As the new school year got into full swing Peter became engulfed in his studies, but still carved out time for the weekly soccer matches. He looked forward to them all week, more so than he did in the previous year. He always like the game, but this year in particular he was able to actually create a team rather than just joining one, and he really like the team that he helped to build. They weren't dominating the league, but played a respectable game and had by far the most fun doing it.
Marty continued to ask Peter about his eye, even weeks after the incident itself. It was something of a relief to Peter, not only because it was just a nice gesture, but it indicated that Marty clearly wasn't scared off by the gay issue. And that wasn't a foregone conclusion, as it wouldn't have been the first time that someone told Peter that they were comfortable' or accepting' of his being gay but then slowly withdrew from his life.
It was drawing toward the end of the last period when Peter was really struggling to keep up. His teammates couldn't help but notice his slow gait and labored breathing. An out-of-bounds kick that flew into the nearby parking lot gave Jeremy a chance to pull him aside.
"Hey bud, you doing OK?" he said, putting his hand on Peter's back as he watched him struggle for breath.
Peter didn't answer at first, as he was bent over with his hands on his knees, obviously having a difficult time just standing up. As he finally righted himself, he staggered slightly before answering. "Yea, I'm fine Jer, thanks. Just a little woozy, that's all"
"You sure you want to keep going? We can handle this, you know."
Peter paused again before answering, clearly having trouble breathing easily. "yea,...I'll be fine, just need to catch my breath a bit...that's all," he replied, pausing at practically each word.
Just as Jeremy took has hand off Peter's back, Marty approached and asked Peter the same questions. He got the same answers in return, only with slightly less labored breath.
"Well, you don't look too good to me. There's no need to push yourself too hard, it's not like we've bet serious money on this...right?" he asked as he winked at Peter, who was steadily recovering but still obviously winded.
"Not big money, but..." He was too tired to engage in any kind of clever repartee, which was not lost on Marty.
He positioned himself at Peter's left side, a habit he was starting to get into when he really wanted Peter's attention, and reached over and grabbed his shoulder. He suddenly felt him shake.
"Peter! Are you OK? You're shivering! Are you cold?" he asked, quickly drawing himself even closer. Jeremy also approached him, fearing a sudden collapse.
Peter wasn't cold at all, and didn't know where the sudden shiver came from. When Jeremy had touched him and he was fine, but when Marty touched him it was like getting a shock of static electricity.
"No... no... I'm fine, I'm fine. I don't know, maybe your hand is cold," he said, unable to come up with some rational reason. Jeremy gave him a funny look, almost a smirk, but Peter didn't react at all.
The shaking, and Peter's strange answers, made Marty even more apprehensive about his condition. He put his hands on both of Peter's shoulders and looked him right in the eye. "You should take a breather. We'll be OK out there, we're only behind by a goal," he said in as calm a voice as possible, not wanting to betray any of the real anxiety he was feeling about Peter's state.
"I'll be OK," I can do it, he replied, to which Jeremy shook his head, `NO!".
"Peter, like I said, you really don't..."
"I'll be OK, I'll be OK, "Peter shot back, a slight irritation in his voice. Yet he staggered once again, even with Marty's hands still on his shoulder.
But Marty had seen enough. "All right, Peter, here's the deal," he said, positioning himself to speak directly into Peter's left ear. "You can go to the sidelines to rest and then get back in the game when you're OK, and we'll be temporarily down by only one guy. Or, if you don't want to cooperate like that, we can be down by two guys."
"What do you mean `down by two guys?" Peter asked, exasperated.
"Because if you don't go off this field on your own, I'm going to physically pull you off of it all by myself then I'm going to sit on you until I think you've recovered. That means we'll be down by two guys."
Peter looked straight at him, then at Jeremy, whose face gave Peter the distinct message of, `don't look at me to defend you!'
"You're a mean one, aren't you?" Peter asked, returning Marty's gaze in an almost plaintive way.
"Mean and proud,' Marty proclaimed, completely unmoved by the comment. "So are we going to do this the easy way or the hard way?"
Peter's lean jaw twitched as he struggled to keep his composure. Finally, exhaling a blast of air and squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, he acknowledged the `request' with a nod of his head. Marty gently helped him turn to the side and both he and Jeremy gave him a gentle push toward the sidelines
"You need some help?" Marty and Jeremy both asked at once.
"No...um thanks, I'll be OK. Just go out there and win it, OK guys?" he said as waved back at them, looking like a study in reluctance and disappointment.
"We'll do our best!" Marty answered back as he and Jeremy started to return to where the rest of their team was waiting for them. "You sure you're going to be OK?" Marty asked as he paused one more time.
"Yea, I'll be fine...go ahead..." Peter replied as he turned and finally dragged himself off the field.
In spite of Marty's continuing chastisements, administered as he would run past him on the sidelines, Peter yelled and cheered for his team as he gradually regained his strength. Now the only thing starting to fail on him was his voice, as his loud cheering and cajoling was almost continuous.
"Are you going to take it easy and rest up?" Marty asked as one point as he diverted himself toward the sidelines on his way downfield.
"You told me I had to go to the sidelines and rest, not lay down and become a corpse" Peter called back. "This is how I rest!"
Shaking his head in resignation, Marty continued down the pitch, disgusted with Peter's continued resistance. But he couldn't help smiling to himself at the same time.
Coming inside from the October chill, Peter saw his team in a tight group at the end of the bar, dominating a huge wooden table stacked with pizza, beers and colas. Throwing his backpack next to the bench, he sat down beside the long end of the table facing the small dance floor. He liked all his teammates, so he didn't give a moments thought to who he would be sitting next to and just plopped himself down at the closest open space he found.
To his surprise, he realized that Marty was in the middle of the other side with a slightly shorter but very attractive girl next to him. Sometimes one of the guys would bring a girlfriend, but these regular team dinners were usually stag affairs, something to break up the middle of the week and just have a good time off the soccer pitch.
For a moment after seeing this girl, Peter felt a strange sense of disappointment, which came on him suddenly and strongly. Marty had never talked about a girlfriend, or girls at all for that matter, so it was something of a surprise to see him with someone, especially a girl as attractive as this one. He had more-or-less assumed that Marty was straight, but actually seeing a female in the flesh next to him kind of drove it home in a less than pleasant way. At least that's what he told himself as his mind whirled around trying to figure out exactly what was going on.
"Hey Peter, Hi!" Marty called out. He was again breaking into that big smile he seemed to be showing a little more of each week. "I've got a visitor for you to meet,' he said as he put his hand on her shoulder, obviously anxious to make the introduction.
Peter seemed to notice every detail of how his hand went onto her shoulder, sort of like it was in slow motion. Like how his fingers contrasted with her dark sweatshirt but seemed to match the tone of her blond hair that looked surprisingly like his. Peter did his best to manage a smile of his own as he reached out to great her.
"Peter Kovar, I'd like you to meet my sister, Angela. Angela, this is my friend Peter who I told you about."
When he said sister,' Peter paused for a moment. Sister? He said sister?' he asked himself as he suddenly felt like there was a lot more fresh air in the room.
"Hi, glad to meet you!" he practically shouted back, with a relief in his voice that he hoped was only obvious to him. "I hope he hasn't told you any nasty things about me. We've only known each other for not even half a football season, so I know I haven't shared all my vices with him yet," he said.
She returned his suddenly firm handshake. "Hi, glad to meet you, too, Peter. He's had nothing but nice things to say about you, but then again it might be early in the season. I'd make sure you guys win a few more games out there if you want to stay on his good side. He doesn't like to lose!" She said with grin, as her brother and the others joined in with laughter.
"He hasn't threatened us yet, even though our record is only four-and-two and not six-and-zero, but maybe we're starting to wear out his patience!" Jeremy chimed in to more laughter.
"So are you going to help Marty with this weeks treats?" Peter asked, referring to the regular game-day goodies that he brought every week. "We live for those morsels, they inspire us."
Everyone laughed again, then the table slowly broke down into several groups of individual conversations as Peter leaned over toward her and asked if she made desserts herself.
She chuckled and smiled, a smile a lot like Marty's, only she seemed to wear it more often. "I do what I can, but he's really the baker, or should I say the pastry chef in the family. I'm the chef for the other stuff."
"In high school I used to make the dinner while he used to make desserts, "she said. "But we could never eat it all. Your guys are doing him a huge favor by devouring this stuff. He'd weigh 400 pounds if you didn't."
"At your service, Mr. Landis!" Wei cried out. He was especially a fan of Marty's fancy peanut butter and chocolate concoctions.
"I've got a lot to learn, but I kind of like to do really interesting stuff, at least with the kind of ingredients that I can afford, " he said, "but my criteria for the stuff I bring here is quick' because I don't have a lot of time and light' because I have to carry it in my backpack.
"Well," Peter said, "we're going to have to cut you loose sometime to see what you can really do. Wei and I have cars. We can do pickup service," he said as Wei smiled broadly and raised his hand to second the idea.
Even as they all chatted and joked, Peter sensed a control and reserve in Angela, in a way not unlike her brother. But he noticed too that she glanced over at Peter himself occasionally. It wasn't at all a romantic and or sensual look, more like a kind of quick scan and analysis, like she was trying to figure something out. He even noticed that she looked around, but not into his eyes when they shook hands.
"So what brings you into town?" Peter asked as he picked up the pitcher of soda and offered to pour more into her glass and also the others around him, "besides the baked goods!"
She gave another smile, a type of wide, brimming grin that she shared with her brother. "Well, we're both a long way from home, so being only about 2 hours away from each other now I've been looking for an occasion to visit. I'm taking a field biology class, ]you guys are right on the way to the ponds where we're doing our research. So I just thought I'd make a small detour with one of my classmates. My friend-slash-driver has a high school friend here, so it wasn't hard convincing her."
"Angela got in last night at 8:00, then we had dinner and talked until 1:00 this morning. I'm glad I had a late class today," Marty said, with obvious relief.
"I confess, I have been putting a bit of pressure on her to come, and me, too," he continued. "Neither of us has wheels, so at the first opportunity I wanted to see if either of us could get to the other one's school. She's never been up here in the mountains before, so I wanted to show the place off."
"If you need wheels, I could drive sometime," Peter said. He had a jalopy of a car himself, not much of a fancy thing at all, but he knew that Marty wouldn't care. "I'd like to drive down that way sometime myself anyway. I always go through there on my back and forth from home. It's really beautiful countryside." He was anxious after asking the question, thinking that Marty may consider it too forward or somehow inappropriate, but instead he jumped right on it.
"Wow, Peter, that would be great. We could do it anytime that's convenient for you and all. And I'll pay for gas. We could crash...hmmm... she lives in a girl's dorm...well we'll figure that out."
"Hey, I'll crash there...I mean in the girl's dorm." Wei said in a calm voice, but definitely loud enough for everyone to hear. "I don't even mind sharing a bed," he continued, which got him roars of laughter.
"Great! Road Trip!" Peter exclaimed back, to hoots and raised glasses all around the table.
When it came time to share the bar tab, Marty insisted on paying his and his sister's equal share of the bill, even though both of them drank the cheaper colas rather than the more expensive beer. And where some of the guys threw in big bills and didn't sweat the change, Marty paid their share in small bills and coins, even getting down to nickels and dimes to make sure that they were covered.
No one said anything about this, but as Peter saw him counting the change, his hand pressed close to his chest, he could tell that Marty felt a little self conscious about it. Wei, a business major who was growing into a self appointed role as group treasurer during these outings, never individually counted the money he got from him, he always just threw it straight into the big pile that he always accumulated in front of himself.
Everyone had a great time that night, but there was one issue that Peter had on his mind throughout the evening that he needed to talk to both Jeremy and Marty about. As everyone was breaking up around the table, he tried to keep his eyes on both of them. Before he knew it, however, Jeremy was waving goodbye and moving quickly away, running off to meet his girlfriend at the library. But Peter was able to catch up with Marty while his sister went to the restroom.
Marty had just pulled his jacket off of the wall hook next to their table when Peter approached him from behind. "Hey, one thing I wanted to mention to you about the other day..." Peter paused for a moment, a bit embarrassed, but then continued. "I wanted to apologize for being kind of jerk...no, I mean not kind of a jerk, but a real jerk. I'm not very proud of the way I acted other day during the match. Sometimes I get tired like that, but I want to play so bad I kind of overdid it and, well...I know it's no excuse...but I'm sorry."
"No worries, you weren't being a jerk at all, you just wanted to play and help your team," he said as he put his jacket on, then paused before pulling up the zipper. He looked at Peter then moved closer, speaking quietly but directly to him, and as usual favoring his good hearing side. "To be honest I was worried about you, you didn't look good at all. Are you OK?"
"Well, sometimes I get sort of short of breath when I play real hard, not all the time, but sometimes. But this has happened for a while, nothing major or new."
"Are you OK? I mean have you had this checked out? How often has it happened before? Marty was beginning to get a familiar sense of urgency in is voice, sounding just like he did after he had struck Peter during that first match.
"Yea, I kind of know the cause, basically, but there's not a lot I can do. I mean I'm OK and all, it's just something I have to watch."
"Can you tell me anything, I mean is there anything I can do or watch for?..."
Just then Angela returned from the restroom, interrupting the conversation. It looked for a moment like Marty was going to continue to press him on the subject, but Peter seemed to use Angela's presence to deflect the conversation.
As Marty and Angela split off outside the bar, they both waved to Peter and the rest of the crew and started the walk back to Marty's place. It wasn't terribly cold outside, but the contrast to the interior was stark as they both adjusted their jackets for the half-hour stroll.
They were only a moment out of earshot when Angela said, "Wow, that one guy, Peter, he's is really, really good looking!"
Marty gave a small smile and looked at his sister. "Don't get too excited. I'd have liked to fix you up with him, but he's umm...he's not your type."
"I'm not asking for you to fix me up, you told me earlier that he was gay," she said with a laugh as she buttoned up her jacket against the cold air. "As cute as he is, I'm not sure he's my type anyway. I kind of like `em taller," she said, a bit embarrassed to be admitting something like that, even to her brother. "But he is a really hot guy, wow. You didn't mention that part."
Marty didn't strongly to the comment, but just replied in a nonchalant kind of way. "He's a great guy, a lot of fun, but he can talk seriously, too..." he said before she interjected.
"Nice guy...cute...great personality...hmmm...yup, gay all right!" She said, more as a statement than as a question.
Peter just shook his head and looked at her and laughed. "Is they how you apply the deductive reasoning that they teach you in college?
Folder her hands in front to make herself a little warmer, she laughed and answered, "Well, whatever it is, he does seem like a good guy. And by the way, he seemed to hear me just fine. But I did as you suggested, I tried to make sure I looked at him and favor his left side when I spoke."
"Yea, I think that went fine, you were great," he replied, then became more serious again. "I guess people think he really is gifted, I mean, with his looks and all, and he is to some extant. But I think the hearing is just one of his issues. He looks like he's in really great shape, but he can get winded really easily. Toward the end of a couple of our matches he could barely make it down the field."
"And he continues to play?" She asked, somewhat incredulous.
"Well, he tries. But this last match, it was too much. I literally had to threaten to drag him off the field. I hated doing it and I could tell how disappointed he was. He really wants to be able to do a lot of stuff but he can't. I'm not sure why, I want to ask him sometime, but he's evasive about it."
"I guess you can't blame him. You know how it is. People find stuff out and then they change, or think weird things."
"You don't have to tell me about that," he replied, resignation in his voice. She didn't need anything more to understand what he meant.
They continued walking silently for a few minutes, until Marty spoke up again. "You know, I'm not even sure how much good his looks do for him. I mean, people like handsome guys and all that, but he's seen the dark side of it too," he said, looking at nothing in particular but maintaining is view straight ahead.
"The first time I met him, his one housemates, who is also gay, was horsing around with him. He was trying to get him to brag about himself or at least talk some more about his accomplishments, especially his modeling gigs for Target."
"Modeling for Target! That's pretty impressive," she interrupted.
"Yea, it is, but it's not like it inspires all good attention," he said, getting back to his earlier point. "This roommate isn't a bad guy at all, and I actually think that they are kind of close. Yet he couldn't keep his hands off of him, and was feeling him up an every opportunity, which Peter clearly wasn't comfortable with," Marty said as he rolled his head in a disapproving way.
"I even noticed once in one of our games, Peter and this guy collided and they both fell on the ground. Well, this guy clearly copped a feel of his leg before Peter shoved him off. Then this guy goes and gives a high-five to one of his teammates, ostensibly to show how he almost took out one of our guys but I think for other reasons, too.
"It wasn't like Peter made a big fuss about it, but I think a lot of people treat him like that. Attention and all is nice, but that kind of interest probably gets old and annoying after a while."
"And besides," he continued, "I don't think he's the kind of person who even needs it. He's a pretty together guy, I'd say. No drama and all that kind of stuff. I think his mind is on more important things."
"Like what?" she asked, as much to gauge her brother's friendship with Peter as much as interest in Peter himself.
"Good and bad things, I think. He's really close with his family. He's got two older brothers who are married who he really likes. And, oh yea. He has two dads!"
She stopped for a moment in surprise as Marty then explained to her Peter's family tree, at least what he remembered from Peter's tour through the photos. Her only reply was `wow,' as they then continued on their walk through the brisk October air.
"But I think he faces and deals with the bad things, too," he continued, "I suspect he may have lots of health issues. Besides the hearing and shortness of breath I told you about before, he often arrives pretty tired, like he's not getting enough sleep or something. Those are the days he wears out the quickest on the pitch, too. He always fights it, but some of these things you can't win at."
She was surprised that he remembered these kinds of details and put together the behavior patterns, whether he was right or not. His whole interest was very curious, she thought.
"He does look just slightly gaunt, or thin, at least in the face," she answered, "I guess they like that lean look in modeling. Kind of chiseled and all, but maybe that's not necessarily a reflection of health," she said as they continued to stroll down the street and she noticed how beautiful the trees were with their fall colors.
"Hmmm,..." Marty answered, not having thought of Peter's features in that manner at all. Unlike her, he was still totally focused on the conversation and didn't seem to notice the trees at all, much to her amusement. "That would sort of make some sense, though I'm not sure what it all means together."
He paused for a moment, thinking to himself, and then continued. "Whatever is going on with him, I don't think most people realize what he has to deal with. He's obviously got some health issues, the hearing being the most conspicuous, but I don't think his real personality even registers with most people. You can tell a lot of folks just see him as nothing but a winner, but like I said, I don't think he thinks of himself that way at all. He just knows that there are more important things to deal with."
Angela was only in town for a day, but even in the short time she noticed changes in her brother. She couldn't exactly figure out what it was, but she did notice that he smiled a lot more during her whole visit, especially when he was with his team. Over the years he had grown into such a serious and focused guy, for reasons she knew all too well. He rarely let down his guard around outsiders, but these teammates seemed to really bring out a different side of him. Or, she thought to herself, an old part of him that now seemed to be re-emerging.
Maybe it was a girlfriend, she thought, but then dismissed that whole idea. The two were as close as a brother and sister could be, and she had no doubt that he would let her know if there was a special girl in his life. After all, as a self-confessed fiercely protective older brother, he was extremely interested in vetting the guys she dated.
Before she started college he told her that he had enjoyed his freshman year, but it was clear that he hadn't made many close friends. Now, suddenly, he had a whole tableau of them. Best of all, he seemed to have found a pretty good friend in Peter.
Except for her brother's usual intense interest in what was going on with her, especially how she was adjusting to college, he talked more about Peter than anyone or anything else during the visit. It surprised her that Peter was gay, since she wouldn't have suspected it at all by just talking to him. But she was even more surprised with her brother's seeming indifference to it, especially with their family background and circumstances.