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Chapter 9
So Randy was gone, just packed up and left. I just kept reading the note over and over again. That one line rang like a bell. 'I'm sorry it has to be this way, but I was okay with the mental knowledge that you were gay. When you kissed Geoff, I guess I couldn't deal with the physical reality.'
My best friend left. Weren't they the ones who were supposed to stick by you, no matter what? My shock and sorrow turned to anger as I got pissed at Randy for bailing over something that, when everything between us was broken down, was really very trivial. I mean; I'm gay, big deal. I was gay last week when we played pool together; I was gay last year when we went to the Eagles game together; what makes it different now? Did he think I would hit on him or try to rape him?
As these thought swirled around my head, another crept in to make my anger turn into stark fear. As soon as Randy and I had become roommates and best friends, our parents got to know each other. If Randy moved back home, his parents would want to know why. If he told the truth, his parents would call my parents and I would have no privacy or cover.
I couldn't keep focused. Should I call Randy? What if he wasn't home, how would I cover that one talking to his parents? And if he were home, how long would I have before his parents told mine? How would I talk to my parents? Would they understand? That one was easy, no they wouldn't understand, but could they at least accept the situation as it is? And if not, what would I do being estranged from my parents? A knock at the door shook me from my thoughts; it was Geoff. Confused since it was after 8 p.m. and he had to get me to sign him in, I started to ask him how he was up here. As always, he knew what I was going to say before I did.
"I'm friends with the guard, he let me in. You've been a while, what's up?"
I couldn't bring the words to my lips, so I just handed him the note. He read it, what looked like twice and then came in and sat next to me on the bed. He put his arm around me and tried to console me. With my veneer of machismo and being the strong man stripped from me by the man I loved, I finally truly broke down and started crying uncontrollably. I stopped when I felt his arm shift on my shoulder. I looked at him and saw him look at the door. I turned and saw who it was. Like the stereotypical villain who always returned to the scene of the crime, Randy just stood there. ---------------------------------
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