We piled into Killian’s black Volkswagen Bug and drove to the downtown area. The Plaza, as it is known, is a brick courtyard in the middle of the city with tall Victorian era brick buildings lining it and fountains, sculptures, and flowerbeds scattered about the middle. The buildings mostly house up-scale boutiques, lawyer’s offices, and antique stores. It didn’t take long to find Avant Guard once we were there. It stood out a bit since it was the only place with a life-sized statue a man and a woman caught in the act of making love in the window. The people depicted in this particular sculpture actually had wings, and something that looked like horns coming out of their heads. Not your typical couple. It looked like it was made of bronze and must have weighed a ton. We all stood in a kind of silent awe for several minutes before anyone spoke.

"Well…isn’t that…amazingly accurate?" Aidan said.

"I wouldn’t know. I’m still a virgin," Asher said with a giggle.

"You two might have to wait outside," I said, only half joking.

"Why?" Killian asked.

"It might over 21 only!"

"That eliminates you guys too," Killian pointed out reasonably.

We finally managed to tear ourselves away from the coupling couple and entered the gallery, which was indeed open.

There were no more pornographic statues in view, but everything I did see looked terribly expensive and elegant. I felt very out of place in my cargo-pocket shorts and surf t-shirt. I was having some trouble picturing Nikki here as well.

I was just about to suggest we leave when a stuffy looking man in an Armani suit suddenly appeared out of thin air. "Hello, this is Avant Guard. Can I help you with something?" His tone of voice clearly said that he seriously doubted that this would be the case.

Before I could say no, Aidan stepped forward and offered his hand. Mr. Armani looked at it disdainfully for a moment before reluctantly shaking it. He casually wiped it on his pant leg as if it had possibly become contaminated by Aidan’s touch.

"I’m Aidan Scott," Aidan said in a cool, cultured voice that was so unlike his usual voice that I almost did a double take. "This is my client, Will Keegan, perhaps you’ve heard of him." He managed to make it sound like he was a fool if he hadn’t.

The suit began to look a bit flustered. Meanwhile I turned a lovely shade of crimson.

"He’s being called the next big thing. We met earlier today with Ms. Avanti," Aidan swept on, "and she expressed an interest in perhaps representing Mr. Keegan in this area. We thought we’d stop by unannounced and have a look around. You know we can’t be represented by just anyone."

"Of course," Mr. Armani gushed, "I think you’ll be very pleased with Avant Guard. We may be a small gallery but we’ve had some wonderful success on the international market. As you can see, we cater to a very specific clientele."

"Yes, so I see," Aidan said, allowing just a hint of disapproval to enter his voice. "I just hope the scope isn’t too narrow."

"I’m afraid I don’t understand."

"I’m afraid you don’t." Aidan agreed. "We’ll look around now. Thank you." It was clearly a dismissal but the man seemed hesitant to leave us alone in the gallery.

"Please let me know if I can help you with anything…" he tried.

"I doubt that very seriously, but thank you ever so much once again."

The man now looked completely unnerved and began to back away with a slight bow that would have been laughable if I wasn’t so nervous myself.

"That was freaking awesome!" Killian whispered as soon as he was out of sight.

"Shhh!" I hissed, then reeled to face Aidan, "What was that?" I growled as quietly as possible and still let him know exactly how I felt about his little performance.

"What was what?" he asked innocently.

"The next big thing?"

"What? I called you that, didn’t I?"

"Your client?"

"Will, calm down. You’re gonna pop a vein."

"What if Nikki finds out about this?"

"Relax. I know his type. He won’t dare breathe a word of this to Nikki and make himself look bad. He’ll wait and see if we say anything; see what take we give her, then he’ll try to spin it to make himself look better. Trust me. I’m telling you I grew up in places like this."

I threw my hands up in defeat and started to look around. The work displayed was an eclectic mix of modern, abstract, and traditional art; complete with everything from sculptures to paintings to collages. They really seemed to have something for everyone, although I couldn’t help but wonder if the athletic couple in the window might not put off the more conservative folks. We did find one more statue on a platform in the back of the gallery. Once again, it was life-sized and erotic, but this one was of two men. One was standing facing the viewer and the other stood behind him with his arms around him in an intimate and touching embrace as he kissed his neck.

Once again, we were all struck silent at first. Asher was the first to break the mood, "My God, he’s hung like a horse," he whispered loudly.

We all cracked up. I thought for sure Mr. Armani would come running, but we actually made it out of the gallery without running into His Stuffiness again.

"Well, what did you think?" Aidan asked as we walked back to the car.

"I think I wanna try that!" Asher said with a leer directed at Killian.

"Not about that you perv" Aidan laughed, "about the gallery."

"I thought it was really cool but kinda stuffy," Killian volunteered.

"I think that sums it up pretty well," I agreed, "especially that stuffed suit."

"Stuffed Armani suit," Aidan corrected me, "and I agree too."

We all turned to look at Asher.

"I’m horny!" he announced happily.

When we got back to the apartment, Asher and Killian came in only long enough to grab their bags before they had to leave to get home.

"So how are you doing? I’ve been thinking a lot about what we talked about last night." Aidan asked as soon as they were gone.

"You and me both," I said with a sigh. "I’m ok I guess."

"Have you come to any conclusions?"

"No, and I don’t think I will. Not right now anyway. I’m just going to let it slide for now. There’s no reason I have to make up my mind right this second."

"Ignoring it isn’t going to make it go away."

"Thank you, Dr. Ruth."

"No, really. I mean it’s your decision, but for your own sake I don’t think you should put it off too long."

"Or what? I’ll self-destruct?"

Aidan looked thoughtful, "Maybe. It wouldn’t be the first time it’s happened."

Before I could pursue that intriguing line of thought further, a knock came at the door. I was closer so I answered it. It was Joey.

"Hey, Will," he said, "I haven’t been able to get up with you all week. What’s up?"

"I, uh…you know, with moving and work and stuff…"

"Can I come in?"

"Oh, yeah, sure." I stepped back to allow him in, shutting the door behind him.

"Hey Aidan!" he said.

"Hiya Joey. Hey, I’ll be in my room on the computer if anyone needs me," he said as he left the room.

"I came by earlier but no one answered the door," Joey said somewhat accusingly.

"We weren’t here," I said.

"Yeah, I figured that. Will, are you avoiding me?"

"Why would you think that?" I said evasively.

"You don’t answer my calls, you don’t call me back, and now you’re acting like you can’t wait to get rid of me."

"I told you I’ve been busy."

"Too busy to call your best friend?"

"Yeah well, my best friend was too busy to tell me about his new girlfriend so it’s a little like the pot calling the kettle black."

"Are you still mad about that? I said I was sorry. I made a mistake. Will, I really am sorry. I missed you this week."

"You did?"

"Yes. You’re my best friend. Who else am I going to talk to about everything?"

"What about Shelley?"

"We’ve been going out three weeks; I’ve known you for 18 years."

I sighed, "I missed you too."

"I thought you were busy."

I grinned and he playfully punched me in the arm. We moved over to the furniture and sat down to continue talking. He ended up staying until about 11 that night. After a while, Aidan came out and joined us watching a movie on TV and talking. I went to bed that night thinking that maybe things didn’t have to change so much after all. Little did I know.

* * *

When I got home from work the next day, I found a note slipped under the door. It was from Nikki and simply said, "Dinner at 6." I glanced at my watch; it was 5:30 now. I had stopped by my old house on the way home and picked up the rest of my paintings so I kicked back on the couch to wait for Aidan.

I didn’t have to wait long. "Lucy, I’m home," he called as he burst through the door, sounding eerily like Ricky Ricardo.

"Hey, dinner is at 6."

"Cool, then I have time for a shower. Guess who I just met?"

"Uh…Fred & Ethel?"

He chuckled, "No, but you’re close. Guess again."

"I give up."

"You give up too easily. I met another one of our neighbors, name of Mr. Morris. He’s in the first door to the left of the elevator. He’s in the hall with a trash bag when I get off the elevator and he says, and I quote, ‘I hope you two boys aren’t fucking faggots. This is a respectable building.’"

"Oh my God! What did you say?"

"I said, ‘Hello, nice to meet you too. My name is Aidan Scott." And he goes, ‘Morris, Jim Morris. You can call me Mr. Morris.’ So I said, ‘Alright, Mr. Morris, it was nice meeting you. Have a nice day, and oh, by the way; we prefer fucking queers.’"

I felt my mouth drop open as Aidan collapsed into a chair, quite pleased with himself.

"You didn’t really say that did you," I asked when I finally found my voice.

"Yes! You should have seen his face!"

"I can’t believe you actually said that."

"Oh, loosen up, Will. It felt great. You should try it sometime."

"I don’t think I will."

"Suit yourself. You don’t know what you’re missing. I’m gonna go take that shower now."

He was back out shortly, freshly showered and wearing a tropical print shirt and khakis.

"That is one ugly shirt," I couldn’t help but say.

Aidan grinned, "You’re just jealous cuz you don’t got cool clothes like me. Is my client ready for his first business dinner?"

"As ready as I’ll ever be."

"Good, let’s go."

We walked across the hall and tapped on Nikki’s door. She answered it almost immediately wearing a brightly colored sarong with a matching scarf wrapped around her head like a turban. She looked like a white Eryka Badu.

"Aidan, I love your shirt!" she said, "Come on in."

The first thing we saw as we stepped in was the life-sized statue of a mermaid and merman wrapped around each other with their heads thrown back in apparent ecstasy. It was sitting in the middle of what should have been the living room but Nikki apparently used as her studio. I guess we now knew who the sex-crazed artist was.

Nikki followed our gaze, "Like it? I just finished it last night. I haven’t gotten it out of here yet. You’ll have to excuse the mess."

"It’s very life-like." Aidan said carefully.

"I use live models for the initial sittings. I do a small clay model and some sketches that I then use to create the statues."

"Where do you find fresh mer-people this time of year?" Aidan asked.

Nikki laughed, "I have my sources. This piece is most likely already sold. I just have to get it to the gallery so they can see it."

"How do you get it out of here?" I asked.

"The elevator."

"Isn’t it too heavy?"

"It’s nowhere near as heavy as it looks. It’s hollow for one thing. More importantly though, it isn’t really bronze. It’s recycled aluminum that I paint with a metallic paint and then age and oxidize it."

"Cool."

"While we’re talking shop are they your paintings?"

"Yeah," I held out the stack.

She took them and began to look through them carefully. She went through the stack of about 15 painting twice, then pulled out four, stood them on the couch and stepped back. After a few more minutes of scrutinizing, she put one back in the pile and handed the rejected pieces back to me.

"These," she said. She had chosen three of my most unusual pieces, a study of a door on an abandoned house, a window of another abandoned house and an architectural detail of an old country church.

"Are you sure?" I asked. I was somewhat dubious.

"Yes, I’m sure."

"We went to the gallery yesterday," I told her, "Are you sure these will…fit in?"

"Oh God, you must have met Derrick."

"Would that be the guy with the stick up his butt and wearing an Armani suit?" Aidan asked.

"That would be him," Nikki sighed, "Derrick is my brother and part owner of Avant Guard. We have somewhat differing ideas about how the place should be run. And the very reason I like these pieces is because they aren’t like the other things we have. You don’t want to blend in, Will, you want to stand out."

Considering how I’d spent most of my life trying desperately to blend in and not stand out, I was still somewhat unconvinced. She must have been able to tell by my expression.

"Have you ever seen one of your paintings framed and matted?"

"No."

"Do you mind if I have these done?’

"No."

"Good, then come by the gallery…um…Saturday and see what you think then."

"Ok," I agreed.

"Dinner’s ready," a voice called from the kitchen.

Aidan and I turned confused looks towards the strange voice and then to Nikki.

"That’s my boyfriend, Sam. He cooks. I hope you like vegetable lasagna."

"I guess we’re about to find out," Aidan quipped.

It turned out to be delicious and Sam was just as interesting as Nikki was. He had long curly brown hair, which he had pulled back into a ponytail, intense blue eyes, a goatee, and two silver hoop earrings in each ear. He looked a lot younger than Nikki, not much older than Aidan and I in fact, but after my miscalculation with Nikki’s age, I wasn’t making any assumptions. Turned out I was right though, he was only two years older than Aidan, and he was a senior at Pemberton. He and Nikki had met when he answered her ad in the paper for a live model. I couldn’t help but wonder if he was the model who was "hung like a horse" as Asher had so elegantly put it. I kept taking what I hoped were surreptitious glances at his crotch whenever he stood up but it was impossible to tell with his baggy jeans.

We also learned that Nikki specialized in erotic art and was beginning to gain an international name for herself. Her father, Giovanni Avanti, had been a world-renowned art expert and critic. He had retired to the Eastern Shore, where his wife was originally from, and opened the gallery in his later years. It had been building to a very successful international business when he died of a heart attack. Nikki and her brother, Derrick, had inherited the business jointly. She struck me as a slightly spoiled young woman, but very likeable nonetheless.

The rest of the evening passed by enjoyably and we left around nine with two new friends.

The week went by uneventfully; there were no more run-ins with our neighbor, Mr. Morris, and we met our other neighbors without incident. Joey, Shelley, Laura, and Gabe came over one night and watched rented movies and that too went over well. I was careful to pay more attention than usual about my feelings and reactions to Joey and it gave me food for thought. Aidan and I continued to grow closer and I was fast coming to think of him as one of my best friends. I wondered what effect if any it would have on my friendship with Joey, which despite the movie night, continued to grow ever more distant.

Saturday finally arrived. I dressed in a button-down shirt and nice jeans and drove downtown once again, this time without anyone else.

Today, loud Celtic music flowed out of the open door of Avant Guard and drifted down the brick plaza. When I walked in I spotted Nikki right away, she was hard to miss. Her hair was a purplish-red color and she was wearing a matching t-shirt dress that was cinched at the waist with a length of chain with a padlock on one hip. Clunky black grandma shoes and dangly silver earrings completed the outfit. She was busy hanging a painting as I approached and didn’t notice me. I looked over her shoulder and gasped when I saw what she was hanging. It was one of mine.

She spun around at my gasp, knocking the painting crooked on its hanger. "Oh, Will! You startled me. I didn’t hear you come in. What do you think? Looks different huh?"

Did it ever! I hardly recognized it. I couldn’t believe the difference a mat and frame could make. "Wow!" was all I could manage.

"You know you done good when you impress yourself," she said with a chuckle.

"It’s not that…" I said quickly but she cut me off.

"Of course it is. Every artist feels the same way the first time they see their work displayed properly. There’s a bit of vanity in it, sure, but that’s only natural. Call it pride of ownership or something like that."

"It just looks so different. Did you do anything to it?’

"I would never tamper with someone else’s work. It’s all yours, kiddo. All I did was stick a mat and frame on it. There’s your other two." She said pointing them out.

Once again, I found myself in awe at the way they had turned out. Nikki seemed to be enjoying every second of my reaction.

"Nikki!" A male voice bellowed, "Why are there mermaids having sex in my office? Oh, excuse me, Mr. Keegan wasn’t it?" It was Derrick.

"They’re not mermaids, its one mermaid and one merman. And they’re in your office because a potential buyer is on their way here and your office is bigger than mine. It’s what you get for claiming the bigger office. I understand you two have met."

Derrick glared first at Nikki then at me as if this was somehow my fault. "Yes, Mr. Keegan came in last week with his agent. I’m assuming from your presence here today that we are in fact representing you in this region?"

"Oh for God’s sake, Derrick!" Nikki said in an exasperated tone, "Get that damn stick out of your ass. Will is my neighbor and a friend and yes, we are representing his work."

Derrick looked pissed for a moment, then spun on the heel of his expensive Italian leather shoe and stormed off in the direction he had come from.

"Sorry about that," Nikki said with a little sigh. "We should never be working together but that was the terms of Father’s will. We have to run it together for 5 years at which time one of us can buy the other out if we are so inclined. I think he thought it would force us to get along. So far it hasn’t worked. We have two more years left, assuming we both survive."

I laughed.

"Come on back to my office. I’ll have you fill out the paperwork, there isn’t much, and then I need to get you to write on the back of each painting."

"Write what?"

"The title of the piece and any personal comments about it. Then you write Original Watercolor by Will Keegan."

I nodded and followed her behind a dividing wall and into her office. It turned out to be just as cluttered as I would have imagined. She shifted a stack of catalogs onto the floor to clear a space for me to sit and handed me a pen and some forms. While I was filling them out, it was mostly personal information for something called an artist’s bio, Nikki asked, "Can I ask you a personal question? Feel free to tell me to mind my own business."

I looked up nervously. I didn’t like the way this was sounding, but I said, "Uh…yeah, sure. I guess."

"Are you and Aidan a couple?"

I blushed, "No!" It came out a little more emphatically than I intended.

"I didn’t mean any offense. As you can see from my art, it wouldn’t bother me. I was just curious. The main reason I asked was that I’m always looking for subjects and I thought you two would be great."

The very thought of my posing nude with Aidan for Nikki caused my blush to deepen.

Nikki laughed, "You know, not all my art is erotic." She handed me a binder with glossy full-sheet photos of her past work. More than half were erotic, often mythical beings in the throes of passion; but the rest were simply beautiful expressions of love and affection, suggestive but not explicitly sexual.

"Think about it and let me know if you change your mind."

I still didn’t think there was much chance of that happening but I nodded anyway. "Is Derrick an artist too?" I asked to change the subject.

"He thinks so," she said with a most unladylike snort, "His stuff is that modern expressionist crap in the gallery. I wouldn’t have it here if it weren’t for him. Of course he says the same thing about my ‘pornography.’" She shrugged.

I finished the paperwork, which she took and filed in a folder with my name on it, and we returned to the gallery floor. I wrote the requested information on the back of each painting with a felt tipped marker and after admiring my paintings once more, we shook hands and I left.

It all seemed a little much to believe. In just two weeks, my entire life had changed; I had a whole new set of friends, my paintings were hanging in a gallery, I had moved out into my own apartment and I had found out that I might be gay. What next? I wondered. If someone had answered my question at that moment, I would have never believed them.

It was Sunday night and Aidan and I were in the middle of a Daytona USA tournament when the phone rang. It was Joey asking if he could come over. He sounded serious so I quickly agreed. He was at the door in 20 minutes.

"Can we talk somewhere private?" he asked right away, with a meaningful glance in Aidan’s direction.

Thinking about my last serious conversation, I led Joey out onto the fire escape. Once we were settled Joey didn’t waste any time.

"I just thought you should know that there are rumors going around campus that Aidan is gay and he’s not done anything to deny them."

I sat for a moment trying to decide what to say. I wondered why Aidan hadn’t mentioned it. I decided to be honest with Joey.

"He’s probably not denying it because it’s true," I said finally.

Joey looked stunned, "Oh man, Will, I’m really sorry about getting you into this…wait a minute, you knew this?"

"Yeah."

"For how long?"

"Since the night I moved in."

"And you didn’t say anything?"

"It wasn’t something I just go around telling everyone. It’s Aidan’s life. He only told me because we were going to be living together. He said he wasn’t ready to tell other people and I respected that."

Joey looked out over the river. After a few minutes of heavy silence, I took a deep breath.

"Hey, Joey? As long as we’re getting things out in the open I have something I need to tell you."

Joey looked over nervously at me, almost as if he knew what was coming and didn’t want to hear it. For a second I thought he was going to get up and leave, but with an almost visible effort, he stayed seated.

"A few weeks ago, when I broke up with Beth, she said something that really upset me."

"I remember, you wouldn’t tell me about it in the car. I asked, but you said you didn’t want to talk about it."

"Right. Part of what she said involved Laura, so I asked her about it."

"That was when you were down by the river."

"Yeah. I…well…it upset Laura but she was honest with me and she backed up what Beth had said, then she went on to ask me something that has been bugging me ever since and I finally realized what she was trying to tell me."

Joey looked away again and I wondered if Laura had talked to him or if he just suspected. Or maybe I was just being overly sensitive and reading things into it that weren’t there. "I thought she looked like she was crying," he said, "but Laura never cries so I just thought it was reflections off the water."

"It wasn’t the water, she was crying. Joey, Laura asked me if I was in love with you."

"WHAT? I can’t believe Laura would ask something like that! Don’t worry about it, Will. I’ll straighten things out."

"Joey…"

"I mean that’s the craziest thing I’ve ever heard…"

"Joey…"

"She must have lost her fucking mind!"

"JOEY! Listen to me. She’s not crazy; I am in love with you."

He froze and stared at me wild eyed.

"Joey?"

He just stared.

"Joey, say something."

"You’re a fag?"

This was not going well. "It’s not like that. I don’t even know if I’m gay or not…"

"You don’t know?"

"No, I mean maybe I’m just bi…"

"Just bi?"

"Or maybe it’s nothing. I mean, I know I’m in love with you but that doesn’t mean anything, right? We’re still buds. Hey, it took me two weeks just to admit that. It’s not like I’m going to hit on you or something…"

"Hit on me?" He stood up and moved to the railing. I stood up too and moved next to him. He pulled back sharply.

"Joey? I…"

"Look, Will, I don’t know what this is about. I mean we’ve been best friends forever but I don’t know…this is…I just…if you like guys then you’re not the same guy I’ve known for all these years."

"Joey, I’m the same guy I always was. Nothing’s changed."

"Everything’s changed. Introducing you to Aidan was a huge mistake."

"This doesn’t have anything to do with Aidan. It started a long time before he came on the scene. Laura’s known forever."

"Well I didn’t know." He ran his hands through his hair. "Look, Will, I don’t think I can handle this. I don’t know what you want…"

"I don’t want anything." I reached out towards his arm but Joey jumped back as if my hand would burn him if it made contact with his skin.

"Don’t touch me!" He shook his head as if to clear it. "Look, there’s no way I can be friends with a fag. I’m sorry…but I just can’t. So you get yourself straightened out and then let me know, until then, don’t call me."

"You can’t be serious…"

"I am serious, I’m not gonna be associated with a fag, I have my reputation…"

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. My head was spinning and a dull roar had begun in my ears so that I almost missed what he said next.

"I mean it, Will, stay away from me. Don’t call me. Just get help." He turned to crawl back through the window and without thinking, I grabbed his arm. He shook me off violently and backed up against the rail. "Don’t touch me!"

"Joey…I’m the same…"

"No, nothing is the same."

"Joey…"

He spun around, kicked the ladder down to the next floor with a clang, and started climbing down.

"Joey!" I screamed after him. He didn’t even look up. He jumped to the ground and started walking away, never once looking back. "Joey…please!" I choked.

"Will?" Aidan called from the window behind me, "What happened? Are you ok?"

"No, I’m not ok!" I managed before collapsing into a sobbing heap on the metal grill of the fire escape.

Aidan was through the window in a flash and kneeling down next to me. He wrapped his arms around me and began to slowly rock back and forth while I sobbed on his shoulder. I somehow managed to tell him what had happened, which only started me crying all the harder. He never said anything, just held me while I cried. Eventually, when I had cried myself out, my seemingly endless flow of tears exhausted along with the rest of me, Aidan pulled me to my feet and helped me back through the window. He led me to the bed and tucked me in, pulling the blankets up to my chin, then sat next to me until I had calmed down. Then, with a light kiss on my forehead, he turned out the light and left the room.

I didn’t go to work the next day; I had Aidan call in sick for me before he went to school. I spent the whole day sinking deeper and deeper into depression. I knew what was happening but just didn’t care anymore. It seemed so hopeless.

By the time Aidan got home from school, my eyes were almost swollen shut from crying on and off all day. He didn’t say anything, just made me a bowl of chicken soup, comfort food he said, and sat next to me on the couch.

When there was no change by Wednesday, he began to get concerned. By Friday, he’d called in the big guns. When I saw Laura sweeping in on me I thought I would really get it now, but to her credit she didn’t say I told you so, she didn’t even hint it. She simply wrapped me in a big hug and said it was ok, she understood, but it was time to get back to living.

"Joey will come around. You know he will. It was just a shock; you know how clueless he is. Just give him some time."

I thought for a minute, then nodded, stood up and walked down the hall to take a shower.

"How come he didn’t listen when I said that?" I heard Aidan wail.

"Sometimes it just takes a woman to do the job right," she said smugly.

The rest of the weekend went by slowly. I wouldn’t say I was back to normal but at least I was functioning again. Laura checked in often to see how I was doing. I skipped church yet again; it had been weeks since I’d been but I just didn’t feel like going. Maybe it was guilt at thinking I might be gay, but whatever it was it wasn’t going over well with Dad. When I went back to work Monday morning, he was waiting in my office. My stomach sank as soon as I saw him.

"Son," he said, "I need to ask you something."

I felt my knees buckle so I quickly sat down. "Ok," I managed to squeak.

"I received a letter yesterday afternoon, an anonymous letter," he said and immediately the room began to spin. I gripped the edge of the desk and tried to keep my breathing regular. "It said that you are involved with a homosexual. Is that true?"

I fought the urge to stick my head between my knees. It seemed like it would be bad form. He laid a letter on the desk in front of me and I scanned it without touching it.

"Dear Rev. Keegan," it began, "I think you should know that your son is gay and he’s in love with another man. A friend."

Some friend. Should I deny it? An anonymous letter wasn’t exactly proof and I wasn’t even sure myself if I was gay or not. But I was in love with Joey, that much I knew, and I was so sick and tired of lying. Maybe it would be better to just get it out in the open and just let whatever happened happen. I managed to nod.

Dad sighed, "I had hoped it wasn’t true, I didn’t want to believe it even though I’ve suspected it myself a number of times."

My eyes widened. He’d thought I was gay too? It seemed like everyone had known but me. Why hadn’t anyone ever said anything to me?

"Son, if this is true then we have a decision to make." I tried to focus on what he was saying but it suddenly seemed like he was far away and I was listening through a tunnel, watching from a distance. My body was still there, clutching for dear life to the edge of the desk, but the rest of me had withdrawn to a safer place. "If you continue to pursue this lifestyle," he continued, "then you will have to be removed from your position here at the church. We just cannot accept that lifestyle."

From my distant vantage point, I wondered what lifestyle he kept referring to. As far as I knew my lifestyle wasn’t any different then it had always been. And Aidan seemed to have a pretty decent lifestyle from all I had seen. I decided not to ask though, that would require going back.

Dad waited for a moment the stood up, "Will, you are my son and I love you. I will always love you, no matter what. But as the pastor of this church, I cannot accept homosexuality. If that is what you chose I will be very disappointed and as I said, I will be forced to take action." With that, he turned and walked away, his shoulders bent over as if he were carrying a great weight. I wanted to scream after him that it wasn’t a choice. No one had bothered to ask me if I wanted to fall in love with Joey. No one had asked me if I wanted to be gay!

My mind froze.

I’d just said I was gay. Not out loud granted, but in my head. That still counted for something, right? Was I? If I thought I was gay then I must be. I mean, I should know, right? The room was spinning again. This time I didn’t resist the urge to stick my head between my knees and take deep breaths. Once I had regained some modicum of control, my course of action suddenly seemed crystal clear. I switched on my computer and quickly typed up a letter of resignation. I left it on my desk, picked up the anonymous letter Dad had left, and left the church without another word.

I was sitting in the recliner at home, staring at the TV when Aidan got home.

"Hey, Will," he called as he came in, "How come the TV’s not on?"

I turned my head slowly to face him. "I quit my job today."

"What? Why?"

"I’m gay."

"You’re…but…I mean…" he took a breath and collapsed onto the couch, "Ok. What does that have to do with quitting your job?"

"Someone wrote a letter to my Dad and told him I was gay."

"What? Who? What did your dad do?"

"I don’t know who wrote it. It wasn’t signed. Dad asked me if it was true."

"And you told him…"

"I didn’t tell him anything. I couldn’t even talk. But he knows."

Aidan stood up and began to pace in an agitated manner. "I’m moving out. I can’t let this happen. I won’t ruin your life too."

"You’re not going anywhere. This isn’t your fault. Sit down, you’re making me dizzy."

He sat down heavily. "I mean this wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t moved in with me."

"Oh please, I was in love with Joey long before I met you. It was just a matter of time. By the way, you don’t seem surprised that I’m gay."

"I’m not. Well, I mean…I figured. I thought it would take you longer to deal with it though, you know, with all your religious stuff to work through."

"I don’t know if I have dealt with it yet."

"What are you going to do?"

"I don’t know."

The phone rang, saving me from trying to answer a question for which I didn’t have an answer. Aidan picked it up quickly.

"It’s for you," he said with an unreadable expression as he handed me the phone.

"Yes?" I said woodenly into the handset.

"Will?" It was my mom. She sounded like she’d been crying.

"Yes."

"Will, your father said you quit today."

"Yes."

"Will, why?’

"It was either that or get fired."

"He said it was because you think you’re gay."

"Yes."

"Oh Will! You can’t be!" she cried.

"Mom, I’m sorry, there’s nothing I can do about it."

"There’s counseling, I heard about it on the radio…"

"I don’t think so, Mom."

A strangled sob filled my ear, "You know we can’t accept this, we can’t condone it."

"I know," I said quietly. I felt a tear escape the corner of my eye and slide down my cheek.

"I’ll always love you, Willie."

"I know, Mom."

"You’re father says you’re not welcome back here unless you get counseling," she burst into sobs, "He says to read Hosea 8:7," she managed to choke out before I heard the click of the phone as she hung up. The line went dead, but I held the phone numbly in my hand until the operator came on and informed that if I wanted to make a call I needed to hang up and try again.

I stood up and handed the phone back to Aidan who was watching me with a worried expression. I walked down the hall to my room and picked up my worn Bible. I turned to Hosea and found the indicated verse. "For they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind."

* * *

The following days saw me plunge back into depression, this time even deeper than the first time. Nothing Aidan said could lift me out the dark miasma of despair that I sunk deeper into with every passing day. Even Laura’s commands fell on deaf ears.

For the first time in my life, I found myself thinking about suicide, but worse, the idea wasn’t at all as repugnant as I’d always imagined it would be. It held a certain alluring charm, a promise of escape, of no more pain and confusion. I didn’t dare mention it to anyone, but as each day passed, I grew more and more obsessed with the idea of killing myself. I’d never asked to be gay and I damn well didn’t want to be gay. My family hated me, my best friend hated me, I didn’t have a job – what did I have to live for? It seemed like the perfect solution.

I even drew pictures of the various methods I was considering. One showed me seemingly asleep on the bed…until you noticed the empty pill bottles lying next to me. Another showed me hanging from a noose from the fire escape. My personal favorite though was of me in a pool of blood with my wrists laid open.

Friday morning dawned gray and miserable. I decided it was a perfect day to bring one of those sketches to life. Who would even miss me? I pulled the sketched out from under my bed where I’d been hiding them and tried to decide which I liked the most. I immediately discarded the hanging one for purely practical reasons. I didn’t know how to tie a noose. Besides, I’d heard it was a horrible way to die. After checking the medicine cabinet, I had to forget the OD method too. The strongest thing we had was two cough drops and some mouthwash. I somehow doubted they could pull it off. On the other hand, I would have nice breath when they found me. Ah, gallows humor…gotta love it.

That left me with slashing my wrists. I was morbidly pleased since a bloody death appealed to that dark romantic side of me. I waited until Aidan was gone before slipping out of bed and into the kitchen. I sorted through our knives, disappointed to realize we didn’t have many to choose from and what we did have wouldn’t cut through hot butter. I needed a sharp knife so it would quick, before I lost my nerve. I finally chose one that was marginally sharper than the rest. Now, where to do the deed? I went through several ideas before deciding the kitchen was as good a place as any; definitely the easiest place to clean up.

The thought of a note went through my head but considering the circumstances, I didn’t think one was necessary. Those involved would know why and no one else needed to know. Besides who would address it to? To whom it may concern? Then I thought about writing up a will, but I didn’t have anything worth leaving to anyone and I wasn’t at all sure I was of sound mind and body at the moment and I was pretty sure that was a requirement.

Finally, I ran out of stall tactics. It was now or never. I took a deep breath, placed the edge of the blade against my wrist, and froze. I couldn’t seem to make myself do it. Just then, I heard a fumbling at the door and before my befuddled mind could react, Aidan walked in.

"Hey," he said as appeared in the kitchen door, "It’s good to see you up. I forgot my…" he stopped suddenly when he saw the knife in my hand. "Oh my God, Will…what are you doing?"

I gripped the knife harder and pressed so hard against my skin that a thin cut sliced through and a small trickle of blood ran down my wrist. I gasped from the pain and Aidan’s eyes bulged. "Don’t!" he shouted.

"Why?" I asked in a barely audible voice, "Why shouldn’t I kill myself? What do I have to live for?"

"Will, you have your whole life ahead of you. You’re only 18. I know things are hard right now, but this isn’t the answer." As he spoke, he inched slowly closer to me.

"Then what is the answer?"

"I don’t know, Will, but I promise this isn’t it. I’ll help you find it though; I know someone who can help. He’s my professor, a really nice guy. I want you to talk to him."

"A shrink?"

"He’s a psychiatrist; a good one. I think he can help."

"You think I need to be fixed too."

"No, I just think…"

"No!"

"Please think of all the people you would be hurting."

"Like who? My parents? I’m not even welcome in their home anymore. My best friend? He doesn’t want anything to do with me."

"How about Laura? And Asher? And what about me? I care about you, Will." He had gradually crept closer until he was now within arm’s reach. He stretched out his hand and looked at me pleadingly. "Please Will, don’t do this. Give me the knife. Right now, all you can see is the darkness but there is light, I promise. I promise you, Will."

Suddenly it was as if everything drained out of me. The knife slipped from my fingers with a clatter as it struck the tiles. I crumpled slowly after it, my body wracked with enormous sobs that seemed to originate from the depths of my soul and shudder their way through my whole being. Aidan was at my side with his arms around me before I even hit the floor. We sat in the kitchen floor with his arms around me while he gently rocked me and I sobbed into his shoulder. I felt his tears mixing with my own and I knew he was hurting with me, sharing my pain. It somehow made the pain that much more bearable.

"I’m getting blood on your shirt," I blubbered.

"I don’t care," he said gently, then lifted me up like a small child and carried me to the sofa where he carefully laid me down. He ducked into the kitchen long enough to grab a dishtowel which he wrapped tightly around my wrist.

"It’s not deep. I’ll get a bandage and you’ll be fine," he said.

Then, keeping a concerned eye on me, he flipped through his address book and made a phone call. He spoke in low tones that I couldn’t quite make out, not that I tried all that hard. After he hung up, he picked me up again and carried me down the hall.

In the bathroom, he began pulling my clothes off. I didn’t even protest I was so wiped out. I felt as if I had been turned inside out, beaten, and then turned right side in again. When he had me stripped to my boxers, he turned the shower on and placed me under the spray. The cold water hit me like a slap in the face. Even with the bracing coolness, Aidan still had to practically hold me up and by the time the water was turned off, he was as soaked as I was.

He wrapped a thick, fluffy towel around my shivering body and once more lifted me up and carried me into the bedroom. He set me on the bed then turned to pull some clothes out of the dresser. He laid them next to me.

"Think you can get dressed while I change?" he asked gently.

I nodded and he left. I obediently started pulling on the clothes he had set out, feeling like a little kid, but not minding all that much. He was back much quicker than I would have thought possible and helped me finish getting dressed.

"Let’s go," he said when I was once more clothed.

"Go where?" I asked meekly.

"Do you trust me?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Then let’s go."

Aidan’s car pulled to a stop in an area clearly marked no parking in front of one of the less prominent buildings on his campus. The college was a small but respected school, built in a historic district of town around the turn of the century as an alternative to the more established and more expensive school on the other side of town. Most of the buildings were red brick with white trim and this one was no different, but it was obviously an afterthought and not part of the original layout.

Aidan jumped out of the car and came around to open my door. "Come on," he said.

"Why are we here?" I protested weakly.

"Follow me," was all he said. I climbed out and followed through the front door and down a short hall to a door marked with the name Dr. E. H. Wohler in simple gold lettering. We entered a room so small that if you sat on the provided sofa your knees almost touched the wall in front of you. It looked like they had commandeered a supply closet for their waiting room. A pleasant looking, slightly plump middle-aged woman sat at a desk behind a half-wall that served as a counter. She looked up as we entered.

"I’m Aidan Scott," Aidan said, "I called Dr. Wohler earlier, he’s expecting us."

"Yes, go right in." she said. She had a pleasant voice to match her pleasant look.

I balked slightly at that point, but Aidan took me gently but firmly by the arm and pulled me along. When we stepped into the office, it actually took me by surprise, even in the shape I was in. The difference between the sad, cramped lobby and this large but cozy room were like night and day. The harsh florescent lighting had been replaced with warm incandescent lamps. Thick oriental rugs had covered up the industrial grade carpet, and instead of a worn institutional couch, there were two inviting armchairs facing a large wooden desk. A man was standing behind the desk waiting expectantly for us. He was on the short side, not much taller than I was, with a receding hairline and glasses. He was wearing a tailored gray suit that spoke his success as clearly as if he’d hung a sign around his neck that read, "I’m rich."

"Hello, Aidan, it’s good to see you," the man (I presumed him to be Dr. Wohler) said, "And you must be Will?"

I looked uncertainly at Aidan. What exactly had he told him? Aidan and the doctor shook hands.

"Thanks for seeing us on such short notice, Doc," Aidan said as he gently pushed me into one the two chairs. He sat down in the other and the doctor settled into his plush executive chair.

"No problem, I always try to make time for my most promising student, and besides I just happened to have a cancellation on my schedule," he said the last with a small smile that showed he was kidding. "I just hope I can be of assistance. You said on the phone that it was an emergency?’

I turned a glare on Aidan but he didn’t even glance in my direction. "Dr. Wohler, can we have your complete confidentiality about what we are going to say?"

For a moment, the doctor looked somewhat insulted, then he looked at me, and an unspoken message seemed to pass between him and Aidan. He nodded, "Of course, as you know, any information that should come out while we are talking is held in complete confidence."

Aidan turned to me now. "Can I tell Dr. Wohler what’s going on?" I thought for a moment, and then nodded my consent. He quickly and succinctly outlined the events leading up to my depression and my attempted suicide that morning. When he had finished Dr. Wohler sat for a minute tapping his chin with one index finger, his expression unreadable. Then he pulled a legal pad out of a desk drawer and asked me a few questions. He scribbled on the pad the whole time while I talked. A mental picture of him drawing nudie pictures while I rattled on popped into my head, almost making me giggle out loud. I decided I was definitely in the right place since I was apparently going nucking futs as the t-shirt says.

When he’d used up his questions, he looked up and asked Aidan to excuse us. After he had slipped quietly from the room, Dr. Wohler turned his full attention on me.

"Well, Will," he said after a few seconds of carefully studying my face, "As you probably already know, you’re in a pretty deep depression. That’s the bad news. The good news is that depression is very treatable. Since your depression seems to be mainly because of your situation right now, and maybe some residual issues that you need to deal with regarding your upbringing, we could just work through it in some sessions. What I think is the better course is for us to set you up on some mild anti-depressants, get you out of this funk, get you so you’re thinking a little clearer, and then we can really tackle those problems. You’ll be able to handle a little poking at sore spots once your depression is under control. What do you think?"

I nodded hesitantly.

"Do you understand what causes depression?" he asked.

"Not really."

"Ok, to oversimplify it, there are lots of little cells in your brain, but they don’t touch. To get information from one cell to another they need a conductor. That conductor is called serotonin. When your body isn’t producing enough serotonin it can cause all sorts of problems, but the main one is depression. What we need to do is increase your serotonin level. Are you following me?"

I nodded.

"Ok, great!" He pulled open another desk drawer and pulled out some small boxes, "I’m going to give you some samples of a medicine that I think will do the trick. It’s a very mild drug that has very few, very mild side effects and it’s not habit-forming. You won’t feel an immediate difference; it takes a few weeks to get into your system. If this doesn’t seem to be working for you then I want you to tell me that. This may not be the right drug for you, but I promise there is a right one. This isn’t an exact science though, and we may have to try a couple before we hit the right one. I’m betting this one will be the ticket, however."

He slid the boxes across the desk to me and I picked them up.

"These are on the house. Take two of those a day to start with. I gave you a two-week supply; that’s the earliest that you would see some effect although it takes others longer sometimes. Is it ok if I bring Aidan back in now and tell him what we’ve decided?"

I nodded again and he pressed a button on his phone and spoke into the receiver, "Linda, could you send Aidan back in please?"

Aidan was back beside me in no time. Dr Wohler directed his comments to him, "You were right to bring Will here, Aidan. He was definitely in need of a doctor’s care. He is depressed but we are going to treat it aggressively with medication." He turned back to me. "Will, do you trust Aidan?"

I thought for a moment then nodded slowly, "Yes."

"Good. I think you know that not too many roommates would go to this length for someone they’ve only known for a month. I’m going to give Aidan the medicine to administer for now until you are in a better frame of mind." Aidan took the boxes and we both sat looking expectantly at the doctor. "There’s one more thing I want you to do for me before you go, Will. I would like you to make a covenant with Aidan that you will not hurt yourself before talking to him. Can you do that Will?"

I looked down at my lap and nodded somewhat hesitantly.

"Say it."

I look up, startled.

"Look at Aidan and say it. Tell him that you promise not to hurt yourself without talking to him first."

I slowly turned my head until I was looking into Aidan’s piercing green eyes. I saw myself mirrored in them, looking like a deer caught in headlights. I focused on the twin images of myself and forced the words from my mouth. "I promise I won’t hurt myself without talking to you first," I whispered hoarsely.

"Good!" said Dr. Wohler, "now remember, you made that promise in front of a witness and a man is only as good as his word. Aidan, take care of him, keep an eye on him and call me if anything comes up that you can’t handle. He probably shouldn’t be left alone for a few days. Do you have some friends to help out?"

"We’ll be ok," Aidan said confidently. I was glad someone was confident.

"Good, ok then. Will, I’ll see you in two weeks."

* * *

The next few days went by in a blur. Aidan was almost always with me and when he wasn’t Laura was. Once, Gabe even spent a tortured hour trying to make conversation while I stared dumbly at the television. But most of the time it was Aidan that watched over me, he even started sleeping in my bed, chastely of course. As far as I could tell, he never strayed from his side of the bed. At first, I thought the constant attention would be suffocating, but in reality, I found it very comforting. It was nice to know someone cared that deeply.

When the next week began, Aidan stayed home from school. When I protested, he said that everything was already arranged with his professors and for me not to worry about it.

Things settled into a nice, comfortable environment in which I slowly but surely began to feel better. The black curtain of depression began to lift and I began to feel hopeful once again. But as my spirits began to rise, so did my restlessness. I was working at my drawing table one day with Aidan sitting nearby as usual. He was supposedly reading but he was at my elbow if I so much as farted crooked. I got up to go look for a notebook that I was pretty sure was in my closet but Aidan insisted on getting it for me. After some bickering, I gave in with a sigh and went back to my drawing. When he still wasn’t back after several minutes I called back without looking up, "Did you find it? I told you I should just get it myself. I’m not an invalid you know."

"What are these?" he asked quietly from directly behind me. The closeness of his voice caused me to jump. I turned to see what he was talking about. He was holding one of my sketchbooks, the one in which I had drawn my suicide fantasies.

"They were…from before," I said softly. Looking at them now, I felt a strange horror, as if someone else had drawn them. It seemed impossible that they had come from my mind and my hand.

Aidan ripped the pages from the book with such a sudden, savage motion that I jumped again. He angrily shredded them one by one then gathered all the tiny pieces of paper and tossed them into the sink where he burned the whole lot. A strange shudder went down my spine as I watched the flames lick at the shreds of paper, eventually consuming them completely, leaving only a black mess that Aidan washed down the drain. The whole episode bothered me more than it should have. We ended up going to bed earlier than usual and I was extra glad for Aidan’s presence in my bed that night.

I awoke suddenly with the acrid smell of smoke still in my nostrils. I pushed myself into a sitting position and felt a sticky wetness on my hands. I looked down to see they were covered in blood. Whose? Mine? A knife lay on my pillow, glinting in the semi-darkness. I looked for Aidan but he wasn’t next to me in the bed. I was alone. Suddenly fire was all around my bed, jumping and leaping closer and closer like a living thing. I opened my mouth to scream but nothing came out. The flames crept closer and I squeezed my eyes closed so I wouldn’t have to watch my skin burn away like the edges of the paper.

"Will! Will!" It was Aidan’s voice. My eyes flew open to see his face, wide-eyed and frightened above me. "It was just a bad dream, Will. You’re ok. I’m right here."

My heart felt like it would beat right out of my chest and my breathing came in ragged gasps. Could it have been just a dream? But it must have been; there was no fire, no smoke, no blood. I was in my bed and Aidan was holding me, but the terror still clung to me like stubborn fog in weak sunlight.

"It’s ok, Will," Aidan whispered as he wrapped his arms around me. I felt my body slowly began to relax into his and I snuggled closer. I hadn’t felt so comforted since I was a little kid being held by my parents after a bad dream. I slowly drifted off to sleep.

The nightmare stayed away for the rest of the night and I awoke the next morning with Aidan’s arm still around me. I sat up suddenly, waking him in the process.

"Mornin’…" he mumbled sleepily.

I looked around the room for signs of a fire. It was silly I knew, but the nightmare images where still so vivid in my mind.

"Whatcha lookin’ for?" Aidan asked.

I lay back down without answering. Aidan raised himself up on one elbow to look into my face. "Are you ok?" he asked. Before I could answer, the phone began to ring. Aidan looked around for it. It was on my side and since I hadn’t made any move to answer it, he leaned over me to grab it up. His face was just a fraction of an inch from mine, so close I could feel his breath on my lips. Our eyes locked and he froze, the ringing phone momentarily forgotten. It stopped abruptly and the sudden silence brought us back to ourselves. Aidan quickly rolled back to his side of the bed. We carefully avoided looking at each other for an awkward moment before the phone began to ring again.

"I’ll get it," I said quickly. "Hello?"

"Will! Just who I was looking for! Did I wake you up?" It was Nikki.

"No, I was awake."

"Oh, because I just called and the phone rang and rang and no one answered so I thought…well anyway, I’ve got some good news. How soon can you get to the gallery?"

"Um…how soon can I get to the gallery?" I repeated to Aidan.

"An hour?" Aidan suggested with a shrug.

"An hour," I relayed.

"Perfect! See you then! Ciao!"

"See you then," I said to a dead line, "Nikki wants me to come to the gallery; she said she has good news. Have you ever noticed how you can hear the exclamation points when she talks?"

Aidan laughed as he sat up, "Do you think she sold one of your paintings?"

"That would be so cool!" I exclaimed as I jumped up out of the bed. For the first time since my depression had set in I felt really excited.

Aidan got up and started out of the room, "You take your shower first. I’ll cook us breakfast. This calls for a celebration!"

"We don’t even know what we’re celebrating," I called after him.

"Who cares? I’m just glad we’ve got some good news for a change."

After we had both showered and enjoyed a delicious omelet that Aidan had whipped up, we arrived at Avant Guard slightly ahead of schedule. Today, the Dixie Chicks were serenading walkers-by on the plaza from the open door of the gallery. They were belting out a good-bye to Earl as we walked in to the seemingly empty showroom. As we were standing there trying to decide what to do next, Derrick pulled is appearing trick. I made a mental note to ask Nikki how he did that. When he saw who we were, he dropped his poise and yelled over his shoulder, "Nikolia, it’s your latest find, the next big thing."

Nikki swept past him with a wide grin on her face, "Guess what?"

"I sold a painting?" I guessed.

Nikki frowned, "No, I’m sorry Will; you didn’t sell a painting…" I felt my face drop before she went on, "…you sold all three!"

"What?" Aidan and I chorused, then I added, "You’re kidding!"

Nikki laughed, "I stirred things up a bit, called a few people to come see them, told them you were a newly discovered talent and boom…they sold themselves."

"I can’t believe this!" I said.

"I can!" Aidan laughed.

"Now before you get your hopes up, I priced them on the low side since you are an unknown at this point, but now we have a benchmark. They only go up from here. We never really discussed prices so I hope you aren’t disappointed."

I was surprised to realize I hadn’t even thought about money. Just the fact that someone thought my art was good enough that they wanted it was enough for me at the moment. "How much?" I asked.

"Three hundred."

I blinked. "Dollars?"

"No, pesos. Of course dollars."

"For all three? But that’s great!"

"No, not for all three, each."

"Th-th-three hundred dollars each?"

"That’s nine hundred dollars," Aidan said helpfully in a somewhat awed voice.

"Minus my commission of course," Nikki said with a wink. I felt like I needed to sit down but there was nowhere to sit. I swayed a bit as Nikki went on, "How do you feel about doing a one-man show? I’d like to strike while the iron is hot, so to speak. These people that bought your paintings are the types who like to brag about their latest acquisitions to all their rich friends, so you can be sure your name will be circulating right now. I’d rather not wait more than, say, a month or so."

I was still reeling from the last blow so it took me a while to catch up with her and realize what she was saying. Things always seemed to happen faster than I could keep up with when Nikki was around. "One man show? Are you serious? When?" I finally managed.

"Very serious. As for when, well, it’s the beginning of October now and I’d really like to get it in before Thanksgiving, so let’s say mid-November. That would give you about a month. You wouldn’t have to do anything but paint; I’ll take care of everything else. Think you can pull it off?"

"Do I have a choice?" I said, "I suspect that this is the kind of thing that doesn’t happen twice. I’ll manage somehow. It’s not like I have a job to worry about."

"Speaking of that, just tell me if it’s none of my business but Aidan mentioned the other day that you’d quit your job and I talked it over with Derrick and we could use some extra help here at the gallery. We can’t pay a lot but it’s better than nothing and we could work around your painting schedule. Interested?"

"I’d say! What would I be doing?"

"Some office work, watching the floor for us if one of us can’t do it, helping with sales, manual labor, you know, the usual."

"And Derrick was ok with this?"

"He wasn’t at first but I can be pretty persuasive when I need to be, and anything that means less work for him will usually win out in the end."

"Will you teach me that trick of Derrick’s?"

"You mean his poof-here-I-am trick?"

"Yeah, that one."

Nikki laughed, "Sorry, that’s top-secret, but I can tell you that he practiced it for hours when we were kids."

"I did not!" yelled Derrick from somewhere unseen.

"So does this mean you want the job?"

"Hell, yeah!"

"Great! You’re hired! You can start next Monday."

We shook hands and Aidan and I left. We talked excitedly about selling the paintings and my new job all the way home. I started right to work on planning out what I wanted to do for the one-man show and even started on a sketch. Nothing more was mentioned for the rest of the day about that strange moment that morning in bed.

Aidan returned to his own bed that night, saying that he thought I was ok now by myself. I lay awake that night wondering what it would have been like if he had kissed me that morning. I knew that was what had been going through his mind when our eyes had locked. Suddenly it seemed of the utmost importance to know what Aidan’s lips felt like against mine. Almost without even thinking, I got up and walked across the hall to Aidan’s door. I rapped lightly.

"Come in," he answered right away, so I knew he was having as much trouble sleeping as I was.

I opened the door and then just stood there stupidly, suddenly unsure of what exactly I was doing. What was I hoping would happen?

Aidan was sitting up in his bed, his bare chest glowing in the moonlight which poured in from his window. He was looking at me with a confused expression. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, I just…I missed you," I said awkwardly in a voice that was barely above a whisper.

For what seemed like an eternity, he just stared back at me. I could see his mind turning my words every which way, seeking out every implication of my appearing in his bedroom after midnight. I felt like a little kid waking up his daddy after he’s had a bad dream. Just as I turned to go back to my room with a mumbled apology, he called my name. I turned back to see him toss the sheets aside and pat the bed next to him. I slowly shut the door and walked to the side of the bed before hesitating again. My heart was racing and I couldn’t keep my hands from shaking. In the near darkness, I could see Aidan searching my face, his eyes seeking mine out. Then he reached out and tentatively took my hand, pulling me gently onto the bed.

The kiss was so soft, so quick that I almost thought I was still imagining it. The second one, though, was much more decisive, as if we both now knew what we wanted. He pulled back and searched my eyes once more. I reached around his neck and pulled him back to me for another kiss, this one much longer and more passionate.

I don’t know how long we stayed like that, kissing as if our lives depended on it. I was lost in the moment. It was like my first kiss all over again, but so much better. I remember the first time I kissed Beth I had wondered where all the fireworks were. Now I knew.

I felt his hand slide over my shoulder, across my chest and down my stomach as his kisses moved down my neck. He left a trail of angel kisses down my chest and stomach where his hand had passed just moments before. His mouth lingered over my navel and he tickled it with his tongue. I felt my breath rush out as my stomach did somersaults. His mouth moved back up to meet mine but his hand slid under my boxers. I almost jumped out of the bed when he found his target. Then, in a blur of motion, he broke away and before I could even think our boxers were off and he was on top of me, kissing me once again with a passion that caught me off guard. Our bodies began to move in synchronicity as the fireworks turned into an all out explosion.

Afterwards, as I lay wrapped tightly in his arms listening to his regular breathing, I began to question what had just happened. Did I love Aidan or had I just gone to him because I missed the security of having someone next to me? I didn’t have the energy to pursue that line of thinking right then. I pushed the thoughts from my head and fell into a deep sleep.

They were back with a vengeance as soon as I opened my eyes the next morning though. My first coherent thought was, "Oh my God! What did we do?" But of course, I had all the evidence I needed spooned into my back. My mind raced. Did I love Aidan? I wasn’t sure. I was hurting from Joey’s and my family’s rejections; maybe I just needed to feel loved for one night. But that would make me one hell of a horrible person, using Aidan like that. Of course, I hadn’t gone expecting all that to happen…had I? Aidan was without a doubt the most caring guy I had ever met. I knew I could love him, but I also knew I still had a lot of unresolved feelings for Joey.

I felt Aidan stir behind me. His lips brushed my shoulder, then my ear. "I love you, Will," he whispered.

I sat up with a jolt.

"Will?"

"Aidan, last night…"

"Was incredible. You can’t imagine how long I’ve wanted to do that, to hold you in my arms. It was so hard lying next to you all those nights, so close and yet…"

"Aidan…"

"I’ve wanted so badly to tell you that I loved you, but I knew I had to wait; that you had to make the first move.

"Aidan, last night was a mistake."

Punching him in the stomach wouldn’t have created the affect those words had on him. He seemed to cave in as his face fell. "What?" he whispered.

"We shouldn’t have…done what we did."

"Make love? Say it, Will. We shouldn’t have made love? Why? What do you mean? You came to me. I thought you wanted me."

"I don’t know what I wanted. That’s the problem. I still love Joey and right now I can’t separate what I feel for him and what happened last night. Maybe I did want you, but what if I really only went to you because I need to feel loved, because I couldn’t have Joey?"

"I don’t understand this," Aidan ran his hands through his hair, "Do you love me?"

"I…I don’t know."

Aidan stood up abruptly, realized he was still naked, and grabbed the sheet to cover himself; clutching it like a security blanket.

"Aidan, I do love you," I said hurriedly, "You’ve become my best friend these past few weeks. I don’t know anyone else who would have done what you’ve done for me. I’m just so confused right now. I don’t know if I love you the way you want me to love you."

"You didn’t seem confused last night."

"I…it’s just…I still have all these feelings for Joey."

"Joey’s straight. No, he’s not just straight; he’s homophobic. I’m here, right now. And I’m telling you I love you with everything I am. Isn’t that enough for you? Aren’t I enough for you?"

"It’s not that you’re not enough. These feelings I have for Joey, I’ve had them for years. I can’t just make them go away. I don’t have an on and off switch. I wish I did. And maybe…maybe once he gets used to the idea, maybe he’ll be ok with it. Maybe he’ll even realize he loves me too."

"Oh God! Wake up, Will! It’s not going to happen. The guy’s an asshole. I hadn’t told you because I didn’t want to hurt you and I thought you had enough to deal with, but ever since you broke the big news to your old pal Joey, he’s been hell-bent on proving his heterosexual masculinity. Shelley dumped him weeks ago when she found out he was cheating on her and he’s been screwing everything with tits ever since. He’s become the campus sleaze over night."

"Not Joey. He wouldn’t do that."

"Guess what? He is. He’s also managed to maintain an almost constant state of stone-assed drunkenness at every party that’s been held since school began, whether he was invited or not. His trademark phrase is, "Can you believe I used to be friends with a fag?"

The last statement hit me like a blow. Aidan saw it written all over my face. "Oh God, Will, I’m sorry."

I stood up and staggered to the door.

"Will, please, I’m sorry."

I walked across the hall to my room and shut the door behind me. Immediately, Aidan was knocking and talking through the door. I quickly turned the lock.

"Will, please open the door. Talk to me. Don’t shut me out."

I walked to the window and threw it up with a bang.

"Will! I shouldn’t have said that, it was wrong. I was hurt. Please open the door."

I climbed out the window and onto the fire escape with a strange sense of detachment. It would all be over soon. Aidan sounded like he was crying now; he’d stopped banging on the door. "Will, please forgive me…" he sobbed.

I didn’t feel anything anymore, but I felt I owed him at least that much so I turned back to the window. "I forgive you," I tried to say but it came out as a kind of croak, so I cleared my throat and said it again only louder. Then I turned and climbed onto the rail. I stood for a second balancing precariously on the top rung. The ground looked so far away. I heard a key fumbling in the lock of my door and I thought it was strange that I didn’t know he had a key to my room.

"Will…NO!"

I jumped.

For a brief moment, I felt like I was flying, all my troubles were gone. Then the ground started rushing towards me.

"Noooooo!"

Blackness.

Beep Beep Beep Beep Beep

I’ve always been especially sensitive to repetitive noises. They annoy me in a way that very few things do. The first thing I remember thinking is how much I wanted that damn noise to stop.

Beep Beep Beep

I had to make it stop. But that meant I had to wake up.

Beep Beep Beep

Oh, but I didn’t want to wake up. It was so nice just floating in this darkness; not having to deal with life’s problems.

Beep Beep Beep

But the infernal beeping wouldn’t stop. I tried to open my eyes. No really, I did; but I couldn’t seem to lift my lids.

Beep Beep Beep

I tried to move my hand, thinking I could find the source without the effort of opening my eyes, but they wouldn’t move either.

Beep Beep Beep

I tried to speak, but even that proved to take more effort that I could seem to pull together.

Beep Beep Beep

I couldn’t stand it. Putting forth an extreme effort, I parted my lips and forced the words past them.

"Make it stop," I rasped.

"Will? Will!" I heard a voice; it sounded like Aidan.

"Is he awake?" Another voice, this one sounding suspiciously like my mother.

"I think he said something," said the first voice.

"What did he say?"

"I don’t know; I couldn’t understand him. Will! Will, can you hear me?"

I mustered up some more energy, I felt I was fast depleting my meager supplies, and said again, "Make it stop."

"Oh my God! He’s awake!" Aidan screamed.

"Nurse! Nurse! He’s awake!" Mom yelled. She continued yelling this as her voice faded away.

The beeping was still there so I tried again, but this time I decided to be a little more specific, "Make the beeping stop."

"Oh my God! Will, we’ve been so scared!" Aidan babbled on as if I hadn’t just asked, quite reasonably, I thought, that he turn off the beeping. "You’re in the hospital," which explained the beeping, "and you’ve been in a coma. You broke your arm and banged up your head pretty bad, but they said it’s a miracle you’re even alive. I’m so glad you’re awake. You were in the coma for two weeks. They were even starting to talk about what to do if you didn’t wake up."

I seriously considered sinking back into the beaconing darkness at this point, but that incredibly irritating beeping was still droning on in the background of Aidan’s relieved prattle. I decided to try one last time, "Please make it stop."

"Make what stop? The pain?"

"The beeping."

"Beeping? What…oh, the heart monitor. I can’t. It’s what lets us know you’re alive."

"I wanted to die."

"I…I know. But it wasn’t your time. You’ve still got so much living to do."

I would have retched right about then but it was all I could do to talk; and while the effect would have been quite dramatic, I didn’t think it was worth the effort. I heard my mother’s voice coming closer again. She was talking to someone whose voice I didn’t recognize.

"I’d really like to have a look at him before I can say, Mrs. Keegan. Let me talk to him then we’ll see," he was saying. His voice stopped above me. "Will? I’m Dr. Cherrix. I’m your doctor. Can you hear me?"

"Yes. Can you make the beeping stop?"

"Yes, but right now we have more important things to tend to. We’ll get to that in a minute, but only if you can stay with me long enough to answer some questions." Ah, nothing like blackmail while you are laying half-dead in a hospital bed. "Can you open your eyes?"

"No."

"Can you try for me?"

"No."

"If you play by my rules I’ll make the beeping stop."

He was playing dirty, but what choice did I have? I tried to open my eyes again, but my lids felt like lead weights. Suddenly the beeping seemed to grow louder, giving me the extra push that I needed. I managed to get my eyes open a tiny bit, but the light was so bright they immediately snapped shut again. I wondered if the effort would count for anything.

"That was good, Will. Now try again." Apparently not.

I sighed. Or I would have if I wasn’t busy fighting a battle of wills with my leaden eyelids. I finally forced them open again and after much blinking and adjusting to the bright light, somehow managed to keep them open this time. As the dancing spots slowly faded, I saw Aidan, Mom and a man I assumed to be Dr. Cherrix hovering over my bed. All were wearing concerned, earnest expressions. Dr. Cherrix looked as if this was his usual expression. He was a serious looking middle-aged man, with graying ginger hair, pale blue eyes and a ruddy complexion.

"Hi," I said.

They all broke into smiles.

"Hello! Welcome back to the land of the living," Dr. Cherrix said, "Now that I’ve got your attention I want you to try a few more things for me. Can you tell me your full name?"

"William Spencer Keegan."

"Good! Do you know what month it is?"

"Is it the same month that is was when I jumped?"
"No, you were unconscious for two weeks."

"Then I guess it must be November."

"Great! How many fingers am I holding up?"

I was starting to feel like a trained monkey. "Three."

"And now?"

"Still three."

"And now?"

"One."

"Fantastic!" He made some notes on a clipboard.

"Do I get a banana now?"

He looked up with confusion, "Hmm? A banana?"

"Never mind, can you just make the beeping stop."

"I’ll make you a deal. You don’t go back to that secret place in your mind again and I’ll make the beeping stop. Do we have a deal?"

Anything to make the beeping stop, "Deal."

"Good answer," he said and punched some buttons on one of the several machines that appeared to have sprouted from my body while I was asleep. At last, the beeping stopped.

"Thank you," I said sincerely.

"You’re welcome."

"Did you make the beeping louder before I opened my eyes?"

"I sure did," he grinned, "We do what we have to do to get the job done. I figured if that beeping was enough to pull you out of your coma we were going to milk it for all it was worth. Apparently it worked. It may be a little early to say, there are some more tests I’d like to do, but I’m going to go out on a limb here and say that there appears to be no permanent damage from your failed attempt at flying."

When no one even made an attempt to laugh at his weak stab at humor he hurried on, "Well, I’ll give you a chance to talk to these people here. They haven’t left your side since you came in, you know."

He turned to Mom and Aidan. "Don’t keep him up too long, though. I know he just woke up, but rest is still a high priority. I’ll send the person we spoke about down to check on him later."

"Send who down?" I asked as he was leaving. He either didn’t hear me or pretended not to, so I asked again, this time directing the question to Mom and Aidan. They looked at each other for a moment and then Mom answered.

"Will, do you know why you’re in here?"

"I jumped off the fire escape." She seemed taken aback by my matter-of-fact tone, so I elaborated, "I wanted to die."

"Well…um…that’s what we need to talk about. Not right now, of course, but sometime soon. They won’t release you until they do a psychiatric evaluation. Not that you would be leaving today anyway. And when you do leave you’ll be coming home with us of course."

"No."

"What?"

"I’ll go back home with Aidan."

"What?" they both said.

I closed my eyes. "I want to go back to the apartment."

"Are you sure that would be for the best, Will?" Aidan asked as Mom said, "I don’t think that’s such a good idea."

I opened my eyes again even though it was the last thing I wanted to do. I looked at Aidan, "Do you want me to come back?" It was a loaded question and we both knew it. How much Mom knew or guessed I don’t know.

"If you want to come back, of course it’s ok with me," he said quietly.

"Then I’m going home with Aidan," I said with as much finality as I could muster. "I’m really tired now." And I was. I felt like I had just completed a cross-country marathon.

Mom looked upset, as if she wanted to say more, but she just patted my hand, the one on my arm that wasn’t broken, and said, "Ok, Will, you get some rest. We’ll talk more when you wake up."

That, of course, was exactly what I was afraid of. Just before my eyes slammed shut, I saw her shoot Aidan a look that clearly said, "We need to talk."

* * *

When I woke up next, the sun was slanting low across the floor with a warm glow that told me it was late afternoon. The overhead lights were out and Aidan sat slumped over in the room’s one chair, asleep. Mom was nowhere to be seen.

I lay there watching Aidan sleep. It occurred to me how much he had given up for me, first to stay home with me while I was depressed and then sitting here in the hospital waiting for me to wake up. I knew without any doubt that he loved me. And I knew that logically, I should love him too. He was everything anyone in their right mind would want in a guy – loyal, kind, honest, loving, patient, forgiving, persistent, and funny to boot! But then, people in their right mind didn’t jump off fire escapes, did they? And I did love him; I just couldn’t shake my feelings for Joey. My mind couldn’t accept this new Joey. I had to see it with my own eyes.

Aidan stirred and his eyes flickered open. "You’re awake," he said.

"Thank you, Captain Obvious," I said, but my voice came out in a raspy croak so it lost some of its zing in the process. Aidan grinned.

"A bit grouchy, aren’t we?"

"In the past month I found out I was gay, I lost my best friend, my dad disowned me, I lost my job, and I can’t even kill myself properly. I think I have a right to be grouchy." That little snit took a lot out of me, leaving me almost gasping.

"Ok, granted you’ve had a rough time. So get over it." I blinked in surprise. Where were the sickeningly sweet and equally empty platitudes I was so used to? He went on, he seemed to be building up steam, "It’s time to stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself. So what if you’re gay? So are 10% of the population and you don’t see them jumping off fire escapes! They’re throwing parades for God’s sake! And so what if your best friend dumped you? If he can’t accept you for who you are, what kind of friend was he to begin with? And so what if you lost your job? You already have a great job at Avant Guard – which is still waiting for you by the way. And so what if your dad says you aren’t welcome in his home anymore? You are welcome in mine and that’s where you live so that’s all that matters. You’d think after all this that I’d at least count for something." His chest was heaving as he slumped back in his chair. I had a feeling this had been building for quite some time now.

I sat in stunned silence for several minutes while Aidan pulled himself back together. Then he stood up. "I was supposed to let them know when you woke up," he said tersely. He started for the door, and then paused.

"You know, I’ve been beating myself up for the past two weeks, blaming myself for your attempted suicide. Everyone kept telling me it wasn’t my fault, but I wouldn’t believe them…until just now. Now I see that it was your own selfishness that made you jump. I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here for you as much as I can, but I’m not going to feel guilty anymore."

* * *

"Hello, Will," I reluctantly opened my eyes to see Dr. Wohler standing next to my bed, "How are you feeling?"

I eyed him warily, "Physically or emotionally?"

"Let’s start with physically."

"My arm hurts and my head is killing me."

"You’re very fortunate that’s all that’s hurting. That wasn’t a very smart thing to do."

"I know."

"Do you? I’m not really sure you grasp exactly what happened. Will, you’ve let yourself become controlled by your circumstances. These things that are happening to you that seem so incredibly overwhelming are here today and gone tomorrow, to be replaced by new problems. Suicide is a permanent solution to a temporary problem. It’s an old cliché, I know, but it’s still around because it’s so true. Life isn’t like a computer game where you say ‘oops, I didn’t really mean to do that’ and click undo. There are no extra men. You’re life is a precious gift and you almost threw that away. It was spared this time, but who knows what might happen next time? I don’t believe that things happen randomly. By all accounts, you should be dead and yet here you are."

"Aidan said I was selfish."

"And what do you think?"

"I think…maybe he was right."

"Suicide is the ultimate selfish act. You are thinking only about what you want. You want the pain to stop. You want to escape. You don’t want to face your problems anymore. It’s the people left behind that have to deal with the repercussions of your selfishness."

"I never thought of it like that," I said softly.

"Of course not. You were too busy thinking about yourself. You know, the doctors told me that Aidan hasn’t left this room except to eat and shower. They were worried about him. Worried he was going to collapse. I’d say that’s some friend. I suspect that there might even be some feelings there that go beyond simple friendship. Have you thought about that?"

I nodded.

"You broke a promise you made to Aidan. You promised you wouldn’t hurt yourself without talking to him first. That’s a pretty big breach of trust."

You don’t even know the half of it, I thought as I remembered the argument that precipitated my jump.

"Will," he went on, "I’m going to switch your medication to something a little stronger. I’m going to check on you when they say you are physically ready to go home and I’ll probably make a recommendation that they release you. But I really want to encourage you to come see me again as soon as you are ready. There are a lot of issues that you haven’t even begun to deal with. Will you do that?’

I nodded again.

"I’m going to trust you on that. For now, just concentrate on getting better. Get some rest." He patted my leg and then left me alone with my thoughts.

I had betrayed Aidan twice over and he was still willing to sit by my side. I owed him so much…and yet Joey still had first place in my heart. If I ever wanted to move on, I knew I would have to find out if everything was lost with Joey or if there was any hope of salvaging at least our friendship. I had to talk to Joey.

* * *

When I woke up again, Mom was in the chair that had last held Aidan. It was completely dark outside. Mom woke up as soon as I stirred, if she’d really been asleep at all. She stood up and moved to my side quickly.

"How are you?" she asked.

"I’m ok. Does Dad know you’re here?"

"Yes."

"What does he say?"

"It doesn’t matter what he says. You’re hurt and I’m here, that’s all that matters."

"I’ll be ok."

She was quiet for a minute, then said, "Will, I want you to know that I don’t approve of the way your father has just cut you off."

I smiled at her; I knew this was her way of apologizing. "But you don’t dare go against his wishes, huh?"

"I’m here aren’t I?" She was right, that said a lot. I nodded. "That doesn’t mean I understand or approve of…well, you know, but I do still and always will love you with all my heart. We don’t need to talk about all that now, just know that I love you."

I nodded since it was too hard to talk around the lump in my throat.

She stayed for quiet a while. We talked about my art, about my new job at the gallery, how I liked the apartment and about Nikki but we carefully avoided any more mention about my sexuality or Dad. Still it was nice, but after a while I began to get drowsy from the pain medicine so Mom told me to go back to sleep.

As she stood up to leave she said, "I spent a lot of time with Aidan these last two weeks." I wasn’t sure what to say so I said nothing. After a minute she gave me a small smile, "He’s a nice boy, Will." She patted my hand and left, leaving me wondering if that meant what I thought it did.

* * *

I spent the next few days in the hospital undergoing every test imaginable before they finally pronounced me fit to go home. The highlight was when I got a visit from a well-meaning but ignorant pastor that Dad sent over to try and talk me into turning my back on my sinful ways. If I would only repent, he insisted, I would be freed from my unnatural desires. Uh huh. Unnatural for whom? They seemed plenty natural to me. Dad himself never showed up although Mom made several more visits.

The final damage report said that besides my broken arm and quite a bit of nasty bruising that was already beginning to fade; you would never know I had done a belly flop from three stories. I was still quite stiff but they assured me that would go away as I moved around more. I had a fiberglass cast on my left arm that was a whole heck of a lot lighter than the plaster one I’d had when I broke my arm as a kid.

Aidan drove me home and helped me inside. When he opened the door to our apartment, a loud roar greeted us, "Welcome home!"

The apartment seemed to be full of people. I suppose there really weren’t that many; it just seemed like more because they were all crowded into out small entryway. I saw Laura, Gabe, Nikki, Sam, Asher, and Killian, even Derrick, although he didn’t seem especially thrilled to be there. I was most surprised to see Mom. Dad was once again nowhere in sight. Everyone stayed for cake and ice cream. Someone had thought themselves quite clever, I’m sure, in ordering a cake with a dive-bombing icing plane on top of it. No one stayed too late though, since I still tired quickly. Everyone signed my cast on the way out.

As soon as they were gone, Aidan gave me a pain pill then helped me down the hall and into bed. When he started out of the room, I called him back.

"Aidan," I began awkwardly, "I’m really sorry…about…about everything. I’m sorry I came to you like that before I was ready. I’m sorry I broke my promise to you. I’m sorry I was so selfish. But most of all I’m sorry I hurt you."

He stood for a moment then quietly said, "You’re forgiven, Will," then turned to leave.

"Forgiven but not forgotten?" I asked.

He paused but didn’t turn around, "No, not forgotten." And he was gone.

As I feel asleep with the aid of the pain pill I wondered if the damage I had done to our friendship was going to prove more permanent than the damage I had done to my body.

I hatched a plan over the next several days that I was sure would either exorcize Joey from my life forever or let me know conclusively whether there was any hope for us. My plan would go into effect that Friday night. Aidan had said that Joey had become a party animal and there was never any shortage of parties on a Friday night in a college town. All I had to do was find the one he was at and get him alone. Easy, huh? I would have to wing it from there since I had no clue how he would react but I felt confident that I knew Joey well enough to handle it.

The only hitch was that I had to get out of the apartment without arousing Aidan’s suspicion. He was back in school now and not keeping the eagle eye on me that he had been before everything happened so I decided to slip out before he got home. I’d leave a note or something so he wouldn’t worry.

Friday afternoon finally rolled around. I had spent all morning fretting over what to wear. I wanted to look my best. Finally, I had settled on a flashy club shirt that Joey had given me for my last birthday and a nice pair of jeans. I had only worn the shirt a few times, flashy wasn’t my usual style, but I thought it was a nice touch. I took one last look in the mirror and decided it would have to do. The cast didn’t exactly scream suave and sophisticated but there wasn’t much I could do about that.

I had called Laura earlier in the day and managed to find out where the major parties were that night without her getting too suspicious. There were three that I really wanted to hit, but as near as I could figure, I had at least three hours to kill before I could start my rounds. I decided to take some pictures while the light was still good. My camera was in the car and all I had to do was stop at Wal-Mart and pick up some film. Then it was just a matter of driving around waiting for inspiration.

It wasn’t too hard to find. While I often made fun of the Eastern Shore of Maryland, where I had grown up and the insulated life we lived, it was without a doubt an incredibly beautiful place to live. Bordered by the Atlantic Ocean on one side and the Chesapeake Bay on the other, the isthmus was made up of all of Delaware, ten counties of Maryland and two counties of Virginia. The state names were combined to get the name Delmarva Peninsula, by which it was often called. The region is rich in history and natural treasures. Much of the area is still rural and even the more urban areas, like the small city I lived in, were surrounded by the flat farmland that is so typical of the Shore. Drive a few minutes outside the city limits in any direction and you’re just as likely to see a white-tailed deer as a human being.

I wanted to drive to Assateague Island, but I knew I didn’t have enough time to drive there tonight, so I contented myself with the wooded countryside that wove itself around the picturesque Wicomico River. I stopped often to snap some photos of an abandoned house here, a forgotten graveyard there. I caught the sun in a spectacular display of color that would make for a great backdrop for the paintings. By the time the sun dropped below the tree line, I had taken up three rolls of film. I was confident that at least some of the photos I had taken would produce a great composition for a painting.

I glanced at my car clock as I drove down the darkening roads. It was show time. The first party I hit was just getting started and no one even knew Joey so I quickly moved on. At the next party, several people knew Joey, although no one looked impressed, but none of them had any reason to think he was coming there. One guy thought he would probably be at the last party on my list since that was where all the booze would be. I left my cell phone number with the guy just in case and moved on to crash my next party.

Turned out that the third time was a charm. I wasn’t there very long at all before some girl said she’d heard Joey say that he was coming to this particular party tonight. I crossed my fingers and settled in to wait for Joey to make his appearance. While I waited, I looked around. This was apparently the party to be at this weekend. The house was filling up quickly. There was a large fenced in backyard with an in-ground pool, but so far, no one was making any move in that direction. The damp, chilly weather probably had something to do with that. Loud music pumped from somewhere and beer was in abundance. I had never been a party animal by any stretch, but even to my untrained eye, it appeared that at least half the partiers present were stoned already. I noticed several girls eying me hungrily; I felt like fresh meat in the lion cage at the zoo. A flirtatious redhead pressed a cold bottle into my hand and I passed it on to the first empty-handed person I encountered. I figured I’d need all my wits about me for my mission that night.

"So how’d you get that cast? You don’t look like the rough and tumble type." I turned to find a petite, attractive girl with shoulder length honey blonde hair and light blue eyes looking me over.

"I, uh…fell three stories off a fire escape," I stuttered as I blushed furiously.

She cocked an eyebrow, "Must have been some party!" She took a drag off a cigarette and blew smoke in my direction.

"Something like that," I muttered, already trying to figure out how to gracefully disentangle myself.

"My name is Caitlin," she said.

"I’m Will."

"Nice to meet you, Will," she flashed me quick smile that revealed even, white teeth. She was really quite pretty. Too bad I wasn’t straight. "Do you go to school here? I don’t think I recognize you."

"No, I’m meeting a friend here, actually."

"Oh really? Too bad. What’s her name? Maybe I know her."

"Him, my friend’s a guy. His name is Joey Taylor."

Her expression changed in the blink of an eye, "You’re friends with Joey Taylor? You should really choose your friends more carefully."

"We’ve been friends our entire lives. He’s my best friend, but I…lost touch with him a few months ago and I was hoping to run into him here."

"Well I hope you don’t. You seem like too nice a guy for slime like him."

"Why do you say that? What’s he done?"

"For starters he’s screwed two of my friends then dumped them the next day. He promises he’s in love with you and is ready to change his ways because you’re ‘the one,’ gets you in bed and then it’s wham-bam without so much as a thank-you-ma’am."

"Joey?" I asked incredulously. Even after Aidan had told me almost the same thing it was hard to picture my best friend doing these things.

"Yes, Joey. Plus he’s almost never sober anymore. He’s even shown up in class a few times blasted. The professor threw him out." She lowered her voice and leaned towards me, "I’ve heard he got some poor girl pregnant then told her he’d pay for the abortion; that he didn’t want anything to do with a kid."

I shook my head in disbelief. How could this person she was describing be the same person I had grown up with?

Caitlin laid her hand gently on my good arm, "I’m sorry to be the one to tell you your old friend is such a loser, but really, you’re better off without him."

"If you’re trying to get in his pants, Caty-baby, I gotta tell ya it’s a lost cause…ya don’t havva dick," a familiar voice slurred from behind me. I spun around but not before seeing a look of disgust mar Caitlin’s pretty face.

"Joey!" I said.

"Hey fag, what are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at some gay bar in Rehomo?" He said, referring to a nearby gay friendly town by its unfriendly nickname. The smell of alcohol almost knocked me over.

I blinked rapidly as I felt my face heat up, "Joey, I came to see you. Can we talk?"

"What’s to talk about? You’re a fucking fag and I’m not. End of discussion."

"Joey, please, just a few minutes?" I was embarrassed to be begging in front of Caitlin, but it was as if I couldn’t help myself.

A foreign smile spread slowly across Joey’s face, cruel and ugly. "Ok," he said, "I’ll do you a favor if you do one for me. Follow me." He turned and started weaving through the crowd and up the stairs to the second floor as if he knew where he was going. I followed wordlessly. Apparently, he did know where he was going; he walked confidently to a closed door, opened it, and entered. He shut the door as soon as I followed him in. He immediately started unbuttoning his pants, letting them drop to the floor.

"What are you doing?" I asked although I had an awful feeling that I knew.

He pushed his boxers down and his erection sprung up. "It’s what you wanted isn’t it, Willie? A quick suck off your old pal, Joey? Well, here it is; come on, I don’t have all night."

"Joey, pull your pants up. I just want to talk to you."

"Suck first, talk later. Come on, get on your knees."

"No! Joey…" He grabbed his dick and started jerking off, hard and fast. "Will you stop that?" I yelled.

"You know you want it, Will," he taunted. "Better hurry, I’m almost there already."

"No, I do not want it. What’s happened to you? I thought I knew you, but I don’t know who this person is. What happened to the old Joey?"

"He’s gone, Wee Willie Winkle," he sneered, using my despised childhood nickname, "This is the new improved Joe Cool. I’m a chick-magnet; they can’t get enough of my dick. I can have any girl I want whenever I want. Do you really wanna pass up your one chance at a piece of this?"

"You’ve become a sleaze who everybody either hates or pities."

"What’s wrong, Will? Can’t have me so now you’re jealous?" His hand hadn’t slowed down the whole time and now his body suddenly tensed and he began to shoot onto the floor. "Look at all that going to waste. It could have been yours, Will."

I’d had enough. I spun around in disgust and yanked the door open. But Joey was always quicker than I was. He was on me before I even got the door halfway open, slamming me against it, and pressing his body against mine. Pain shot up my arm and I gasped in agony. I felt Joey’s still hard erection press into my buttocks and smelled his foul breath in my face.

"Where ya goin’, Willie?" he rasped, "We were just getting’ started."

"Get off me, Joey," I gasped.

Ignoring my plea, he reached down, grabbed my broken arm, and spun me around, slamming my back against the door. While I was still off balance, he pressed his mouth against mine so hard I felt my teeth cut into my lips as his hand grabbed my crotch painfully. I reacted without thought, bringing my knee up sharply into his groin and slamming him in the face with my cast at the same time. He bent double and stumbled back. I was through the door before he even knew what had hit him.

Ignoring the pain in my arm, I took the stairs two at a time and plunged into the crowd at the bottom. I grabbed a bottle out of someone’s hand and gulped it down frantically trying to get rid of the sour taste of Joey’s mouth. My arm was throbbing. I wanted to curl up in a ball and just cry but there was hardly room to move. I found myself being moved around the throng like a leaf caught in the current of a fast moving river.

A sudden wave of nausea swept over me and I began to push and shove my way in the direction of the hallway. I managed to find a bathroom, which was mercifully empty, and slammed the door shut just in time to get violently sick. I splashed some cold water on my face and looked up at myself in the mirror as what had just happened began to sink in. A pair of haunted eyes stared back at me. Everyone had tried to tell me, but I wouldn’t listen. Joey was no longer the same person I grew up with. I knew now that Joey was gone. I began to shake and I slowly slid to the floor where I began to sob. I stayed in there awhile, crying, mourning the loss of my best friend. I was grateful for the lock on the door but eventually the banging on the door got to me and I reluctantly gave up my sanctuary.

I was ready to leave this party. I started weaving my way for the front door. By the time I got there, I was fighting another bout of nausea. Between the traumatic events upstairs and whatever it was I’d drank out of that bottle my stomach was is full revolt. I barely cleared the front steps before upchucking the last of my stomach’s contents into the shrubbery.

"Being with Joey always affects me that way, too," a feminine voice said from the shadows. I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand as I peered into the darkness. The glow of a cigarette butt drew my eyes to the dark form of someone sitting under the low hanging branches of an enormous magnolia tree that took up most of the front yard.

"Caitlin?" I hazarded a guess.

"Yup. Come on in. It’s quiet and Joey isn’t likely to find us unless he passes out and rolls under here."

I crawled into the cave-like space and leaned back against the tree trunk next to Caitlin. "What are you doing out here in the cold?"

"I had to get out of there. Besides, the fresh air is good for your lungs. Smoke?" she asked as she offered her cigarette.

"No thanks."

"Good. Don’t start. It’s a nasty habit," she stubbed out the butt and looked over at me, "So, are you really gay?"

I drew in a sharp breath. "Yeah."

"Hey, it’s cool with me. It just figures that the first nice guy I meet in months would be gay. You don’t have a thing for Joey, do you?"

"I used to."

"But not now?"

"No, not now."

"Not after tonight?"

"Right."

"I tried to warn you."

"Some things you just have to see for yourself."

She continued to stare at my face as if she were memorizing my features. "I’m sorry," she said softly.

"For what?"

"For your loss."

"What do you mean?"

"You lost a friend tonight, right?"

"Yeah, I guess I did," I said and suddenly there were tears rolling down my cheeks again. I swiped at them angrily.

"Don’t," Caitlin said, "Don’t be ashamed to cry. He made me cry too."

"You? What did he do to you?"

She looked away. "I was one of those dumb girls who fell for all his lies and promises."

"I’m sorry. But hey, at least you can move on now and forget about him. That’s what I have to try and do now I guess."

"It’s not that easy. You have all those memories of him and I have my own little reminder."

"What do you mean?"

She lit up another cigarette and took a long drag. "I’m the girl he got pregnant," she said, still not looking at me.

For a minute, I was too stunned to think of anything to say, then I said the first thing that came to my mind, "You shouldn’t be smoking."

She laughed, but there was no humor in the laugh, "Why not? I’m going to have an abortion."

Neither of us spoke for a while.

"You don’t think I should, do you?" she said at last.

"I didn’t say that," I said quickly.

"No, but you’re thinking it, I can tell." I stayed quiet. "You don’t know what you’re talking about," she went on as if I was arguing with her. Maybe she was arguing with herself. "I can’t afford to raise a kid on my own. I can’t even afford a damn goldfish. I just started school. Oh my God, if my parents found out…"

"It’s not the baby’s fault," I said softly.

She stared at the cigarette for a minute then in a quick violent motion, ground it out angrily. Then, just as suddenly, her mood switched again and she began to cry.

"I don’t know what to do," she whispered, "I can’t believe I was so stupid. I’m so scared."

I sat in uncomfortable silence unsure of what to say. Then an idea popped into my head. I blurted it out before I even thought about it. "I…I’ll help you raise the baby."

She stopped crying with a hiccup and stared at me as if I had lost my mind. Maybe I had.

"Are you crazy? You can’t be serious?" she said when she’d found her voice.

"Yes…I mean no…I mean…"

"Do you have any idea what you are even saying?"

"Yes, I can help you. I’m an artist so I can watch the baby while you’re at school. I don’t have a lot of money but you can get help from social services and I’ll help with what I can."

"You don’t even know me."

"No, but I usually have good instincts about people and I trust you. Besides, I know Joey and this is his baby too. If he isn’t going to take care of it then someone has to."

"Why you?"

"I’ve been cleaning up Joey’s messes for 18 years, I’m used to it. And…I guess I just feel kind of responsible in a way."

"How could you possibly be responsible?"

"It’s kinda my fault Joey has become like this. I drove him to it…I…I told him I loved him."

"And?"

"And what?"

"You told him you loved him and…?"

"And he freaked out."

"Look, Will, you’re an incredibly sweet, incredibly naïve kid. I’ve never met anyone like you in my entire life. I hope you find happiness and the man of your dreams. But this isn’t your fault and you don’t owe me anything. It’s not your fault that Joey reacted like he did. There was no way you could have known and nothing you could have done differently. Thank you for your offer, but this is my problem and I’ll deal with it. I was the one who was stupid enough to fall for his load of shit. I was the one who didn’t insist he use a condom. Me. So that makes me responsible for this…" she gestured helplessly at her still flat stomach. "Me and Joey. And I don’t think I can count on him for anything."

"But you can count on me. That’s what I’m trying to tell you. Joey was like a brother to me. So that makes me this baby’s uncle, sort of, right?"

"I guess…"

"Then let Uncle Will help."

She laughed, this time a real laugh. It was a nice laugh. "I’ll give you this, Uncle Will, you’re persistent."

I grinned, "Yup."

"Will you stop bugging me if I promise to at least think about it?"

"If you promise you’ll really think about it."

"I promise. It’s all I can think about anyway."

"Great! Let me give you my phone number and stuff."

"I’m not promising to do anything but think about it," she warned.

"I know."

"And I still think you’re crazy,"

"I know."

I crawled out from under the tree and scribbled my name and phone number on a scrap of paper I found in my pocket.

"I still think you’re out of your mind," she said as I handed it to her and I was preparing to leave, "but you’ve given me something to think about. I’m still not promising you anything, though. I don’t owe you anything."