Turnabout Two
Hi everyone! Here is the first of the chapters which will form the conclusion to Turnabout. I'd like to thank all of the people who have written to me. You have encouraged me greatly, and I appreciate every one of your letters. I've been particularly inspired by those of you who have shared personal stories with me.
I've been most especially inspired by one guy whose search for a true love has made me want to finish this story. He'll recognize himself by this: (kfu). I really love you, man. Thanks for sharing who you are with me.
As always, I really like hearing from my readers. You can get in touch with me at cgalt08@yahoo.ca
These chapters will appear on the Nifty Archive every two weeks, normally uploaded on Tuesday evenings.
The usual stuff applies: if love between men is offensive to you, or illegal for you to read about, you should not be here. Leave now.
-One-
Josh seemed to realize that he was still holding my hand tightly gripped in his as we came down into the lobby. He tried to disengage as gently as he could, and I turned my head and smiled at him to let him know I understood. His whole attitude, from the moment he had found Will and me together had been one of gentle support. I couldn't get over it.
It wasn't until we were seated in the privacy of the Trans Am that I started to shake. So badly that I had to grab my head and bend forward with my elbows on my thighs.
Josh's hand was immediately on my back, gently rubbing up and down. "David! Tell me," he said softly. "Don't hide it from me. Don't be afraid."
"Josh," I replied stammeringly, "could we... could we just go back to your place before we start talking. I... I just want to... I don't want to... I just want to be alone... with you, I mean."
"Sure thing. Got you." With that, he slammed the car into reverse, backed quickly but smoothly out of the parking space, and squawked out of the lot. He obviously wanted to start talking in a hurry, because I think he set a new record getting us back to his place. It seemed like it anyway. I still hadn't made any ground on trying to pull myself together.
Tears were still trickling down my face as we went through the front door. To be met by both of Josh's parents.
"David?" said his mother, her tone radiating a combination of surprise and concern.
"Mom, Dad," Josh cut in before anyone could say anything else. Not that I was a candidate at that point. I wasn't even sure I was going to be able to talk to Josh, even though I'd said I'd wanted to. "David's had a... a pretty bad experience just now at school. We just need some time to talk about it. OK?"
His father looked at Josh, over to me, then back to Josh. "Are you in any way responsible for this... experience, Joshua?"
I couldn't let Josh carry this by himself. "Uh, Mr. Barrett... Josh has been great, really great. He's..." Then I couldn't go on. I just couldn't figure out what to say after that.
Fortunately, it seemed to be enough for Mr. Barrett. He moved to one side, and Josh's mother said, "Josh, just see what you can do for David. Your father's just leaving for a meeting, but I'll be here. Let me know when you're ready for something to eat. David, you'll be staying for dinner, won't you."
It was more of a statement than a question, and I nodded acceptance. I still couldn't trust my voice. Josh then steered me down the hall to his room, his hand on my shoulder. When we got in through the door, I just collapsed into the beanbag chair I'd left, what, not even an hour before. Josh sat down close beside me, cross-legged on the floor.
Silence. Once again I lay back, my face hidden behind my hands, shutting out the world. Josh said nothing, waiting. My mind was a complete blank. Well, no. That wasn't it at all. It was a blank in the sense that there was not one single, coherent thought that was forming. Instead, there was a swirling confusion of half-formed images, isolated words and phrases, emotions I couldn't even put a name to.
I felt as though I was floating away, literally out of my mind altogether. I had to take hold. I had to get back in charge. With a massive wrench, I pulled my hands away from my face, looked at Josh, and said the first thing that came from the mess inside: "Josh, what have I done to Will?"
It was just the merest flash, but I saw the look on Josh's face. He'd pulled it back very quickly but I'd seen it. But even if I could have figured out what to do about it, I was in no condition to do it. I was barely keeping myself going.
He lowered his head and studied the carpet, saying nothing. I have no idea how much time passed. I had to get us out of this. Us? Or me? What was I doing to him? What had I done to Will? What was I doing to myself? Oh, FUCK! Was I ever going to get myself together? Why couldn't I just go back to being an isolated, friendless, sarcastic prick like I'd been before? Not very satisfying as a life style, but far less complicated than the messy confusion I was in now.
Josh raised his head and looked at me squarely. "All right. Tell me what you've done to Will." It was a miracle of restraint. I could see, I could actually see, just behind the face he'd put on as he'd been staring at the floor, the explosion he really wanted to let loose. Just one brief hour ago, we'd been in a lip and body lock, giving our feelings for one another full rein. In the past twenty-four hours, he'd blossomed into a new and beautiful human being, one who had declared love for me.
"Josh, I..."
"No." He twisted his head aside and snapped it back to look directly into my eyes. "Tell me what you've done to Will." His eyes bored into mine, willing me to answer his question. Well, fuck it. Might as well have it out and over.
"I've hurt him so badly." My voice was hardly a whisper.
"Yes, I think you have." The sentence came out as though he'd had to wrench it from his vocal cords.
"What can I do?" Pure anguish, voice breaking on the high-pitched "do".
"What can you do?" he echoed. He wasn't going to give me any help on this at all.
I started to get angry. Was it at him, or at me? "He changed. He changed so much!" I started off, but weakly. "How did I make him change like that?"
"Did you make him change?" I detected the first hint of real response from Josh.
I swear to God I opened my mouth five times before anything actually came out. What came out was so bitter it practically burnt my tongue. "I was the worst, ignorant, anti-social, sarcastic, uncaring, friendless jerk who walked the halls of that school. No one wanted anything to do with me. Will was the only one who kept coming back, kept trying to be a friend. And I did nothing but treat him with total contempt, thinking he was even more of a loser if the only person he could find to talk to was a loser like me."
I stopped and drew a big breath, trying to calm myself down. "And then he saved me." I couldn't bring myself to tell Josh the circumstances in which that breakthrough had come. It was so... so intensely personal. I pushed on. "He showed me love. Or... or what I thought was love." I stopped again, thinking hard. "That's exactly it!" I burst out. "Was it love he was giving me?" I looked at Josh for an answer. Why, I don't know.
He looked back at me, the mask beginning to crack under the strain. "Was... was it?" he choked.
It was my turn to lower my head. "Josh, I don't know. I just don't know!" I felt the heat in my face as I looked back into his eyes. The bitter taste was back, stronger than ever in my mouth. "What the fuck do I know about love?"
The mask broke. "I thought... I thought we'd found out," Josh said brokenly.
"Josh, for God's sake!" I was practically yelling. I choked and stumbled over the next thoughts, and finally came out with, "Who exactly have you loved before now?" I winced at the sneering tone of those words. I immediately wished them back into my mouth. Too late.
He'd turned his head away from me under the force of the question. He spoke to the wall across from us. "Nobody." Silence. "Not even me."
Fuck. First Will. Now Josh. Was I destined to hurt everyone I ever tried to connect with? Get it together, David. Pull it out of the fire. Now!
"Josh." I said it as tenderly as I could. "Tell me." No response. He got up and went over to stand at the window, gazing out down the hill into the city below.
I moved up behind him. "Joshua, tell me!" I said more strongly. I was in no way prepared for what happened. The next thing I knew, his two hands were gripping my shoulders hard, and I was slammed back into the wall.
"Don't call me that! Don't ever call me that!" It wasn't a yell. It was a scream.
Instinct and nothing else. I knocked his arms up and away and backhanded him as hard as I could across the face. He staggered away, into the middle of the room, shaking his head. I stood frozen to the spot, then sagged limply against the wall. Josh dropped into the beanbag chair, hands over his face, adopting the same posture I'd been in earlier.
Head whirling again. How do I... What do I... My body took over. I ran.
I bolted from the room, down the corridor, out the front door. Down the drive, legs pounding. I don't know a thing about running records, but I was sure breaking my personal best. I had no idea whether Josh was even aware that I'd gone. But I couldn't let him find me. I broke off the driveway, angling across the lawn for the belt of trees. I got in among them, came to a shuddering stop, and leaned up against one of them, gasping. Maybe just a little more physical activity for you, David, I thought crazily to myself. A good New Year's resolution. I giggled, then thought, What a stupid fucked-up asshole you are!
Up at the house, the Trans Am roared to life and came squealing down the driveway. It roared past my position across in the trees and went on down to the gate. I heard the brakes slam the car to a stop. He must be looking down the street to spot me, I thought. Amazing how lucidly my mind seemed to be working now that there was a clear line of action to follow. And that line was to keep away from Josh.
The car came back up the drive. He knew I hadn't got to the street. The car stopped almost directly opposite. I heard the door open. "David! David!" His voice wasn't angry. He was actually pleading. He wanted me back? He wanted to get hurt some more? Yeah, right.
OK, I had to get away. Right. A couple of hours of light left. Have to move carefully. Blue jacket. Might show as I move through the trees. Dark green shirt. OK, take the jacket off, bundle it up, carry it under my arm. Will get a little cool, but I should be able to stand it until I get further away. I unzipped it as quietly as I could, and slid out of each sleeve slowly. I squashed it up carefully, trying not to make the fabric rustle. I couldn't tell what Josh was doing, whether he was still standing by the car, or whether he was moving around trying to spot me. He hadn't called out again.
I moved softly away through the trees, heading downhill on an angle away from the drive and the gates, toward where I knew the road must be. It was a really, well, manicured woods. There was no brush, or thickets, or any kind of vegetation built up. Probably good thinking to clean that stuff out, so the risk of fire was at a minimum. It was easy work to just glide along, looking back over my shoulder for any signs that Josh had spotted me.
Then a wall. Damn, I'd forgotten about that. Field stone, about a foot and a half taller than me. Let's just hope they haven't put broken glass or something up there, I thought as I heaved my jacket over. A quick scramble, and I was up and over. And down, with Josh nowhere in sight.
I wandered. No sign of pursuit. Well, why would he try to come after me? He was well out of it. Once again, I'd managed to prove how much of an asshole I really was. I didn't deserve Josh. I didn't deserve Will. I didn't deserve anybody.
Cold. Wind starting to pick up. I got my jacket back on and zipped it well up under my chin. Walked. Walked fast. Walked slow. The pace changed with the thoughts going through my head. Will, Josh, Will, Josh, stupid fucked-up David. Will again. Josh again. What did I want? You stupid, dumb-ass fuck-up, what the fuck do you want? I lashed myself with the question, adding all the variations of expletive language I knew, and then added some I made up. But by the time I'd zigged and zagged through some side streets, once I'd gotten back into the more built-up areas, just to make sure Josh couldn't find me if he were still looking (yeah, right!), all I'd managed to do was create a highly-embellished question without even a hint of an answer.
OK. Answer time, you questioning fuck. Get your fucking screwed-up mind in gear and get yourself the fuck out of the fucked-up mess you've been so fucking numb to get yourself into. I'd been walking alongside a brick wall, and as I told myself this I whirled and slammed my hand into it. The pain shot up and down my arm like bolts of lightening. I sagged against it, suddenly exhausted, but with head cleared. Nothing like a good bit of pain to clear the mind, I giggled wryly to myself. Maybe I was going to turn out to be an S&M freak or something.
I started walking again, alternately shaking my arm and rubbing it, trying to soothe the jangled nerves in it. It was enough to keep my brain from fully engaging and getting back into the mess once more. I had absolutely no clue where I was going, and the approaching darkness made me aware of this. I had to find my way back to a main street so I could get my bearings.
An hour later, footsore and with a head which felt as though it had been stuffed with cotton wool, I was no closer to an answer. In fact, I'd stopped thinking of anything sensible at all. I was getting close to home. I was even closer to Will's house. In fact, I was right in front of it.
I hung a sharp left, walking quickly, right up the sidewalk to the front door, keeping my mind firmly off any possibility of actually thinking about what I was doing. My still-sore arm came up and firmly punched the bell button. The faint ding-dong noise came out to me, but after a bit of waiting there was no other sound. I punched the bell button twice, fast. Much more of a delay and I was going to be running again. I started bouncing from foot to foot, getting ready to bolt.
And the door opened. Will.
He actually jerked back when he saw who it was standing there on his porch. His mouth contracted into--what? A sneer? A snarl? Whatever it was, it wasn't exactly welcoming. His mouth started to work, but no sound came out. I took the initiative.
"Hi, Will." Low-key, low-voiced. I looked, not into his face, but at his knees. I could feel my shoulders hunching, waiting for the blow.
Finally, sound. "What the hell are you doing here?" Quiet, almost defeated. No harshness. No sound of impending violence.
I risked looking up. And immediately wished I hadn't. The look on Will's face was so impossible to describe. But it all added up to pain. Pain which I had caused. I opened my mouth, closed it, then tried again. "Look, Will... Seeing as how I'm here anyway, can we please talk? Please will you talk to me, or let me talk to you?"
More emotions flashed across his face. Finally, he took one hesitant step backward, and I immediately walked in. I owed somebody something for all this sorry mess. More than one somebody. Will was who was in front of me now, and I was going to try my damnedest to do something to make up for what I'd done to him.
"Come on up," he said quietly, and headed for the stairs. I followed. This was certainly a very different Will than the one I'd been dealing with earlier in the day. That one I wouldn't have followed up. It remained to be seen if he would reappear. But whichever one it was, he had to be dealt with.
He sat down on his desk chair. I took the bed. I almost couldn't bring myself to sit on it, remembering what had happened right here during the weekend just past. He sat staring at the floor between his feet. I stared at him, turning various things over in my mind. He gave me all the time I needed. He didn't look up. He didn't say a word. He waited for whatever was coming. He looked like I felt. But somebody had to say something, and I was the one who'd asked to talk.
"Will." He just wasn't going to look up. "Will, I've hurt you so badly. I'm not even going to try to ask you to forgive me. You don't have any idea what's going on, and that's because I haven't been honest with you." I saw his head tilt just a bit to one side, toward me. I kept going, the words coming out more and more slowly, pacing themselves to the difficulty I was having to speak something which I was still struggling to understand. It was like walking uphill in thick mud.
"I haven't been honest with you because I haven't been honest with myself. I so do not know what I'm doing!" That last one came out with a rush, with an intensity of feeling which caused Will's head to finally come up and turn fully toward me. "It's like... it's like I've been spun around twenty times and then told to walk a straight line. One day I'm one person, the next day I'm this totally other person... I can't hold on. I don't know who I am!"
"You're David Preston. You're the guy I thought loved me." The hurt was there. No doubt.
"You're Will Drummond. You're the guy I thought loved me, not just wanted me as someone to have sex with." Ouch. Way to go, David. That'll bring him around.
It did too. The color drained from his face. "Wanted you just to have sex with?" Each word separate, fully enunciated, still spoken quietly, but rising to a note of incredulity.
"So I'm wrong about that?"
"You are so wrong about that." Full intensity, every word.
"Then why do I think that that's what you meant today? As, for instance, I'm really not sure that someone who loves someone calls him a bitch."
Will's head sank back down. I waited. I wanted to push, I opened my mouth, but something stopped me.
"David, I... I guess I was desperate. I was sure that everything I'd ever hoped for and had suddenly been given was going completely down the drain. I was grabbing on to try to hold it. And... it was just like a nightmare. The harder I grabbed, the more you slipped out of my grasp."
"I hope you were listening to what you just said, Will. I'm not someone you can 'grab'," I said, really leaning on that word.
"And am I someone you can just dump, without a word?" Will was finally showing some fire. I had to make sure the fire didn't start raging out of control.
"That word 'dump' has been used by only one person, Will. You."
"David, stop playing games!" Spoken with great force, white hot intensity. "Who do you love? Me? Or Josh?"
There it was. Back again. Will? Josh? Josh? Will? Around and around and around... I blew. Totally.
"I DON'T KNOW!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. Not yelled, screamed. I had no idea whether anyone else was in the house or not. At that point rational thought, which I had worked so hard to regain since leaving Josh, deserted me once again. I worked solely from raw emotion. "I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW! I DON'T KNOW!". Three more times, each one just as loud as the first. It was only the panicked look on Will's face that brought me some way back toward normalcy.
"Sorry," I gasped, breathing heavily, and flopped back on the bed. I lay there. Will sat there. Quiet reigned. It had to have been a full quarter of an hour before either one of us spoke. Then I sat up and turned to face Will once again.
"OK, here it is. I'm going to try to tell you this the best I can. That day you burst in on me while I was beating off, the guy in my head was Josh." Will's face twisted. "Deal with it, Will. He was designed as a god. You weren't. Neither was I."
From somewhere, Will dredged up a small smile. "You're not all that bad."
"Neither are you, man. To go on: what I had in my head was nothing more than an image. He was still a complete asshole, and you knew it as well as I did. I had a thing for him visually. He was a sex object. That was it. Then you were there. You were real. You showed me love." My voice caught on that wonderful little four-letter word, but I forced on. "You cared about me. I responded to that. And thanks to you, I became a better person." Will was now looking at me fully, listening with all his might.
"So what happened?"
"OK, here's the part I didn't tell you. And I should have. And because I didn't, I got trapped. And we ended up where we are now. Anyway, when I got the detention after gym, and you weren't around, there I was scrubbing the shower tiles with that stupid toothbrush, and Josh came into the locker room. He wanted a shower. And next thing I knew, there he was in front of me, completely naked. And he looked even better than the picture in my head."
Will's face twisted again.
"Will, man, get over it! He is what he is, you are what you are, I am what I am. And fucked if I know what any of it means. So there he is and I'm looking. And he sees me looking. And he starts to use it. I mean, here's me: a guy who knows he's gay, who finds someone, which is you, to fully realize that with, and then here's Josh who's going to make my life an even greater hell because of it. So I have to fight back." I shuddered to a stop. Here was the hard part.
Will actually saw my distress. "Go on," he said quietly.
"He's coming in on me, his dong waving at me, saying 'Come on, you know you want it,' and I'm freaking out trying to find a way out. And suddenly, somehow, I'm pushing back telling him he's the one who wants it. Next thing I know I've got him backed up against the wall, he's suddenly looking scared as hell, and my hand is wrapped around his dick. And then he's puking his guts all over the floor."
I shuddered to a stop. Will finally said, "And he doesn't deserve that?"
"No, he doesn't deserve that!" I snapped back. "And I really didn't like finding myself acting like him. Anyway, I told him I wasn't going to tell anybody about it, which is why I didn't tell you. And I gave him my number and asked him to call me if he wanted to talk. The whole scene had me really shook up. Then right after, you called up with your invitation here... and everything... and I was fighting this thing or trying to forget it the whole time I was with you."
Will nodded his head slowly. "So that was it," he said. "I knew something wasn't right the moment you walked in the door. And I should have guessed that what happened between us on the weekend wasn't the real you. Maybe that's what threw me off. But, let's face it, I was loving it and wasn't going to start trying to analyze it to death."
"Yeah, well, I was loving it too," I admitted. "But when we stopped, Sunday afternoon, it all came right back. That's when I took off. And just as soon as I was home, Josh called."
Will's face took on the pained expression again.
"Look, Will, here it is, believe it or not. No, we haven't had sex. Yes, we've kissed--hard and long, if you want to know. And he is a really nice guy. Now, do I love him? He said he loved me, and I don't really think he knows that any more than I do. And we've just had a big fight, and I hit him, and I've walked here all the way from his place." The last came out with a big rush.
"You hit him?" Will's voice hit shrill. "What did the bastard do to you?"
"Will, cool it!" I was snapping again. "He didn't do anything to me... or, well, he did react kind of funny to something I said and he yelled at me and pushed me against the wall. I backhanded him and ran out. And he's not a bastard!" I was getting kind of hot under the collar again. This roller coaster emotional stuff was the absolute pits, and I was getting tired of it.
"Why do you keep defending him?" Will said, his emotions in no better shape than mine.
"Why do you keep attacking him?" I shot back. "Look, Will," I went on, trying to get my control back. "This isn't about me choosing him over you or you over him. I'm in no position to choose anybody for anything. Fuck, I'm in no position to make up my mind over what to have for supper right now! I'm tired, I'm confused, I hate myself, and I've lost the only two people who have shown me any real friendship in a long time."
Again, we sat silent for a long while.
Will was first to break the silence. "I really can't think of what to say now," was all he said.
"Me neither," I responded. "But I wanted you to know the truth about everything that's happened. I've gone and told you what I told Josh I wouldn't tell anyone. And now that's one more thing I've got to deal with. There's always room for just one more," I quipped, and laughed bitterly.
"Yeah," was all Will could muster.
"Look," I said, "I gotta get going. I'm starved. And I gotta try to get some sleep. I'm exhausted."
"Sure," said Will. He looked up at me as I stood. His expression was unreadable. I had to give it one more shot.
"You OK?"
A long pause. "I don't know how to answer that."
"Well... I'll see you tomorrow, then."
"Yeah, right."
I couldn't read that one either. Without a backward glance, I walked out of his room, down the stairs, and out of the house.