X-Factor

X-FACTOR (chapter four) by reid

I never slept well as a child.

Sleep was the one time you're supposed to feel completely safe.

But it never was for me.

I never felt safe when I slept. My brain was always on the lookout for some sort of shock-and-awe attack from the waking world. Pounding on my door. An airhorn six inches from my ear or a bucket of water dumped on me because of some rule transgression. Never in my life did I ever feel especially secure when I laid my head on a pillow.

So it was a new feeling.

Even though I was sleeping in what I considered `enemy territory.'

I guess I knew it was Trey being there with me. Something in me knew that if he was there, I could feel safe. The way he'd handled the girl in the sandwich shop had convinced me. The way he'd helped me when my head hurt too much to eat. Even the way he helped me through open doors. All of it had convinced me, if nothing else, that Trey could protect me from harm.

So when I woke up to a pounding on his door, my heart didn't leap to my throat. I didn't sit bolt upright in bed. I didn't reflexively reach for something to throw in the area of the pounding. All I did was roll over and blink my eyes. No real thoughts of `fight or flight' taking over my brain.

Until I realized where I was.

Whomever was banging on the door probably didn't approve of such company staying over. People like me were theft risks. Or so I heard.

"Ice!" A deep voice called, then more pounding.

I peeked over the bed at the floor. Trey was sacked out on his stomach, his hair mussed up, his mouth open. A big, unshaven angel he looked like. I smiled, in spite of my anxiety over the situation.

"Ice!" Very deep voice this one had.

Not to mention impatient.

Daringly, I leaned over and shook Trey. Gently. I put my hand on his shoulder, trying not to stop and marvel at it's firmness. I rustled him as softly as I could. Such a warm shoulder.

Trey didn't respond much. He murmured and adjusted himself against the pile of clothes. I wondered what it would feel like to be the clothes underneath him as he did that.

"Trey!" I whispered, not wanting to hear the voice outside again.

No real response. Just an annoyed grunt.

"Trey!" I repeated, a little too loudly.

Then I shook him again. A little harder than I'd intended.

This time, it did the trick. Trey raised himself up and blinked his eyes. They were puffy and sort of squinty. Why my body insisted on feelings of sex when I was at death`s door was a mystery to me.

Trey smacked his lips a few times and yawned. Cleared his throat. Rubbed his eyes. Ran his fingers through his hair. My God, he was like a big, sexy television show.

Then he looked at me and smiled dozily. How I didn't make some sort of pathetically longing whimper, I'll never know. Just looking at his hair hanging down messily in front of his eyes was - breathtaking.

"Hey Cody." His voice was husky and phlegmy.

"Ice! Get out here, bitch!"

Trey didn't seem especially intimidated by the harsh language. Instead, he scowled at the door and yawned. Slowly, he sat up and cleared his throat. I began to feel as if time was of the essence and he should attend to the morning caller as soon as possible.

He disagreed. Slowly, Trey got to his feet and stretched. I watched, in a weird sort of awe at his casualness. When he scratched his ass, I tried not to drool.

"Ice!"

With a groan, Trey carefully stepped over to the door.

"Should I go for the window?" I whispered.

Trey looked at me like it was the most alien notion in the world. He ruffled his hair again and cleared his throat. I noticed that I could see his red boxer-brieds through the fly of his pajama pants.

"Stay put, chief." Trey said calmly.

Then he opened the door. Not far enough for me to be seen, but enough to stick himself out and talk to whomever had been banging on the door. I held my breath and prayed that whomever it was couldn't smell my lack of money or connections.

"Tex," Trey said with elaborate calm, "What the fuck?"

This deep voiced gentleman, apparently named Tex, responded, "Ice - dude, I need to know where your brother works."

"Why?"

"He said he can get me in for an interview this summer."

Trey paused for a second, "He's on extension five at Ferrari in Boston. Call the main office and they can set you up. Try and call before noon, he usually gets pretty smashed at lunch."

"Hell yeah! Rob Morgan, right?"

Trey didn't say anything. I assumed he must have nodded.

"Thanks! I owe you, Ice!"

Footsteps took off back down the hall and Trey closed the door. Rubbing his eyes again, he shuffled over to the bed and brazenly sat down next to me. Not like on the couch in the kitchen. He literally dropped himself on the bed right next to me, the impact causing us to nestle together.

He sure had a pleasantly warm body.

After the momentary shock had passed, I realized Trey hadn't moved. He simply sat next to me, our bodies snuggled together, and ruffled his hair, pushing it back on his head. Exhaling loudly, he rested his head against the wall.

"So," I said, hoping that interaction would stave off sensory overload, "Who's `Ice'?"

Trey smiled, "It's my name in `the brotherhood.'"

I frowned.

"My frat nickname."

"Why is it `Ice?'"

He smirked, "Ice Trey. As in ice tray.' The senior brothers when I pledged remembered an episode of Fresh Prince of Bel Air' that had a character named `Ice Tray.' Therefore, my legend was born."

I smiled. As fratty as it was, it sure was cute.

"So `Tex' is from Texas?" I asked.

"Nah," Trey shook his head, laughing slightly, "When he pledged, he had to walk around with one of those fridge magnets shaped like Texas shoved up his ass," Trey began to laugh, "So he became `Tex' and while he tells people his dad is a rich oil tycoon - he really had to have his anus stitched up because the magnet cut him when he tried to run away from a senior brother he spilled beer on." Trey could barely finish because he was laughing so hard.

I, on the other hand, looked at him in horror.

Did these types of things actually happen?!

When Trey saw the look on my face, he stopped laughing and coughed. He sighed and cleared his throat.

"I guess you had to be there." He said softly.

Once he'd stopped, I realized how gorgeous he was when he was cracking up. Whenever Trey seemed genuinely happy and enjoying life, there hadn't been anything I'd seen that was more beautiful. Before he could catch me swooning, I shrugged.

"I guess so," I paused, "I was kinda nervous when he was banging on the door."

"Don't be," Trey smirked, "He has a deep voice but he's really like five foot six. And if he does ever give you any shit," Trey stifled another laugh, "Just call him `Ass Magnet' and he'll turn red and shut up."

Trey began to break up again but he managed to keep it under control. He did his adorable little `I'm not laughing' cough and exhaled deeply. Then we sat quietly. Weirdly enough, it wasn't an awkward silence. Just very - comfortable.

Until I fucked it up. Of course.

"So," I sighed, "Ready to get rid of me?"

Trey smiled, "Are you wanting to leave?"

He said it without the g. `Wantin'

"I should probably get back, shower, and change." I said casually, not wanting to leave or do anything other than be with Trey for as long as I could.

As soon as class was over, Trey would probably get busy and rushed with being the big popular guy. I'd get busy with sitting on my ass, crushing on Trey, and convincing myself he didn't like me.

Trey nodded, "Okay, let me go change and I'll meet you downstairs?"

I nodded back, trying not to look pained. It wasn't easy.

Trey stood and picked up the clothes he'd worn yesterday. Then he rooted around in the suitcase and pulled out a different outfit. Without much thought, he tossed his old clothes on the pile he'd slept upon. Just adding to the mattress, I guessed.

After he'd left, I rubbed my eyes and swallowed hard. It hurt me to realize how intent I seemed to be on fucking up anything between Trey and I. Like trying to stop a car rolling downhill and not being strong enough to keep it from going any further.

It hurt.

Yawning, I stood up and stretched, dragging my shoes around and sliding my feet into them. I felt like a dead man walking as I looked around the room, getting the feeling like I wouldn't see it again anytime soon. That weird, child-like feeling where you knew you've fucked up a good thing and now you just want to cry because you know you'll never have it again.

But I didn't cry. Thank God.

Crying in a frat house would have driven me to self-injury.

Gingerly, I opened the door to Trey's room and peeked out. Down the hall, I could vaguely hear talking and laughing. In one of the rooms, I could hear a clock radio playing uninterrupted. Stupidly enough, I looked at the ceiling to see if there were any booby traps. I still didn't want to be too careful.

Once I'd made it to the stairs and took them one by one, careful not to make them squeak, I began to feel better. No one had jumped out. No one had accosted me at beer-bong point. Nothing too horribly out of the ordinary. Everything looked okay.

Not sure of where to wait for Trey, I remembered the path into the kitchen. It, too, was empty. Empty and smelling of McDonalds. Someone had spilled a large amount of gritty, white powder on the floor. For an absurd moment, I thought it might be cocaine. Then I saw the overturned container of Coffee Mate.

I still kind of believed it was cocaine.

From behind, I heard two sets of footsteps on the stairs. I knew it wasn't Trey. Neither set were heavy or as solid as his. One sounded firm but the other sounded - less so. Much shakier and unsteady.

"Okay," A male voice said, one I hadn't heard, "Here's a step."

A softer, more feminine murmur. She sounded uncomfortable.

"Here's another step," Then under his voice, "Please don't puke."

Another murmur.

"Another step," Again softly, "Please don't puke."

The process continued until I saw a young guy emerge into the kitchen with his back to me. Following him, looking pale and queasy, was a girl with fried blond hair, wearing a tube-top and a pair of tight black pants. Her makeup was smeared and she looked on the wrong side of a keg.

Gently, he led her into the kitchen. I wasn't sure to hide under the table of if my presence was less of a concern than other guests. I couldn't help but smile as the guy got her off the stairs and took a deep breath. It sounded like both relief and triumph.

Then she saw me. Her hungover gaze focused on me.

"Mmm - I see a brother." She slurred.

In one drunken, unsteady charge, she sloshed over to me. I wasn't sure what she was doing until she threw her arms around my neck. Then she forced her mouth on mine. She tasted like rank tequila and flat, cheap beer. A gummy, slimy worm that was her tongue forced its way into my mouth and flopped around like a dead fish.

At once, I gagged and howled in disgust. Luckily enough, she wasn't quite lucid enough to maintain her deadlock and with the help of her date, I managed to push her away. That didn't stop her from continuing to attempt to cram her tongue in my mouth.

"Okay," The guy said, "We don't know him. We don`t orally rape the innocent."

As soon as she was pulled away, her cheeks puffed. In horror, I watched her shoulders sag convulsively. Knowing exactly what was coming, I haplessly looked for someplace to hide. Anywhere I could dodge the oncoming spew. All at once, I knew it was hopeless.

Like a burst artery, a watery, pale flood of beer, tequila, and what I assumed were chicken wings flew from her mouth. It was quite impressive. Not fun to be a part of - but definitely impressive.

This flood of projectile vomit splattered my pants and hit the floor with an audible splat. Not really able to do anything but stand there, I suddenly found the situation incredibly funny. It wasn't even my second full day and I'd already been abused by the Greek system.

Then I laughed. A soft, genuinely amused laugh.

If I wasn't going to find more things funny, this whole deal was going to end up a hell of a lot worse before it got better.

We stood there. The three of us. Myself generously splattered with puke, the girl was swaying, and this unidentified frat guy looking at the floor in mirthless-yet-resigned disgust. Some might call it a bonding experience.

Just as he was about to say something - the girl passed out.

Keeled over. Hit the floor with sweaty, tired splat.

I laughed out loud at that.

Before I could say anything to the house resident, Trey walked into the room. He was freshly showered, wearing a white t-shirt, khaki shorts, and weird quasi-hiking shoes. They looked like mountain climbing shoes. Oh, he just would be into mountain climbing.

I stopped laughing long enough to admire his legs. Just momentarily, I was reminded how long it had been since I'd waved to my chin. The suddenness of Trey's bare legs, coupled with the memory of last night (of when I'd been too shocked to notice his legs) reminded me it had been a long time. A long, celibate winter, so to speak.

"Oh God," Trey moaned, "Tank - what did you do?"

`Tank'

On second though, he did look like a `Tank.' He was somewhat short with a very thick, muscular body. Kind of like a gymnast.

Tank blustered, "I didn't - I didn't do - nothing! I didn't do a damn thing, dude!"

Trey looked at me in horror. It was a `oh God, did they hurt you?' look. My stomach did a little flutter and I tried not to blush. Why did it feel so nice to have him want to protect me?

"What happened?" Trey asked me, his tone elaborately calm.

Suddenly, I was filled with the desire to not throw Tank to the lions. I didn't want to see someone who hadn't immediately pulled the `intruder' alarm when he saw me. Maybe he was too shocked to do so. Maybe I just wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt.

"Uh, I came down into the kitchen and they came down the stairs," I said, as carefully as possible, "Then she puked and passed out and you got here."

Tank and I made eye contact. I could tell he was grateful.

Why was he grateful?

Was I becoming Trey's - other half?

That was a scary thought. But not entirely unwelcome.

Trey nodded. He ran his fingers through his hair and exhaled. The tension left the room and I got a little thrill. It was almost like I was connecting with people. I just hoped that Tank would remember how I'd saved his ass when it came time to decide my fate.

"Aren't you going to introduce me?" Tank asked Trey.

"Oh! Yeah," Trey said, "Cody, this is Brian - a.k.a. Tank."

Tank, or Brian as I preferred, held out his hand. I shook it and was instantly amazed at how strong his grip was. Strong but very gentle. Quite a bit like Trey. Maybe these frat boys weren't so bad.

"The new golf star?" Brian asked.

I nodded. I liked that tag less and less every time I heard it.

Of course, the girl was lucid enough to hear this part. She propped herself up on one elbow. After coughing and hocking a gigantic wad of puke and spit on the floor, she made a pissy face.

In a voice not unlike that of a screeching car alarm, she whined, "So I fucking kissed somebody that isn't a brother here?! Fuck that shit!"

Messily, she tried to get back up but stumbled. This charming maiden fell backwards and knocked into a book case. Several Chinese food containers spilled onto the floor as well as papers and other assorted pieces of garbage. She whimpered pitifully - it sounded very practiced. It sounded like her `help me you big strong man' whine.

Brian looked at Trey nervously. Trey closed his eyes and shook his head. Did Trey not like hearing that she'd kissed me? That would be very weird if it were true.

"Tank - will you get your girlfriend out of here, okay please thanks?" Trey said softly, sounding no angrier than Mr. Rogers.

Brian looked nauseated, "Dude - she's not my girlfriend. She crawled in the rec room window last night and fell asleep in Jay's bed. He's not back from Boston yet so--"

Trey stopped him with an elaborately calm nod. Wordlessly, he handed me a wet dishtowel. I did my absolute best to clean off some of the puke without having to touch any of it. Not an easy task.

Brian turned, smiled as genially as he could, and did his best to help the girl up. Despite being helpless and wanting assistance, she didn't do a very good job of being pliable. She giggled drunkenly as he got her to her feet and steered her towards the door.

When they were gone, Trey rubbed his face. He rubbed it with the completeness and frustration of a harried parent. I smiled. I couldn't help it. It was very cute. Everything about him was cute.

He looked at me, "Ready to go?"

Something in his tone made me laugh. It was an `abandon all hope' tone. It made me feel like we were on the same level somehow. Sort of like Trey and I weren't so different. Maybe the money didn't separate us as much as I thought.

But the truck was still going down hill.

Maybe I could stop the truck.

There was dangerous hope again. I began to despise hope.

Rather than saying anything like what I felt, I nodded. I was getting very good at nodding. Nodding was becoming a very safe, solid way for me to avoid having to answer any questions. Just as I despised hope, I began to love the nod.

"After you." Trey said, gesturing towards the front room.

The drive back to my dorm had been blessedly uneventful. It was a beautiful, warm day. Trey wore sunglasses on the drive. Dark, wire rimmed shades that were probably more expensive than anything I'd ever owned. Yes, he did look quite lovely in his sunglasses as well.

They also gave me sort of a chance to admire his legs undetected. I was shocked to discover that doing so was like trying to eat an entire chocolate cake for dinner: too much of it and you start to get a little sick with overindulgence. Not to mention how he draped his big, muscular calf over the middle of the car again.

Like the night before, his bare skin was inches from my hand.

Reached by my tongue in a nanosecond. Or less.

Feeling dizzy, I closed my eyes. It had been such a long time since I'd been alone with myself. Such a very long time.

Trey parked his car on the street and walked with me into the dorm. Like the romantic fool he was, he seemed insistent on walking me to my door at least.

Even as we walked, I could see the looks people gave him.

Jealous was how I felt.

When we reached the door of my dorm, I expected him to stop. To my surprise, he opened the door and motioned me in. When I went inside, I felt the lovely pressure of his hand on my back. The nerves in my spine tingled.

At the door of my room, Trey stopped. He took his sunglasses off and hooked them in the neck of his t-shirt. As normal and approachable as he was, he still managed to be the big man on campus. Not even very intentionally. Just when he did little things like that.

"Want me to wait?" He asked.

"Why?"

"Give you a ride to class, maybe?"

I shook my head, "No, that's okay. I'll just walk."

Trey simply looked at me.

"It's not far."

"I know." Trey said.

"So - I'll see you there?"

"I guess so," Trey sighed, "Take your shower and I'll see in you class."

"I will."

He smiled. Not his half-smile. Not his genuine smile.

It was his tired smile.

My stomach stung. The truck was rolling down the hill.

Not wanting to get emotional, I put my hand on the door and gave him my bravest smile. It was a `see, you can't hurt me' smile. I didn't like feeling as though I had to give it to him - but I did.

"Cody?" He asked softly.

I looked at him.

"Your last class is English 103, right?"

I nodded.

"Weaver Building?"

I nodded again.

"I'm gonna wait for you. Give you a ride back here, okay?"

"Okay. Sounds good." I said, nodding as agreeably as possible.

It only took me a half-second I convince myself he was going to give me the `let's be friends' speech. Just to cut off any hope I was beginning to build up.

Trey smiled again and left. He just left. Just turned and walked away. Didn't look back, didn't say anything else. When he was out of the hallway, I banged my head against my door in frustration. Not hard enough to injure - just hard enough to punish.

Once I'd gotten inside, the animal urge to release my tension was too much to ignore. Not wanting to be too classy, I pulled my puke-stained pants down around my knees and began flailing away. I always stood up when I beat off because of how it put pressure on my balls. Somehow felt better that way.

My mind still wanted to think about the talk' we were going to have. The talk' where I was let down gently. The `talk' that was about as pleasant as a kick in the head. Mercifully, my groin didn't let me think too much.

As I beat my meat over the trashcan, another classy touch, I imagined Trey. His hairy, muscular body. Massaging it. Kissing it. Feeling it squirm and writhe under me. I tying him to the bed and teasing him for a long time before finally letting him cum all over both of us. I imagined the cum hanging in his body hair - massging it in and making the hair even curlier.

I even imagined his areolas. Dark and rock hard.

It had been a while since my last self-pleasuring and when I finally let myself go, it was an impressive gout. Thick streams hit the waste basket with a metallic thunk and some splattered the wall. Some hit my pants but that didn't bother me because they needed to be washed anyway.

Where the hell was the laundry room, anyway?

Once my load had been delivered, I felt that good old Jacker's Shame. Not only had I wasted a good ten minutes of my life, I'd sullied Trey's reputation. All day long, people would look at him and think, `Boy, that Trey sure looks sexier than usual! Did he do something different with his hair? No, Cody Young must have busted a nut thinking about that furry six pack of his.'

What a nice way to treat the man of my dreams.

I showered with little fear of any embarrassing erections. Not that there was any really choice manmeat in there with me. It wasn't much of a temptation to say the least.

As I got dressed, I noticed that I had a message on my phone. Dialing into the voicemail center, I heard Gina's cheery voice. She sounded like she knew where I'd been and who I'd been with. But out of the goodness of her heart, she pretended otherwise. I knew when I saw her, she'd be able to confirm it.

I also had a message from Gilly. Apparently, the fat walrus-like bastard was very eager to meet me over brunch. Not breakfast. Not lunch. That meal inbetween where you get a little slice of cantaloupe. My stomach turned as I wondered how much brunch Gilly could fit into his gigantic stomach.

Trey had a stomach. Not a gigantic stomach. A very nice, flat stomach. A stomach I'd seen the night before.

In that instant, I nearly retched. The last thing I wanted to do was create some nasty connection in my mind between Trey and Gilly. Although I wanted to have affection for Gilly because without him, I never would have met Trey.

The same Trey who had just left mirthlessly.

The one who was getting ready to deliver the `dude - you're cute but I just like you as a friend' speech. Yeah, I remembered that Trey. The one I'd royally fucked things up with. I knew that Trey all too well.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I finished dressing myself.

The walk to class hadn't changed.

It was the same Brown University.

People didn't stone me. They couldn't smell my meager beginnings.

They couldn't smell my trashiness.

Like I had the day before, I checked my armpits. No stench.

The classroom was the same. The same stadium-style arena I'd never expected to see in ten lifetimes. Still had the same LCD screen that could have bought and sold my family crest a few hundred times. I looked around and saw many of the same students. None of them seemed any snobbier or unapproachable as they had the day before. Still funny how that worked.

On reflex, and some level of hope, I sat in the same seat. Trey wasn't anywhere to be seen in the room - something I'd done the second I'd walked in. Like so many times in high school, I half-expected him to walk in, see me, and sit somewhere else. Or not even see me at all.

Of course, that didn't happen.

Trey walked in the south end of the room.

Like any good campus big man, he nodded and smiled to several other students. Exchanged the godawful handshake-into-the-hug with others. Laughed at some of their one-liners. I smiled myself and nearly let out a wistful sight at how dreamy he was.

Then he saw me. Here was where we would sit somewhere else.

But he didn't. Trey smiled when he saw me. Carrying his spiral notebook, he tapped it against his leg and jumped over the bank of chairs at the back of the room. He was still wearing the khaki shorts. Still exposing his legs to the world, I couldn't help but notice.

Rather than sitting where he had the day before, he sat closer.

Weirdly enough, that wasn't what surprised me.

There wasn't anyone else sitting near me. I was sitting alone.

Other groups, many whom Trey had greeted, looked confused as he sat down next to me. Close to me. In the next seat. So close that if either of us lost concentration, our legs would rub together.

He looked at me apologetically.

"Hey."

I nodded and smiled.

"I'm sorry if I seemed a little pissy when I left."

"It's cool." I nodded, playing things fast and loose.

"I just get tired when I have to apologize for my brothers, you know?"

"I understand." I nodded again.

Maybe he wasn't going to give me the kiss-off speech. Maybe I actually had something here. As dangerous as hope could be, I didn't want to hate it right then. I wanted to embrace it. Suddenly, my heart didn't feel as heavy and sunk. The truck seemed to stop rolling down the hill.

"Yeah?"

I nodded. Damn, it was an easy way to communicate.

"Cool," He said, sounding relieved, "Still gonna wait for me?"

That'll just be another nod there, buddy!

Suddenly, Trey didn't seem so happy.

"I'll see you then, I guess."

I nodded. It was like crystal meth.

We sat in silence. It seemed comfortable to me.

After class had ended, Trey and I exchanged a nice little goodbye. Not sappy or romantic. Just sort of an `I'll see you later' goodbye. It was nice and reassuring. Or just sort of helped me tread water. As nice as our goodbye was, Trey still seemed - off, somehow.

Gina caught up with me on my way to class. Like I'd expected, she didn't seem especially in the dark as to where I'd been. Just the knowing look she gave me as we walked down the sidewalk was enough to make me blush. God willing I could blame that on the warm day.

"So - did you go eat last night?" She asked, ever so casually.

"Sure did. The food sucked but it sucked less than it did at home. So it was a nice change, you know?"

She smiled, "Did you eat with anyone?"

"Maybe."

"Good," Gina said, "You should always eat after a head injury."

Shocked, I looked at her. I didn't know what to say.

She just laughed.

"Cody, word gets out."

"What do you mean?! What word got out?!"

"Just that some poor freshman on the golf team was bashed by a beer keg at the Phi Psi house last night. There's a rumor you - I mean, he called a lawyer."

I couldn't help but laugh, "Good idea."

"Yeah, I think he should just to screw with the frat guys. But then again - there's the whole `love' thing."

"What love thing?" I said, disliking it being said outloud.

"Oh - just that love might get in the way of a lawsuit," Gina shrugged, "I don't understand it - but then again, I'm single."

"Wait - what `love?'"

Gina just smiled. We were at the door.

Reflexively, I went to reach for it. When I pulled my hand back, Gina nodded approvingly. Taking hold of the handle, she held it open for me this time.

"You're learning. I see we're teaching you well." She said.

Maybe I was. Maybe they were.

The rest of my day passed with little fanfare.

Throughout the rest of the classes, I felt myself beginning to obsess about Trey again. Nothing based in any reality I'd seen. Just me attaching extra meaning to his weirdly off attitude. It was the same way he acted when I thought I'd hurt his feelings.

This time there was no triumph.

I felt myself not liking the idea that I'd hurt him.

It began to hurt me that I hurt him.

It was all I could think about.

Sitting through my other classes had been no more interesting as they had the day before. As I'd trudged through school, I always tried as hard as possible to not make any waves on the first day. For life in general, I tried not to be bad on the first day of any new situation. I learned to be, if nothing else, a good little soldier on the first day.

The second day was sometimes different. All the behaving would boomerang and I'd suddenly feel the urge to point out how lame the situation was. Not even a free ride at an Ivy League school seemed to cure me of this impulse.

After an hour of making snide comments with Gina in my Poli Sci class, the day began to drag. Diplomatic Relations was taught by a nerdy, young guy who seemed to take the class way too seriously. By the end of the week, we were to decide which country we would represent in our classes' `mock United Nations' project. Complete with an online bulletin board, fake declarations of war, fake alliances, and what I was sure would be an entirely unfake source of tension for the students.

I wanted to be East Timor.

The bright spot of my English class was that I'd be seeing Trey soon. No matter what sort of vibe our meeting would have, it still got me excited. Even if I was getting the boot-in-the-ass-out-the-door talk, I still wanted to see him. Just to savor my one last - whatever - with him.

Then hope spoke up once more.

English class droned on. Some of the other students looked at me weird when I said my favorite book was `Cat in the Hat.' Some others laughed: some who thought it was funny because I must have seemed stupid, others who thought it was somewhat cute and ironic. I just told myself that the ones who didn't get it were too drunk and spoiled to appreciate my genius.

Just as I was planning to hit the driving range and take my frustrations out on some rich old bastards, the instructors cell phone rang. After a short conversation, she explained that she had to leave. Didn't give a whole lot of explanation. Just said that `something had come up.' In my family, that meant your parents were splitting up again.

Just like that, she was gone. Fifteen minutes left in class.

As the other students began to leave, I sighed. All this meant was an extra fifteen minutes of stressing out over Trey. As I rubbed my eyes, I felt a terrifying tremble. Trembling in the hands wasn't a good thing. It meant that no matter how much I nodded or bullshitted, Trey would be able to tell how I `really' felt.

That would be bad.

Clenching my fists, I breathed deeply and stood up. My knees, a little weak, managed to move as I went out into the sun. I hadn't noticed before but it was quite warm out. Even though it was still early September, I was surprised by how evenly heated this place was. Not like the blistering heat of California.

Nervously, I scanned the area for Trey. Not having expensive sunglasses like his made it difficult. I squinted but couldn't see him. I couldn't see his bare legs, either. Although I'd pleasured myself not but a few hours earlier, the thought made me tingle.

This was the Weaver building, right? He hadn't said where we were going to meet. It wasn't a large building, nor was it's front promenade especially intimidating, but there was a good deal of open space. Trey might miss me or think I'd left or - I stopped myself. He's either going to give you the kiss-off or the - I stopped myself again. I didn't want to think of what the opposite of `kiss-off' was.

"Got out early?"

It was from behind. It was Trey.

I turned around and smiled slightly. Even with the sun glaring in my eyes, I still swooned a little when I saw him. It felt like it had been days since I'd seen him last, rather than hours. I'd missed him badly.

He could see me better than I could see him. He was wearing the sunglasses again. I fought between liking how handsome he was in them and being disappointed at not seeing his eyes as much as possible.

"Yeah," I sighed, "The teacher had to leave early."

"You okay?" Trey asked.

I didn't know what he meant, "Yeah - why?"

"You actually answered me. Very weird."

"What does that mean?"

Trey shook his head, "Nothing. You ready to go?"

I stil didn't know what he meant, but I nodded anyway."

The second drive back to my dorm was uneventful.

It wasn't relaxed. It was tense.

Trey didn't drape his leg over the seats again. He sat, straight backed, and drove the car in silence. There wasn't any of the comfortable silence that had been there before. Just a weirdly dark silence. Especially so since the day was so beautiful outside. On the sidewalks, people were dressed like they were on spring break.

I felt the lump come back in my throat. This was going to be the kiss-off talk. Whenever Trey decided to get around to it. Maybe he was pissed because I'd figured it out and he could tell. Maybe he was just tired of me. Maybe I hadn't responded the way he'd wanted. Maybe I just did that to people. It wouldn't have surprised me in the least.

When we got back to my dorm, I prayed that Eli wouldn't be there. I prayed Gina wouldn't be waiting for me. I prayed most of all that Gilly wouldn't be there, sitting on the floor with his fat legs and his gross - body. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I just wanted Trey to get it over with.

Trey stopped the car and I hoped that he'd give me the talk right there. Just break my heart right in the car. At least give me the dignity of walking back to my dorm on my own, rather than following me in and killing me on my own territory. With all the money and friends he had, he could allow me that much.

But of course, he didn't. He stopped the car, unbuckled his seatbelt, and got out. He was going to kill me right in front of my own people - whatever the hell those were. I sighed again and swallowed hard, accepting my fate.

I didn't let him do the hand thing. I beat him to the door and held it open. Not romantically but in that polite way you do when someone is just behind you and you don't want to be an ass. Trey didn't smile, he didn't really react when I did it. That's what the hitman always did before he put a bullet in someone.

Eli wasn't around. No one was around. The dorm was mostly quiet. I walked like a condemned man towards the door to my room. As I fished the keycard out of my wallet, I felt Trey approach me. On my right side. I realized this was the moment. This was the moment in the slasher movie when the killer had you corned and was raising the machete.

Trey did the thing with his sunglasses.

"So - here we are." Trey said, leaning against the wall.

"Here we are."

Trey looked surprised, "No nod that time?"

Aw damn it. He figured it out.

"Huh?" I said, feigning ignorance.

"I was just expecting you to nod rather than actually say anything."

I blushed. My cheeks immediately felt hot. Not only was he going to break my heart, he was going to psychoanalyze me. Right before he could tell me he wasn't interested, he was going to get me to admit that I wanted to be with him. How perfectly sadistic.

"Sorry?" I asked, not knowing what I was supposed to say.

"I didn't want to hear you say 'sorry.'"

I almost nodded but caught myself.

"Then - what did you want to hear?"

Trey chuckled and shrugged his shoulders, "I want to hear you talk, Cody. It's hard for me to get to know you when you tell me what I want to hear or just nod."

I shrugged. Trey laughed and ran his hand through his hair. The shrug was honest, however. This wasn't the kiss-off speech. This wasn't the sledgehammer being raised over my heart. This was - it was the kiss speech. It was the `I like you too' speech. What the hell was I supposed to do with that?!

Then he stepped close to me. My first thought was that I probably smelled bad. Trey, however, didn't seem to care. He smelled good enough for the both of us. I could smell his Old Spice shampoo. I could smell his fancy after shave. His face was only about four inches from mine.

He spoke gently, "I have to drive to Boston to help a brother move. I'll be back tomorrow and I'll come get you, okay?"

I nodded. This time, it was genuine. More so that it had been before. Maybe I was just so happy to be alive and shocked at this turn of events to say anything. No maybe about it, actually.

"When I come back, I want to hear you talk, Cody. I want to hear you talk about you, about class, about any dumb shit that comes into your head, okay?"

"Okay." My throat felt dry.

"If you don't talk to me, I'm not gonna talk. If you nod, I'll nod back. We'll both look retards. We'll never get to know each other and that'll make the golf team really awkward when we play."

"That would suck."

Trey smiled, "So yeah, chief - you're gonna talk to me?"

I didn't nod.

"I'll talk to you, Trey."

"Good," Trey smirked, "I really want you to talk to me."

For the first time since I could remember, I said exactly what I was feeling.

"I want to talk to you, Trey."

Trey smiled. His genuine, real, happy smile. The smile that was more beautiful than anything I'd ever seen. It was the smile that made me think that the first eighteen years of life are nothing but practice. Once you were out doing things for real, for yourself, that's when it all mattered.

"We do have to get to know each other," Trey said gently, "Know why?"

I swallowed, "Why?"

Trey smirked.

"Because I like you, kid."

Before I could get any words out of the desert that was my mouth, Trey leaned in. Softly and gently, like he was performing microsurgery, he kissed me. It was an innocent kiss on the corner of my mouth. His lips felt warm, soft, and dry.

I'd been kissed before - but not like that.

I liked it. I liked being kissed by Trey.

With all the confidence and coolness in the world, Trey stood back and smiled. With half of his mouth. The palm of his hand was just as soft, dry, and warm as his lips. Funny how that worked. Then, like any good Casanova of the golden age, he ruffled my hair and gently bumped his fist against my chest. Such a guy, he was.

"I'll see you tomorrow?"

I didn't nod. I started too, but caught myself.

"Not if I see you first - Ice Box."

TO BE CONTINUED ...