BEN COLLIN'S POV
Why did I come here?' I asked myself as I sat next to Jeff in the dining hall. Oh I knew it was because my mother insisted and thought it would get me off the streets. Still, I didn't think it would come to any good. I still had to go back to the neighborhood and my friends', if you could call them that. It was an existence that in order to survive you had to be tough. It was an existence where friends were more like allies' that stuck together for self-preservation. Most of the guys I called friends I didn't even like and I knew they hung around with me because I was the baddest dude' on the block. It's not that I was the leader even if I was the toughest. I didn't want the job. It was easier not to have to think or to be responsible for the other guys. Oh, I would protect them, going after anyone who messed with any of the `bros', but it was without emotion, just a job without judgment about what they did to cause my intervention. I just followed the orders of Tyrone, our self appointed leader.
I'm not sure why we accepted Tyrone to lead us. He sure wasn't the toughest of our group. I guess it was because he seemed smarter than the rest of us, an impression that he seldom let us forget. We had a mixed group of eight guys that hung out together. It wasn't much of a gang' because we were so few, and we didn't mix it up with the real gangs' that often had 20 or more members. We just skirted along the LA gang fringes, keeping out of their way. We only acted tough against individuals, or small groups of two or three. We all went to the same school and lived in the same hood'. Most of us came from single-parent homes, or homes where the dad', if there was a real one, was a no account.' Most of our families' incomes came from welfare or food stamps, though my mom worked as a domestic', cleaning other people's houses. I had a little brother, Jessie, and a little sister, Cara, too; another reason to be tough. I learned to fight early and was good at it, though I had a few scars to remind me that there was always somebody who was bigger, badder or tougher.
In addition to Tyrone and me in our group that we called The Boyz', there were Ham' (short for Abraham), Ray, Jackson, T.C., Ricardo and Francis. Six of us were black, though our skin colors varied from very dark (Tyrone and Ray) to very light (T.C. and me). Ricardo was Cuban' though I'm sure his forefathers were not all Spanish as he was darker-skinned than either T.C. or me. Francis was the last and we jokingly called him our token honky', since, though his skin color was a bit darker than a northern European, he was blond and had the fairest' skin color of any of us. Of the eight of us, at least two of us were gay: Me, though I'd never admit it and would go after anyone who even hinted that I might be, and Francis. I knew that Francis was queer and so did everyone else, cause Francis was kinda wimpy and serviced the rest of us regularly when we'd get horny, which was all the time.
I was 6' tall, sprouting up early, and took good care of my body working out in the local boxing gym. I didn't like boxing much, but they let us hang out there and use the equipment in exchange for sweeping the place out now and then. The other guys worked out too, but not with the passion that I did. Francis worked out the least and wasn't too strong, but often was there with us, spotting, or doing some light exercises. Since we often hung out there late, Tom, the manager of the place would let us lock up after everyone was gone. He told us that if we ever left the place unlocked, that we'd be `history' and would lose the use of the gym. Even though he was really a nice guy we knew that he meant what he said, so we were really careful about that.
I guess I was pretty good looking too. At least that's what I was told. I mean the girls hung around me and so did some guys if I let them. Most of the time I just scared off any prospects for sex, because of my tough-guy attitude. That's why Francis was so handy.
We didn't vary in age much. Tyrone was 17 and Francis was 14, but the rest of us were either 15 or 16. I was the oldest, except for Tyrone. I thought we made a pretty good looking group, though Ham earned his nickname not only as an abbreviation, but as a description. I guess you could call him a Porker'. He liked to eat more than doing almost any other thing and could really pack it away, given the opportunity.
As for my being gay, I could barely admit that to myself. I didn't want to be gay, and I wasn't gonna be, if I had my way. I made it a point to belittle Francis when we were just in our group, and I did the same to other guys we'd run into that acted faggy'. More than the other guys, I really craved the sucking and fucking that was Francis' calling card. I just never let on and called him all kinds of names as I fucked his mouth or his ass. Inside I knew I wanted to hug him and be affectionate, but I couldn't let anyone know that. I even fucked the neighborhood female ho' once, just to establish my image as a straight, tough `mutha'.
Like most gangs, we acted tough (except in the presence of a `real' gang), caused trouble in school, and had committed our share of petty crimes. Fortunately, we'd never been caught doing anything illegal, but had often been warned about our bad attitudes and lack of achievements at school. Most of those warnings just rolled off our backs like water off the back of a duck. The one exception I made to accepting criticism, though reluctantly, was when it came from the lips of my mother. I had a deep respect for the self-less dedication she displayed in trying to raise us kids. Then too there was the fear I felt when she would get angry at me. She worked her fingers to the bone providing for us, but was no one to mess with. My biggest nightmare was not that I'd be caught by school security or the cops, but that my mother would find out. The thought of it made me break out in a sweat.
It was this tough lady that made me come to this fucking camp. I mean, it was nice enough. Hell it was as nice as or nicer than where I lived. It's just that it was different and I wanted to be with my `bros' and continue getting my rocks off three or four times a week with Francis.
Now I was sitting next to my Cabin Counselor, Jeff. He was a hunk, even though he was a honky! Earlier, I had mixed it up with one of the other "cabin" mates in order to establish that I was gonna be the leader, at least in our cabin, when Jeff had butted in. I'd tried my intimidation routine with him and he wasn't having it. Even though I was a bit bigger than him, there was something about him that told me that he could kick my ass if he really wanted to.
As we confronted each other, I could feel a stirring in my jeans. Normally in a confrontation, sex was the last thing on my mind. With Jeff, it had the opposite effect. I don't know whether it was the realization that he could take' me or if it was because he was so gorgeous, but whatever the reason I decided it was prudent to back down. I thought the incident was closed and I could vanish' from his attention until he sat down beside me at our first dinner meal. I received a few frowns of disapproval from the other guys from our cabin, but if Jeff noticed, he didn't say anything. At first I was reluctant to open my mouth, but he talked to me like our confrontation had never happened. Pretty soon I opened up and began responding to his inquiries and comments, being careful not to expose my inner self too much. He was witty and soon had me laughing. I felt a sudden closeness that disturbed me. For some reason I found that I wanted him to like me. It was more than just sexual attraction; I found that I wanted him to be my friend. When the meal was nearing completion, I asked if we could talk privately. I knew I wanted to apologize for my earlier attitude, but other than that I wasn't sure what I'd say to him. When he agreed to meet with me after finishing our meal, I was happy, yet somewhat fearful. What if I told him too much and he hated me for it? I was full of apprehension as we stood up from eating and headed to the area where we turned in our dirty dishes. On the way he stopped to talk to his friend as I went on. I guess he was explaining that he'd be with me for awhile.
I looked at his friend. He was as cute as Jeff though not as muscular. Damn! Between the two of them I had plenty of visions for fantasizing when I finally found a place and time to relieve my aching balls and my dick that was becoming partially plumped up.
"Come over here Ben," Jeff said as I returned from dumping my dishes. "I'd like you to meet my friend Chris."
We exchanged greetings, shaking hands. For some reason I felt instantly accepted by them both, though at first I think Chris was as surprised as I was that Jeff introduced us.
"I'll go get rid of these dishes and then meet you outside," Jeff said to me after the pleasantries were done.
"Catch ya later Chris," he continued as he turned toward the kitchen dishwashing area.
"I'll be in or near my cabin," Chris replied to Jeff before turning to me. "Nice meeting you Ben."
"Thanks," I replied. "It was nice meeting you too."
Though not speaking any further, Chris and I headed for the entry door. Outside, I stopped on the big wood-floored porch to wait for Jeff, while Chris with a wave, headed off toward his cabin. A couple of minutes later Jeff appeared.
"Where would you like to go to talk?" Jeff asked.
"I don't care, so long as it's warm. When the sun went down it cooled off a bit and I'm a bit chilly," I replied.
"Hmm," Jeff said thinking aloud. "Maybe we could find a private unused spot in the Crafts Building. If not I guess we could go back to my room in the cabin."
"I'd prefer the Crafts," I replied. "I'm not sure I'd want to be seen disappearing into your room with you."
"I understand, I think," Jeff concurred. "It might raise some questions with the other campers that we could both do without."
"Yeah."
"Let's go then and check out the Crafts Building. Maybe we could find an unused corner or an empty room that we could use," said Jeff as he began the walk to the building on the other side of the one holding the administration offices. Upon arrival Jeff tried one of the doors only to find it locked. Looking inside through the door's window, he saw someone and knocked.
In a few moments the door opened to reveal a lady I recognized from the introductions earlier in the day.
"Ms. McDermott?" Jeff said to the lady. "I'm Jeff Richards the Counselor of Cabin 9 and this is Ben Collins, one of the campers from my cabin. I was wondering if there was anywhere in this building where I could talk privately with Ben. It's rather cool outside and my cabin isn't very private."
"It's nice to meet you both," Sarah said with a smile. "I was about to go, but if you promise to close the door when you're finished talking and leave, you can use this building. Anywhere is alright. When you leave, the doors will self-lock if they are pulled firmly closed."
"I can assure you that everything will be locked up tight when we're finished," Jeff promised.
"Fine, then come on in," she said pushing the door wide open.
Jeff and I entered the building and looked around. It appeared that about a third of the one story building was a single room and full of crafts tables and stools, and the remaining 2/3s was made up of other crafts rooms, and along one side, restrooms.
"I'll leave now," Sarah said. "You can stay as long as you wish, just make sure everything is locked when you depart."
"Thanks again Ms. McDermott," Jeff said with a smile that was spectacular enough to make the average female faint, or the average gay male spring a stiffy."
Sarah McDermott left and the outside door swung closed and we could hear the latch snap as it engaged.
"There are a couple of stools here," I said as I stepped up to a nearby crafts table.
Jeff joined me and we both took our seats on the stools surrounding the solid wood- topped table.
"What would you like to talk about Ben?" Jeff inquired as he put one hand on the table.
"Well," I began slowly. "I guess first I wanted to apologize for being an ass in the commons area a while ago."
"I think your apology should go first to the camper you were squabbling with," Jeff responded. "I could be wrong, but it appeared that you were the aggressor."
"I don't owe him anything," I said defensively but without much thought. "He's just a nerdy wimp and needed to be taught who was boss."
"Oh?" Jeff said. "You were explaining my role in our cabin?"
"Uh... no...I was..." I was stumped as to what to reply. I couldn't reveal my true intentions without making myself out to be a bully."
"Wrong?" Jeff asked.
I looked sheepishly at the floor, thinking about what had transpired earlier.
"Yeah, I guess," I admitted.
"You guess?" Jeff asked, challenging my sincerity.
"I ...know," I responded, deciding that I might as well go all the way. "Okay, I'll apologize to him, either tonight if he's around, or if not, first thing in the morning."
"In that case," Jeff said smiling, "I accept your apology. We can start off again with no hard feelings. I'd like to give you a word of caution though. Everyone makes mistakes. It's okay if it happens occasionally. It's only human. Then we have to learn to live with the consequences. However, it's not okay to make the same mistake twice. To do so means that we didn't learn anything the first time."
"I get the picture," I said, acknowledging his advice. "I'll stay out of trouble."
"You may think that being domineering or threatening makes people look up to you, but it really doesn't. It makes people want to stay away from you. You can't make friends if everyone is trying to stay away."
"It's not likely that I'll make friends here anyway. Hell, I don't even have any real friends at home."
"My guess," Jeff continued, "is that inside of that tough, hard exterior is a Ben Collins who really is a nice guy. I'd guess too, that Ben is afraid to show that kind and good side of himself because he thinks that people will consider him a weak person."
"Hey, I'm not weak!" I challenged.
"Who's the stronger?" Jeff retorted. "Is it the guy who is small in stature and who faces life and its disasters and inequalities with inner strength and with a smile, or the tough guy that takes out his frustrations and insecurities by terrorizing younger and smaller people? You don't need to answer. I think you know who the real hero is. For me it's the guy who controls his anger and frustrations and is brave enough to walk away from a fight that has no purpose. He's not a coward. In my book, he's a young guy taking giant leaps toward being an adult."
"I'd bet that the guys watching me backing down instead of fighting you now think I'm the coward," I said.
"If so, it's because they're not wise," Jeff responded. "I think you showed wisdom. You see, and I don't tell this to everyone" he continued, "I'm a karate black belt. I'm good at it and have no doubt that I could have taken you down easily. But instead of being proud, I'm ashamed of myself for even letting the situation degenerate into a physical confrontation. Knowing I could take you out should have been enough to allow me to control myself. Instead I reacted to you with violence even if it was defensive, which in my book is a sign of my own immaturity. I should have handled the situation better so that violence wasn't necessary. If I had actually taken you down, I'd have quit my job and left in shame even if everyone wanted me to stay. You saved me that embarrassment. Thank you."
"Don't thank me," I said. "I think you did what was right. It's more likely that I would have continued the fight if you had just handled me with reason, rather than flipping my ass on the ground. At first I really thought that I might have been able to kick your ass, but then, from my viewpoint on the ground, I had doubts. Now I can see that I would have eaten more than a little dirt if we'd fought. I have no class or training. I'm just a dirty street fighter."
"Well, we both made mistakes," Jeff countered. "I think we can learn from the experience and become friends."
"Are you sure you want to be friends with me?" I asked in amazement.
"Yes," Jeff said with a smile, "and your cabin mates will too once they get to know the real you; the good guy that I see inside you."
"You're wrong!" I argued. "I'm just a street punk. I pick on younger and weaker guys and laugh at their fear of me."
"That was the `old' you," Jeff replied gently. "It's not the real you. The real you wants to be liked and admired, not because you're the meanest, but because you're the best."
"No one ever thought I was best," I continued arguing, "Not even my momma, and she's the only one who thought I might have a chance to become anything more than a hood. I sure as hell don't think I'm best!"
"Well, I do," Jeff countered to my reply. "I think you have unlimited potential if you'd just go after it the right way. You have still not gotten into so much trouble that you can't be what you dream to be. It's not too late!"
"I don't know where to begin," I said dejectedly with a tear in my eye.
"You start here and now," Jeff replied. "Be the person you want to be, and to hell with what others think. If people treat you badly, treat them good. I assure you it will confuse the hell out of `em!"
He laughed, and I couldn't help but join in as the image of the confusion he espoused stuck in my brain.
"You know, you have a very nice smile," complimented Jeff. "You need to show it more often. People cannot help but like a guy who is always smiling a genuine smile. They want to get close to you to find out why you're happy; hoping some of it will rub off on them."
"I guess this is where I'm supposed to say thank you', so I will. Thank you.' As for the other thing, I don't smile much," I admitted.
"That needs to change," he said. "Smiles are contagious. You should smile, at least now, whether you feel like it or not. You'll find that soon you'll have real reasons to smile."
"You make it sound so easy," I said, "but there's a lot you don't know about me."
"I'm here and I'm listening," Jeff replied.
For the next 30 minutes I told him about my family, my life and most things about myself, including `the Boyz.' I didn't tell him about my thoughts about being gay though. I just couldn't admit to it yet. He listened attentively, only interrupting if he didn't understand something that I told him. He waited patiently for me to finish, without comment. At last I was finished, concluding with, "and now here I am, at this dam..." I looked at him and saw that he knew what I was about to say. I finished with something different than what had almost slipped out, "...wonderful camp."
He grinned, knowing that I'd taken his earlier advice to heart.
"Ben," he began slowly. "I know from what you've told me, that life is difficult for you now. Yet you have a loving mother who wants the best for you. You have a brother and sister who look up to you. You can change the direction you're heading. You're bright, but don't want anyone to know. Screw those who want to drag you down! Show them that you're strong and smart. If they don't like it, it's their loss! You'll make new friends who are worth more than they'll ever be."
"It sounds too good to be true," I said. "I can almost believe you."
"Take my word, as your first new friend, that you can be what you want to be," he said convincingly.
I sat back, the thoughts of potential happiness and success flowing through my mind. Then the bombed dropped onto my elation.
"What if I told you something that would make you hate me," I said.
"I doubt if that would happen," Jeff replied, "but I suppose it's possible. You didn't kill anybody did you?"
I smiled at his not too ridiculous question.
"No. It's nothing like that. It's just that normal people hate people like me."
"Because you're black?" he asked.
"Nah," I replied, "I mean a few people might be prejudiced that way, but they don't bother me. If I can believe my momma, and I do, being black is not so impossible now as it was even not too many years ago. I can handle that."
"Do you deal drugs or are you a terrorist?" he tried again.
"Nah that stuff is for losers."
"I guess you have me stumped then," Jeff replied. "I can't think of anything else that could possibly make me hate you."
"You forgot one biggie," I responded, putting off admitting my innermost secret.
"You're a girl?" Jeff asked, faking shock.
I laughed, in spite of the rock I felt in my stomach.
"No," I answered back still with a giggle in my voice, "and I've got the dick to prove it."
Jeff laughed.
"I guess you're just going to have to tell me," Jeff said giving up. "I can't think of a single other thing that would make me even dislike you, much less hate you."
"What do you think of ...Gays?" I blurted out, finally broaching the subject.
Jeff paused for a moment with no telltale expression on his face before replying.
"First I'll say that what you just inferred doesn't shock me," he said thoughtfully. "Let me ask you a question. What do you think of Gays?"
"I hate them," I replied with vehemence. Calming down after a moment, I confessed in a soft voice reflecting the great sadness in my heart. "That's why I hate myself."
I could see that Jeff was a bit surprised, but what followed was entirely different than what I expected.
"Do you hate me Ben?" he asked.
"No, of course not," I quickly answered, not really realizing what he was implying.
"Why?" he asked.
"Why? I don't know. It's just that you have everything going for you. You're cute, you dress well, you're manly, you're obviously smart, and heck for all I know you might have money. The biggest reason though is that you're a cool guy. You treat people well, even hoods like me."
Jeff smiled.
"Ben, you just described me as you see me. You said a lot of nice things, and I assume that you meant it. I'll repeat your own statement: You've forgotten one biggie."
Suddenly I knew what he was saying!
"You're gay?" I gasped.
"I'll tell you in a minute," he promised, "but first I want you to think of all the things that you said when you described me. There was not one thing you said about my sexual preference, Gay or Straight! It seems to me that you admired me and found good things in me without the thought of my sexuality. Think of that! What makes you a good guy, or a guy that can be admired, has very little to do with your sexual proclivities. You're a good guy if you're a good guy... Period!"
I sat back. For the second time in that last hour I was at a complete loss for words. Finally I cleared my throat and tried to express the myriad of thoughts swirling through my brain.
"I'm not sure what to say," I began. "To say I'm surprised is a huge understatement! But even that is overtaken by what you had to say about being a good person. Between my aggressive, bullying approach to my shitty condition and the turmoil caused in my mind from even being considered gay, I've been at a complete loss as to how to proceed with my life. It all looks so hopeless that I've even thought more than once about suicide. Now you've given me a new perspective and new way of thinking. I'm knocked on my ass, except this time not physically, and I guess I'll just have to chew on it for a while before I swallow it."
"I think that's wise," Jeff replied with a warm smile. "I just want you to give it a try and know that I'll be here for you if you would like to talk some more. Now, let's go back to our cabin, it's getting late."
We arose from the chairs where we had been seated and Jeff drew me to him, giving me a warm hug. I was surprised but pleased, realizing suddenly that I felt better about myself than I had in years. I followed Jeff, my new friend, toward the door to the outside, passed by him into the night as he held the door open for me, then paused as he too stepped outside and made certain that the door to the building was locked.
JEFF'S POV
"Catch ya later," I said to Ben as we approached our cabin. "I'm gonna stop over to see my friend Chris now because it's getting late. Remember, you're a new guy now, but it's going to take a while for others to believe it."
Ben nodded, a look of determination on his face. I wished him luck. I knew I could help him at camp, but the real test would come when he returned home.
My footsteps veered away from the path to my cabin and pointed toward Chris'. I looked at my watch and realized that two hours had passed since Ben and I had left the chow hall. There was only about an hour remaining before lights-out and I needed to spend a few minutes at least with my cabin guys before then. Reaching for the door to Chris' cabin I pulled the screen door open and stepped inside. I saw Chris sitting on one of the camper's beds engaged in conversation with all eight of his campers who were gathered around on nearby beds He saw me enter, and with a dip of his head acknowledged my presence.
"It's really cool getting to know you guys," Chris said to the group. "There's only an hour left before lights-out so if any of you are going to shower, now's the time. I recommend it. The wind direction tells me that a couple of you are pretty gamy."
He held his nose as his campers laughed.
"Before we split up, I'd like to introduce you to my friend and our neighbor from next door, Jeff Richards."
I waved at the guys, thanking Chris.
"Nice to meet ya," I said. "I'm sure that we'll meet often in games and competition, but I hope that doesn't keep you guys from becoming friends with me and my guys."
There were a few waves back, more grins and some murmured greetings. It looked like Chris had a cabin full of winners.
"Okay `Po's'," Chris continued with a genuine smile. "I'm gonna be away with Jeff for a few. Don't get too wet. You might melt." I could see that Chris was thoroughly enjoying being a camp counselor. I wasn't so sure about me. My meeting with Ben had left me emotionally drained, yet apprehensive.
"Let's take a walk," Chris suggested, grabbing a jacket and slipping it on over a sweat shirt.
"Sure," I agreed as we headed for the outside door, "but I'll need to stop at my cabin and get a coat. It cools off pretty fast up here in the evening."
We headed for my cabin and entered. Inside, seven of the guys were grouped together facing Ben. It appeared that they were having a lively discussion. It was obvious that some of them were pissed.
"Look," Ben said with open hands, "I'm trying to tell you that I'm sorry for being an ass. I wanted to apologize to Sammy privately, but you guys wouldn't let me."
"I'm not sure we want you in the same cabin with us," Jon, the biggest of the other campers challenged.
I could see that it was time for my intervention, so I stepped over to the group, getting in between Ben and John.
"Are we having a problem Gentlemen?" I asked.
"This dickhead thinks that all he has to do is say he's sorry for what he did to Sammy and you, and everything will be forgotten," Jon said. "Once a dickhead, always I dickhead I say."
"That's an interesting philosophy Jon," I said. "You're saying that you've never made a mistake and asked to be forgiven?"
"I didn't say that," Jon said defensively, "but Ben here has had a chip on his shoulder from the minute we all first met him. He thinks he's the top dog and was willing to fight to prove it."
Ben looked down with a beaten look, knowing that there was truth in the statement.
"I think you have it wrong," I stated. "I think Ben was trying to tell you that he's changed. I'm sure what you just stated was true. Are so you so sure it's still true? The last I heard Ben was saying that he was sorry. Ben has apologized to me, and I've accepted it and am willing to give him another chance. I think he's asking the same of Sam and of all of you too. Are you all men enough to accept his apology?"
"I am," Sammy said stepping forward and extending his hand to Ben. Ben took it and shook it, saying with sincerity, "Thanks Sammy."
"Well, if Sammy can, I guess I can too," Jon said, reluctantly offering his hand, which Ben took, giving it a grateful shake.
"Thanks Jon," Ben repeated with a grateful smile.
The other five boys stepped up, also offering their hands. Once the last one had finished I spoke up.
"I'm proud of you all," I said smiling. "We'll have a great time together. Now I'd like you to meet my friend Chris. He's the Counselor of our neighbors next door, the Polar Bears. I know that we'll be competing against them during our camping, and I expect us to win," I continued with wink at Chris, "but we can compete and still be friends."
"Hi guys," Chris said smiling. "I'm impressed with you. I hope that Jeff is wrong about your kicking our butts in competition, but I can promise you that we'll give you a good run for the money."
My guys said "Hi, nice to meet ya" or acknowledged the introduction with a wave of the hand.
"Chris and I are going outside for a while until lights out. If any of you need to shower, you'd better do it soon because `lights-out' is in about 45 minutes. We'll catch you later."
I backed way, stepped to my room and retrieved my jacket. When I returned to the main room I saw that Chris had already gone outside. I exited the cabin with a wave to a camper or two who had looked my way.
"I thought that went well," Chris complimented me.
"I was afraid I might have to step in," I admitted. "I was pretty sure that Ben started out antagonizing the others."
"How did your talk with him go? It appears that you got your point across."
"It was good. He's in a tough situation in his neighborhood, and his mom is struggling to support Ben and his two siblings alone. She sounds like quite a lady, and I'm sure Ben respects her."
"That's a good start," Chris agreed. "How are his friends?"
"Personally, I think the `friends' are the problem. They hang out in a small gang and do things that none of them alone would probably consider. I'm not sure what to do about that."
"Well, you can take it up with him during the next couple of weeks," Chris suggested. "It looks like the first job, of getting him accepted here, is well on its way."
"Yes, I'm encouraged," I said, "but it's a bit of a shock for me to hear what it's like in his neighborhood. I guess I've just been sheltered."
"Yes, it's a different world when you come down off of our hill. Even as tough as I had it, it's still better than the way some of these kids have to live," Chris observed.
As we talked, we strolled down the slope toward the lake. Finally arriving there, we sat down on the small dock serving the camp, dangling our legs over the edge with our feet just above the water.
"It's beautiful here," Chris said. "I'm glad we came."
"I can tell you Babe, that it's a different experience for me," I admitted as I slipped my arm around Chris' shoulder.
"I think we'll both be better men because of it," Chris concluded.
"You know? It's kinda nice not being `Super Jeff' here," I said. "I can just be Jeff, the Counselor. I think your idea of not driving my dad's Mercedes was the start toward shedding that image."
"To me you'll always be SJ," Chris said as he reached over and took my other hand. "Before I met you, I was in awe of you. Now I know that I was not wrong. It's just that now I know the Jeff inside, not just your outward looks and demeanor."
"I wish you wouldn't say those things," I said. "I feel like you put me on a pedestal that I don't deserve. I'm not sure I can live up to those kinds of expectations."
"That's what I'm telling you Silly," Chris explained. "I used to admire you just based on your looks and reputation and at first I was overawed by your house and things. Now that I really know you, I love you, not because of those looks or your things or even because it makes me look good being with you, but because you're a genuinely good guy."
"I'll try not to disappoint you," I promised. "You've come to mean so much to me. I love you too and now can't even imagine being without you."
"I still can't understand what you see in me," Chris said, "but I thank the Lord that you do."
"When we met, I didn't plan on falling in love with you," I replied, "It just happened, and it's given me a whole new perspective of life."
He squeezed my hand. His eyes told me more than his words could ever express.
"Well, I guess we'd better get back to our `bears,'" I said standing and pulling Chris up with me. I wrapped both my arms around him and pulled him in close. In a soft voice I asked, "How about a little kiss to tide me over until we can be alone again?"
"My pleasure, Big Guy. My pleasure," Chris murmured as our lips touched.