DYLAN'S SENIOR YEAR AT COLLEGE
Chapter. 41
by. Donny. Mumford
Christmas break was a lot of fun and we had a great time, but now Rob and I are totally focused on making it through our last college semester ever. And, yeah, we know what everyone says and we believe it's true that in years to come we'll look back at our Merrimack days as some of the most awesome of our lives... but right now we want to be done with it!
We want to be done with writing nonsensical papers for out-of-touch professors, many of whom live in a cocooned academic environment that barely resembles the real world, and we want to be done with reading books we don't like and be done with acting obsequious to the aforementioned oddball professors and be done memorizing facts we'll forget as useless after the exams and be done with every-fucking-thing to do with a formal education. We've had sixteen years of it. Enough already!
Heh heh, that's the kind of shit we've been telling each other on our way back to Merrimack. After this last semester, when we need to study something it won't be some crazy abstract nonsense, it'll be something directly relevant in helping us get ahead in the workforce so we can earn more money. Yeah, it's all about the 'cha-ching', and I'm sure everyone's familiar with that onomatopoeia. Just kidding a little bit there because, of course, we know money isn't everything but it's a better reward for hard work than getting a 'B' in a bogus Rock 'n Roll course at college.
It's taken us about an hour to get here but now we're cruising through the Royal Crest Estates, our home sweet home at college for almost four years now... okay, three and a half. I don't know why, but I'm fixating on the hundreds of tall naked trees on either side of the road. Hundreds of trees that not too long ago were beautifully covered with multicolored leaves. Without their leaves, the trees appear embarrassed or maybe that's me projecting. It gives me a weird foreboding feeling of powerlessness contemplating the, um, arrogance of the omnipotent power called mother nature. She's seemingly in control of just about everything including these barren trees that now look kinda spooky. A metaphor for things falling away in my life, perhaps? I shiver inside this warm pickup truck trying to force goofy negative thoughts like that from my mind. What the fuck am I looking at these trees for anyway? Glancing at Rob, he appears oblivious to the condition of the trees which is a more sensible attitude than mine. We drive past many apartment buildings, ones I don't notice when the trees are full of leaves. Enough with the trees already... jeez!
Rob drives to the very back of the complex where our apartment building sits and then parks the pickup in a 'NO PARKING' zone at the front door. I'm still in this weird frame of mind as I unnecessarily announce, "Here we are Robert!" He goes, "Yes, haha, brilliant observation, Dylan." I'm like, "This place doesn't seem as inviting as it did when we were freshmen." Rob wistfully mutters, "It's definitely lost its charm, now that you mention it." We get out and Rob opens the backdoor of the truck and motions at all our stuff, saying, "Let's do this, babe!" Yeah, we begin unloading things from the truck and I make myself stop looking for ominous signs like bare trees and mother nature's power. I need to try getting myself in a positive frame of mind.
It's only ten o'clock in the morning. We purposely got up early so we could have breakfast with Rob's parents before his dad left for work. We wanted to thank them properly for a great holiday. We did that nicely too, and without Rob being rude for once. They seemed surprised at our sincere manner. Heh heh, it was my idea, of course... the brown-noser's idea but I am sincerely grateful for the Dicker's generous hospitality and especially the love I've felt while living there, and not just from Robby.
Anyway, that's primarily why we're here earlier than we'd normally arrive back to college after a break. There are a couple of matters to attend to though, and us getting here this early will make that easier. One 'matter' being we need to buy textbooks for a course titled 'Web Site Design', and another thing is I need to pay for this last semester. I forgot to mail the bank draft I got at the, um, bank a month ago. It got misplaced and when I got a notice from the college two days ago the payment was past due. I was positive I'd mailed it... then I found the bank draft in the pocket of my dress pants. As for the textbooks, it's mindboggling stupid of the online bookstore to refer us to the on-site college bookstore, but that's one more example of why we want to leave all this incompetence behind. There was no reason given for why we couldn't buy the books online which is how we've done it for every other textbook from freshmen year up until this one particular textbook. They don't need to give a reason. It's like, if we don't like it we can go fuck ourselves. Hmm, this isn't precisely the positive frame of mind I was hoping for.
On a more positive note, we only have three courses this semester. Our courses are the Web Site Design course and two others: Ethics in Technology and Personal Finances. We'd already taken all the business degree courses required for graduating and only need a few additional credits. We chose these electives primarily because of the days and times the classes are scheduled. In other words, we wanted four-day weekends. Yep, no classes on Fridays or Mondays. Choosing these electives, even though we have no real interest in them was a no-brainer. Four day weekends... c'mon!
After two trips back and forth to our apartment, both of us humping as much stuff as we could carry, the third trip only requires Rob having his arms full. So, as he's taking the last of our stuff to the apartment I drive the truck away from the front door and park it in the parking lot's second row. Pretty good parking spot! And then, as I'm walking from the pickup to the front door a guy slams the door of an SUV and calls to me, "Hey, excuse me, could you wait for a second, please?" Oh, fuck, what now?
Turning around, I see a normal size youngish-looking guy wearing a hoodie sweatshirt and jeans. He has a box in his arms as he jogs towards me. On top of whatever is in the box, I recognize introductory pamphlets for Merrimack College. The guy has a nice smile, I'll give him that. Walking toward me, he says, "Hi, I'm Tom Brooker, um, are you a Merrimack student?" I nod, "Yeah, I go to Merrimack, whassup?" He goes, "I'm a transfer student and, ah, do you live in this building or are you just visiting someone, or...?" I go, "My boyfriend and I have an apartment here, yeah... number 106. Are you moving in?" He nods, "Yep, um, that is my folks helped me move in yesterday. I have some more stuff here..." Impatient to get moving, I go, "Oh, hun huh, I'm Dylan. If I can help, just..." and he goes, "Dude, it's a relief to know there are other students here." I'm like, "Yeah well, Rob and I are the only Merrimack students in this building but there are many more throughout these so-called estates... haha."
He grins and looks around before saying, "Yeah, I guess 'estates' is a pretentious name for apartments, but I'm lucky there was one available for a six-month lease. My other option was renting a room in the next town, um, Lawrence I think it is." I nod, "Yeah, uh huh..." and then he begins telling me much more than I need to know about his situation, "There were no available dormitory rooms, not that I lived in a dormitory at Providence College either, which is where, um, I commuted to, ah..." and his voice fades out at the end there as if he too realizes it's too much information.
Poor guy needs a friend. So, taking a quiet deep breath, I go, "Would you like to see our apartment? Um, I mean have a beer, or, no it's too early for a beer. How about a coffee or something and you can meet my roommate?" He looks relieved, "Oh man, yeah, that'd be awesome! Thank you, and maybe I can pick your brains and find out how I'm supposed to, ya know, get from here to there... or whatever." I nod and then sort of shrug not knowing what to say to that. I assume he'll use that SUV he just got out of to get from here to there, but I let it go because I don't want to extend this conversation standing here.
I sort of look quickly at the front door and he goes, "Ya know, I walked around the campus yesterday. It's larger than I expected so now everything has become kind of a blur. Haha, guess I'm feeling lost. Pathetic isn't it." I go, "Yeah, it is." I smiled at him when I said that and he snorts out a good-natured laugh, mumbling, "I suck at this." I move my arm. like 'after you', and he mutters, "Oh, yeah, haha," and he starts walking to the front door, readjusting his hold on the heavy looking box he's carrying. I mumble, "Can I help you with that box?" and he goes, "Oh, no thanks. I'm good."
We go up the first flight of stairs and then he starts to follow me as I walk down the first-floor hall. I stop and say, "Don't you wanna drop that box off at your place first?" He looks at the box as if he forgot he was carrying it, and then mutters, "Oh, yeah, haha, that'd be a smart thing to do, wouldn't it? Thanks. Apartment 106, huh?" I nod, "See you there." He walks back to the stairs and continues going up to the second floor, which is actually more like the third floor but, um... never mind, it's not worth explaining.
Rob's putting things away in the bedroom as I tell him, "We're gonna have company, Rob. There's a transfer student who's moving into an apartment above us." He makes a face, then says, "Another Merrimack student in this building, huh? Fuck, I hope that doesn't complicate things for us." I go, "That's the compassionate spirit, Rob! How would you feel if you just transferring to a new college where you didn't know anything or anybody?" Rob goes, "Fuck him, that's his problem." We both laugh out loud at that. Rob puts a pile of clean underwear in a bureau drawer, mumbling, "He's probably gay, heh heh." I frown at him and he goes, "I mean considering he drifted to you. You're a magnet for lost gay boys. Um, is he cute?" I shrug, "No, not really, he's normal looking... and what's that shit about lost gay boys drifting?" He snickers as we hear a knock at the door.
I go, "Jesus, he's fast. Be nice, Rob!" I walk to the front door as Robby's saying, "I'm always nice." It's the new guy, whose name I've already forgotten. I'm like, "Come on in, um..." He chuckles and says, "I'm terrible with names too. Oh, not that I'm inferring you are, that is... well, I repeated your name about ten times so I wouldn't forget it, Dylan." I'm like, "No, you were right the first time. I am terrible with names but I just remembered yours. It's Tom something-or-other, right?" Robby followed me to the door and now he holds his hand out, saying, 'Hi, Tom, I'm Rob Dickers." They shake hands as Tom says, "Good to meet you. I'm Tom Brooker."
Tom's hoodie is off his head now and he is actually sort of cute in an unusual way now that I can get a better good look at him. He's maybe a half-inch taller than Rob and me with a normal body type, meaning not slim and not overweight although it's hard to tell with his sweatshirt on. Um, on second thought he's pleasantly nice looking with a cute mouth. That's a more accurate description, and he has a nice nose too. A person's nose can fuck their looks up more than any other single thing. A shame really.
Tom has a medium complexion with light brown hair and light brown eyes. Pretty eyes that shine, or sparkle... or something. He's overdoing the smiling, of course, because he's uncomfortable, so I say, "How about a K-cup of coffee, Tom." He's like, "If it's no bother." I'm like, "Nooo, it's no bother. Rob and I were just about to get one ourselves." No, we weren't! That was a little white lie made with best intentions. In this case to help the new kid relax.
He says, "Yeah, sure, coffee would be good." Rob looks at me and goes, "Coffee?" I make a 'face' at him as I pat Tom's shoulder getting him to move toward the kitchen. Robby grins as he silently mouths at me, 'coffee?' Yeah, coffee. That's what neighbors always offer a new acquaintance in similar circumstances... at least they do in books I've read.
Here's the negative about this new guy's appearance, and there's almost always something, isn't there? It's that I can tell his last haircut was a buzz cut and, while he has a really good head of hair, cool-looking light-brown clean-looking soft hair, here comes the BUT... he's apparently like John Smith in that he gets a buzz cut, maybe because he's lazy or simply doesn't want to fuss with his hair, which is okay I guess except for the BUT, which is he hasn't gotten a haircut in like the past four or five months. So now, like John Smith's hair, months later this guy's hair has grown out the same two-inch length sticking up and looking like a fright wig or a hair halo. That's what's wrong with Tom Brooker's appearance, he's another one of those guys who doesn't give a shit about his hair and that's completely inexcusable!
Other than that he looks fine. His clothes are appropriate and, as I said, he looks good and he has a nice body and seems friendly and self-deprecating... all good attributes.
As I'm putting a K-cup in the machine, Tom asks Rob, "Do you guys drive to the campus or walk?" We have coffees at the kitchen table as Tom asks questions with Rob and I taking turns answering. They're all the questions I'd expect a new guy on campus to ask although it does get tedious and after a while, to entertain myself, I go, "Let me ask you a question, Tommy." He laughs, saying, "No one has called me 'Tommy' in years." I'm like, "Well, where we come from whenever possible we add a 'Y' to the end of a guy's first name. It's simply the right thing to do." Rob goes, "Don't pay any attention to that horseshit, Tom," then Rob says to me, "What was it you wanted to ask him?" I'm like, "Um, are you the moderator this morning, Rob?" Tom goes, "Oh fuck, are you guys gonna argue? That would be unbelievably awkward for me," and he sort of chuckles.
I go, "We never fight. Do we Robby?" Rob mutters, "No, we simply do what you want and that avoids arguments." Tom grins and I go, "As I started to say, you've got all these questions, Tom, so obviously don't know shit about this college which begs the question... why'd you transfer here? Not to put you on the spot or anything, but it is curious." He laughs out loud, which is a very good sign because it shows he realizes I'm sorta kidding around busting his balls. It's a very good sign he recognizes a little ball breaking when he hears it. And while he's laughing I notice another good feature of Tom's appearance... he has perfectly white teeth with a little space between all the top ones, which I've always thought makes a guy look youthful. After laughing his nice friendly laugh, he goes, "It's nice of you to put me at ease like that, Dylan." I go, "What's the scoop with you, Tom?"
He tells us his story. His family consists of him, his sister, and mom and dad. They lived near Providence Rhode Island where he commuted to Providence College freshman and sophomore years and halfway through this year, his junior year. Last November his father, who's an executive at Raytheon got transferred to Raytheon's Waltham, Massachusetts office so the family moved to Wayland, Massachusetts during the Christmas holidays. Merrimack is the closest Catholic college that accepted him on short notice, plus his family wanted him close by. He says, "We were here at the college, my parents and me, just one other time before yesterday which, to answer your question, Dylan, is why I don't know shit about this college but enrolled anyway. I mean, other than the propaganda my parents and I read online on the college's website."
Rob goes, "Well, how do you like what you've seen of the campus so far?" Tom shrugs, "It's not as, um, as impressive as Providence College but I like that it's a suburban school and I can get home on weekends... if I want." I'm like, "Wow, your whole family has been thrown into this situation abruptly, huh?" He nods, "I'll say. I feel totally unprepared considering I've never lived on my own before. Everything is new to me, not only with the college but this entire area in Massachusetts. I'm not even sure what roads I'd take to get to our new home in Wayland, or if I could find our new house if I did find my way to Wayland." Still breaking his balls, you know, so he realizes I think he's a cool guy, I say, "Well then, it doesn't really matter how close you are to this new home of yours, does it? I mean, since you don't know how to get there anyway." He chuckles, "Um, you've got a point there, Dylan. The move and everything had to be done in like two weeks, so I'm kinda fucked...."
Rob mutters, "Jesus," and, with a grin on my face, I say, "And I can't help noticing you're a bit of whiner too, huh Tom?" He spits out some coffee, laughing out loud again. Then he goes, "Um, no, not usually. I don't usually whine this much but it's just that my dad told me I'm on my own... he wants me to figure it all out by myself. He's like that. Dad's under the misconception that because he's wicked smart and can handle any situation that comes up, everyone must be like that." Robby goes, "Ya don't say." He must be thinking about his dad.
Tom gives us his nice smile and innocently says, "So, um, you guys are fag boyfriends, right?" Holy shit... good come back, Tom! Robby, who is in an unusually playful mood himself, goes, "I'm afraid so, Tom. I couldn't resist Dylan, I mean, look at him... look at that fucking face!" Tom chuckles, muttering, "I don't blame you, Rob. Or Dylan either for that matter." Hmmm?
Hmm, I'll need to get back to that comment for clarification, but for now, I ask, "Are you in the apartment by yourself?" He nods, "Yep, it's an efficiency apartment which I discovered yesterday is actually more like one room and a bath. Not really an apartment and it's expensive too. I mean, I went from not paying any room and board, and now it's $825 a month plus my meals. Where do you guys eat? I can't cook for shit. My dad says, 'learn how!"
Continuing my ball busting ways, I go, "Huh, your dad has some tough advice but, um, does your mom ever have anything to say?" He laughs out loud again and then says, "It's mostly my dad who says shit, yeah. You picked up on that, huh?" I go, "Nooo!" and he says, "No, my mom is always trying to tell dad that everyone isn't like him. She slipped me two hundred bucks this morning telling me to eat out, but I hate eating out alone." Me too...
He's quite the talker but he's in an uncomfortable situation so I'm trying to help matters by good-naturedly pulling Tom's chain and he's taking it in the right frame of mind while still being kinda nervous, and why wouldn't he be? Still, at the same time he seems very 'real'... a regular guy in a tough situation. I bet he'll be fine within a week.
Robby says, "We don't eat out a lot. Mostly I make Dylan do the cooking and cleaning. Would you care to have dinner with us tonight, Tom? I'll have Dylan cook up something good." Tom's got a smirk on his face, mumbling, "Oh, so Dylan's the wife then? I mean, in your, um, homo partnership marriage thing... um, your arrangement, or...?" Robby goes, "Yes, that's right, he's my wife," and Rob pulled that off with a straight face. I can't help laughing out loud myself now 'cause... way to go Robby! Both Tom and Rob are getting their jabs right back at me.
Robby would never have been able to pull that shit off a year ago. Back then he was too uptight about being proper and thinking things should be just right, and all that other sort of stuffy shit. Now Rob's turning into the class clown. Well, that might be overstating the facts a little. I go, "Robby, what are you telling this innocent kid? I'm supposed to be the funny fag, not you." Tom goes, "Oh no, not another fight. It'll be wicked awkward for me if you guys start arguing again," and then to show off that he's kind of a hot-shit himself, he goes, "Frankly, Rob, I'm surprised you let your wife mouth-off the way she does." We all laugh at that and then Tom says, "And, just so you know... I don't believe that wife shit for a minute." Rob goes, "Yeah, sadly he's not wife material"
I'm like, "No, I'm not wife material but, Tom, seriously... what do you think about titles like wife and husband for gays and lesbians?" He shrugs, "I haven't thought much about it but I guess it's okay if it's okay with the couple. I wouldn't like it myself I don't think. I'd be just me, a gay guy hoping to find someone half decent to have sex with. Would either of you like to be my first... oops, no... I should ask you privately, right?" He laughs again, but... huh? I wouldn't have guessed he was gay and I'm not sure he is. How'd he put that? Well, we've been breaking balls so much I don't know what's true and what's not by now. Hey, it's not my fault... not entirely.
But if Tom is gay it may complicate our last semester at college, as Rob inferred an hour ago. Not for me though because there are no bells and whistles going off at all. I didn't even think he was gay. Tom seems like a nice guy but he doesn't have that mysterious 'something' that guys like Hayden and Ryan Wilcox have that gets me instantly aroused, those two being the best examples although there have been others. Well, like Danny recently, and by recently I mean since the beginning of last summer.
Rob tries ending our conversation by mentioning to Tom that he and I need to go to the bookstore and then the business office. His effort at breaking-up our coffee klatch backfires however when Tom asks if we'd mind if he tagged along. What are we going to say... no, get lost? The three of us drive onto the campus with Tom in the back seat telling us that his older sister is engaged and how awkward this move is for her with her fiancé living in Rhode Island and blah, blah, blah. Yeah well, I tend to talk too much when I'm in a new or uncomfortable situation too.
I don't actually mind Tom's coming with us because he jokes around pretty good. As I said, he seems to be a regular guy who happens to be gay or at least he sort of implied he was. Hmmm? Jeez, holy shit... here's a thought: maybe Rob and I are being 'played' by this hick from Rhode Island... haha. Wouldn't that be something?
There isn't a single gay thing about Tom and I notice he's not ogling the freshman boys like I tend to do. He's not checking out guys, but then he's not checking out the girls we pass either, and now that I think about it, Rob's never been much for ogling guys either. What the hell, if Tom said he's gay why should I doubt him, and why should I care in either case? Yeah, but didn't he infer something about looking for someone to have a 'first-time' experience with? I think he said something like that. So does that mean he's a virgin?
After a typical bookstore experience, we leave the store with the textbooks but we're uttering curses under our breath as we walk outside. Rob goes, "It's insane the incompetent dicks they have running that place! I swear to God, that is the last fucking time I'm ever going in that store." I'm like, "Oh yeah? I couldn't help noticing some of the spring clothes they're beginning to put out. Cool new takes on the logos too." Robby's eyes light up, asking, "What'd they look like, babe?" He'll be back in there buying more stuff he doesn't need before we graduate... I'd bet my last donut on that.
The business office isn't any more organized than the bookstore but I get done what I need to and then we drive all over the campus pointing out places of interest to Tom. He did this sort of thing yesterday apparently but we make sure he can at least remember the locations of the buildings he has his four junior classes in. I must say, Tom is very generous with his appreciation for Rob and me helping him, obviously he's not one to take favors for granted. We finally park near the quad and go inside for just a few minutes to show Tom around. We don't stay long though because we're hungry and, while the Quad does offer prewrapped sandwiches and a few soup choices, as well as, lots of desserts, it's the last resort for lunch.
Instead, we have lunch at Fuddruckers and when we're in line Chubby and John Beverly come in a minute later and get in the line behind us. We do the usual quick hugging and fist bumps and whatnot, then I introduce Tom Brooker to Chubby using Chub's given name, Jeff, that everybody knows him as... except me.
Chubby goes, "Brooker, huh? Jesus, you wouldn't be related to Brooker T. Washington by any chance, would you?" Tom grins and then says, "I can understand why you'd ask that except it's actually `Booker' T. Washington and I'm Brooker with an 'R'. and of course, for me, it's my last name whereas Booker was his first name and then he was an African American slave and I am not. Other than those few minor details he and I are pretty much identical, so I can see why you'd think we may be related." Chubby goes, "So you're not related, is that what you're telling me?" Tom laughs out loud and Chubby says, "I knew that about the Booker part... just pulling your pud, Tom." Tom pats Chubby's shoulder and then says in a whisper, "Did you know your big brother's gay?" Chub goes, "Get outta here! How about you, are you gay?" Tom goes, "Christ no! I'm not gay... not that there's anything wrong with being gay, ya know?"
They banter back and forth while laughing, and then it's our turn to place our orders, which we all do. We find an empty table to sit at while waiting for the buzzer they gave us to go off indicating we can pick up our orders. While waiting we talk about our classes and Chub gets all pissed off he didn't think to set up his classes for four-day weekends. Chubby places all the blame for that oversight on John Beverly who goes, "Yep, it's all my fault."
While eating there's the usual exchange of personal data between us and Tom. Not prying stuff, general background information that friendly strangers who are sort of thrown together by circumstances tend to ask each other. Right after eating Chub and John Beverly are off to a dormitory's 'meet and greet' affair but not at their dormitory. No, they're joining the festivities at the dormitory of a couple of girls, both of whom they have an interest in. Sounds like a lot more energy is gonna be needed for something like that... a lot more than I'd be willing to put into it, but those guys are always on the 'make'.
Well, now I really don't know if Tom Brooker is gay or not. But, as I said, I don't really care one way or the other because there's no hot button I'm sensing coming from him. For the time being, I'm leaning towards him being straight and I'm certainly not asking the question all older adults ask, which is... do you have a girlfriend back home, Tom?
We drive to the apartment building again and as we're getting out of the pickup Tom tells us he needs to start organizing his stuff, putting away clothes and everything else he brought with him. At the landing for the second floor, he asks Rob, "Was that a serious dinner invitation?" Rob looks at me because I'll need to cook dinner, and I go, "Sure, Tom. Stop down to our place around six or six thirty." He says, "Thanks! See you then and, really dudes, thank you so much for today! I feel a hundred times better than I did before meeting you guys. Thank you!" Rob and I say, at the same time, "No problem," and we walk down the hall, with Rob mumbling, "Do you think he'll be leeching onto us all the time now?" I go, "Well, if you feed a stray dog... what happens?"
As we're going inside the apartment, Rob says, "Nah, he won't be a problem. He's a pretty good guy, don't you think?" I nod, "Yeah, I guess... but I don't think he's gay, and how about his hairdo!" Rob goes, "Yeah, that's pretty wild." He makes a face, and adds, "Ya know, I didn't think he was serious when he said he was gay anyway, and then I definitely believed him when he told your brother he wasn't." Frankly, I'm not interested in any more speculation about Tom Brooker's sexuality so I have no comment to that. Looking in the freezer, I mutter, "We need to go food shopping, Rob."
We go to Stop & Shop with me driving and Robby texting about baseball-related matters with, I suppose, other co-captains. They're setting up a schedule for unsupervised work-outs, weather permitting. The official college baseball pre-season starts sometime in February mostly inside the bowels of the ballpark, at least until the weather permits outside activities. College baseball in the northeast presents many challenges.
As soon as we walk inside Stop & Shop I get a call from Pony. He asks if he can eat with us tonight saying he can't find his meal card and blah, blah, blah. I'm not listening all that closely because I'm pretty sure it's bullshit anyway, and he just wants to eat with us. Actually, I'm happy to oblige since we haven't seen one another for over three weeks and I miss him. I interrupt his rapid talking to say, "Sure, whatever. I'll be happy to pick you up on my way back from the store, Pony. Hey, you can help me make the dinner." Also, since Tom is a junior like Pony, maybe they'll become friends.
Rob's still preoccupied with his baseball plans so he merely pushes the cart while texting back and forth with whoever. I drop food items in the cart, enough food to last us for a week at least. The meats we buy this afternoon will mostly get frozen which isn't ideal because frozen meats when defrosted always exude juice which is actually blood, of course. That's unfortunate because that 'juice' is what helps make the meat juicy and tasty along with the fat and whatnot that some people call marbling.
We check out and pay for everything at the self check-out stations and then put the bags of groceries in the back seat leaving room for Pony. I put the cost of the groceries on my debit card so, sitting in the idling pickup, Rob counts out his share of the cost in cash while I text Pony telling him to be where I always pick him up. He's there and as he climbs into the back seat next to the groceries, he's saying, "I missed you Dy.., um, I missed you guys. How was your break?" We exchange summaries of our Christmas break experiences during the short drive to the apartment. After putting the groceries away, keeping out the items for a chicken dinner tonight, Rob says, "I'm gonna take a shower, babe, see you in a little while.
It's four o'clock, which is too early to start dinner so I ask Pony, "Ya wanna have a smoke with me on the balcony? It'll be my first one today if you can believe that." He bumps against me, mumbling, "Didn't you miss me? You haven't even hugged me yet?"
See what I mean? Pony's like a little kid at times. I hug him and then kiss his lips, saying, "Of course I missed you." He says, "I almost caught the flu again, ya know? When I was home I mean." I'm like, "No, I didn't know that. When we were texting during the break how come you didn't mention it?" He shrugs, "I didn't want to bother you." For a joke, I ask, "Did ya get a chance to blow that guy that works at the grocery store." He goes, "How'd you remember that? No, I didn't see him this time. Instead, I whacked off thinking about you."
Rolling my eyes, I go, "Oh, hey, listen to this! There's a Merrimack student who just moved in the building a floor above Rob's and my apartment. He's a junior transfer from Providence College. You'll meet him at dinner and maybe you can make another friend!" He goes, "Oh goody! I might have another friend in my junior class in addition to my roommate, Donald. Is that what you're telling me?" He's being a smart ass, so I go, "No, probably not... not if you're going to be an asshole about it."
We still have our coats on so we go out on the balcony where Pony says, "Don't be mean to me, Dylan. It hurts my feelings." I hold my box of Marlboro lights out to him and he takes two, mumbling, "I'll take an extra one for later," and I laugh out loud at the way he said that... as if it wasn't a preposterous thing to do. He grins as I light our smokes.
Pony doesn't inhale while pretending to smoke. So, while immediately blowing the smoke he just dragged off the cigarette out, he goes, "So, what's this guy's name?" I tell him and he asks, "Is he gay?" I shrug, "I'm not sure but I don't think so. He's a pretty good guy though." Another puff off his cigarette and, after immediately letting it immediately out, of his mouth, he asks, 'What's he look like?" I mutter, "You'll see when you meet him. What courses did you take this semester?" and we talk about that and then about Pony not having a party to go to New Year's Eve, which makes me sad but I don't show it or say anything about it except, "Yeah, I've stayed in New Year's Eve before myself." Meaning when I was ten-years-old.
When Rob's showered and dressed, the three of us spent a rare hour playing a computer game... rare for Rob and me I mean. It was kinda fun, mostly because Pony kicked Rob's and my ass repeatedly. Seeing how happy he was about that made me feel good. The truth is, Rob and I don't give a flying fuck about computer games and I know that makes us oddballs since just about everyone else we know, except my brother, seems to live for them... a slight exaggeration perhaps. I'm not sure what the reasons are that Robby never got hooked playing computer games but I assume it's because he spent all his free time playing sports, and not just baseball... all sports. Chubby and I never had Xbox or Play Station or whatever when we were growing up because our moms couldn't afford those games, so we didn't know what we were missing and still don't, basically.
After the computer game, I'm about to go in the bedroom to get ready for a shower when Pony whispers to me, "What should I do while you're in the shower? Rob doesn't like me." I go, "Don't be ridiculous! He likes you; everybody likes you. Um, read my book if you want," and I get it out of my backpack for him. It's a secondhand book I got at Annie's Secondhand Bookstore titled, 'Needful Things' by Stephen King. A piece of shit actually, but I have this habit where I need to finish any book I start no matter how much it sucks. Stupid, I know, but...
Pony starts pretending he's reading the book as I get ready for my shower and Robby talks on the phone. He was talking to his dad, but after that conversation, someone else calls him as I'm going in the bathroom. So he's on the phone now but other times Robby could definitely be a little more friendly to Pony. It wouldn't kill him.
While showering something weird occurs to me and it's that Pony doesn't get me sexually aroused like, for example, Hayden did when I was home. Huh, can I believe I'm just now realizing being around Pony doesn't get me aroused? Sure, I like being the 'top' when fucking him but it's not really high on my 'to do sexually' list ... if I had such a list, which I don't.
On the other hand, Pony's definitely worked his way into my heart. Very much so as a matter of fact and I care about him a lot, but it's more like a big brother/little brother thing as opposed to a hot sex buddy. It's weird that he doesn't sexually excite me and I don't know if that's a recent development or if I've always felt this way. I'm trying to think back and it might be that a year and a half ago when I met him I was a lot more frivolous with my side sex choices than I am now. Hmmm, yeah, it's weird the way things change.
Haha, not everything changes though as I'm horny for Danny right now. And I didn't realize I was until I just thought about him this very second. I'm always horny for Rob but we have sex so frequently and awesomely that I'm never horny for him for very long. My sexual desires seem to be squeezing down to a much smaller group, certainly compared to what used to be the situation. When I was younger I was always hot to trot, so to speak. That can't be good... can it? I'm referring to my lack of sexual interest with many of the guys who used to intrigue me, not that I used to be 'hot to trot'. Nothing wrong with that.
When I'm showered and dressed, Pony helps me make dinner and Robby, finally off the phone, is now reading the latest Sports Illustrated magazine. He's been subscribed to that magazine since he was a teenager. He once told me that his parents always renewed the Sports Illustrated subscription as one of his and Dodger's Christmas presents. I wonder when they stopped doing that?
Anyway, for dinner tonight I'm preparing a roast chicken with creamy whipped potatoes and gravy, coleslaw, and my quick stuffing that'll cook outside the chicken. After I show Pony how to tie the chicken up, I put the five-pound roasting chicken in the preheated oven. It's in a roasting pan that will collect juices, some of which will become brown bits at the bottom of the pan. The brown bits are called 'fond' and are responsible for a lot of the flavoring in the gravy I'll make as the chicken rests. To do that I'll deglaze the pan with low sodium chicken stock scraping over the fond to dissolve it and then after de-greasing the liquid with a grease-separator I'll thicken the broth with a roux. To make the roux I'll use some of the separated chicken fat and mix in flour cooking it a bit to cook the flour and stir that into the broth and with it comes to the boil... ta-da, gravy. Oh, yeah, we'll have an official vegetable with dinner too. Tonight it'll be cheesy broccoli that almost everyone likes. So, that will be a pretty damn good dinner.
I get Pony peeling potatoes using a potato peeler. One time I gave him a paring knife and half the potato got cut off along with the potato skin. When making mashed or, more accurately, whipped mashed potatoes I always use Russet or Yukon Gold potatoes because they have lots of starch whereas a potato like Red Bliss, for example, is a waxy potato best for boiling, roasting, browning, or for something like potato salad when you don't want the potato to break up too much. Everybody knows that, right?
Pony watches as I turn the dry chicken stuffing called, Stove Top, into a pretty good quick stuffing. Plain Stove Top sucks but when I add some ingredients it's pretty tasty. I dice Texas sweet onion and then a stalk of celery, fine dice them, and then take the insides of breakfast link sausages out of the casing and cut the sausage mixture into quarter-inch pieces. The pieces of sausage go into a pan with a tablespoon of butter to sauté along with the onion, celery, and a small crushed garlic clove. Just sautéing them until the onions become translucent and there's still some 'bite' to the celery pieces. That takes two or three minutes and then I add poultry seasoning, another pad of butter, and some low sodium chicken stock and, lastly, the aforementioned Stove Top. Bring the broth to a simmer, turn off the heat and put the lid on and let it steam for at least five minutes to soften the Stove Top mixture. That's it except for stirring everything before turning it out into a bowl and fluffing it up with a fork.
By the time we're done the prep work we've made quite a mess in the kitchen and it doesn't help matters that Pony and I get to giggling about it... silly giggling from stuff I say as though I'm giving Pony a lesson on how to clean up after making a mess. I can only imagine how annoying the giggling is to Robby as he reads his magazine. It would be uber annoying to me too, but Pony and I are hooked in a goofiness cycle and can't just STOP. Fuck it... it's fun. I give Pony a hug because he's such a basically good kid and this year, occasionally, I find myself feeling bad for him and it pisses me off that I need to. And I don't know exactly what the fuck I mean by that...
We've done everything we can for now... it's a matter of just letting things cook. As we're walking into the living room with our giggling under control now, there's a knock on the door and Rob lets Tom in. Tom's obviously showered and tried to comb his hair but it only lies down across the front with the help of some hair gel. He looks good though wearing a clean and pressed button-down shirt and newish looking jeans, his face is clean-shaven and he's, as usual, smiling. He's also got a bottle of Old Grand-Dad bourbon in his hand that he holds up and says, "In case anyone likes bourbon." Pony goes, "I do!"
Rob introduces them without saying either of their last names. He mutters, "Pony meet, Tom. Tom... Pony." They shake hands and it's a little awkward, so I say, "Don't get any idea about Rob and I being matchmakers, Tom. We didn't know Pony would be here when we invited you to dinner, and Pony didn't know you even existed when he invited himself to dinner, so... ya know."
Pony says, "That's right, but I'm glad to meet another junior student, Tom. My name is Daryl Ponti, by the way. With a first name like "Daryl', I'm happy for any nickname even though mine is a little odd." Tom goes, "I always wanted a nickname but ya can't give yourself one, right? How'd you get yours?" Pony goes, "It came about when I was little and I couldn't pronounce my last name. At least that's one of the stories I'm told by my 'rents." Tom chuckles and then goes, "Okay, I'm Tom Brooker and, with the first name of Thomas, um... oh, that's a fine name, never mind." He chuckles nervously again as Pony frowns, not getting Tom's attempt at humor.
Anyway, they bump fist as I glare at Robby for fucking up their introduction. Pony says, "When do you think you're gonna break open the bottle of bourbon, Tom?" He holds out the bottle to Rob, saying, "It's Rob's and Dylan's bottle now." Rob goes, "Thanks, Tom. Um, okay, I guess we could do a shot now unless you'd prefer a Manhattan." Tom goes, "I'll hold off on the Manhattan until I'm in my forties, but I wouldn't say 'no' to a shot of that bourbon." He snickers nervously, adding, "I'm a little nervous."
I say, "I would be too, Tom. I mean if our situations were reversed. Fuck it, let's have a shot and a beer to break the ice. Dinner will be ready in about forty-five minutes." Tom mumbles, "It smells good," and Pony goes, "Dylan and I put together a roast chicken dinner." Rob goes, "What'd you do, Pony... put the lid on a pot?" I'm like, "Hey, Pony was a big help! C'mon in the kitchen," and we drift in there. I'm gonna kick Robby in the ass. Do I try humiliating Carl like that? No, I do not!
There's about a dozen of those plastic shot glasses left from when Chubby brought them with him the night before the dinner party we had a couple of months ago. I get four of the shot glasses out and pour the shots as Robby gets beers from the refrigerator. He says, "Oops, we should have picked up some beer today, babe. Down to five cans after this." I mutter, "We're not getting drunk tonight, so..." Damn though, we should have picked up a case!
There's no hesitation on Tom's part, he picks up his plastic shot glass and then waits for us. Pony gets his shot glass up and then Rob and I reluctantly lift ours as Pony says, "To new friends who bring bourbon to the party," and we flash down the ounce and a half of bourbon. It's Old Grand-Dad and isn't especially horrible I guess, but I actually can't tell the difference between it and say, Makers Mark, which is a lot more expensive. Both burn going down and make my eyes water, but I no longer feel like I'm going to throw up like used to happen. Tom goes, "Oh man, I could use that beer now." Rob and I are guzzling our beer as he pushes a can to Tom.
We continue standing here at the bar, Rob and me on the kitchen side and those guys on the other side as we drink our beers and talk about Merrimack, mostly for Tom's sake. When Pony and Tom compare their junior schedules, they don't have any of the same classes which is too bad. In passing, I think Tom said he's either got a minor or maybe he's majoring in education. They're off talking about frat parties now. If I heard correctly, Tom and Danny will have something to talk about if they ever meet which seems likely since Tom will be living upstairs and Danny's over here a couple of times a week. I'm referring to both Tom and Danny majoring in education.
I finally nod at the bottle of Old Grand-Dad, saying, "That's available to anyone who wants it. Please don't wait for Rob or me, please help yourself." Pony goes, "How about another one now, Tom?" and Tom's like, "Okay, sure." Those two flash down another shot and a few minutes later everyone is more relaxed and we drift into the living room to sit down with Tom telling us about the screw ups with the moving van and how his mom and dad had two days to find a house to buy and blah, blah, blah.
Later, I'm in the kitchen opening my second and apparently, last beer of the night. I drink some beer while inserting a meat thermometer in the chicken. Huh, it registered 170 degrees, slightly overcooked but not by much. Taking the chicken out and then putting it on a platter I hear Tom say, "You three guys look neat and preppy. I was looking today while we were driving around campus but didn't see any stores so I guess there isn't a campus barbershop. Where do you guys get your hair cut?"
Ha! He needs a haircut for sure and I was just thinking about those two, Tom and Danny, but I didn't make the obvious haircut connection. Pony, feeling the effects of his shots and beers, says, "No problem, Tom! I'm in tight with our on-campus barber, Danny Monday and I can get you in for a haircut this Saturday. I'll be getting one too." Tom's like, "Oh?" and Pony goes, "Yep, he's the best barber in North Andover and a personal friend of ours, right Dylan?" Robby goes, "Well, Christ, the guy who services the Quad's vending machines could get Tom in for a haircut from Danny. Danny doesn't turn anyone away but, Tom, ya better like short hair if you go to Danny's dorm-room barbershop. Word to the wise." I mumble, "Well aren't you in a pricky mood tonight, Robert." He shrugs, "Why do you say that?" I'm referring to his wise-ass comment to Pony of course, but I drop it for now.
They talk about Danny's dorm barbershop a little and it gets settled that Pony will use his 'influence' to somehow get Tom into the exclusive group of 'any-and-everyone-who-wants-a-haircut' at Danny's dorm this Saturday. Rob and I need to chuckle about the exclusivity of Danny's clientele while Tom's not sure what the joke is. No harm done, and it's good Pony's reaching out a little to Tom. Maybe they will become friends. Robby and I got haircuts from Danny during the Christmas break so we won't be going... unfortunately, in my case.
The dinner turns out really well and it's an okay night overall. I mean, considering Tom's basically a stranger and Rob's not crazy about Pony, plus he's got that baseball thing primarily on his mind, plus we've got the beginning of our last semester tomorrow on our minds as well. Rob's a little uptight all night... but mostly friendly. Hell, earlier he was in an especially good joking-around mood when it was just Tom and me. Obviously, as I said, Tom doesn't really know any of us and Pony mostly just wants to stick to me like glue so considering everything tonight went about as well as I could have expected.
Rob and I never have another shot of bourbon but Tom and Pony have two more after dinner while sharing the last can of beer while talking together in the living room as Rob and I clean up the kitchen. A little later it's Tom who says he wants to get an early start tomorrow so he's gonna get to bed early. Good for Tom knowing when it's politely time to go.
At the door, he's again very appreciative of the dinner and all our help. I try to get him to take the rest of the bourbon with him, but he insists on leaving it. So, now that we know each other a little better, plus the booze, it's guy-hugs all around with Tom before he leaves. When he's gone I get my coat on and drive Pony back to the dorm. It's only nine-fifteen, but smart of us knowing when it's time to stop.
Pony's a little drunk, not falling-down drunk but a little drunk and therefore very talkative during the short ride to the campus and when we're at dormitory row he overdoes kissing me goodnight, plus he seems overly emotional. As he's opening the pickup's passenger door in the parking lot he looks back at me, and says in a very serious manner, "I should have looked around before kissing you goodnight, Dylan. What if someone was walking through the parking lot."? I go, "Oh, fuck that!" and he's like, "Oh, sure, you wouldn't care," and for some reason, he sort of hangs on the door like he doesn't want to leave. I go, "Hey, do you think Tom's gay?" He shrugs, "I don't know. Is he?" I shrug back at him, mumbling, "I don't know either. Text me tomorrow, Pony. And, dude," he looks at me and I go, "You're an awesome person! You need to realize that, okay?" He frowns, "Oh, um, okay. I love you, Dylan," and the door slams and he runs down dormitory row like his pants are on fire. Jesus!
Back at the apartment, I find Rob getting ready for bed. He says, "Can you believe I'm going to bed at nine-thirty? I'm freakin' tired!" I go, "The last three weeks is catching up with us Robby. I'll be in bed right behind you." After my bathroom ritual, I turn out the light and get in bed snuggling up to Robby, murmuring, "Are you too tired for this," and I rub my hand around his belly and over his package. He murmurs, "Nope, I'm not too tired for that," and we start a little foreplay with a few gentle kisses while rubbing our hands over each other and that leads to more bodily contact and then some serious making out. It doesn't take much to get us very sexually aroused. Well, by now we know what buttons to push.
I'm soon spreading lubricant on Rob's fat boner and then reaching back to lube my ass while Robby's rubbing my shoulder and kissing the side of my neck. He gets me up on my side and then begins tightly pushing his hard fat cock up my ass. He's right behind me, up against my back with his arm over my side. His face against my shoulder as he murmurs, "I wish this didn't hurt you, Dylan," and he slowly finishes pushing his cock up my ass. Sure, it hurts. Hurting or not, when we're alone like this it's the best time of the day or night for me. I love feeling him inside me.
I try keeping my grunts of pain to myself as Robby gets snuggly against my ass and then neither of us moves for almost a minute. Then, like a light switch turning on I sense a wonderful relief that floods over me as my rectum settles down and pain just fades away unceremoniously. Robby can see and feel my body relax and he probably heard my quiet sigh of relief as pleasure begins to swarm around the pleasure zone in my brain and simultaneously transmits the good news all around my pelvic region. My cock gets bone-hard and throbs once as Rob pulls that fat sex organ of his back and then everything begins brightening up in my head, sexual pleasure adds color to my world turning everything from a dull black into brilliant colors... and off we go.
Steady thrusting that's not especially hard so no bodily slapping sounds, but it sure feels good making us shudder together and moan quietly. It's almost religious how we do this sometimes, and for a couple of minutes is so perfect it seems surreal. After a few minutes of bliss though Rob's thrusting gets faster and our grunts and groans get louder and then, Omigod, this feels totally fucking fantastic as everything kicks in, seemingly every nerve ending in my body is working on pleasure sensations and doubling each minute that passes reaching ridiculous levels for both of us.
Harder and faster thrusting now, Robby making his familiar whining desperations sound as his orgasm builds to the tipping point and now it's balls to the wall in a wild rush to climax. My climax blows my mind, just like it does every time. "SLAPSLAPSLAP!" and "Aiiieee," as cum streams straight out from my hard dick. My whole body shudders and, oh Christ... another long stream of cum pours out even as Rob's gasping and doing his final hump against my ass shooting his creamy load of spunk inside me. As always there's deep breathing and hearts pounding fast along with that lingering feeling of perfect pleasure, the perfect reason for being alive. Pleasure sensations zooming all around my body and soul and mind... ooooh, Jesus that was good!
"Oooh," from Robby as he pulls his cock from my body and rolls onto his back. "Oooh," again, and then, "I love you, Dylan. That was, um, it never felt like that, um, ever with anyone but you. Never ever felt the way it does with you, babe... it's, um, so wonderfully different and so much better." I slowly roll off my side landing on my back, partly on Robby with my shoulder against his chest.
After a few more deep breaths I'm squirming off him a little but staying against his side, murmuring, "Me too, Robby." Another deep breath and I quietly say, "That felt good," and the way I said that makes him chuckle and get his arm under my neck to pull my head over. He kisses the side of my forehead and says, "It felt good, huh? Haha... You are so special! Dylan!" I mutter, "You too," and he says, "Um, I'm sorry I was an ass with your friend tonight. I was grumpy because I wanted it to be just you and me our first day back, but you're too popular." I go, "Hahaha, that's so not true. It's you who knows three times as many guys as I do, and you're the one who invited Tom to dinner."
Rob waits for a second, remembering I guess, and then he goes, "Oh yeah, but you would have if I hadn't." I go, "Probably, but let's get to sleep," and that's what we do.
This time the semester begins in the middle of the week for us. You know, it depends on what day of the week the New Year falls on. In any case, it's Wednesday when we wake up to the first official day of our very last college semester ever. We showered yesterday afternoon but we have the time this morning, so we both take another quick shower. Whenever possible, that's my favorite way to start the day... sex and then a shower.
The first day of any semester is almost always an abbreviated day with only brief introductory classes so usually, it's an easy day. While that's true, it's always a little nerve-wracking too because the unknown always is. On the other hand, we've done this so many times its sort of not a problem. I can't help but feel sorry for Tom though... everything for him today, absolutely everything is new and therefore almost like him being a freshman all over again.
We don't see Tom this morning so he probably had an earlier class then our first one. The day plays out as I expected it would except the class for Personal Finance lasts almost forty minutes. I guess that new woman professor isn't onboard with the introductory nature of first classes here at Merrimack, which could be an indication of a potential problem with this bitch all semester. She's the officious type too so not a good start with her! Even with that anomaly, we're still finished our three classes by twelve-thirty and on our way to lunch at McDonald's. I've got stuff for lunch at the apartment but we feel like McDonald's, so that's where we go.
After lunch, Rob says, "Let's do something weird," and I'm like, "Will it involve a whip?" Rob snickers. "Not that weird. I wanna go to the movies." Oh yeah! We only go to about three movies a year although I love movies! I'm like, "Yes!" and then, "What's playing?" He doesn't know but we drive to the Methuen Mall in Salem, New Hampshire, which is like a fifteen-minute drive. That's where there's a big movie theater with twenty screens. Rob parks and we go into the theater and check what's playing. Five out of the twenty movies playing are movies I'd like to see and one of them is starting in twelve minutes. We buy tickets and then get popcorn and Cokes. We're not hungry but I can't imagine not eating popcorn at the movies... I like movie theater popcorn.
The movie is one of those comic book superhero movies but done really well and for two hours we dwell in the land of make-believe without a single concern about anything from the real world intruding. That's what's good about movies, plus this one was fun to watch although stupid beyond belief. Well, yeah, that's why you suspend disbelief before the movie starts. Suspend all ability to be critical of what you're watching. It's kinda necessary if you want to enjoy the show. So that was good except it cost fifty dollars for us to suspend our disbelief for two hours. That's a pricey afternoon but once in a while, we suspend common sense too.
It's four-thirty when we get back to the apartment. I lie on the sofa reading my dumb book and continue the suspend-disbelief shit. That's kinda necessary while reading many of Stephen King's books. Rob's on the computer doing... who knows what? Around seven o'clock we're not actually hungry because of the large bucket of popcorn we both had at the movies but we should eat something. I make chicken salad from last night's leftover chicken and we have that with a salad of lettuce, tomato, and cucumber, a couple of rings of red onion on top. That plus a roll and butter serves for our dinner very nicely. After watching two science shows on Netflix we go to bed and fuck... twice.
Our first class on Thursday isn't until eleven so we sleep in later than normal and then take our time screwing again... fucking even slower than last night's sex. Damn, what a truly fantastic way to spend ten to fifteen minutes! And we still have time to shower and eat breakfast before leaving for our first day of real classes. Pony texts me as Rob's driving us to the campus. He texts that it's a sunny day, supposedly in the low forties by this afternoon with no wind, so why not run this afternoon. Yeah, that is amazing weather for the first week of January so let's take advantage of it!
Before the Christmas break, Pony and I were working out at the fitness center a couple of days a week but we weren't doing a lot of running. Today I feel like running and exercising because I didn't do any of that during Christmas break. Before committing to run with Pony though, I ask Robby, "Do you have anything planned for after classes today?" He shrugs, "Not really. Who texted you?" I tell him and he says, "Go run with your buddy and I'll see if there's anything happening at the ballpark." So that's what we'll do. I text Pony back and arrange to pick him up at three-fifteen.
Our first class today is at eleven o'clock and it's a routine one-hour class, or fifty minutes usually and then the other one is a ball-busting two-hour lecture hall class starting at one o'clock, which means we'll get out a little before three. We'll grab something quick to eat in between the classes.
That scenario plays out but it's not as easy as that sounds. The first class was bad enough because we're out of practice just sitting for the better part of an hour. That takes some getting used to after being away for over three weeks and then the second class in Brighton Hall we're sitting there with like a hundred and thirty other students and someone is always whispering to someone and then there's general rustling that goes on, a cell phone goes off and above all those annoyances is the constant droning voice of this old professor who's lost interest in teaching some years back, Jesus, it all makes for a loooong two hours. Yeah, we got a break in the middle but it felt like a lot longer than two hours that's all I know. We'll get used to it after another week of classes I suppose. Hope so anyway...
I drop Robby off at the ballpark and then pick Pony up where we always meet and we drive to the track. We're wearing sweatpants and sweatshirts so when I take my coat off to do some warm-up exercises it feels kinda cold but when we start running I warm up fast and then I'm sweating before I've run the first half mile. It feels good to run and I make myself do my usual two miles and then walk the third mile. Pony leaves me behind to complete his run of mile three and four and we finish up about the same time. My body feels loose, I feel good when we get to the fitness center. We're there for a half hour sweating and overdoing it to the degree we'll both have sore muscles tomorrow but in a way that'll feel good. Pony's bowling early this evening with his dorm's bowling team so I drop him off and then sit in the parking lot texting Rob to see if he's ready to leave the ballpark. He isn't but he texts back that he'll get a ride to the apartment with someone. Nice! I drive back to the apartment thinking today was a damn good day... the first full day of our last semester ever.
After a nice long hot shower, I put on old soft warm clothes and lie on the sofa finishing my book. Some parts of the book weren't horrible and I've read a couple of other Stephen King's books I liked okay. 'The Shining' was really good and it's a helluva good old time movie too. I got shivers when those twin girls appeared in the movie... hahaha. Later Robby comes in with Carl and we do our study group for the first time this last semester. The last one Rob and I will ever need to endure. Or am I overdoing the last semester concept?
We have no classes on Friday so we lie in bed smirking smugly at one another because a four day weekend is staring us in the face. It's no surprise we end up screwing around and eventually Robby's fucking me a new asshole; just what I needed! He was rough about it too! Awesomely rough with more than a few smacks on my ass. The whole time I was on my hands and knees jostling to and fro on the mattress as he hard thrusting got harder and harder. We take a rest afterward talking about the last few weeks and then do everything all over again... the fucking part I mean, not our review of the last few weeks.
We shower together and finished before noon after which we make brunch together; one of those big ones like Chubby and I used to make on Sundays for the moms. Rob wanted to know how to prep and then cook everything. He helped me do everything too so it took twice as long as it should have but when we eat around one o'clock, we're really hungry and it's really good so we stuff ourselves.
After cleaning the mess we made in the kitchen we somehow get into a cleaning mood and clean the whole damn apartment from top to bottom. What a pain in the ass but, wow, it's awesome knowing everything is wicked clean. It's amazing how much dust accumulated on everything during the three-plus weeks we were at home. The fucking place sparkles now though. After that exhausting endeavor, I wanna buy some books to read so Rob comes with me to Annie's Book Store that's in the CVS Mall in downtown North Andover. I buy three used paperback books all by John Stanford and all in his 'Prey' series: "Silent Prey', 'Broken Prey', and 'Chosen Prey' are the titles. Very entertaining reads if you like really bad villains and a detective who finally catches them, usually doing them great harm in the process.
Tonight there's a 'Final Semester' fraternity party, obviously being thrown by seniors who are members of the fraternity. We're going to it at around nine o'clock so we've got plenty of time to take another shower, which we do because we're feeling grungy from the cleaning we did earlier. We skipped lunch because we had brunch late and we won't need dinner because the frat party includes hot dogs and chicken wings and all the beer you can drink. Yeah, all that for $30 a person and we'll want to get our money's worth. Only seniors can attend and they're checking college ID at the door. We're meeting Chubby, his shadow John Beverly, Danny, and some baseball players at Rolf's Bar around seven-thirty for some front-loading. Yeah, this is the part of college life that ain't so bad. Let's do this...
to be continued...
Donny Mumford thinat20@yahoo.com donnymumford@outlook.com
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Hoping some readers may be interested, there are books of mine published and available on Amazon.com. Anyone who has Kindle can download them for next to nothing. The books are usually around ten dollars. They are about a 19 year old gay boy (Oliver) who has a far different life than Dylan's. And there is a new book, 'Mike, his Bike and Me'. Please at least check them out by typing my name on Amazon.com. Information about the story in the books can be found in some detail there. Thank you.
Donny Mumford
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