Alliance of Gay Students

He stepped over to his desk and picked up the phone. “It’s my mother.” I saw his dick go soft immediately.

“Shit. She just left the airport; she’s on her way here. Fuck a duck. My dad’s with her. She wants to pick us up for lunch.”

“Us?”

“She’s not like my father; she listens to what I say. Look, it says ‘We want to take you and Ryan to lunch.’ Fuck, what am I going to do?”

I just looked at him. He knew exactly what we were going to do, but he just stood there.

“First,” I said, “I need to get back in the shower. Having your seed running down my leg would probably not be a good first impression; although, from what your brother said, your father might like it.”

Spencer was pale, and he wasn’t smiling.

“Sort of kidding. Next, we’ll get dressed, so we’re ready when they get here.” I stood up and pushed him toward the bathroom.

Spencer went through the motions, and we were dressed and calmly waiting when a knock at the door let us know that they had arrived. My heart was beating rapidly, and I was surprised that the echo of Spencer’s heartbeat wasn’t reverberating against the wall. I stood up, and Spencer welcomed them inside. His mother gave me a huge hug, and when she said she was glad to meet me, I believed her to be sincere.

Spencer’s father, Spencer Garcin Greene, III, tried to crush my hand when we shook.

“Garcie, I just knew your boyfriend would be cute,” said his mother, Helen. She leaned in and whispered in his ear, “I always thought you were gay, but I wanted you to be the one to tell me.”

“He isn’t fucking gay; he confused,” said his father. His mother just rolled her eyes. Her lips mouthed the words, ‘He’s gay,’ as she nodded her head.

His father looked directly at me, “So, when did you find out about the money?”

“I’m sorry,” I answered. “Did you say that Spencer is confused?”

He looked at me with contempt.

I nodded, “Kind of like a hunting partner I know.” I saw his face lose some color. “Anyway, I don’t know anything about any money.”

“Hunting partner?” asked Helen. “Are you talking about Art Rogers? He and Big Spence go hunting every year for deer. I’m not sure why. They never catch anything.” She turned to me and winked.

She knew. Fucking hell, she knew. I bit my lip.

She turned to face Spencer and his father. “Now, there’s a great seafood place here called Crystal on the Lake. I want to eat there.”

Spencer’s father seemed quite subdued after that. He didn’t say anything on the way back to the car. I tried not to look smug, but he had more than that coming. He talked a little about the weather on the way to the restaurant, and when we arrived, he mentioned how beautiful the lake was. He didn’t say anything after ordering his meal.

Spencer’s mother was adorable. She chatted about things she had done while he was gone, rumors she’d heard, and plans for both Spencer and me when we were on Christmas break. That surprised me because she didn’t know that I wasn’t going home for the break. I’d have a warmer Christmas in an igloo on an iceberg than in that home.

After we ate, Spencer and his mother took a little walk together and left us on a bench, under an old live oak tree. He didn’t say anything. Finally, I said, “I love Spencer, and whatever’s his is his; it has nothing to do with me. I intend to get my degree, and pay my own way. I don’t want to be a thorn in your side.”

“I’ll give you two hundred fifty thousand.”

‘Whoa,’ I thought. I looked at him. He was completely serious. “No,” I shook my head. “This isn’t about your money, it’s about my happiness and his. You know, I was going to use your friendship with Art Rogers to make sure you didn’t try to break us up.”

He coughed.

“But it seems that Mrs. Greene already knows about him, so my leverage, as it were, is gone. I just want to make Spencer happy. He makes me happy. I don’t want your money.”

Spencer and his mother came back in view and waved at us.

“You fucking told her, you piece of shit?”

“No, I didn’t tell her, but I know she knows. When you fuck someone for years and years, do you really think you can keep it a secret? And, do you think it’s nice to call your future son-in-law a piece of shit? I told you, I don’t want anything from you. I’m not here to take Spencer away from you. What you do next will let him know that you still love him and want him around. Please don’t hurt him. He loves you.” I got up stiffly and walked out of earshot; I was ready to go home.

I was sitting back on Spencer’s bed. My books for the next day were in my backpack; my clothes were on his dresser. He sat with his legs under mine and his back against the window sill. He broke the silence. “What did my mom say after we got out of the car?”

“She told me that no matter what, she would be on my side. She said she trusts your decisions.”

“Interesting.”

“No, she’s just demonstrating that she knows you’ve picked a hot stud with ravenous good looks, the body of an Adonis, and a dick that makes her cocksucker, cum-slut son happy.”

“You do have a gift for putting things in perspective.” Spencer cocked his head as he looked at me.

“Do I get to hear what they said to you after I left?”

“I’m not going to keep any secrets from you.”

“Some secrets are OK,” I told him.

“OK,” he nodded.

“OK.”

“Like what?” Spencer asked.

“Such as you’re getting the clap when you were in ninth grade.”

“Who told you that?” he demanded.

“Probably Vincent.”

“I see. It was sixth grade.”

“Sixth? So, what I want to know is how you got it,” I insisted.

“I was in a talent show, and I was a big hit. Everyone applauded. So when I got home I told them that I got The Clap. When my mother asked me where I’d heard that, I told them that I heard Father tell someone on the phone that Ernie Pinkston got the Clap at an out of town meeting. I assumed they meant he got a round of applause.”

“You’re adorable,” I said.

“When you left, my mother said that my father wasn’t going to give me any trouble about my life choices. She told him that she had documentation about his hunting trips. He didn’t look happy, but he looked at me and said, ‘Fuck up your life if you want to, kid. I won’t say a thing.’ I did get him to say he’d take care of Vincent’s lawyer and would let me know when we can visit him.”

“Do you believe him?”

“Don’t know. I think we’re good for now. I’m not sure what will happen after graduation, but that’s a little over three years away.”

“Gee,” I said. That’s over a thousand nights.”

He reached over and tickled me. “I’m going to have one sore pecker.”

“You’re going to have sore ass to match,” I retorted.

That night, we made a promise to take turns being top. Every other day was the rule, we decided. We broke that rule that very night, and many nights after that.

Three weeks later, we were on our way to some town I’d never heard of in southeast Texas. Al’s funeral service was being held at one o’clock. In order to make it there, we had to leave before dawn. I had agreed to give a small eulogy, but that’s before I’d read the purple notebook. I’d talked to Spencer about backing out, but he told me that I would forever regret it. I thought about becoming upset after the first sentence or two and having to be escorted away, but I wondered whether I would be able to manufacture tears with the deep anger and animosity that I was feeling. Steve was driving, and Bill was in the passenger seat. I stared out the window at the moon while I hoped that sleep would come and stop my thoughts.

It was eleven in the morning when we came into town. A quick trip by the funeral home to let us know where it was; although, with the news trucks out front, it wasn’t hard to spot. I told Steve to find Missy’s for lunch. It was a small restaurant that Al had mentioned a few times as having the best burgers he’d ever eaten.

The four of us went inside. It was crowded, but we found a table. The waitress asked whether we were reporters. We told her that we were friends of Al from school. “He didn’t really have friends here in town. He was a nice kid. I’m glad he found some after he left. It’s a real shame what happened to him.” She comped our meal, so we left what we had intended to pay as a tip. We walked out into a cloudy day. A few dark clouds were on the horizon.

“I wish it would start to rain. Heaven should cry for him,” I said as we got back in the car and headed to the funeral home.

I had just walked in when I saw his name on the announcement board. My tears began to flow. It had been made real again. I took a seat in the first row. My breathing was labored. Someone brought me a bottle of water. Spencer’s arm was around my shoulder. The man from the funeral home asked if I was still OK to speak. I looked up and saw Al’s high school graduation picture on his casket.

I’m not sure where the time went but it seemed that the room suddenly filled with people. Music began to play. Someone got up to say that we were here to celebrate the life of Alvin Gorsuch. A woman, who said she was his mother, got up and said nice things about him, how she loved him, how she would miss him, how he was the apple of her eye. And all I thought was ‘lying bitch.’

My turn came. I stood up and turned to face everyone. “Good Afternoon. My name is Ryan Cooper; I, along with these gentlemen here,” I pointed to the others, “are just some of the friends that Alvin made at the university. He was an absolute joy to be around; always happy; making us laugh when we were down. We miss him very much.

“As happy as he was, he was even happier when he met and fell in love with Todd Nicola.” I heard a gasp from somewhere in the back, and I took a breath.

Then his mother poked the guy sitting next to her. “You’re the one who turned him into a faggot.”

That turned off my self-control switch. I saw Spencer look over at her, his face pale. He looked up at me. “Letting your boyfriend rape him didn’t turn him gay.” There were more gasps. “Nor did selling him the judge each week.” There was some grumbling from a few rows back. A woman stood up and slapped the man next to her before storming out of the place. “It’s really sad that there was no one here he could trust to tell. Alvin was like a brother to me. Y’all missed so much not knowing him.”

I turned around and walked up to the casket. I put my hand on it. “I love you, Alvin Gorsuch.” Then I took the photograph and walked out.

No one spoke as I did.