The Interviewee

This is gay erotic fiction. If you are offended by graphic descriptions of homosexual acts, go somewhere else.

Neither this story nor any parts of it may be distributed electronically or in any other manner without the express, written consent of the author. All rights are reserved by the author who may be reached at cepes@mail.com.

This is a work of fiction, any resemblance of the characters to anyone living or dead is pure coincidence and not intended. They are all products of the author's overactive imagination.

The Interviewee Part 11

After a good couple of hours reviewing the materials for my engagement next week, I knew I needed a break. I wanted to decompress and think about what I might do if Chris followed through on his plans. Did I want to follow him off to god knows where? Did I want to dump my current career path? Did I want to become dependent on Chris' Dad, the early inheritance as Chris called it, if I couldn't get a well-paying job in upstate New York? Was it time to consider more school; Cornell was right around the corner.

Coffee and a table to sit at would very likely help me begin to sort this out. As I stood up and started walking toward the elevator, I glanced at the staffing offices. I remembered that I had a meeting tomorrow, Friday, to discuss my concerns about Julie, my current mentor. If I were serious about leaving L.A. with Chris, I didn't really need to worry about Julie anymore. I didn't really need to worry about this job anymore. Both thoughts were very liberating. Two points to the `go with Chris' column.

As my feet continued walking, my mind started tallying the rest of the pros and cons.

Pros:

1. Starting a new life is a good thing, particularly with someone you

love.

1. I love Chris; he loves me.

2. Watching Chris learn to cook professionally and eating the mistakes

will be great.

1. Upstate New York couldn't be that bad.

2. It was time for a new job.

3. It was time for everything, save Chris, to be new.

Cons:

1. Explaining this to the parents would be a challenge.

2. Being the passive mover was a bit of a blow to the ego.

3. Uncertainty is troubling: what would I do, how much would it cost?

Stupid, really, making mental lists like this. Spending all these years in management consulting had turned my brain to mush. Everything became a bulleted, or numbered, list. I didn't even know if I still possessed the ability to write in complete sentences, stringing them together into paragraphs. Maybe I should take this sabbatical into the hinterlands with Chris and try my hand again at writing. Dig out the half-finished novel from the desk drawer; look at it; edit it; throw it out; start over; write something good and true.

I was definitely warming to the idea. It was a solution to nearly all of the problems I thought I had: lack of professional satisfaction, proving to Chris I still loved him, getting out of the rut, building a new life. Of course, biding my time here for the next nine months and longer while Chris does his six months of interning, then applies, then starts would probably drive me mad. Thank god for the rolling schedules at the cooking school--waiting for the next admissions window and then for another September to roll around would be maddening. How people going to business school or medical school could deal with it was a mystery.

But, if I knew I would be leaving, if I could keep that card in my pocket and remember it every time some dunce pissed me off, that fact alone would help to keep me sane. There would be an out; there was a light at the end of the tunnel. But, it would be my little joke, my scherzo. I could smile even as the four horsemen descended upon the office because I knew I had these plans all arranged.

There could be so many ways to take advantage of the situation. I could be happy in the face of unpleasant tasks. Or I could begin to concentrate on improving my quality of life by turning down projects that are good for the career but bad for living. Control felt like it was shifting back to me. The smile that washed across my face was definite proof that I was becoming ecstatic about how I could use this serendipitous opportunity to better my life, our life together.

If Chris were serious, I would stand beside him, wherever he went. I decided I would drive up to Malibu and see him at the dive he was working at; I would be glad to give him this news. The only thing I had to fear was my impatience getting the best of me; nine or ten months was still a long time to wait.

The elevator doors opened onto the lobby and I stepped out. What a world of difference a few moments make, from doubt to certainty; what a changed world since yesterday, from tears to smiles. I didn't really need the coffee or the time to think anymore, but a break was welcome whenever it presented itself.

My feet and smile crossed the lobby quickly and were headed toward the line (always a line here!) when my eyes, scanning the room, stumbled upon a backside that looked extremely familiar. Either that was Alex or I was having hallucinations.

I walked over to the table where my phantasm was seated. I put one hand on his shoulder. A head turned to look at me and I saw Alex.

"Hello."

"Hi. What are you doing here?" He smiled.

"Enjoying the coffee. I got so used to it that I decided I needed another dose before having to start up school again."

I smiled at his little white lie. The coffee wasn't good enough to get someone on a bus on one of the few remaining days of a school vacation.

"Right." I walked to an empty chair and sat down. "I'm glad you came...to have more coffee." Two could play this game.

"I really missed sitting here at the table, drinking this coffee."

"What did you miss about it?"

"Talking to you." I was moved; he had decided to stop playing games.

"I missed talking to you, too. Would you like to continue this conversation outside?" He nodded. I was glad not to be having this conversation inside my office building. Even if there was an exit plan, I couldn't use it for ten months.

When we got outside, I was struck by two facts: it was a beautiful day, blue skies, warm but not hot, picture postcard perfect and very strange for this time of year in Los Angeles. My watch also told me it was 11.30, almost time for lunch.

"You wanna take a walk and get some lunch?"

Alex nodded and gave an affirmative grunt, looking around for where we would be going.

"The mall. Just a couple of blocks over there. They have a food court, but you probably already know that." He nodded. Now that we weren't talking ostensibly about coffee, Alex seemed a little quieter. Time to kick start the conversation.

"How long were you waiting?"

"I've been drinking coffee since 9.00."

"Wow. I'm sorry. If I had any idea you'd be down there--" My genuine remorse was stopped short by Alex touching my shoulder.

"There was no way you could have known. I wanted to surprise you. So, I just brought along a book. I was beginning to get nervous that you weren't in today or weren't going to have coffee." I returned the gesture by putting my arm on his shoulder.

A few moments passed, the silence was comfortable. I wanted to ask him how he was feeling about last Friday; why he decided to come back. Being reticent to re-open recent wounds, I decided to let Alex broach those questions.

He started chatting about finishing up his senior year, about tests, about wishing he were already done. I think he was fishing around to see if I knew anything about the admissions decisions at my alma mater. He must have thought that the interviewers found out earlier than the applicants: wrong. We were the absolute last in the food chain and I told him so. He grinned back, abashed. It must have been troubling that he was transparent on that particular topic.

We had food on a little table and were starting to eat when Alex decided to begin the serious part of the conversation.

"I was really pissed at you last week."

"I know. I'm so sorry for what I did, hurting you--" Aggressive Alex seemed to have returned.

"Let me finish. I was crying the entire weekend, I was absolutely miserable. You are the only gay guy I know and you turn me down flat." His voice had gotten huskier as he spoke. Even his vocal cords were swelling with emotion.

"I'm sure there are others at your school--"

"I said first gay guy I know. I know of a lot of others. People I know well enough to say hi to or talk to about a community service project. But, you're the first who I really talked to, interrogated, who knew me." He took a drink of his soda. "And you said no."

"Hold on. You told me--"

"I know what I told you. I wanted to seem experienced. I lied." His eyes broke contact with mine.

"All the more reason why I could never do what I thought I wanted to do." Alex looked at me again, massively confused.

I explained my own take on the situation. How I had taken Alex as an idee fixe and couldn't get rid of him; how I couldn't do the deed once I got the impression I would be opening up virgin territory.

"Why," he asked.

"The long and short of it is, well, I was abused as a kid. Sexually. I find sex pretty difficult to deal with. When I figured out you were no where near as experienced as you said you were, it brought up bad memories." I started getting misty.

"I like you very much as a person, Alex. I want to be there for you. I want to introduce you to people, to show you what's out there."

"Hmm."

"What are you doing tonight?" A plan had begun to form.

"Nothing special."

"Good. You can come with me. I want you to meet someone."

"Who?"

"My boyfriend." Alex blanched.

"Yeah, he knows. In fact, our little aborted get together has helped Chris and me become closer."

"Chris, huh?"

"Yeah, Chris. He wants to meet you. He said something like he wanted to meet the person who got me excited."

"Pretty open guy?" Alex was still looking for reassurance.

"Yeah, he's great. He was just giving me shit about being an ice princess in college. We were classmates, I think I already told you that." He nodded.

"I want you to meet him."

This time the silence was strained. I was asking a lot from a person I didn't know well; a person who didn't even know if he could trust me.

"Fine. I will. Where?"

"He'll be working. We can drive up and see him." To a little dive in Malibu.

He nodded and returned to grazing on his food, a fancy, expensive burrito, chips, and a substandard, but very hot salsa. We both ordered the same thing. What was it with this place?

"I've been wondering one thing, Alex. What made you come back? Your e-mail told me to go away. But, you're here."

He was still chewing. He started chewing faster. A swallow.

"It was the letter you sent. It was beautiful. I knew you were serious. It helped me to see where you're coming from."

"It took me a while to get up the courage to try this again. To risk getting hurt. But, I'm glad I did. You were serious."

"Yes, I was. I'm glad the letter helped. It was the only thing I could think to send."

"It was just the right thing." I looked down at his tray, decimated. Mine, too.

"Done?" Alex nodded. We bussed our garbage.

"So, you'll come tonight?"

"Yeah. What time?"

"How about 6.00? We need to drive to Malibu." He nodded.

We started walking back to my building. "You going to sit in the coffee shop?"

"No, I'll kill the rest of the day in the library." It was a couple blocks away.

"Okay, I'll see you in the lobby here at 6.00?" I reached out and held his shoulder, a smile forming on my face. Alex nodded and started walking off in the opposite direction. What a great ass. (Hey, he's now a friend; I can look and comment on these things.)

I looked at my watch, almost 12.45. We'd been talking for more than an hour. It was the first hour in what I hoped would be a strong friendship for the both of us. I was liking Alex more and more. I hoped having gay friends would do him good; I know Chris and I would enjoy watching a cute little protege advance through the world. Now, if there were only some way to make sure he got the thick envelope on admissions decision day, the whole thing would be perfect.

To be continued.

Author's Note: I would thank everyone for their generous comments about my story. I appreciate hearing your comments on this story or anything else. You can send me a message at cepes@mail.com. I enjoy responding to all the messages I receive.

If you get a chance, check out http://archerland.net. Great site, great stories, worth a visit.