I accidentally left off the disclaimers in the second part - but you know the drill. If you're reading this and it's not legal for you to do so, or you don't want to, then by all means close your browser window.
Dear readers: I trust that you are, hopefully, still with this story. It's not your usual college romance, obviously - however, there are elements of life, and death, metaphorically, taking place in the story. Ah, but it isn't my place to do the interpretation for you. Please read on...
The Dance of Death - Part 3 ===========================
As the bus made the final leg of the journey up the hill to Simon Fraser University, I reflected on the last couple of weeks. I had definitely made progress in recovery from that horrible night. I still occasionally succumbed to crying jags, but the last couple of days had been good. After that night when I needed Jonathan to hold me before I would sleep, I only needed him to hold me for about a week afterwards, and then I began sleeping on the couch, and not minding it too badly.
Later in August, we had decided to relocate to a two-bedroom apartment that had become available in the same building, and I acquired a futon at a store, against the day when I would be able to buy a real bed. Since I had few possessions, moving was simply a matter of picking up all of Jonathan's stuff and carting it down one floor. That had still taken us a whole day.
I got off the bus and made my way to the cafeteria, after noting that I had about fifteen minutes to kill before my first organic chemistry lab of the semester. I bought a hot chocolate, and savored the warmth it brought me. As I walked out of the cafeteria, I noticed the poster board which had the usual run of used textbooks and cars for sale as well as Student Society announcements. At the bottom was a small poster which said "OUT ON CAMPUS - First meeting Tuesday at 4:30 PM!" with the room location and obligatory pink triangle at the bottom. I made a mental note to go, and then proceeded to the organic lab.
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I sat down for lunch, my brain whirling with the deluge of lab safety procedures, basic precautions in handling common organic solvents, the standard format for lab reports, and so on. I felt reasonably confident that I wouldn't lose my nerve and fail out in this semester. Academically, I guess I was set.
I picked at my lunch, and I reflected that the same "problem" I'd experienced with Jonathan, being mentally attracted to a guy but experiencing no corresponding physical response, was recurring. I'd look at a cute guy and... nothing. I would know he was cute, mentally, but there would no physical reaction whatsoever. I worried that if I did someday meet a guy who wouldn't ever lay a hand on me in anger and who I felt was trustworthy and special enough to let into my life, I'd lose him to a guy who could get it up. Life sucked sometimes.
After having stood in line for well over 45 minutes, and finally getting into the bookstore so I could buy textbooks, selecting books, and enduring another half hour wait to bring them to the cashier, I was dead on my feet. I staggered out of the bookstore, and had already made the decision to go to the bus stop and go back to the apartment when I realized I wanted to be at the "Out on Campus" meeting. So off I staggered to the designated room, only to arrive and curse when I realized I'd gotten there about half an hour early. I sat down anyway and pored over the textbooks to get an idea of what the professors in my courses would expect this semester.
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It was nearing 5 pm, and the "Out on Campus" meeting was mostly filled with introductions, a quick summary of the formation of the group, and discussion of some events the group leaders would be hosting, or participating in. "Club Day", for example, was to happen next week, where all the different student clubs would set up tables in one area, and flog their pamphlets.
The head of the group, a guy named Robert who was perky with a ready smile, was winding down. "So if there are no more questions, shall we all meet here again next Tuesday?" A murmur of assent went around the room. "See you all later, then!"
I didn't see any reason to stick around, but I noted with amusement that two fairly cute guys who happened to be sitting next to each other a couple of seats down from me gave each other looks that suggested a new relationship was forming, or at least a one-night stand. I headed to the bus stop, and dug in my pocket for change...
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The days flew by, filled with appropriately professorial lectures about thermodynamics, organic molecules, electromagnetism, and general chemistry. Equally appropriate was the presumption that for each professor, the only class that mattered was his or her class. The homework thus assigned reflected this.
By Friday, I could have sworn I had already been assigned enough homework to keep a legion of high school students sweating for the next decade. So much for having a social life. Though, frankly, it gave me the excuse I needed to not have one, anyway. What was the point of going out if the guy you met might brush you off if all he wanted was a one-night stand and you weren't interested in such shallow encounters?
On Sunday night, Jonathan looked over at me, where I was putting the final equations down for the question set I had to finish in electromagnetism. I was so engrossed in making sure I hadn't punched a number wrong on the calculator that he had to speak twice before I heard him.
"Hey, Daniel, yoo hoo!" Jonathan was sitting opposite me at the table.
"Oh, uh, yeah?"
"You know you've been sitting there for three hours today? And you sat at that table for four hours yesterday, too! I was starting to think you'd feel more at home with a few cobwebs." He grinned.
I saucily replied, "Oh, I'm old and creaky, am I?"
"Fine, Monsieur le Chef will not make dinner for you tonight, then."
"Fine then, Mr. Snooty. I'll just eat cold Ravioli." I gave him a mock-injured look and he busted up laughing.
"Seriously, I know you've been eating well, but the last few days you've been slipping. You only ate the rice from the sushi dinner I made last night - I had to finish all the sushi rolls myself. And Friday night, I think you just had the chicken bouillon I made and that was it - no breakfast or lunch. Is something bothering you?"
I sighed. "Part of it's this homework - it's getting me down. But I'm also trying not to think about other things too much and I'm not being all that successful."
Concern showed as Jonathan leaned forward to gaze at me. "Do you want to elaborate?"
"Well, I should tell you something I haven't said before because I didn't want to make you worry even more. I'm... I'm just not really interested in guys right now, and I don't really want to get involved with one. That's bothering me, because on the other hand, I miss that kind of companionship."
"I wish I could help you there, but I can't." Was it my imagination, or did Jonathan get a little nervous? Unbidden, a thought rose to my mind that he might have a slight case of closetitis.
"It's good of you to be concerned about me, though. I haven't even said one word to my parents in two months and I'm doubtful they would be that sympathetic. Christmas is going to seriously suck this year." I knew I looked as dejected as I felt.
"Well, there's always here. We could put up a Christmas tree with, dare I say, pink frills."
At that, a smile cracked my face. "Or we could put a rainbow theme on it. Maybe even tubes of lube instead of candycanes, eh?"
That got Jonathan going. He grinned widely and put up his hands in mock-surrender and said, "I know when I've been out-joked and outmaneuvered. Monsieur le Chef will now begin dinner." True to his word, he stood up, and began a sumptuous feast of what turned out to be an excellent steak, mashed potatoes, and vegetables combination.
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The following Tuesday, I was once again seated in the meeting room where "Out on Campus" was situated. I looked around the room and noted a few more arrivals than there had been last time. Perhaps fifteen people altogether showed up this time around.
Robert began the meeting. "Hi, everyone. I hope you all have had a pleasant week, or not, as the case may be, settling into your routines as students--" he broke off suddenly as a blond-haired, blue-eyed beauty in a dark green long-sleeved shirt and snug-fitting jeans burst into the room. He exclaimed, "Sorry I'm late! Did I miss anything?" He looked appealingly at Robert who smiled, shook his head no, and gestured to a free seat... which happened to be to my left.
Robert continued: "Now, as I was about to say, I see that there are some more of you here than last time, which is good. Can we quickly do the round of introductions? I'll only make you guys do this once more next week, then we'll just make the new arrivals introduce themselves." The roll call droned on, and I paid scant attention.
I was startled by the sudden announcement to my left. "Hi. I'm Jeffrey, and I'm a first-year student in political science." Now that I had a chance to see and hear him up close, I did a quick evaluation. Approximately 6 feet tall, with bright blond hair, medium blue eyes, and a wiry frame that left little to the imagination. He had a nice voice, too. You could see intelligence in those eyes, but also a certain naivete. Come to think of it, almost everybody who I saw up close, even Jonathan, had that naivete to a degree. Some more than others.
It was my turn. "Hi. I'm Daniel, and I'm a second-year student in chemistry." And so it went, around the room.
A tap on my shoulder brought me out of my brown study again. It was Jeffrey, sporting an unforced grin, and holding out his hand for me to shake. He said, "Hi." I hesitated almost imperceptibly, and extended my own hand as well as a return greeting. I felt a strange kind of heat emanating from his hand. It was as though there was a mutual exchange of energies when our hands touched. I felt uncertain, and vaguely uneasy; yet I also felt an unconditional acceptance from Jeffrey. I released my grip as quickly as courtesy allowed, and smiled briefly.
Robert was resuming the spiel. "Now, Club Day is on Thursday, and I'd like to ask for volunteers to man the booth, even if it's just for an hour or so." He looked around the room expectantly.
Jeffrey was the first to raise his hand. Without quite knowing why I did, I raised mine also. A few other peoples' hands also were in the air. "Good. We have six volunteers. If you all can go for two-hour shifts, in groups of two, then we can cover six of the eight hours. Do I have any more volunteers? I can handle one shift myself, so I really only need one more." At that, one last person raised his hand.
Jeffrey leaned over to me and whispered, "Can we do the same shift?" Again, that odd impulse rose within me and I nodded yes. We signed up for the noon to two PM shift, and sat back down.
Robert then moved on to another piece of business. "As you know, there are other groups such as this one in other universities and colleges within the Lower Mainland. I've been talking to some of the group leaders, and I think we might be able to put together a kind of outreach program for high school students who are in grades 11 and 12 and are thinking about going to university, but who aren't sure about the kind of reception they will get. If we can help 'pave the way', so to speak, we'll probably be doing many of them a big favor."
A hand rose. It was one of the two cute guys who I had seen last week, and he was sitting next to the other. I idly wondered if their relationship had any meaning to it. Robert looked over at him and nodded.
"I was just thinking. I don't think we'd get a good reception going around to each high school, but what if we had a kind of 'phone support' line, and a monthly get-together where anybody could come in and ask questions about the groups?"
At that, other people began pitching in with their ideas, and Robert took notes. Finally, he called a halt, and summarized: "I'll be taking this to the other group leaders and I'll see what they think. The basic idea is that we have a phone number where prospective university or college students who are gay, lesbian, or bisexual can call and ask for information about support services available to them. Also, we will have a monthly, or quarterly, get-together and open-house where anyone can come and ask questions of leaders and members of the support groups."
A current of assent filled the room. Robert concluded, "Excellent! Is there anything else we should cover in this meeting? If not, see yuo next Tuesday, same bat-time, same bat-room." He grinned and winked.
Nobody spoke up or raised his or her hand, so the group meeting broke up quickly. I stood, and as I did so, Jeffrey did too, and looked me directly in the eye. "Where are you going after this?"
I said, "I'm going to take the bus home."
"Can I walk with you for a bit, then?"
I shrugged. He seemed harmless, and in any case, I could always politely get rid of him later. I began walking in the direction of the bus depot, and he tagged along.
His youthful enthusiasm was almost heartbreaking. "Chemistry, huh? Wow! I never could figure out what it is you guys do. What's it like?"
I replied with a question that caught him off-guard. "Hey, how old are you, anyway?"
"Uh, seventeen. Why?"
I felt old and tired, as though I were a man advanced in age, regretting the lost days of youth. "Wondered. Anyway, you wanted to know about chemistry..."
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Somehow, twenty minutes later, we were still talking. It turned out he would be on part of the same bus route I was. I saw how his eyes lit up when he noticed which bus I was going to catch. He lived in Burnaby, near the Metrotown mall complex. I had wondered aloud how he seemed so confident and carefree, and his reply caught me off-guard. "I decided to just bust out of the closet as soon as I got to university, man. I promised myself I'd do that because I was so sick and tired of being somebody I wasn't, back when I was in high school!"
I silently agreed, simultaneously amazed at his decision. I hadn't been so bold as to attend the "Out on Campus" meetings until this year. I found myself liking Jeffrey and his boundless enthusiasm and, at times, idealism. His choice of political science as a major was going to be his springboard to get into politics where he would, in his words, "rattle the homophobes from pillar to post!"
All too soon, his stop came, and he shook my hand again and bid me goodbye. "See you on Thursday!" I nodded and smiled in reply. My spirits stayed high as I continued on my own journey home.
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And that ends part 3. Dear readers, I have a quiz for you: What should Daniel's and Jeffrey's respective last names be? I have ideas in mind, but I'd like to have your input. Thanks for putting up with me!