Reed 'em and weep - next chapter

By Charley Reed

Published on Oct 10, 2024

Gay

Friday 11 July 2008

Song of the Day: Coldplay -- Viva la Vida

Drinks with Antony happened but were a bit of a mixed bag, we did sundowners and it was a fairly quiet and early night up at The Waiting Room down on Long Street in town. They have that really nice balcony on the third floor of their building overlooking the strip, and a few tables on the roof to enjoy the evening air, but it was a bit brisk for that being the bleak midwinter and all. Still, it's a great place to hang out, to people-watch, and just enjoy the vibe of town.

As for the big guy... It was a different vibe from him than I usually get, which was a bit unexpected. Bit of an awkward start, if I'm honest, trying to find something to chat in depth about since our interests are very different, but we persisted. He's still effortlessly cool, no surprises there, infinitely hip and super-stylish as always despite needing a haircut, wearing a pair of old jeans and an oversized jersey and his glasses instead of contact lenses, and looking very dreamy. But in an unusual twist of events he's panicking a little over varsity, which is a bit of a shift in our dynamic. He's trying to get into Medicine at the second attempt, and this is the Hail Mary and Last Chance Saloon, and it's proving difficult.

He's always been pretty blasé about the academic side of life when asked, and I thought he had a pretty good handle on it all. But now things are different, since he didn't do as well as he'd have liked in the recent exams, and it's clear there is some pressure from the `rentals. He was pretty up-front about how freaked out he is about it, which I think is a fairly rare show of vulnerability given we don't know each other that well. I mean, a big, buff sporty guy getting all emo with li'l ol' me? I'd probably have been more flippant about it, kinda "well, guess I have work to do, so I'd better get on with it" kinda thing, never exposing a soft underbelly, but he was pretty open about the nerves he has around it, which was totally not what I thought would ever happen.

I'm not complaining. It was kinda cute, kinda tender; he didn't really make eye contact at the start when he opened up, but as he warmed up he got better about it, flicking his hair out of his face with a toss of his head as he went along - presumably so he could see me better because that's what I'm telling myself - and looking very cool doing that, his dark enigmatic eyes ripping deep into my soul as he poured his heart out onto the table next to my Tequila Sunrise.

I've volunteered to help him with his Physics where I can since I aced it, but I'm not sure I did well enough in the rest to help out beyond that. He had applied to UCT Medical School originally and had failed to get in -- most of the guys in my classes did, if I'm honest, me included; bet you didn't know that -- and is hoping to transfer into it next year if he gets good enough marks this year. Again, that is the plan of most of my class; probably only two or three will manage, though, since you need pretty much distinctions and straight A+ marks for every subject you take to make the switch. So that's the plan, follow in the family tradition and get into a medical programme.

I get the feeling this might be a bit more non-negotiable than he might like, and this and might have not actually been what he wished for himself, if you got him drunk and asked him. I'm also pretty sure that not getting in at the first attempt was not well-received at home, and he is already on the back foot somewhat.

But there's another bigger problem - if you were clever, you see, you didn't register for a BSc when you didn't get into Med School; you registered for a BA in psychology or philosophy or classics or something like that, one of the courses which relies on eloquence and argument with essay-type assignments and exams in first year, and which is theoretically a whole lot easier for a bright guy or gal to score high marks in if you can retain detailed information and coherently bring it together to argue a point. You absolutely don't register for a BSc where you need to be on top of the cold, hard maths and science which abound, and which in turn rely on having a very, VERY good grasp of university-level material in order to get great marks in. So you have to play it smart before you start... which is also a double-edged sword, because if you don't get into medicine after registering for classics and philosophy you probably have to switch courses anyway, otherwise you're stuck with a degree you absolutely cannot use here in .za to any great effect.

Anyway, I'll give him what assistance I can since I am currently making Physics my bitch. I would totally let him make me his bitch, just saying, I'd gently move his long fringe out his face while he ploughed me and I cropped. Don't look at me like that, it's a line from Shakespeare, from... Antony and Cleopatra, so it's even relevant and all.

Pity he and I aren't prac partners as well, because then I'd get to spend tons of time with him instead of just tidbits here and there, and enjoy getting lost in his soulful chocolatey eyes. I'd be his African queen any day of the week, even though I doubt we have any Egyptian in our lineage whatsoever. Whatever, I tan up well enough, I'll make it work!

Is that me being racist, sexist, both or neither? Note to self...

As I mentioned earlier, that part is my own fault for not being more out-there and engaging. I will pledge to be better mates with the guys who are keen to do so -- Varsity Trevor, my beloved Antony, Paolo and Colin and others from the football team. I will make sure I get more intimate with all of them -- not fucky-fucky intimate (although... sigh), but just make that jump from class/lab/team-mates to actually sharing experiences and more private details like our hopes and dreams and stuff. Okay, this is starting to sound like an interview on Oprah. But you know what I mean. I wonder if one of them will get the short straw and be The First To Find Out. Ideally that would be one of my old mates, Ben and co., but I might try it on with someone else first to gauge a reaction. We'll see what happens there.

Of course now I also wonder what Antony will say. I mean, he'll find out eventually too, right?

Anyway, I'm digressing. It was a pretty quiet night, Antony and I kinda ran out of stuff to talk about at one point and ended up calling time on it reasonably early rather than having it turn awks. Just as well, The Waiting Room is not a cheap'n'cheerful kinda joint like I am used to and so, aside from this, nights out are becoming a touch expensive. I'll likely need to think about retaining an extra couple of waitering shifts per month even after the vac finishes to not completely break the bank going forwards. Ugh, customers. Can't live with them, can't stab them. Not legally, anyway, and they are kinda necessary if indeed I want to go out and about with this level of regularity, so... yeah. That said, he's not actually that easy to talk to, it turns out, we don't have a huge amount in common once we stop talking about class stuff, which kinda sucks. And makes him difficult to get to the next level with too, right, if you can't keep a conversation going. Perhaps he was just a bit self-conscious after opening up and felt a bit wary, I dunno. Guess I'll find out while we're tutoring each other. I did text him this morning, his reply seemed cheerful enough, so hopefully that's all it was.

So, classes start again on Monday, football starts the following Monday -- we've scheduled a practice for next week Thursday -- and I am going to be better at All Things Social. Not necessarily reverting to being Flyweight Charley, mind, because that was a fuck-up in all respects, but there have got to be other methods to bludgeon your way into everyone else's consciousness. So that's the plan.

Anyway... Onward! -C

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