Jared called from the Super Wal-Mart midday on Saturday. "How do I get to your house?" he asked, after he said where he was. "It would probably be easier for one of us to go get you," I said. "I'll ask one of the guys to go. Stand next to the entrance so they'll see you." "Okay," he said. "I need to use the restroom, though." "Go ahead. It'll take about ten minutes or so for them to get there," I said. "Okay," he said, and we hung up. Tim and Brian were in the den, reading. I asked them to go get Jared, and they did. They got back in about twenty minutes. Jared was all grins when he got there. The rest of them were in the house for lunch, so he got to meet the four younger guys, too. "How long did it take you?" Kyle asked. "About fourteen hours," he said. "I drove ten hours yesterday and four this morning." "Wow. You must be tired," Rick said. "Naw. I'm in good shape. It feels good to be here," he said. "Are you going to stay with us the whole time?" I asked. "If that's okay," he said. "I could stay with a guy I know from school and some of his friends, but I don't really know them very well. It would be eight in a two-bedroom condo, and they're all straight, I think. Maybe one isn't, but he's not a friend of mine." "Of course it's okay. We'd love to have you," I said. "Thanks," he said. "Do you guys know anything about that job fair?" "Just that there is one," Kyle said. "They have it every year." "That's the main reason I came here. I have a couple of job interviews lined up with CCA," he said. "What is CCA?" Justin asked. "Corrections Corporation of America," Jared said. "It's the largest private corrections company in the world. In fact, they run the sixth-largest corrections program in the country. I did my internships with them." "Corrections? Like jail?" Jus asked. "Yeah. Unfortunately, it's a growth industry. I worked for them for two semesters as a student intern and for one summer as a regular employee. I loved it," he said. "I got my certification as a correctional officer when I was doing my first internship, and I'm going to get my degree in May. My master's, actually. I already have a bachelor's degree." "Cool. Kyle, that's what me and you ought to do. It's like running a hotel, only there's no sales and no marketing," Justin said. "I know. Is that company around here anywhere?" Kyle asked. "Yeah. As a matter of fact, they have three facilities in this county. If I'm not mistaken, this was the first place they opened a facility. Or one of the first, anyway," Jared said. "For real? You mean they just came here and opened a jail? How can they do that?" Kyle asked. "They didn't open a jail. They won the contract to run the county jail. It was so successful that they added a free-standing facility, sort of like a work camp, and then the county built a jail annex, and they run that, too," Jared said. "Nationwide, they have 55,000 beds in sixty facilities." "Wow! That's huge," I said. "Did you talk to them about working for the company when you were an intern?" "Yeah, and they even offered me a job. My parents had paid for four years of college through the Virginia Prepaid Education Program, or VPEP. I did my undergraduate internship in the spring semester a couple of years ago, took graduate courses that summer, and then did my graduate internship the next fall. Then it was second semester classes, summer work for CCA, fall classes, and now I'm finishing up my thesis. It's pretty much done, in fact. My committee has it now. All I have left is the defense," Jared said. "Wait a minute now. Explain this," Brian said. He and Tim were all ears. "Okay," he said. "I did go through that pretty fast just now. When I started college, I already had a bunch of credits through something called Advanced Placement and Dual Enrollment. Do you guys know what that is?" "These two are all about both of those things," Kyle said. "Okay. So, I started college summer school right after I graduated from high school. I went that first summer, four regular semesters, and the summer between freshman and sophomore years, and I did my undergraduate internship with CCA in the second semester of my second year. That's when I graduated with my B.S. degree. That summer I started graduate school and took two courses. That fall, I went back to CCA as a graduate intern. Second semester of my third year I took graduate courses on campus. That summer I worked for CCA as a regular employee as a graduate-level management trainee. That was last summer. Fall of this school year I finished my course work and my comprehensive exams for my master's degree, and this semester I've been working on my thesis," Jared said. "That's pretty impressive," Rick said. "What was that you said about a defense?" Tim asked. "The program I'm in offers two options. You can either write a thesis or take extra courses. If you write a thesis, you have to defend it," he said. "The thesis route is for people who think they might like to get a Ph.D. in criminology, with an emphasis in corrections." "What does that mean, though?" Tim asked. "Defend your thesis?" "It's like an oral exam, but it's only on what you said -- or didn't say, that they think you should have said -- in the thesis. I already know that's not going to be a problem," he said. "Would you like to work here?" Kyle asked. "Yeah, I would. Very much, in fact," Jared said. "That's why I came here for Spring Break. That, and a chance to maybe see Sean. That was before he got killed, though. There's an opening for a recreation supervisor at the county correctional facility, and they're expecting an opening for an education supervisor there by July 1st. Some guy's retiring. I'm interested in both of those, or either, I should say." "That sounds cool," Kyle said. "Are you qualified?" "I'm well qualified for the recreation job. I'm only technically qualified for the education job, though. Those jobs usually go to former educators, like former school principals, or to people who have experience in prison educational programs. I had a couple of courses in corrections education, though, so maybe," he said. "What about being gay?" Kyle asked. "What about it? If you didn't know I'm gay, could you tell?" he asked. "No, of course not. I mean, I don't know. I mean, you don't 'act gay,' if that's what you're talking about," Kyle said. He was a little bit flustered. "There are quite a few gay corrections professionals, and it wasn't a problem for me when I worked for CCA before," he said. "I don't think it'll be a problem." "Is the place here co-ed?" Brian asked. "No. Men only," Jared said. "The jail and the jail annex have both men and women, but they don't mix. The work camp is only men, though. They have beds for 750 inmates, and it pretty much stays full." We continued talking for a while. I was surprised that all the boys stayed at the table, even after we had all finished eating lunch. They were very interested in their new brother, and, frankly, he's an interesting guy. And for good reason. He's very intelligent, very engaging, and very nice. There was no sense that he was troubled in any way. He told us he's twenty-two, and he has obviously developed excellent social skills. In a word, he "belonged" with us. He got settled in a room on the third floor, and then he and most of the boys went to the beach. Todd used the afternoon to study and do homework. He has to miss class sometimes when the baseball team has to leave school early for "away" games, and he's often too tired after a game to get much homework done. He needs the weekend time to catch up. Denny and Murray wanted to work on debate, and Denny's boyfriend, John, was coming over that afternoon to work with them. They worked at the dining room table so they could spread all their materials out, so I know they really worked. Denny and John went up to Denny's room after about three hours, "to, uh, do some stuff." They left Murray in the dining room. I went in there with a Diet Coke and a bowl of cut-up fruit for Murray. I stood behind him and massaged his shoulders a little. He purred like a kitten when I did that. I sat down next to him. "Feeling a little bit like a third wheel right now, Bubba?" I asked. "Yeah, kind of. But Denny and John are really nice to me. I know they need to spend some time alone," he said. "I don't mind." "Yeah, they do need to do that," I said. "Do you realize that you and Denny have birthdays in the same week next month?" "Yeah. We were talking about that earlier," he said. "Are you going to be ready to get your license?" I asked. "I'm ready now. I took driver's ed last semester, you know?" "Yes, I do know. You have your permit, right? You had to have that to take the course," I said. "Yes, sir. I have it. We did the road test a bunch of times, so I know I can pass it," he said. "Did you see that car Jared drove here?" "Yeah. It's just like Sean's car," Murray said. "It is Sean's car, only now it belongs to us. Jared's going to fly home and leave the car here. It's going to be for you, Denny, and Pete to use," I said. His eyes got huge. "Really?! Wow! That's a cool car," he said. "Yeah, it is. We're going to have to set up some kind of schedule so you guys won't get into fights over who gets to use it, when, but it's basically going to be for the three of you," I said. "Oh, Kevin. That's too much," he said, and he started to tear up. "Denny and Pete don't know that yet, but you can tell them, if you want to," I said. "Maybe then I can start dating," he said. "I think I'd like to do that." "You'll also be able to go see Nana without depending on Kyle and Justin," I said. His grin looked almost painful, it was so wide. "They love Kyle and Justin, though. Nana and Miss Rose, I mean," he said. "Oh, I know they do, but Kyle and Justin will be leaving here in August, and you won't be. Like it or not, you're sentenced here for at least two more years," I said. "Sentenced? I've never been happier in my life than I've been here, Kev," he said. I smiled. "I know that, Bubba. I was just joking about it being a sentence," I said. "I know. Do you think I could go to the beach and meet up with the others?" he asked. "Sure. Do you know where they are?" I asked. "No," he said, slightly despondent. "Hold on," I said. I dug out my cell phone and punched the speed dial button for Kyle's number. He answered it on the second ring. "Where are you?" "The beach behind the condo. What's wrong?" he asked. "Nothing's wrong. Murray and I want to go to the beach, and we just want to know where y'all are. Have you all got beer out there with you, Kyle? Tell me the truth, now," I said. I said the last part pretty sternly, but I was just teasing. Pause. "Uh, yes, sir," Kyle said. "Do I need to bring some more?" I asked. "Shit, Kevin. You scared me, man. I thought I was in trouble. Yeah, bring a twelve-pack. We've got some thirsty guys here," he said. "Bring some food, too." "Okay, master," I said. We left a note on the table for Denny and John, and Murray and I took off. I flipped him my car keys, and he missed the catch. He and I both laughed. "Do you know where Publix is on the Parkway?" I asked him. "I ought to. I've been there enough times with Kyle," he said. "Go," I said. He grinned the entire way there. I got a dozen submarine sandwiches of various descriptions, and I had them cut them into quarters. We got beer, chips, a bottle of sunscreen, in case they didn't have any, and two six-packs of cokes. After a moment's hesitation, I also threw twelve bottles of cold water into the cart. I tossed three bags of miniature Snickers candy into it, too. "Can you think of anything else?" I asked Murray. "Can we get some fruit? Maybe some grapes and some cherries? And some figs?" he asked. "Sure. I'm sorry, Bubba. I don't think of you as overweight or dieting anymore," I said. "I'm not overweight, and I want to stay this way. Have you and Rick actually looked at my body?" he said. "Murray, that wouldn't be appropriate, Son. I thought you knew that," I said. "Not that way. To see the change in me. From when I first came here," he said, and then he convulsed in laughter. "You shit. You had me going, Kevin." I laughed just as hard as he did, and I'm sure the people in that store wondered what was going on. "Yeah, we have looked at you, Murray, and the transformation has been amazing. We're very, very proud of you because we know what kind of work and self-discipline it took," I said. "When I first got here, I was embarrassed to go swimming in the pool. Not because we swim naked, although that wasn't all that easy at first. I was embarrassed because I was fat and didn't have any muscles. Now I can't wait for us to start swimming again," he said. "We might just want to start that tonight. We had the pool cleaned this week, so it's ready for us," I said. "Oh, goody," he said, and we laughed. He beamed. We got to the beach where the other boys were, and it was magnificent. The water was emerald green, as it always is in the spring and the fall, before and after the summer tourist raid. The sun was medium warm, but it wasn't yet blazing hot like it would be during the summer. March is a paradise month, and we were in paradise. There weren't any bugs, either. The kids devoured the sandwiches and other food I had brought. Kyle and Justin both swallowed down two bottles of water each, and then they each got a beer. It turns out, they had brought one six-pack of beer for the day, and two bottles of water. They were in danger of becoming dehydrated, almost. I had noticed there were yellow flags flying up and down the beach, which meant, "Caution; swim at your own risk." But there was a southeast wind, which meant the surf was perfect. A bunch of boys were out there surfing, and Kyle went out, too. He has been doing that all his life, and he surfs beautifully. "Call Rick and get him out here," Kyle said to me. He was half panting from the exertion. "Okay," I said. I called Rick "What are you doing?" I asked him. "I'm at the office, and I'm in the middle of a very hairy spreadsheet. Do you know how to make Excel print vertically?" I explained about format/cells and moving the pointer to vertical. "Wow," he said. "The boys and I are all on the beach. The surf is really up," I said. "You need to be here with your family." "Okay," he said. "I'm there." "Wait. Go by the house and pick up Todd, Denny, and John. Bring them to the beach with you," I said. "John? Do we have one named John?" he asked. "John is Denny's boyfriend. Bring them down here. We're behind Kyle's condo. Hurry," I said. "Okay. I'm out," he said, and then he hung up. It was pretty much a perfect afternoon on the beach. Kyle and Rick surfed, and they both let the other boys try out their boards, too, if they wanted to. Rick had picked up his favorite board and a couple of other boards at the house, too. Our guest, Jared, tried surfing three or four times, but he never seemed to get the hang of it. Justin did well, but he had surfed before. Tim and Brian showed no interest in surfing, even though Tim had surfed before. Denny, John, Murray, and Pete weren't interested, either, although they played in the surf at the shoreline. Todd tried it and did well. He's a natural athlete, though, like Kyle, Justin, and Rick, so it wasn't surprising. "That board just wants to take out from under your feet, doesn't it?" Todd said. "Yeah, but you did damn good, Bubba. That was your first time, right?" Kyle asked. "Yeah. Thanks," Todd said. "We'll get out here some more. Don't worry about that," Kyle said. "It's the wax that keeps the board under your feet. Do you know what 'waxing down your surfboard' means? In that song by the Beach Boys?" "I thought you waxed the underside so it would slide over the water easier," Todd said. "That's what most people think, but you wax the side you stand on with thick, gooey wax so you don't slip off. You're barefoot, but I wear these surf boots. They give me even better traction on the board. Todd, you're a hell of an athlete. You're going to be able to do this like nobody's business with a little practice. We need to get you some equipment. I prefer a long board myself, so I can catch smaller waves, and that's what Rick uses, too. You don't go as fast as you do on a short board, though, so it all depends on what you like. Rick brought out a short board you can try, too, though. "We're going to have us a fine spring and summer. If we're lucky, we'll have a few tropical storms come through here. That's when the surfing is best. The hurricanes are too rough, except when they're way out. When they get too close, the surf breaks up, and you can't catch a wave because they're coming in all directions at once. Tropicals do the same thing, too, when they get close in. The waves are usually bigger in a hurricane, but they're useless for surfing. Let's go back out and catch us a few, okay, Bubba?" Kyle said. "Okay," Todd said. "What size shoe do you wear?" Kyle asked him. "Sixteen," Todd said. "Shit. That's too big. I was gonna let you wear my boots, but that's too big. I only wear a thirteen. Those big feet would bust 'em up. Do you know what 'hang ten' means?" Kyle asked. "No," Todd said. "That means hanging my ten toes over the front edge of the board while I'm riding a wave. It's hard to do, and I can't do it every time I try. You get flipped off the board sometimes. I've been smacked in the back of the head a few times, too, doing it. When you feel the board coming up behind you, jump to the right so it won't hit you. Make sure you got the cord on your ankle, though, so you don't lose your board. Let's go," Kyle said. "Dang," Todd said when he got out of the water for the day. "That was great, Kyle. Thank you." "Don't mention it, but I think you're a natural, Todd," Kyle said. "You might want to think about getting your own board." "How much do they cost?" Todd asked. "Oh, you can get a real nice one for about $800," Kyle said. "That's about how much this one cost. Rick's long board was probably a thousand, but the short boards are cheaper. Like, maybe, $300 to $350. That's new, of course. You can also get used ones that have been reconditioned for less money than that." My God! I thought. We have a fortune in surfboards in our garage. I had no idea those things are that expensive. "Cool," Todd said. "If you want to, I know a couple of places where they make boards. It's pretty cool to see how they do it," Kyle said. "The guys who work there can custom make you one that's perfect for your size. That's the best thing to do." "I'll have to ask my mom about getting one," Todd said. "Todd, before you invest that kind of money, I suggest you use the ones we already have to make sure you're committed to the sport. Eight hundred dollars is a lot of money for a single piece of sports equipment," I said. "Good equipment doesn't come cheap," Kyle said. "Did you ever ask Rick how much his bike cost?" "What about my bike?" Rick asked, as he caught up with us. "How much did your bike cost?" Kyle asked. "That's kind of personal, don't you think?" Rick said. "You don't want Kevin to know, do you?" Kyle said. "No, that's not it," Rick said. He was being so cute. He didn't want me to know, and it was fun watching him squirm. "What's the matter, Rick? Afraid your daddy will get pissed off?" Kyle asked, teasing Rick some more. "Okay. It was forty-one hundred, or so," he said. I was stunned. Over four thousand dollars for a bicycle?! My God! I kept my cool, though. "I knew that," I said. "You did?" Rick asked, surprised. "Not the exact amount, but I knew it was expensive. Even so, Todd, I still think you should become a more avid surfer before you buy a board," I said. "You should get a custom one," Rick said to Todd. "They're the best. But he's right. Use the ones we have all you want to, Bubba. Then get one made." * * * That weekend was Palm Sunday, and it was the last of the Scrutinies for Jus and the others being accepted into the Catholic Church this year at Easter. Ordinarily, we would have gone to Mass on Saturday afternoon at five, and then out to eat as a family. For the weeks during Lent, Jus and I had been going to Mass on Sunday at eleven for the Scrutinies, and that week the whole family was going on Sunday to be with their brother for the final Scrutiny. What a term for those prayers! Leave it to the Catholic Church, I thought. Saturday night, though, we had the first pool party of the year. Kyle, and whoever was in his car, swung by Publix and bought stuff for dinner. We called the Spencer guys next door, and they could come over. Todd, Pete, and Jared -- the three new guys and the wild cards in the nude swimming game -- didn't appear to be the least bit intimidated or inhibited by swimming with us, and we had a great time. We called the Townhouse Boys on the way home from the beach, and they came over, too. Ken Balch and Dan Rutland came over, too, and they seemed to have a really good time. They brought a bottle of single-malt Scotch, and I appreciated that. Andy Callaway didn't want to come over at first, but we insisted, and he did. Andy is still mourning Trey, but I think he had a good time. I said grace that night. "Heavenly Father, You give life, and then You bring that life home to You. Tonight we mourn our brothers, Trey Hudson and Sean Kelly, whom You have recently called to Yourself. Their passing has diminished this family enormously, but, nevertheless, we thank You for their lives. Tonight, Lord, we celebrate three new brothers who have joined us: Todd Griffin, Pete Hendricks, and Jared Long. May we share Your grace with them, as much as Trey and Sean shared Your grace with us. Thank You for the men who touch our lives. And bless us, oh Lord, and these Your gifts, which we are about to receive from Your bounty, through Christ, our Lord," "Amen," we all said in unison. There were wet eyes everywhere. They all knew. We're a big family, and we're getting bigger by the day, it seems. Every man there is "a perversion and an abomination before the Lord" in the minds of some because God chose to make us homosexuals. But in our minds, and in the minds of our parents, our families, and our friends, we are a pretty damn good bunch of guys. After we had eaten and had started the pool, ping pong, basketball, swimming, and movie-watching, Jared came up to me with tears streaming down his face. "Kevin, I've read Jeff's blog, so I knew you guys were extraordinary. But I never dreamed it would be this good. I never dreamed there would be a place where men could be so open and so free to be who they are. Where guys would be so accepting. Thank you so much for letting me stay here," he said. "Did you listen to the prayer tonight? Three new brothers: Todd, Pete, and Jared?" I asked. "Did you really mean that?" he asked. "I wouldn't have said it, if I hadn't meant it," I said. "Thank you," he said. * * * My first impression of Jared -- that he was a thoroughly nice and likeable guy -- held true the whole time he was with us. He had several interviews that week with top management people from CCA and the local jails, and he landed that job as recreation supervisor at the county correctional facility. It pays reasonably well, and the benefits are decent. We would have topped them in both areas, but that's the kind of work he wants to do. Jared is a class act, for sure, and I made sure he knew I know it. I also made sure he knows he has a job with Goodson Enterprises any time he wants one. I know CCA is a good company. In fact, it's probably the best in the world for what they do. What they do is basically shit, though. Unless I'm wrong, sooner or later Jared will get tired of butting his head against the wall of guys who are going nowhere except to state or federal prison when they get out of his place, and he'll come to us. I hope so, anyway. The next Sunday was Easter, and Justin was going to become a Catholic the evening before at the Easter Vigil. "Are you sure you're ready for this, Jus?" I asked him. "I think so, Kevin. I think I'm as ready as I'm ever going to be. Jerry told us he thinks the essence of our relationship with God is thanksgiving and gratitude. He said the word 'Eucharist' means 'thanksgiving.' I don't get that from what they say at Mass, but I guess that's it. We celebrate the Lord's Supper to show our gratitude and thanks for Him dying for us in that horrible way He did. We practice the virtues so we can show gratitude to God, too. Really, the only virtue he talked about was charity, or love. Like the poor and the afflicted. Like gay kids who don't have anyplace to go 'cause their grandma can't take care of them anymore or their mom goes to jail. Like boys in shackles in motel rooms. Like kids with Cerebral Palsy. Like kids who can't get along with their parents. Like kids whose only parent has to go to war to fix teeth." Tears were coursing down his cheeks and mine. "Justin, stop!" I said. "Why? Too close to home, Kevin? How about taking in a guy dying of AIDS? Taking in runaways, like Alex and Sean? Taking in a guy whose partner died of some mysterious thing in Gainesville? Taking in a guy whose house burned down and whose mom died on the way to the fire? Huh?" "Why are you saying all of this?" I asked. He paused for a long time and lit up a smoke. "A while back, you or somebody, but I think it was you, asked me why I want to be a Catholic. I said because the best people I know are," he said. "And that still stands." "Well, in terms of helping others, you won't find better people than Gene and Rita Goodson," I said. "And they're Presbyterians." He was quiet for a long time. I knew he was thinking. "I know you're right, Kevin, but I ain't going through this again for anybody else. I know the Methodists, the Baptists, the Episcopalians, the Lutherans--all of 'em--do good shit, too. But two things. I ain't a part of their family, and I ain't committed to nobody but a Catholic," he said. "So doctrine doesn't mean as much to you as the people do?" I asked. "I don't even know what that word means, Kevin. I seriously do want to be a Catholic because the best people I have ever known in my whole life are Catholic. And I want to be like them," Jus said. "Rick and I didn't take you all in because we're Catholic," I said. "In fact, that's not really something we're very much aware of." "I know that, Kevin. But you and Rick are Catholic. You asked me if I'm sure I'm ready to become a Catholic, so I told you," he said "You want to go swimming with your brothers, don't you?" I asked. "Yeah, I do," he said. "But I'm enjoying talking with you, too." "Go ahead, Bubba. Go on out. I'll be out in a little while. I've got some thinking to do," I said. "Okay," Justin said. "See you out there."
When I went to college, I didn't want to hide the fact that I'm gay. I told my roommate the first day we were together in our dorm room, and his reaction was, "I can't help you out there, but I'll introduce you to a good friend of mine. He's gay, too, only he's at Virginia Tech." That's the typical attitude I encountered at UVA. Nobody cares. Couples -- gay, lesbian, and straight -- walk across campus holding hands, and nobody really gives it a second thought. I didn't do that because I didn't have anybody to do that with, but I would have, if I had. My social life in college was fairly low key, I suppose. My roommate and I became best friends, and we made lots of other friends among the people on our floor of the dorm. We were both pretty serious about our school work, and, while we'd go to an occasional frat party or similar social event, we certainly didn't drift through college in an alcoholic fog the way some people do. John Armstrong, my roommate, and I were part of a group of, maybe, a dozen people, maybe fifteen, that was about equally divided between men and women, and throughout freshman year we sort of ran as a pack. They all knew I'm gay, as are another guy and one of the girls, but that was never an issue. Nobody really dated seriously, and more often than not our entertainment consisted of going out for pizza, hanging out at a mall, going to football games, going to plays or concerts on campus, or playing board games in the lounge in the dorm. Sophomore year was pretty much of a repeat of freshman year, at least first semester was, and then I had to leave campus for my internship that spring. I had a few "dates" with guys, but I was much too focused on my work for that to lead to anything more than just two boys "doing something together." I actually saw one guy several times, and we ended up kissing goodnight after the third date. That was a week before the end of the fall semester, and I never saw him again after that. My third year of college started with my second internship, and after that I was too wrapped up in my course work to really find much time to play. I still had most of the friends I had made during the first two years, and we still got together occasionally, but there was no romance, and certainly no sex, in my life. I met Sean Kelly at a coffee shop where I worked part time. He was a good-looking kid, and I honestly thought he was a college student. We would talk and sometimes even play chess, and I liked him. He asked me if I were gay, and I didn't lie. He said he was, too. "We'll have to get together sometime," I said. "Would you do that?" he asked. "Sure. In fact, let's catch a movie tonight. I get off in thirty minutes. We can grab something at Subway and then go to the movie," I said. "Cool." He didn't have a car, but that wasn't at all unusual on that campus. Parking was severely limited, and I rarely used my car on campus, or to get to work, for that matter. Our first date was fun. He wanted to see my apartment, but I knew that John, who had hung in as my roommate all that time, had a date. I wasn't sure what his plans were, so I didn't think that was a good idea. Eventually, over the month or so that Sean and I dated, we went to my apartment a few times to watch movies when I knew John would be out. Sean and I made out a little, and one time he actually had an orgasm. It was my fault, and it was something I hadn't intended. In the throes of a kiss, I put my hand on Sean's thigh without realizing what I was doing, and that was all it took for him to pop off. When I realized what had happened, I apologized profusely, but he said he enjoyed it. He wanted to get more physical at that point. He suggested we get in bed with our clothes off, but I was definitely not ready for that. The worst mistake I ever made was letting my roommate talk me into going with him to a club on the Fourth of July. John had suggested it while Sean was at our apartment, and Sean pleaded with me to take him. It never crossed my mind that Sean was only fifteen. In fact, the door attendant didn't even ask him for ID. Oh, but the cops did. It wasn't a raid the way that I had imagined police raids take place. A couple of officers came in and asked to see ID. There weren't any whistles or flying night sticks or anything of that sort. They simply politely asked to see a driver's license from the people they had questions about. When Sean was asked for his, he couldn't produce one, so they took him out to the squad car. I asked the second cop if he were being arrested. He said they were going to take him down to the police station and call his parents to come get him. He wasn't going to be arrested. That put a damper on the evening, but it was already pretty late. John and I went back to our apartment for the night. Two days later, I received a restraining order telling me not to go within 100 feet of Sean. It was all very formal and official, but it was also fine with me. I liked Sean, but I certainly didn't like him enough to risk getting into trouble for seeing him. That would have ruined my life, as I envisioned it in the corrections field. He came into the coffee shop a few more times after that, but I made it a point to get busy in the back when he did and to let somebody else wait on him. I had a university email account, and he emailed me a few times that summer. He said that he was not at all happy at home and that his parents ignored him. He talked vaguely about "escaping" from home, but he also talked about movies he had seen and a "hot boy" he had met, but not dated yet. We wrote back and forth about once a week, and I wondered if I was violating the restraining order by doing that. I figured it would have said "have no contact" with him, if email and phone calls were off limits, so I didn't worry. The next thing I knew, I got an email saying that he was living in Florida in a gay foster home. He gave me the details of his "escape," and he recommended I read Jeff Martin's blog. I did, and I was pleased to see that Sean was in such a wholesome and safe place. I was very busy that semester. I was still working part time, I was taking twelve hours of graduate credit, and I was studying for comps. Frankly, from around mid-November I didn't have time to fool around with Sean, and I didn't even open his emails. When the semester was over and my comps were behind me, I read all the ones I had been saving. It sounded like he was happier than he had ever been. I wrote back to him then, but maybe he was pissed off at me for not having answered his letters earlier. Whatever the reason, that pretty much ended my contact with Sean. Since I was going to Emerald Beach, Florida, for some job interviews and for Spring Break anyway, I figured I'd look him up. Then the news of his murder broke in the local media. The stories said he had been murdered in New Mexico, and I wondered what he was doing there. They identified him as the son of Dean Frederick Kelly and Dr. Barbara Kelly, two prominent university figures. I read the obituary in the newspaper, and I took a chance by going to the funeral home the night of the wake. I made John go with me for moral support. I managed to introduce myself to Dr. Kelly and told her who I was. She thanked me for coming and pointed out the guys from Emerald Beach when I asked about them. "Do you know where they're staying?" I asked her. "The Sheraton, I think," she said. "Thank you," I said, "and, again, my deepest condolences." I moved on, but I made up my mind to visit those guys. "Jared, this is depressing the shit out of me," my roommate said. "Yeah, John. Let's get out of here," I said. "Were you in love with him?" John asked in the car. "Naw. If he and I had stayed connected, it might have happened. But we didn't, and it didn't," I said. "I wish you'd find somebody, man. Hell, I wish I'd find somebody," John said. "I thought you and Allison had something," I said. "Yeah, we did. We had sex. That was it," he said. "She was your first, right?" I asked. "Third," he said. "What?!! You didn't tell me that," I said. "I don't tell you everything," John said, grinning. "Since when?" I asked. "All right. Confession time. Once in high school on the night of prom, and once freshman year during Spring Break. Then Allison," John said. "So, it's your turn. How many guys have you had sex with?" "How many have I told you about?" I asked. "None," he said. "Well, that's the answer," I said. "Have you ever thought about having sex with me?" he asked, after a long pause. "John, . . . " I started to say something, but he cut me off. "I know you have, Jared, and I've thought about having sex with you, too," he said. "I know you love me, and I know that you know I love you. It could happen." "Pull over," I said. "We can't do it here, asshole," he said, and we both cracked up. He did as I asked, though. "John, you're right. I do love you. We've been brothers and soulmates for four years. But I don't think about you that way. I hope this doesn't destroy your ego, buddy, but you're too fucking straight for me. I expect we'll be best friends for the rest of our lives, but you're straight and I'm gay. And I don't want you crossing that line just to please me," I said. All of a sudden, he burst out crying. I had only seen him cry tears of joy over a UVA football game, but these tears were different. "Why are you crying?" I asked. "Because you really do love me, and you just proved it. Jared, I'd do it, if you wanted to. I'd do anything for you. I feel responsible for the whole thing with Sean. I made you go with me to that club that night. That's why he got busted and you guys had to break up. I feel so guilty. I let you down," he said. I really do love John, but I want him as a best friend, not a lover. Knowing what I know about Sean, I know his death was the result of some kind of sexual assignation gone awry. "You can't feel guilty about that, John. It had nothing to do with you or with me," I said. "Let's go eat. And, yes, I really do love you." |