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First
Date
Alex huddled on a stone
bench outside of the closed library, practically vibrating out of his
skin while he waited for the bus. Maybe one would come before he froze.
At the moment a frigid walk of shame all the way across the tundra this
place called a campus was more than his manhood could handle.
He'd dressed the night before in shiny jeans, a body-hugging shirt, and
quilted vest. The shirt was silk and the vest was down to help block the
cold, but mostly he'd dressed for looks. He pulled his skull cap down
over his ears crossed his arms over his chest. He'd gotten some vomit on
his sleeve from throwing up in the bushes and there was spooge on the
vest because it had fallen to close too that cadet guy's bed the night
before. Classy, Alex. So classy.
He grumbled. Shit was gonna have to be dry-cleaned, as if Alex had that
kind of cash.
It was always the same: What started in a rush, some off-campus party,
going back to someone's room, had ended in too many drinks and "You
gotta leave, my roommate will be back soon and I have to get up stupid
early."
Shouldn't have been a big deal. No strings and no emotions was supposed
to be how guys were wired. Alex hadn't yet managed to harden himself up
to not getting attached after sex. Maybe that came with age and wisdom.
This guy he'd just been with? No, Alex hadn't been into him really. But
the rejection stung even more than the pain in his ass, which was
considerable. For party boy's sake Alex hoped the dude learned to be
more considerate in bed.
"Alex?"
Alex squinted into the rising sun. Gary Newton, from behind him in
English. They'd traded notes a few times. Run into each other at the
local gay club, Prospects, where Alex deejayed on occasion. Alex died a
little inside, seeing Gary now, outside of Prospects and outside of
class. They actually were sort-of friends and English class was one of
the few places Alex excelled. Math could take a hike, but he could do
music, and he could write. Most days on campus he was just another guy
lost in a sea of faces, but Saturday night at Prospects Alex spiked his
hair and showed off the ink on his bicep and spun everything from epic
trance to old school disco. At Prospects, Alex was someone special.
"Gary. Hi." Right now, Alex was sitting by the curb like a piece of
trash waiting for the bus because his ass and his pride hurt too much to
walk home.
"You all right?" Gary was one of those guys you just knew played
basketball. Six foot seven, with lotsa legs and lean muscles. He lived
in the dorm next to Alex's with the built-in gym and the really good
cafeteria. Full scholarship. Guys like that, you had to figure it was
some sort of sin to not take up the sport.
"Sure. Fine." Looking up at the guy took so much effort Alex thought he
might fall over backward. Finally, he decided to stand. "Waiting for a
bus."
"To where?" Gary, dressed in warm-ups and a sweatshirt, breathing hard
like he'd been jogging, looked at his watch. "Bus isn't gonna be by for
a long time, you know it's wicked early, right? Where you headed?"
"Just back to the dorm."
Gary pulled a face. "Buddy, you'll freeze sitting here. What're you
hung-over or something? You need a greasy breakfast." He pulled out his
student ID. "C'mon. My treat."
Greasy breakfast sounded disgusting but hanging out with Gary sounded
nice after the night he'd had, so Alex held his tongue.
They ambled at a pace Alex could handle. When another brisk wind blew,
Alex shivered and Gary pulled off his sweatshirt, handing it over.
Striated biceps and triceps popped out from the sleeves of the T-shirt
underneath. "Here."
"I'm fine. Thanks though."
"You look cold." He pushed the shirt into Alex's hand. The fabric was
warm and soft, heated from Gary's skin. "I was just out for a run. I'm
plenty warm. Put it on."
Alex started to argue more but he honestly was cold. "Thanks," he said.
He slid on the warm sweatshirt, catching the faint scents of sweat and
spicy deodorant. Nice.
"So. Rough night?"
Alex groaned and rubbed his hands over his face. "Started off okay. Just
a bad decision. Or a series of bad decisions." |