could get out of it was a slightly croaked, 'thanks.'

Marty put his hand on his shoulder and turned him in the direction of campus. "Glad to. But let's get going so that you can get some sleep before class tomorrow, OK?"

He was now at a point to just let himself be pushed along by events. He had gotten rejuvenated by being with the guys, but had actually dreaded the lonely walk back alone after being in such supportive company.

As they were approaching his apartment, Jeremy could hear Marty's phone vibrate against some coins in his pocket.

Slowing down to allow Marty to retrieve it through all the layers of clothing, he asked, "is everything OK?"

"Yeah it's fine Jer. "It's Pete. He says that Wei is going to come over and bring you dinner tomorrow night. He's bringing some pizza. There is a different person who will bring you dinner every day this week up to Friday. Then we're all going out for something together that night, we'll figure out exactly what it is when we get there. But all the guys will be there.

"So I think we have you covered until the weekend," Marty said as he turned to Jeremy. But there was no answer.

Marty looked back at him and him and asked, "Are you OK?"

He just remembered wiping his eyes, and worrying for moment whether they might freeze shut.. "Um yea, I"m OK. Just...give it a sec..."

"Sure," Marty said, his hand again reaching over to Jeremy's shoulder. "Watch out, it's close to zero. They might freeze."

"Yeah, I just thought of that, too. Kind of silly, I know but...

He again felt Marty's hand on his shoulder. "Well, let's get you home as soon as possible just in case," he said as he gently pulled him on.

"Think you can make it?"

"Yup! Let's go."

Next: Chapter 25


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