Serpentine Walls (11 page)

“Yeah, I get that.” Donning his sunglasses again, Aidan stretched out on his side, facing Pete, his head propped up by his hand. “What does he do with his realizations?”

“He changes his life, of course.” He snuck a peek at Aidan, who smiled approvingly.

“Good. So it’s a tale of redemption.”

“Oh, yeah.” Pete smiled back at him. “It’s very archetypal. At least, that’s what Matthew said.”

Pete felt his mind and body buzzing as they talked, like Aidan had thrown a switch or plied him with some intoxicating drug. There was nothing earth shattering about what they were saying, but all Pete’s senses seemed heightened, and he found himself remembering the way Aidan’s skin had felt when they were entwined in his bed.

They had been talking for nearly an hour when a voice with a clipped British accent intruded on the conversation.

“Peter, Aidan, hello there.”

Professor R lingered on the sidewalk, looking handsome and casual in his jeans and gray sweater.

“Oh, hey, Rodney. Is it time already?” Aidan stretched and yawned before standing up and leaning over to grab his jacket. “We’ve got a meeting,” he said to Pete and then offered him his hand. “You getting up?” He smiled down at him.

Disappointment tightened Pete’s throat as his vision of moving their conversation to Aidan’s bedroom came crashing down. He coughed.

“Naw, think I’ll stay here.”

“Pete and I were discussing the meaning of life. And films, of course,” Aidan said to Professor R.

“Oh? Sounds fascinating. I’m sorry I missed that,” Professor R replied, glancing from one to the other. “Do include me the next time.”

And there went that intense look between Aidan and Professor R again, but Pete was past caring what it meant. He slouched on the grass and closed his eyes.

“See you at octet rehearsal” came Aidan’s voice.

“Yeah.” He kept his eyes closed until he heard their footsteps and voices fade away, then rolled over and rested his face on his forearms.

A
FTER
the words in front of him blurred for the third time, Pete decided he’d done enough on the paper he was trying to write. He stretched and put his notebook and laptop into his backpack. A cold wind hit him in the face as he left the library. It had been warm earlier when he and Aidan had been sitting on the Lawn, but the temperature felt like it’d fallen by twenty degrees. Shivering, he ducked into Newcomb Hall to get a cup of coffee before heading home.

He was doctoring his Americano with some half-and-half, thinking about his paper, when a movement from across the room drew his attention. It was Aidan.
Again
. He was being joined at his table by another guy, someone Pete hadn’t seen before. He watched Aidan stand and hug him, copping a feel of his ass while the other guy laughed.

Well, fuck me
. Pete was going home to what he suspected would be an empty apartment. Angie had been out several evenings this week, and when Pete teased her about having a secret boyfriend, she had blushed scarlet but refused to say more, which was totally unlike her. Pete considered calling John, but he didn’t like to intrude on John’s time at home with Cleo.
Everyone’s getting some these days,
he thought grumpily as he averted his eyes from Aidan’s cozy tête-à-tête.

He pulled out his phone and studied the texts he’d received from Jed in the past few weeks. He had responded to a few but hadn’t accepted Jed’s invitations to get together because, frankly, Jed didn’t excite him.
Oh, what the hell
. Pete sent Jed a text.
U up for videogames 2nite?
He didn’t have to wait more than thirty seconds for Jed’s response.
Sure. Come over.

Five minutes later, he knocked on the door to Jed’s dormitory suite. Loud rap music sounded through the wall, and Pete tapped his toe to the beat as the door was opened by a short guy wearing a U.Va. sweatshirt.
Hank
, Pete thought, if he was remembering correctly. He’d met him the morning after he and Jed had spent the night together.

“Oh. Hey, man,” Hank said and then called, “Jed! Your friend’s here.”

Pete walked into the living room area and surveyed the general chaos. Newspapers and junk food wrappers littered every surface, piles of books lay on the floor like they had been dropped there and forgotten, sneakers and jackets in a heap next to them. Recalling his own experiences in dormitory living, he sent up a silent thanks for Angie and their relatively neat apartment.

“Pete.” Jed stood in the door to his room in sweatpants and a ratty tee, a shy smile on his face. “Come on in.”

Pete followed him in. “Your roommate gone again?”

“Yeah. He’s got a girlfriend he’s practically living with, so he’s out of the room most nights.”

“Nice. Almost like having your own place.”

“Yeah, it’s great. What do you want to play?” He gestured to a pile of video games on the floor next to the flat-screen TV.

“Quite a selection.” Pete picked up
Halo 2
. “I remember staying up all night playing this with my brother Rob when it first came out. We skipped school next day without telling our parents because we were still playing. We got so grounded when my mom found out.”

Jed laughed and handed him a controller. “Let’s play it.”

They settled cross-legged on the floor and launched into the game. Jed was good, better than Pete, who was rusty from not having played in a while. It didn’t take long, though, for all of his competitive urges to come to the fore.

“Damn! Get outta there!”

“No way, sucker. Die!”

Trading insults and trash talk, they battled on until Pete finally watched his character succumb to a fiery death.

“Shit.” He flopped on his back and yawned while Jed did a fist pump.

“What can I say?” Jed said. “You’ve met the Jed-meister, and he has owned your ass.”

Pete smiled. “I shoulda known that under that mild-mannered exterior lurked the Jed-meister.”

Jed threw down his controller and lay next to Pete, grinning up at the ceiling. The silence stretched. Pete was about to suggest playing another game when Jed said, “You can stay over if you want.”

Pete turned on his side to face him. “Okay.” He ran his hand up Jed’s well-muscled arm, and Jed flushed.

Pete wondered idly whether Jed had much sexual experience; it hadn’t seemed like it when they had gotten together before. Recalling his own awkward teenaged fumbling with George, Pete leaned over and kissed him. Jed clamped his hand around Pete’s neck, kissing him back eagerly. What he lacked in finesse, he made up for in enthusiasm, Pete thought, feeling his cock harden.
At least this time I won’t fall asleep on him.

J
OGGING
down the sidewalk, Pete let the rhythmic pounding lull him into a meditative state. The wind kicked up, and a fragment of a dream he’d had the night before drifted into his mind.

He’s outside his house, but he’s lost his key and can’t get in. Now he’s inside, standing in the foyer. All of the furniture is unfamiliar. Adults in black mourning clothes are in the hallway, and they say, “We’re sorry for your loss.” His eyes fill with tears and he keeps groping in his pocket for the key, but it’s not there.

Pete wiped the sweat from his forehead.
Freud could do something with that. No, Jung
. John was forever spouting Jungian theory. He’d have to tell him this one—John loved to analyze his dreams.

I’ve got an analysis. Life sucks. Nothing lasts. People are shitheads and leave you in the end. Like Dad.

Pete breathed more deeply, anger tightening his throat. The asshole had had the nerve to bring his new girlfriend, Mallory, with him when he came to visit Pete at school last week.
Mallory
. Of course she’d have a name like that. It reminded him of a mallard, only she didn’t look like a duck. She looked like the thirty-year-old bookkeeper she was.
CPA
, she was quick to correct people, smiling and tossing back her (fake) red hair.

He slowed to a walk as he neared the apartment, disgusted that he had wasted his endorphins on family crap. Feeling his phone vibrate, he pulled it out and frowned. It was Rob, his least favorite brother.

“What?” he said, opening the door and sniffing the air appreciatively. Angie was in the kitchen, stirring onions in a frying pan with a wooden spoon.

“Dad’s been trying to reach you.” Rob sounded like his usual sanctimonious self.

“So? I just saw him last week.”

“So call him back so he stops bugging me about it.”

“He can fuck himself.”

“Great. I’ll tell him you said that.”

Goody Two-shoes. Fuck off.
“Great.” Pete hung up in Rob’s ear.

Angie looked over from the stove. “Who was that? And who needs to fuck himself?”

“Rob. Dad.”

“Oh.” Angie shot him a sympathetic glance. “So… is your dad… I mean, he’s still with that other woman?”

“Yeah. They’re planning to go to Puerto Vallarta for Thanksgiving.”

“That sucks. How’s your mom doing?”

“Shitty.” He was tired of thinking about it. “What are you cooking?” he asked, to change the subject. “Smells good.”

“Chicken fajitas.”

“I thought we were going out to eat.” He clasped his hands over his head, stretching to one side and then the other.

“Change of plans. Brian’s coming over so we can study for the history test.”

“Brian, huh?” Pete smiled knowingly at Angie.

“Don’t start.”

“You should give him a chance, Angie. He’s a good guy and he’s nuts about you.”

“Here we go again. I could say the same about Jed, you know.”

Pete walked past Angie to open the refrigerator. “Coronas? Fancy.”

“Don’t drink ’em all. Save one for Brian. Hey, why don’t you invite Jed over since I’m actually cooking for once?”

Pete got himself a glass of water. “I’m not all that into Jed. I don’t want him getting ideas.”

He and Jed had gotten together a few more times, hanging out in Jed’s dorm room, eating snacks, playing video games, and capping things off with some not-too-exciting sex. But that didn’t mean he wanted a “relationship” with the guy.

“You talk about me giving Brian a chance; you should give
Jed
a chance.”

“Give it up, girl. You’re such a romantic.”

Angie frowned. “Well, what’s wrong with that? I believe in love.”

“Nothing’s wrong with it for you. Just not what I’m looking for. Jed and I are hooking up. That’s all it is.”

“
Hooking up
? Ugh. I hate that expression. Can’t you at least call it dating?”

“Um, I wouldn’t call what we’re doing ‘dating,’ Ang.”

Angie huffed out a sigh. “Fine. All I’m saying is you and Jed could be more.”

“I don’t see it. Jed is a good guy, but… it kinda reminds me of me and George.”

“But that’s my point! You and George were boyfriends—you were each other’s first kiss and first everything else.”

Pete drank his water, thinking about George. “Were we even boyfriends? We never talked to each other at school ’cause we didn’t want anyone to find out. All we did was have sex in George’s basement. I mean, no one but you and John even knew we were together.”

Angie picked up a knife and started chopping a green pepper. “That’s ’cause y’all weren’t out at school, not that I blame you, given the jerks at our high school. It’s different now, though.”

“I know. I just mean that… beyond the sex, we never really connected. And it didn’t last once we graduated.”

“Well, that’s what going to different universities does to you. You and Jed are right here in the same place, and you have time to build on things.” Pete made a noncommittal noise, watching Angie slice the pepper with quick, sure movements. Finally, she set down the knife and turned to him. “I guess I don’t know what you want. You say you’re not looking for anything beyond a hookup, but then you moan about you and George never really connecting.”

“Yeah.” Pete dropped his eyes to study the water in his glass. “I guess
I
don’t know what I want either.”

No sooner did he say that, though, than the answer appeared:
Someone who’s into the same things I’m into—books and movies and music. Someone fun. Someone I can talk to about everything. Someone where the sex is through the roof. Someone like Aidan. Fuck me. Dream on.

“Well, how about inviting Aidan over, then?” Angie said as she added the green pepper to the pan.

“Uh… no.”

Angie stopped stirring and regarded Pete. “He’s never called you after that night? Or even texted?”

“Nope,” Pete admitted, setting his glass on the counter. “I mean, we’ve seen each other, like at U. Singers and the octet rehearsals. And we’ve talked some in person, but….” He tried for a casual shrug.
I need to get over this guy. At least I haven’t sent him any drunk texts lately
. “Hey, as long as we’re giving each other the third degree, when are you going to tell me about Mystery Man?”

Angie got a shifty look on her face. “Who?”

“You know who. Whoever it is that you’ve been spending your evenings with. You having a hot affair with Brian and just not telling me?”

“Very funny.” The text tone sounded on Pete’s phone. “Ah, I bet that’s Jed. True love.”

“No, it’s Matthew—and shut it about Jed.”

Angie beamed. “Matthew! Let’s invite him to dinner!”

“Won’t that make Brian jealous, though?” She threatened him with the spatula, and he pretended to duck and then read the text. “It’s something about my film.”

“Ask him over. You owe him dinner for all the help he’s giving you. Besides, I don’t think Matthew’s interested in
me
.” She gave Pete an arch look.

“Hmm. I wish, but he isn’t making any big moves on me either.”

“Cleo said he doesn’t date. I wonder why.”

“Maybe he’s got someone at home.” Pete sent Matthew a text inviting him over. “I wouldn’t know. We’ve never talked about it.”

“Men,” Angie retorted. “Never talking about what’s really important.”

Pete didn’t answer for a moment as he read Matthew’s reply. Besides, Angie was wrong. He and Matthew talked about lots of stuff. Sometimes they barely got any work done on his film because they were yakking so much.