Tripod Chapter 44
The following story is a work of erotic fiction. If you are under the age of 18 or if this type of fiction is prohibited in the location where you are reading this, do not read any further.
All characters and names are creations of the author. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental.
Please show your support for Nifty, a great organization that gives opportunities to all types of authors to express themselves. To find out how you can contribute, go to donate.nifty.org/donate.html
Please send comments to cagey507@gmail.com and I will reply as soon as I can. This is my first work of fiction and I welcome any and all comments.
If you would like to be notified each time a new chapter is published, please email me and you will be added to the distribution list.
All rights reserved. ©2023 Jay Gilbert
Tripod -- Chapter 44
"Are you fucking kidding me??!!" Darius screamed when we video-chatted on Sunday night. "They literally tased Eddie without even as much as saying anything? Is he gonna be OK?"
"Yeah, he's fine. Just got scared shitless. I mean, can you blame him? Remember at the Halloween party when the cops busted in and pointed the gun right at him? It was so fucked up. He's the nicest, smartest, most honest guy I've ever met. And he keeps having weapons pointed at him. Anyway, how was the trip home?"
"A lot better than the trip up. Since you go through U. S. immigration and customs in Toronto before you get on the plane, it was smooth sailing at O'Hare. We only had carry-ons, so we made it out of the airport in a flash. We were home in less than an hour from when we landed."
"And how was the party?"
"It was amazing. My dad's younger brother married an Italian-Canadian woman. The party was at this incredible Italian place in Toronto's Little Italy. The assistant manager Stefano was a real snack. We were definitely checking each other out. Anyhow, he explained that they bring in Italian cooks from all over Italy to make their stuff. They have a couple of grandmas from Puglia who make orecchiette, focaccia and panzerotti. Their pizzas are made by these guys that they brought in from Naples. They've got this lamb stew thing called pecora al cotturo that I'd never heard of, but it was insanely good. Iranians love lamb, so I guess my aunt just wanted a dish to make that side of the family happy. Jaime, you would have thought you'd fucking died and gone to heaven. I was stuffed when we finally left to go back to our hotel at midnight.
"The next day we had lunch at my uncle's house. About fifteen people. Persian food. Dude, you can get good Persian food in Chicago but this was off-the-charts good. Better than either of my grandmas can make. I won't bore you with all the details but there's no way I'm making my weight at wrestling practice this week."
"You get lucky at the hotel?" I asked.
"Nah, small gym. No locker room. Just worked out and went back to my room. Plenty of hot guys but I really didn't have much free time anyway. And no one could compare to my hottest-guy-ever anyway. What about you?" Darius inquired.
"I've gotten no action from the other guys either. Everyone's been busy. I'm horny and I miss you. It'll be two weeks since we last saw each other."
"So, you wanna come over for dinner on Friday night, then we can either take in a flick or stay home and fuck?" Darius asked.
"That last option sounds great. I'm not heading back to a movie theater any time soon. Hey, when do you think you'll start hearing from the schools you've applied to?"
"This is the last week of February, so I should start hearing in the next few weeks. All the schools have to let you know by April 1," Darius responded.
"Poor Eddie won't hear about the MIT waitlist until mid-May. That's torture. He and Tyler have applied all over the country just to cover their bases. Brandon's been really tight-lipped. He said he'll let us know if and when he gets in somewhere. Honestly, the kid's a lot smarter than I ever gave him credit for and his grades and test scores aren't bad either. I'm sure he'll get in somewhere."
"Speaking of getting in somewhere," Darius noted, "I've got a hole here that would love to get filled."
Darius stood up and took off his t-shirt in a single motion, revealing his massive pecs sprinkled with dark hair. Then he seductively turned around and dropped his jeans. His boxer briefs hugged his butt, but it was only seconds before his underwear dropped to the floor revealing his fine, furry, muscled melons. Darius leaned over and spread his cheeks.
By now, my dick was straining uncomfortably inside my jeans. I stood up and slid them off letting Darius see that my cock was already testing the resistance of my underwear up by my right hip, tenting it out absurdly.
He turned back around to show me his rock-hard dick, jutting out eight inches (20cm) from his tight wrestler's body.
"Fuck yeah! Take it out. Now let me see yours!" he begged.
I slowly peeled the elastic of my undies down to reveal just the cockhead. Darius licked his lips and grabbed his cock. Little by little, my massive missile slithered out of its silo until it stood out 11" (28cm), fully unleashed at ninety degrees from my crotch.
"Oh, God, yeah! What a body! What a cock! Who would ever imagine all this when they look at that sweet baby face? Stroke it for me, baby," Darius moaned as he spit into his right hand and slicked up his dick.
"Look what you've done to me. You make me so hot," I said as I grabbed my cock with both hands and fucked the tunnel that they formed. "I can't wait until you go down on it. Can't wait to kiss you. Show me your hole again."
Darius turned around and grabbed his ankles; he's surprisingly flexible for not being a gymnast. As he leaned over, his hairy, tight pucker came into full view, causing my cock to jump in my hands. He pushed his dick down between his legs so that I could see the Holy Trinity, his cock, balls, and hole, all at the same time. What a show! Then, without warning, he shoved a slicked-up finger into his hole and started moaning as he stroked his cock with his other hand.
"You like what you see?" he asked.
"Fuck yeah!" I responded as pre-cum started to drip from the monster. "I want in that hole so bad. And I want your cock in mine just as bad."
I grabbed the laptop where we'd been video chatting and brought it over to the bed, placing it beside my body as I lay down. Inspired by Darius, I stuck a finger up my hole as I stroked myself with my right hand.
Darius lay down on his bed too, putting the laptop by his side giving me a full view.
"Can you feel me, baby? That's my dick up your hole," he said. "Hitting all the right spots. Suck your dick for me. It gets me off every time."
He didn't have to ask again. I threw my legs over my head, being careful to make sure that Darius could see on camera what I was doing. With a couple of fingers furiously fucking my ass, I aimed my dick right into my mouth and got about half of it deep into my throat.
Darius let out a moan. I could see by his expression just how turned on he was. He did the same for me, flipping his legs up and pointing the head of his dick at his open mouth.
"Can you lick it for me? Let me see you try, you stud," I commanded.
Darius made a concerted effort and managed to get the tip of his tongue swirling around his cockhead.
"Oh, God. That's it. I'm gonna cum," I screamed after pulling my dick from my mouth and taking in Darius's show. "Watch this!"
I was so turned on by seeing what Darius was doing that I shot ten times with each blast landing in my mouth. I could actually hear and feel the force of the cum hitting my tongue.
"Oh, fuuuuck!!" Darius moaned as he blew his load, too. His aim wasn't quite as good as mine, blasting jet after jet of jizz into his mouth, onto his face and into his hair.
About five seconds after he came, Darius turned to the camera and said, "This isn't exactly the most comfortable position in the world, but God, was that hot. What a fucking mess! I got spunk all over the place. No one can make me cum like you do, Jaime. You're my fantasy come true. And there's no one I'd rather just hang out with, you know. Finding someone I can actually have a real, intelligent conversation with. You're amazing."
"Look who's talking, Mr. Scholar-Athlete-Sex God. My heart literally starts thumping in my chest every time I see you. And you really impressed me just now. I gave you a challenge and you did amazing. That was so hot to watch."
"And pretty tasty, too," he laughed. "I gotta run, Babe. I've got school stuff to catch up on. Didn't get much done during the trip. See you on Friday in person, but we'll text tomorrow, OK? And thanks for the `Welcome Home' show."
"You're soooo welcome. It was definitely my pleasure. Chat tomorrow."
***
Mr. Choi waved Tyler, Eddie, and me over after class on Monday with a look of concern on his face.
"Asher filled me in on what happened to you guys on Saturday night. Are you doing OK? Can I help in any way?"
"When did you see Asher?" I asked.
"I know he told you that I'm trying to be flexible with his tutoring schedule so that it doesn't interfere with his rehearsals for the musical. We decided that it would be OK to do distance learning on Sundays so that I wouldn't have to make a special trip to your house over the weekend. Yesterday was a trial run and it seemed to be working just fine," Lincoln responded.
"That's really nice of you," Eddie said. "Saturday night was about as awful as you can imagine. I'd never wanna be a goalie for the taser team, let me tell ya."
Tyler, who always laughs at everyone's jokes, wasn't smiling. "Not funny, Eddie. I keep thinking about what would have happened if it had been a real gun with real cops and not those rent-a-cops. I'm not sleeping, to be honest."
"First of all, I don't think that real policemen would have pulled their weapons in a crowded theater unless they saw someone pointing a gun at them," Lincoln said.
"Come on, Mr. Choi, how many innocent people get killed every year because the police just thought they had a weapon or said that they thought someone had a weapon? I saw some statistics that said that in the U. S. if you're black and unarmed, you have a six times higher chance of getting killed by a policeman than if you're white and unarmed."
Lincoln looked shocked.
"I knew it was worse, but not that bad. I'm so sorry for being ignorant about that," he responded. "It's been pretty rough for Asians too these last few years. Random attacks on the street. I never used to feel unsafe. It's a whole new ballgame now."
"Eddie was just trying to help and he got shot. What the fuck," Tyler said enraged. Then he realized he was in school and had just cursed in front of his teacher and looked embarrassed.
"It's OK, Tyler. I've used the term more than a few times," Lincoln smirked. "You know, maybe we should talk about safety statistics for the LGBTQIA+ community at the next Alliance meeting. Trans and non-binary people especially are much more likely to get assaulted and even murdered than their straight, cisgender peers. I'll do some research. Well, you guys better get going to your next classes. Again, please let me know if I can help in any way."
***
"What a day," Mom said, as she walked through the front door at 7:30 PM a few days later. "I've been looking forward to dinner all day. What smells so good?"
"We're having a little trip around Spain tonight. An appetizer of escalivada--we had an eggplant and some red peppers sitting in the fridge. I decided to make those meatballs with the almond sauce that are Abuelo's favorite as a main dish. I'll serve them with saffron rice. And while you guys were busy with work last night, I made a flan."
"Well, aren't you Mr. Overachiever. Speaking of Spain, my work day started at 4:00 AM with a video conference with our producers over there. It lasted for four hours. It looks like we're going to be able to secure some funding from the Ministry of Culture in Galicia and from the Government of Spain."
"Mom, that's amazing! I know you're always scrambling to get funded before you start a production," I said.
"Yeah, we're still looking for other funding sources. I know that with our track record, we'll be able to get distribution deals once we've got the finished videos, but it's always tough to get the upfront money to pay for the production. My dad was smart to register me as a Spanish citizen when I was a kid. They consider me a Spanish filmmaker, so it makes it easier. By the way, don't forget that I did the same thing for you when you were born. You can get a Spanish passport and work anywhere in the European Union that you want if you decide sometime that you want to do that."
"Let me get through high school first," I laughed. "What about Asher?"
"That's a good point, Jaime. We won't be able to do that for him until he's legally adopted. We have to file with the Spanish government before he turns eighteen in order to get him citizenship through me. We filed his adoption papers in January. It usually takes about six months for an adoption to be finalized in Illinois. Maybe we can get his citizenship paperwork done in Spain while we're there."
Dad walked through the door as we were talking about Asher and picked up on the last part of our conversation. He walked over and gave Mom a kiss and me a hug.
"Speaking of Asher, what do you want to do for his birthday?" Dad asked. "He turns sixteen in a couple of weeks. Oh, God, another driver in the house. Insuring teenagers costs a fortune. Has he talked to you about taking driver's ed classes, Jaime?"
"He's got it covered. He took the class at his other school and has his certificate," I responded. "I think he's just been so overwhelmed with everything going on at school that driving's not that high on his to-do list. I mean, we live near school and there's public transit."
"Well, Asher's birthday falls during spring break this year, so maybe we could go somewhere?" I suggested.
"Sorry, Jaime, but neither Dad nor I can get away in March. Dad's going to be out of town on production for a new campaign and I'll be too busy to get away. But maybe you could play tourists in Chicago or drive up to Milwaukee. Or you could pay a visit to your grandparents in Hyde Park and Pilsen."
"Hmm. Not the exciting, warm-weather getaway I was hoping for. Visiting Great-Grandma is not exactly like checking out the hot dudes on South Beach. And the weather here in March is always crazy. You can be bundled up in five layers to survive an arctic blast on Monday, then strolling around in shorts and a t-shirt on Wednesday, then back to the deep freeze on Friday. But I guess I'll just bite my tongue and drink the punch."
"Did someone say, `Tongue and punch'? I love tongue, especially pickled and sliced thin. Which flavor of punch? I like it with lots of pineapple juice," Asher said as he climbed the stairs and walked into the kitchen. Mmm. It smells really good in here. Thanks for cooking, Jaime."
Asher gave us all a kiss on the cheek.
"We had our first reading of the script today at rehearsal. All the kids seem really nice, except for one kid who kept giving me dirty looks."
"Maybe he's jealous," Dad suggested. "You're only a sophomore and have the lead in the show."
"That's what Bentley said. I guess that kid has had the lead in like every show for the past couple of years and now he's graduating and everyone thought that he'd be Evan Hansen. I kind of feel sorry for him...but just a little. I'm not gonna drop out of the show or anything to give him the part. His name is Jacob something. I couldn't figure out what Bentley was saying."
"Jacob Szyszka. He's a nice enough guy but a little full of himself if you ask me. He can't wait to change his last name to something pronounceable so he can become a star," I said. "But I'm sure he had his eye on being Evan Hansen and now he's pissed. Be careful, Asher."
"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned," Dad said.
"What are you talking about? What's `Hath'? What's `Scorned'? And I'm pretty sure that this Jacob kid is a guy," Asher said.
"Dad's quoting Shakespeare. It means that you better watch out for this guy `cause there's nothing as dangerous as someone who's been told to fuck off when something's been living rent-free in their brain forever."
"Ah, I got it now. Thanks, Jaime."
"Yes, thank you, Jaime, for your eloquent translation of Shakespeare," Dad smirked. "'Bubble, bubble, toil and trouble. Fire burn and cauldron bubble.' So, what's in the cauldron tonight? I'm starving."
"Dad's acting weird, Jaime. He's working too hard," Asher said.
"Dad, why don't you open a bottle of wine for you and Mom while I get our little Spanish feast on the table? Dinner should be ready in just a few minutes."
"Wait, I thought we were having tongue and punch?" Asher said.
"Only in your dreams, Brother. Escalivada, which is roasted eggplant, onions, and red peppers; meatballs with an almond sauce served over saffron rice; and flan for dessert."
"Damn. I was hoping for some tongue," Asher smiled, but this time not so innocently.
"You can say that again," I laughed.
***
"Got any plans for tonight?" I asked Asher as we walked home from school on Friday afternoon a few days later, my gymnastics practice and his rehearsal for Evan Hansen having ended at the same time.
"I'm going over to Braden's house. His mom invited me for dinner. Then we're just going to play video games and talk. He really doesn't like his school. The kids are mean to him and I think talking to me makes him feel better. I don't get it, Jaime. Braden is such a good kid. Why wouldn't the other kids his age want to be his friends?"
"You know what Braden went through with his dad, right?"
Asher blushed and nodded his head.
"When his dad was still in the picture, Braden had some behavioral problems. Kids picked up on that and stayed away. Thought he was weird. Even though things are better for Braden and Brandon now, middle school kids form an impression of someone and don't want to let it go. I'm sure things will get better for him next year when he's in high school. Since there are two middle schools that feed into Evanston West, he'll have new kids to meet in the fall, ones who didn't know him before...And he'll have you."
"Jaime, can I ask you something?"
"Of course. You don't have to ask if you can ask."
"Do you think I should go out with Ozzie?"
"He's a really nice, smart dude. Why not?" I responded.
"To be honest, when I play with myself, I always picture these muscular, blond guys. And Ozzie's kinda skinny and obviously not blond. And I really do like him, but I'm just not sure he's my type," Asher said sheepishly.
"Relationships aren't just about someone's looks, Asher, although, I gotta say that I think Ozzie is handsome in a kinda nerdy way. But they're also about connecting with someone in your brain and in your heart. Don't say no to someone you really like just because he's not what you thought your type would be."
"Do you have a type?" Asher asked.
"Not really. I like all ethnic types, I guess. Since I'm so mixed, it would be kind of silly to say I only like white, blond guys, for example. I have to admit that Darius is really, really hot for me physically, but what makes things special is how smart he is and how much he cares about me. We can talk about anything. I mean anything from quantum physics to politics to music to our deepest feelings."
"I like Bentley as a friend but he's kind of shallow sometimes. On the other hand, Ozzie always asks me how things are going and always tries to help, either with math or anything else. He reminds me a little of Braden because I think that I can talk to him about anything. I know Ozzie really likes me and I know he wants to go out with me but he hasn't worked up the courage to ask me because he's afraid I'll say no."
"Then why don't you ask him? I saw the way he looked at you when he met you back in December. He was practically drooling. You'd make the kid really, really happy and you also might find out that you have feelings for him too, if you just have an open mind and an open heart."
"The way your family did with me."
Asher was quiet for a few seconds, then reached for my gloved hand.
"I'm not stupid, Jaime. I know that there are a lot of kids who are in foster care, who turn eighteen, and are never adopted by anyone. I can't imagine anything sadder than never having a family to call your own. I know I've told you this and I'll keep telling you this as long as I live but I wake up every day knowing I won the big prize. I not only have a family that loves me, but the best possible family for me. A mom and dad who are creative and open and kind and a brother who has treated me like a real brother from almost the first time we met. I know that you're doing extra work cooking dinner all the time just so I can have more time for the show. I see how you're watching out for me to make sure all of my homework gets done so I don't fall behind. I know that no matter who I find to be my husband someday, I'll be comparing him to you and I'll be lucky if they're half as good."
"Stop. You're going to make me cry," I said, meaning every word. "Being your brother isn't a one-way street, Asher. It's not just what I've done for you but it's about what I've learned about myself, too. I was an only child for so long that I didn't really understand the importance of sharing or putting someone else's needs first. Being your brother has made me a better person, too."
Asher grabbed my hand more tightly.
"What time are you going over to Darius's house?" he asked.
"7:30. What time do you need to be at Braden's?"
"7:00."
"I'll give you a ride then. How are you getting home? Mom and Dad are eating out."
"Brandon said he'd give me a ride home. He's meeting Sho at 10:00 anyway, so he'll drop me off on the way."
"Cool. I'm gonna run upstairs and get ready for Darius," I said.
"'Wet cleanup in the meat aisle' is what Bentley calls it," Asher laughed.
"What are you talking about?" Then the lightbulb went on in my brain and I burst out laughing. "Bentley's a bad influence on you, but yeah, he slayed on that one."
***
Darius stepped out of his house and into the frigid February air wearing only jeans and a hoodie as soon as I rang the doorbell. He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me passionately.
"You're crazy, you know," I said. "It's so cold out here your dick will shrink up to average size and I'm never going to find your balls."
"I can't wait for you to start the search but we have to make it through dinner first. Believe it or not, I helped my mom with the cooking. You've inspired me."
As we stepped inside, my nose was filled with the delicious smells of a Persian kitchen. Saffron and turmeric were definitely in the air. Maybe a touch of cinnamon, too. We walked into the kitchen, where I gave Yasmin a hug.
"It smells incredible in here," I said.
"We've got a special dinner tonight," Yasmin said. "To start, we've got Kashke Badamjan, an eggplant dip, and Kuku Sabzi, which is like an Iranian frittata. For the main dish, we made Fesenjan, a chicken dish with pomegranate molasses and walnuts, and for dessert, a Persian Love Cake."
"Wow. I hope you didn't go to all this trouble for me," I said.
"Yes and no. We're always happy to have you join us for dinner but we have a special occasion to celebrate, too. We'll fill everyone in at the table," Yasmin said.
Darius shrugged. "No idea. Maybe Mom sold an expensive painting or Dad's a guest of honor at some medical convention."
"Darius, go get Ariana and your dad. Jaime, can you help me carry some stuff to the table?" Yasmin asked.
"No problem," I said, grabbing a couple of plates.
As I set the dishes down on the table, Darius, Ariana, and Javid walked into the dining room. Ariana gave me a fist bump and Javid gave me a handshake. As we all sat down, Darius looked at his mom and asked, "Well, what's the big news? Did you land a great new artist-in-exile?"
"Well, as much as that would be nice, this news is bigger and affects all of us. Javid?"
"Your mom's folks aren't getting any younger and it's not fair to place all of the burden of their care on your aunts, so I did some networking at that dermatology convention last month. Well, to make a long story short, I've been offered a teaching job at UCLA Medical School."
"And I've been toying with the idea of opening a gallery in L. A. for a long time. It's a much bigger art market than Chicago and buying art from refugee artists is a pretty popular idea there," Yasmin added.
By now, the color had drained from Ariana's face, Darius's mouth was hanging open in shock and I felt myself breaking out in a cold sweat.
"And Darius, since you'll probably be in school in California anyway, it means you'll be close to home," Javid added.
"We're not babies, you know!" Ariana began, "You could have at least asked our opinion before you decided to do this. I have all of my friends here. Now I have to start at a new school where I don't know anyone? And what about Darius? Now he won't even have vacation time back here with Jaime. Did you for one second think about how this will affect us?"
"Ari, please, think about my folks. We need to help them," Yasmin pleaded.
"You have two sisters who live close by. Your parents have plenty of money to bring in any help they need. You couldn't have waited just a few years until I graduated?" Ariana seethed.
"Opportunities like this don't come up often, Ari. If we wait two years, we may not get the chance again," Javid said. "You're always complaining about the crappy weather here and how you'd love to go live in L. A."
"Yeah, but when I'm ready. Not now."
"I'm sure your cousins there have friends they can introduce you to. It's not as if we're going there not knowing anyone," Yasmin pleaded.
"Is this a done deal?" Darius asked.
"I've given my verbal approval of the offer but haven't signed anything. I would officially start in June so that I'd have time to get some training in before the term starts in September. We'd move right after Ari's done with school."
"I'm happy for you, Dad. I really am. I know you've wanted a teaching position for a long time and UCLA is really an amazing med school, from what I've heard, but you guys completely ignored the feelings of your two almost-adult kids. We're not two-year-olds who you can uproot and stick in a new daycare and be finished. I know that I've been hoping to go to UCLA my entire life, but things change, situations change. You guys should at least have asked our opinions."
"We know," Javid said, looking glum. "This chance came up out of nowhere and I jumped on it."
Ariana stood up from the table and said, "I'm not hungry. Excuse me." I could see the tears streaming down her face as she turned and walked out.
"I think she just needs some time to get used to the idea," Yasmin said, trying to smooth things over. "Please, help yourselves. There's plenty of food and I don't want it to go to waste."
"It looks incredible. Thank you so much," I said unconvincingly. I didn't have much of an appetite either.
The airline gift card my parents had given to Darius back at Christmas would only cover a single round trip. I had already prepared myself mentally to see Darius a few times a year at breaks and maybe every summer, but now, things were looking bleak for us.
I took small portions of everything just to be polite and silently ate without really enjoying the food that I would have called amazingly delicious on any other occasion.
Darius pushed his leg against mine under the table, but I felt numb and didn't have the energy to reciprocate.
"I have something I need to tell all of you, too," Darius said. "I wanted to save it as a surprise, but now I can't wait any longer...I've also applied to Northwestern and to the University of Chicago."
The news only made things worse for me. From our very first date, Darius had told me how much he wanted to go to UCLA. USC was his backup school. I didn't want to be the reason to keep him from fulfilling his dream. On the other hand, knowing that he'd be with me, or at least a short distance away was like a dream come true--a guilt-ridden dream.
Darius continued, "And to be honest, I wasn't really looking forward to spending more time with Grandma and Grandpa. I can't be myself. I'm tired of being asked about a girlfriend. You told me to not come out to them. If they have an issue with my being gay, it's their problem, not mine. They live in L. A., not Teheran. They need to get with the program and you need to support me on that. And if they still can't deal with it, then you shouldn't be offering to help them either."
"Darius, please, you're being unreasonable," Jasmin said with a touch of annoyance in her voice. "They come from a place and time where that wasn't acceptable. It's very hard for them."
"But it's a different place and time now, and you're giving them an excuse to live in the past. Stop giving them a pass. You say they love me. Then let them prove it. I have nothing I need to prove. I live my truth every day. I'd rather stay here, go to school here, and be with people who love me the way I am. Thanks, but no thanks. I'm gonna spend the night at Jaime's. We can talk tomorrow afternoon. And I don't want you to think that I don't appreciate all of the work you put in to make dinner tonight. It really was awesome but I'm just not feeling very hungry now."
Darius stood up to leave, signaling for me to do the same.
"Darius, please sit down," Javid said. There was a touch of paternal authority in his voice but it was softened with the "please."
Darius thought for a split second, then sat down.
"You have every right to be upset and I agree with everything you've said," Javid began. "Giving you support should mean total support. We can't say that we support you here and then sweep things under the rug when you're with your grandparents. But you've wanted to go to UCLA your entire life. The fact that you'll be near your grandparents there shouldn't matter much. You'll be spending most of your time on campus anyway. We can deal with your grandparents better when we're living there and can take the time to sit down with them. But don't change your mind about schools so quickly. I'm not saying that Northwestern and U of C aren't awesome schools. They both are and we'd be proud of you to go to either of them, but you need to think this through first before you make any decisions, OK?
"And Jaime, I don't want you to think this is anything against you. We honestly, really like you and see how happy you've made Darius, and if he decides to stay here, we won't be upset at you for changing his mind."
"Excuse me," Darius said, the anger returning to his voice, "Jaime didn't even know I was applying to those schools. He didn't change my mind. I just came to realize that there were very good reasons to stay here. Yeah, the weather sucks, but Jaime will be here and we can complain about the weather together." (That brought a smile to my lips.) "This isn't some high school crush that I'll forget about in five years, OK? And if I do get into UCLA and do decide to go to school there, I know that we'll try everything to stay together as a couple, even if we have to be apart physically for four years."
He reached under the table and grabbed my hand so hard it hurt. By now, I was fighting back the tears anyway and the pain pushed me over the edge.
"Ready to go?" Darius asked. I nodded, sniffling.
"Maybe you'll be hungry later, boys. Please. Please let me pack up some of this food and a couple of pieces of cake, OK?" Jasmin pleaded.
Darius paused for a second to weigh his hurt against his love for his family. Family won. He smiled weakly and agreed to the love offering.
Five minutes later we were headed back to my place. We shivered against the cold and sat in silence as we waited for the seat warmers and the car heater to kick in.
Once things finally started to warm up, Darius asked, "Remind me, did the groundhog see his shadow this year?"
"Yup."
"So, six more months of winter?"
"You mean six more weeks of winter," I corrected.
"Nope. I meant what I said," Darius responded, suppressing a smile.
End--Tripod Chapter 44