Legal Note: Plese don't read this if you are under the age of 18 years or the particular age of permission where ever you live.The story below is in all parts fictional. All portayal of the Backstreet Boys and other persons mentioned is in no way based on fact. All other characters are completely fictional. All names, songs, events, and other liscensed material remains so. Thank you.
hey to all you readers out there. so, I have a question: what's the deal with the lack of responses for 16-18? were they that bad? or is everyone just gone squeezing one last vacation before summer officially ends? well, let me know. so, an extra giant thanks to those who did respond-yuli, TonnY, Matt and bob. and super-sized thanks to DLS (author-Brian&Me) who helped me straighten out these parts. reader responses keep me going, so, if you get a chance, write me at bsbwriter@altavista.net with questions, comments, critiques, compliments, whatever else-please. these parts are sort of "straighten out your life" tpye sequences, so they're more discussion than action. let me know what you think!
Enjoy, EG
Part 19
I picked up the ringing cell phone. From the tightness in my chest, I knew who it would be. "Hello." I said, warily.
"Oh Adam, its really good to hear your voice."
I was overcome with emotion and then remembered the way Kevin had unceremoniously thrown me out almost a month and a half ago. "Hi Kevin," I said plainly.
"I miss you so much."
I broke down. I knew I still loved him and denying him sensitivity would just make him hurt worse. Neither of us could be held accountable for the way we had reacted. "I miss you too."
"How've you been?"
"Recovering, you?"
"Me too. When I got back, things were a mess-"
"I know, I heard."
"How?"
"Brian called me, asked me to come see you."
"Why didn't you?"
"It just would have created problems. You know that. And your managers would've hated that."
"No kidding. I'm sort of trapped in the band-I don't really mind playing the part, but it does prevent me from being true to myself-and true to you."
"I know. So what are we going to do?"
"I don't know. We're starting the Millennium tour in the states soon. Its going to be crazy until at least Christmas. We're only in each town for two days at a time. Our third date is in D.C., though...maybe you could come home to see us, spend some time with me."
"Maybe. When is it?"
"September nineteenth."
"Kev, its only August 13th."
"I know, but, our schedule's insane. We're in Florida right now, but as soon as we're done with the video, we're gone. There's no way to see you until the DC date."
"Kevin-we need to talk about what happened at the Inn. We can't just leave it."
"I know, I know."
"Now I understand why you didn't want me there at first, what with the press invasions that must have gone on after I left. But why didn't you call until now?"
"Well why didn't you call?"
"I didn't have your number."
"You know you could've gotten it-from B-rok, or Luc and Nicola..."
"Well, I just didn't feel comfortable after the way you treated me. I didn't know if that was just a rash decision or something you really meant. I felt, well, the word used comes to mind. I didn't know where we were. It was important to me for you to make the first step. Be honest-would you actually have wanted me to call?"
"Absolutely! Well...no, I guess not-fair enough." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I didn't call. We were in the middle of falling apart. By the way, have you heard from Zach?"
"No, isn't he with you?"
"Not anymore."
"Isn't he still with Nick?"
"Well, no. They had a fight-the managers found out and threatened to arrest Zach if he didn't leave."
"Oh no."
"I thought you would have heard from him by now."
"This is not good-Kevin, is Nick around?"
"Let me go check-I think so."
"Okay." I waited. I could feel my heart beat quicken and echo in my chest-I felt like a human metronome. Zach could be anywhere-he had the money, had the knowledge. And I was pretty sure he wasn't home.
"Hello?" said a raspy voice.
"Is this Nick?"
"Yeah-this is Adam, right?"
"Buddy, are you okay? You don't sound too good."
"Just a summer cold."
"Nick?"
"Yeah?"
"Could you tell me about you and Zach?"
"Uh, I guess."
"Thanks."
"Well, after you left, we hung out a lot. He was flirting with me blatantly-it was sort of obnoxious. We had a conversation about you and Kevin and how he felt about it. And Adam-turns out he's had feelings for you for a while."
"What?"
"Yeah."
"Since when?"
"Last year."
"How come he never told me?"
"Well, he said he was too unsure."
"I don't believe this."
"Yeah-so do you want me to go on?"
"Yeah," I said absently.
"We figured we were in the same boat. So we experimented a little and it turned into this uncontrollable sexual relationship. Problem was, we didn't like each other much on a personal level to begin with, so whenever one of us began to talk, the other one kissed him to shut him up. We holed up in the hotel in Boston, no eating or anything, nothing but fucking. Pretty soon, we both forgot our feelings for anyone else-we just focused on this dehumanized pleasure. One night, Zach went out to get some coffee at the convenience store, and he ended up sleeping with the girl behind the counter. I guess I cared more about him than I thought, because when he told me, I decked him."
"You what?"
"Punched him in the face. He punched back. Management noticed the black eye before the last press conference-in time enough for the makeup artist to cover it up." I thought about it, and realized I hadn't noticed-they must have done a good job. "They threatened him with jail if he didn't leave. So he did. And I haven't heard from him since. I really didn't mean to get emotionally attached, especially when I heard what happened to you and Kevin. Its a hard situation. You'll have to pardon me if I seem heartless. Right now I just have to forget it and move on with my career." I listened in silence, and was in so much shock I didn't realize it when Nick finished talking. "Hello? Adam? Still there?"
"Huh?" I answered.
"So that's the whole story."
"Oh. Wow-excuse me, I'm in total shock. Could you put Kevin back on?" I asked in total monotone.
"Sure thing."
Kevin got on the line. "Hey," he said.
"Hi. I can't believe what happened." I was in shock, but I knew later I'd be worried out of my mind. It didn't make any sense. Why had Zach encouraged me to go with Kevin if he had liked me? "This is a mess."
"No kidding."
"Kevin, I'm coming back to the states. When can I see you again?"
"Well, we're in
"Can I meet you there?"
"I'd be mad if you didn't."
"Okay, I promise."
"We just have to keep it on the down low."
"I understand. Thanks for calling."
"Adam?"
"Yeah?"
"I still love you."
"I still love you too." I blushed and said, "Bye."
"Bye." Kevin hung up.
I sat on the edge of the bed for quite sometime.
Part 20
I decided I had had enough of France and the French. I got a ticket, and readied myself to go home. It was about time. I packed my things in the suitcases, settled up with the hotel owner, and cleaned up for the flight that would leave in a few hours.
I took a long shower-or bath with a shower head I should say. The bathroom was not equipped with a shower stall per se, but a large mounted bath with a shower head on one end. I sat down, stretched my legs out, and ran the head of the shower across my body. This process of bathing felt strangely like sitting in a rain shower. I had gotten used to it. The scalding warmth of the water melted away my worries for the moment and focused my head on seeing my parents, friends, and Kevin again. I washed my hair and body, stepped out and dried off.
I slipped on the clothing I had left out-a gray t-shirt and green army cargo pants. I palmed a little gel in my hair to keep it out of my face. I had long forgotten to blow-dry it-after all, there was no one in Paris to impress. I glanced in the mirror on the wardrobe door and stepped away. I called for the bell-boy to gather my things, which he did, and called a taxi to take me to the airport.
I got to the airport and still had an hour. I dawdled in the shops for awhile, spent the last of my French currency. In the bags which now filled my hands was a terribly kitschy fake goldfish bowl with fake exotic fish which moved around when you flipped the switch for Zach, a ruby ring for my mother, Belgian chocolates for my father, and a very thin silver ring with a round turquoise stone sitting in the center for Kevin. As I bought him the ring, I thought about all the meanings it could have, but instead decided it just meant I would be happy to see him. It was then announced my plane would be delayed for another half an hour due to storms over the Atlantic. I went and got a last cup of coffee in an indoor diner in the airport. The diner was very Americana, and reminded me of the painting with James Dean, Marilyn Monroe and a few others sitting at the counter-I can't remember the name right now-but the effect was eerie. I finished the last of my coffee, and boarding for my!
flight was called. I left the payment for the coffee and the last of my French money as a tip, (which totaled about twenty bucks).
I gave the ticket to the attendant and stowed the bags in the over-head compartment. I sat down in my window seat. I didn't pay attention to the man sitting in the aisle seat next to me, and instead fell asleep leaning on the wall of the plane.
When I woke up, it was dark outside and inside. It was "night" on the plane, meaning most passengers were asleep. I picked a movie-Natural Blonde, but it wasn't that captivating. I laughed at the character played by that girl who was Jesse on Saved by the Bell and was that infamous actress from Showgirls. She was terrible, and ever so melodramatic.
I grew restless and the airplane air was getting stale. I went about to get up for the bathroom to splash some water on my face, but saw that my seatmate was sleeping. Then I saw exactly who my seatmate was-my favorite Star Inquirer reporter, Al Amsco. What were the odds, huh? I grimaced at first, but then realized, hey, this was the perfect opportunity for revenge. And oh would it be sweet.
I slipped my camera out of my backpack from under the seat. I took a complete roll of pictures, all highlighting his goofy, dream-induced grin, and the river of drool coming from the side of his mouth. His left hand was grasping a half eaten donut and his right hand was pushing his thumb into his chin. It wasn't anything immediately embarrassing, but would be when he realized he had been beaten at his own game. He had been caught sleeping on the job, and unknowingly sitting right next to the subject of his most successful story to date.
I got bored of taking pictures, stowed the camera back in its place, and grabbed some sunglasses to sleep with the rest of the flight. For the joke to work, I would have to remain incognito until the pictures would hopefully be published. The stewardess woke me up after the plane had landed and many passengers, including Al, had disembarked. I realized I was finally back in the states.
I got my carry-ons and left the plane. I picked up my luggage at claim and hailed a taxi home. Thankfully, for my moral structure, my parents were home. I ran up to the front steps and rang the doorbell.
Olivia, the Brazilian maid, answered, and immediately recognized me. "Adam! You're home!" She ushered me in as I set my bags in the front hall. My parents were sitting in the kitchen around the island on stools. They looked up to see who it was and freaked out. Those are the only words for it-they freaked out. Mom threw her arms around me and had tears in her eyes when we disengaged. Dad patted me on the back and squeezed my shoulder, the most emotion he liked to show. I gave them both their presents.
Suddenly, he turned somber. "Welcome home. Adam, I don't like that you've deferred college. You still have time to make the decision to go in the fall."
I turned to him, "But Dad, I'm just not ready to go. I'd much rather start later when I'm in the correct emotional place-but I'm not now. I guess I'm just the type of kid that needs a year in between to decompress."
"Well, then...you certainly have thought about it. I like a decision with reasoning behind it and I respect it, just as long as you don't loose sight of your goals. That's very important, never loose sight."
After this speech, Mom came over to me and hugged me again. "I'm so glad you're home. We got that message from Zach when we returned and I have to admit, even after you called from Paris, I was still worried, especially during all those news stories." I nodded.
My father pulled me aside. "Son, I thought you should know, we know you're gay-we have since Zach told his parents about you last year. We're just fine with it."
My mother piped in, "Great with it-as long as you're careful during sex and always use a condom-and we'd say that if you were straight as well-with all the diseases floating around-"
I cut her off. "Mo-om!"
"What? We just want you to be safe!"
"Okay. I'm glad you know. Especially since those news stories."
"Now tell us, are you really involved with this Kevin guy?"
"Yeah-well, we were just dating, not lovers-I've never slept with him." For some reason I just wasn't embarrassed about talking about my sex life-or lack thereof-with my parents. I was way past that-there's something about having a national scandal about him that does that to a guy.
"Do you love him?" my Mom asked.
"Well, I think..."
"Oooh!" my mother hugged me as she scrunched up her face.
"Look, mom, I really need to sleep and get some things in order, but can we have breakfast tomorrow morning?"
"That's fine. Love you honey!"
"Night all." I went out the back with my bags and unlocked my front door. Everything was neat as a pin-Olivia must have been there. I went down the foyer towards my room and saw Zach's open door. The room was terribly messy, with clothes strewn about and empty pizza boxes littering the floor-this indicated that he had been back since Olivia had visited to clean stuff up. I called Olivia and asked her when she had been here last. She said it had been about three days, which meant I had just missed him. I thanked her and said good night. Tomorrow would bring spy work as to the whereabouts of Zach, but tonight was for sleep.
Part 21
The phone woke me. I grabbed for it a few times, and finally grasped it. "Hello?" I said in a gruff voice.
"Adam?" It was Zach. So much for spy work.
"Where the hell are you?"
"None of your damn business you tabloid star."
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with me. Whaddya talking about?"
"Oh I don't know-your decadent sex life with the youngest member of the Backstreet Boys, taking off and not telling anyone where you are, and a few other things I can't think of right now."
"Oh--that."
"Get your damn act together and come home."
"You're not my mother-"
"And if I was, would you listen to me?"
He bellowed with laughter. "Nope!"
"Listen to me. Where the hell are you?"
"In the bar. Why'd you call me?"
"You called me, Zach-what bar?"
"The bar around the corner from my hotel room."
"Where's your hotel?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"Yes I certainly would. You need to come home right now or I will find you an track you down using this call and your cell as a homing device." I knew full well there was no way to do this but I hoped he was in such an altered state he wouldn't make the connection for impossibility.
"You'd do that to me?" he sounded hurt.
I was firm like a strict father. "Absolutely. Now where are you?"
"Savannah."
"Georgia?"
"Yep."
"Why are you there?"
"I dunno."
"Okay," I said-getting impatient. "I'm going to come and get you. You better be ready when I get there. You need to go back to your hotel, pack, and sign out. I will meet you in the airport-at the luggage check desk." I didn't trust him to get on the correct plane in this state. "Okay?" Silence. "Okay?"
"Yes. Okay."
"Now what are you going to do?"
"I am going to go to the hotel, sign out, pack, and meet you at the airport luggage check desk, when?"
"Um, well, its ten now-what are you doing in a bar this early? Nevermind-so how about two?"
"Okay."
"See you then. Bye."
"G'bye."
As soon as I hung up, I hit myself in the forehead with the heel of my palm. What the hell was I doing? I was never going to let Zach forget this jet-setting little adventure to rescue him from the clutches of alcohol and depression. Maybe I sounded self-righteous, but you know what? I'm not the one who's been sitting in a bar drinking for god knows how long just getting over a purely sexual relationship that ended with a good ol' brawl. Comparatively, I was in much better shape.
I showered, got dressed and for the second time in a single twenty-four hour period went to the airport. I got a ticket to a twelve-forty-five flight to Savannah, and boarded with my back-pack and the clothes on my back. The flight was short, and uneventful, and we landed in Savannah at a quarter to two.
I disembarked and called Zach on the cell.
"Hi." he answered, sounding considerably more sober.
"Hey Zach, its me. I just landed, and I'm waiting in the airport. Meet me at luggage check in ten."
"Okay. See you then."
I hung up and bought two tickets back home for five p.m., the earliest flight available. I made my way to baggage check and was impressed and surprised that Zach was standing there, flirting with the girl behind the counter. I guess it was a hard habit to break, huh?
"Hi!" I yelled.
"Adam!" He hugged me in a very masculine way, leaving one arm away from my body and the other patting me on the back. "Long time no see, buddy!"
"No kidding," I said, disengaging from the hug.
"Okay, when's the flight home?"
"Not until five."
"Great! Let's got get a cup of coffee." He started to walk away when he turned and said the girl, "Guy stuff, you know? Charmed to meet you darlin'! Bye now!" turning on the faux-southern-boy-charm. Then he turned to me and said obnoxiously, "I just can't resist girls with southern accents!"
I grimaced and said, "Apparently, you can't resist boys with southern accents either, Romeo." It was a low blow, but well deserved.
He faked innocence. "What ever could you mean?"
"Don't play dumb," I said, as we got a booth in the coffee shop. "I heard about your escapades with Nickolas Carter."
"I'll have you know, Nicky is from New York, originally, and later Florida. Although Florida is in the southern half of the U.S., Mr. Carter has just the smallest trace of southern accent."
"Thank you for the speech, but you're still avoiding the topic at hand."
"What if I don't want to talk about it," Zach said, but we did anyway. I told him about my fight, he told me about his. We talked until we realized they were calling last boarding for our flight.
We got on the plane. No sooner than we had sat down, Zach fell sound asleep. He snored lightly and looked like an adorable little boy with his eyes shut tightly. I was dangerously close to remembering why I used to have a crush on him. I thought about if we had never met the Backstreet Boys-if I had never fallen from that chair-would we be together? Would Zach had admitted to me how he felt? Probably not. And were we better off where we were now? Who knows. We landed, and I woke up Zach, hailed a cab home. When we arrived home, I noticed the Chevy parked in the driveway and looking good as new.
I ventured into the foyer, Zach in tow, and found my parents, and Cindy and Jason, Zach's parents, sitting in the dining room eating. There was a long reunion hugging process, at the end of which we both sat down to eat. Cindy announced that she, Jason, Hannah, and Sean (my parents), were all leaving tomorrow morning for Geneva for a conference on the Nuclear Nonproliferation Legislation of Eastern Europe. They would be gone for three months, and though I was a little disappointed they were leaving so soon, I was happy we'd have alone time to think about our respective messes. I asked my dad about the Chevy and he told me that it had been delivered by a young man this afternoon. It came from the garage in New York. I nodded, and both Zach and I finished. We excused ourselves, pleading travel fatigue, and went to our house to have a discussion or two.
We unlocked the door, and simultaneously flopped down on the couch. After about ten minutes, I said, "Zach, we need to talk about what you told me right before I left for France."
"Okay, I guess."
"What brought you to the conclusion?"
"I dunno. I guess-well, I was having the conversation with Nick about why he told Kevin he wrote the letter. I asked him what it felt like to be gay. I guess it was a naive question-but its something you wonder, especially when you're best friend is gay. I wondered if it was hereditary."
"What do you mean?"
"You know how I went to see my birth father in tenth grade?" Yes, I did. Zach was adopted. His parents had told him in eighth grade. Although it hadn't really hit him that hard, I guess because he had always felt loved, he wanted to know who his birth parents were. His parents told him the names and he spent a year looking for them. It turned out his mother, Andrea, had died during childbirth at 19 and his father hadn't been emotionally stable enough at 20 or financially competent enough to keep him. After a year with his birth father's name, address, and phone number, he decided to visit him.
I remembered him going off to see him-his name was Toby, I think. Zach was gone for a week, and he never wanted to talk about it when he came back. He only told me that Toby was an advertising exec in San Francisco and was doing very well. I didn't push the subject. I nodded to Zach.
"Well, I found out he was living with a guy name Gene. At first, I thought he was just a roommate, but then I noticed there were two bed rooms and only one was being used. So he told me he was gay, well he said bisexual, because he had truly loved Andrea. But he said people were people and you couldn't choose who you loved according to social standards. So I'd been thinking, what if homosexuality was hereditary? I told Nick the story and he comforted me, even though I was supposed to be confronting him. At the end, he kissed me. I've been confused since then. Well, the kissing felt good, but I didn't know why-was it just close personal contact, or what? Was it because Nick is adorable-and I noticed that and I was subconsciously interested in being involved with him?"
"Whoa. Zach. Shh. You need to calm down. We're both tired. Let's sleep, and in the morning, things will be less confusing."
"Okay."
We both went to our respective rooms-I spent all night thinking, and I'm fairly sure Zach did too.
Legal Note: Plese don't read this if you are under the age of 18 years or the particular age of permission where ever you live.The story below is in all parts fictional. All portayal of the Backstreet Boys and other persons mentioned is in no way based on fact. All other characters are completely fictional. All names, songs, events, and other liscensed material remains so. Thank you.
hey to all you readers out there. so, I have a question: what's the deal with the lack of responses for 16-18? were they that bad? or is everyone just gone squeezing one last vacation before summer officially ends? well, let me know. so, an extra giant thanks to those who did respond-yuli, TonnY, Matt and bob. and super-sized thanks to DLS (author-Brian&Me) who helped me straighten out these parts. reader responses keep me going, so, if you get a chance, write me at bsbwriter@altavista.net with questions, comments, critiques, compliments, whatever else-please. these parts are sort of "straighten out your life" tpye sequences, so they're more discussion than action. let me know what you think!
Enjoy, EG
Part 19
I picked up the ringing cell phone. From the tightness in my chest, I knew who it would be. "Hello." I said, warily.
"Oh Adam, its really good to hear your voice."
I was overcome with emotion and then remembered the way Kevin had unceremoniously thrown me out almost a month and a half ago. "Hi Kevin," I said plainly.
"I miss you so much."
I broke down. I knew I still loved him and denying him sensitivity would just make him hurt worse. Neither of us could be held accountable for the way we had reacted. "I miss you too."
"How've you been?"
"Recovering, you?"
"Me too. When I got back, things were a mess-"
"I know, I heard."
"How?"
"Brian called me, asked me to come see you."
"Why didn't you?"
"It just would have created problems. You know that. And your managers would've hated that."
"No kidding. I'm sort of trapped in the band-I don't really mind playing the part, but it does prevent me from being true to myself-and true to you."
"I know. So what are we going to do?"
"I don't know. We're starting the Millennium tour in the states soon. Its going to be crazy until at least Christmas. We're only in each town for two days at a time. Our third date is in D.C., though...maybe you could come home to see us, spend some time with me."
"Maybe. When is it?"
"September nineteenth."
"Kev, its only August 13th."
"I know, but, our schedule's insane. We're in Florida right now, but as soon as we're done with the video, we're gone. There's no way to see you until the DC date."
"Kevin-we need to talk about what happened at the Inn. We can't just leave it."
"I know, I know."
"Now I understand why you didn't want me there at first, what with the press invasions that must have gone on after I left. But why didn't you call until now?"
"Well why didn't you call?"
"I didn't have your number."
"You know you could've gotten it-from B-rok, or Luc and Nicola..."
"Well, I just didn't feel comfortable after the way you treated me. I didn't know if that was just a rash decision or something you really meant. I felt, well, the word used comes to mind. I didn't know where we were. It was important to me for you to make the first step. Be honest-would you actually have wanted me to call?"
"Absolutely! Well...no, I guess not-fair enough." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry I didn't call. We were in the middle of falling apart. By the way, have you heard from Zach?"
"No, isn't he with you?"
"Not anymore."
"Isn't he still with Nick?"
"Well, no. They had a fight-the managers found out and threatened to arrest Zach if he didn't leave."
"Oh no."
"I thought you would have heard from him by now."
"This is not good-Kevin, is Nick around?"
"Let me go check-I think so."
"Okay." I waited. I could feel my heart beat quicken and echo in my chest-I felt like a human metronome. Zach could be anywhere-he had the money, had the knowledge. And I was pretty sure he wasn't home.
"Hello?" said a raspy voice.
"Is this Nick?"
"Yeah-this is Adam, right?"
"Buddy, are you okay? You don't sound too good."
"Just a summer cold."
"Nick?"
"Yeah?"
"Could you tell me about you and Zach?"
"Uh, I guess."
"Thanks."
"Well, after you left, we hung out a lot. He was flirting with me blatantly-it was sort of obnoxious. We had a conversation about you and Kevin and how he felt about it. And Adam-turns out he's had feelings for you for a while."
"What?"
"Yeah."
"Since when?"
"Last year."
"How come he never told me?"
"Well, he said he was too unsure."
"I don't believe this."
"Yeah-so do you want me to go on?"
"Yeah," I said absently.
"We figured we were in the same boat. So we experimented a little and it turned into this uncontrollable sexual relationship. Problem was, we didn't like each other much on a personal level to begin with, so whenever one of us began to talk, the other one kissed him to shut him up. We holed up in the hotel in Boston, no eating or anything, nothing but fucking. Pretty soon, we both forgot our feelings for anyone else-we just focused on this dehumanized pleasure. One night, Zach went out to get some coffee at the convenience store, and he ended up sleeping with the girl behind the counter. I guess I cared more about him than I thought, because when he told me, I decked him."
"You what?"
"Punched him in the face. He punched back. Management noticed the black eye before the last press conference-in time enough for the makeup artist to cover it up." I thought about it, and realized I hadn't noticed-they must have done a good job. "They threatened him with jail if he didn't leave. So he did. And I haven't heard from him since. I really didn't mean to get emotionally attached, especially when I heard what happened to you and Kevin. Its a hard situation. You'll have to pardon me if I seem heartless. Right now I just have to forget it and move on with my career." I listened in silence, and was in so much shock I didn't realize it when Nick finished talking. "Hello? Adam? Still there?"
"Huh?" I answered.
"So that's the whole story."
"Oh. Wow-excuse me, I'm in total shock. Could you put Kevin back on?" I asked in total monotone.
"Sure thing."
Kevin got on the line. "Hey," he said.
"Hi. I can't believe what happened." I was in shock, but I knew later I'd be worried out of my mind. It didn't make any sense. Why had Zach encouraged me to go with Kevin if he had liked me? "This is a mess."
"No kidding."
"Kevin, I'm coming back to the states. When can I see you again?"
"Well, we're in
"Can I meet you there?"
"I'd be mad if you didn't."
"Okay, I promise."
"We just have to keep it on the down low."
"I understand. Thanks for calling."
"Adam?"
"Yeah?"
"I still love you."
"I still love you too." I blushed and said, "Bye."
"Bye." Kevin hung up.
I sat on the edge of the bed for quite sometime.
Part 20
I decided I had had enough of France and the French. I got a ticket, and readied myself to go home. It was about time. I packed my things in the suitcases, settled up with the hotel owner, and cleaned up for the flight that would leave in a few hours.
I took a long shower-or bath with a shower head I should say. The bathroom was not equipped with a shower stall per se, but a large mounted bath with a shower head on one end. I sat down, stretched my legs out, and ran the head of the shower across my body. This process of bathing felt strangely like sitting in a rain shower. I had gotten used to it. The scalding warmth of the water melted away my worries for the moment and focused my head on seeing my parents, friends, and Kevin again. I washed my hair and body, stepped out and dried off.
I slipped on the clothing I had left out-a gray t-shirt and green army cargo pants. I palmed a little gel in my hair to keep it out of my face. I had long forgotten to blow-dry it-after all, there was no one in Paris to impress. I glanced in the mirror on the wardrobe door and stepped away. I called for the bell-boy to gather my things, which he did, and called a taxi to take me to the airport.
I got to the airport and still had an hour. I dawdled in the shops for awhile, spent the last of my French currency. In the bags which now filled my hands was a terribly kitschy fake goldfish bowl with fake exotic fish which moved around when you flipped the switch for Zach, a ruby ring for my mother, Belgian chocolates for my father, and a very thin silver ring with a round turquoise stone sitting in the center for Kevin. As I bought him the ring, I thought about all the meanings it could have, but instead decided it just meant I would be happy to see him. It was then announced my plane would be delayed for another half an hour due to storms over the Atlantic. I went and got a last cup of coffee in an indoor diner in the airport. The diner was very Americana, and reminded me of the painting with James Dean, Marilyn Monroe and a few others sitting at the counter-I can't remember the name right now-but the effect was eerie. I finished the last of my coffee, and boarding for my!
flight was called. I left the payment for the coffee and the last of my French money as a tip, (which totaled about twenty bucks).
I gave the ticket to the attendant and stowed the bags in the over-head compartment. I sat down in my window seat. I didn't pay attention to the man sitting in the aisle seat next to me, and instead fell asleep leaning on the wall of the plane.
When I woke up, it was dark outside and inside. It was "night" on the plane, meaning most passengers were asleep. I picked a movie-Natural Blonde, but it wasn't that captivating. I laughed at the character played by that girl who was Jesse on Saved by the Bell and was that infamous actress from Showgirls. She was terrible, and ever so melodramatic.
I grew restless and the airplane air was getting stale. I went about to get up for the bathroom to splash some water on my face, but saw that my seatmate was sleeping. Then I saw exactly who my seatmate was-my favorite Star Inquirer reporter, Al Amsco. What were the odds, huh? I grimaced at first, but then realized, hey, this was the perfect opportunity for revenge. And oh would it be sweet.
I slipped my camera out of my backpack from under the seat. I took a complete roll of pictures, all highlighting his goofy, dream-induced grin, and the river of drool coming from the side of his mouth. His left hand was grasping a half eaten donut and his right hand was pushing his thumb into his chin. It wasn't anything immediately embarrassing, but would be when he realized he had been beaten at his own game. He had been caught sleeping on the job, and unknowingly sitting right next to the subject of his most successful story to date.
I got bored of taking pictures, stowed the camera back in its place, and grabbed some sunglasses to sleep with the rest of the flight. For the joke to work, I would have to remain incognito until the pictures would hopefully be published. The stewardess woke me up after the plane had landed and many passengers, including Al, had disembarked. I realized I was finally back in the states.
I got my carry-ons and left the plane. I picked up my luggage at claim and hailed a taxi home. Thankfully, for my moral structure, my parents were home. I ran up to the front steps and rang the doorbell.
Olivia, the Brazilian maid, answered, and immediately recognized me. "Adam! You're home!" She ushered me in as I set my bags in the front hall. My parents were sitting in the kitchen around the island on stools. They looked up to see who it was and freaked out. Those are the only words for it-they freaked out. Mom threw her arms around me and had tears in her eyes when we disengaged. Dad patted me on the back and squeezed my shoulder, the most emotion he liked to show. I gave them both their presents.
Suddenly, he turned somber. "Welcome home. Adam, I don't like that you've deferred college. You still have time to make the decision to go in the fall."
I turned to him, "But Dad, I'm just not ready to go. I'd much rather start later when I'm in the correct emotional place-but I'm not now. I guess I'm just the type of kid that needs a year in between to decompress."
"Well, then...you certainly have thought about it. I like a decision with reasoning behind it and I respect it, just as long as you don't loose sight of your goals. That's very important, never loose sight."
After this speech, Mom came over to me and hugged me again. "I'm so glad you're home. We got that message from Zach when we returned and I have to admit, even after you called from Paris, I was still worried, especially during all those news stories." I nodded.
My father pulled me aside. "Son, I thought you should know, we know you're gay-we have since Zach told his parents about you last year. We're just fine with it."
My mother piped in, "Great with it-as long as you're careful during sex and always use a condom-and we'd say that if you were straight as well-with all the diseases floating around-"
I cut her off. "Mo-om!"
"What? We just want you to be safe!"
"Okay. I'm glad you know. Especially since those news stories."
"Now tell us, are you really involved with this Kevin guy?"
"Yeah-well, we were just dating, not lovers-I've never slept with him." For some reason I just wasn't embarrassed about talking about my sex life-or lack thereof-with my parents. I was way past that-there's something about having a national scandal about him that does that to a guy.
"Do you love him?" my Mom asked.
"Well, I think..."
"Oooh!" my mother hugged me as she scrunched up her face.
"Look, mom, I really need to sleep and get some things in order, but can we have breakfast tomorrow morning?"
"That's fine. Love you honey!"
"Night all." I went out the back with my bags and unlocked my front door. Everything was neat as a pin-Olivia must have been there. I went down the foyer towards my room and saw Zach's open door. The room was terribly messy, with clothes strewn about and empty pizza boxes littering the floor-this indicated that he had been back since Olivia had visited to clean stuff up. I called Olivia and asked her when she had been here last. She said it had been about three days, which meant I had just missed him. I thanked her and said good night. Tomorrow would bring spy work as to the whereabouts of Zach, but tonight was for sleep.
Part 21
The phone woke me. I grabbed for it a few times, and finally grasped it. "Hello?" I said in a gruff voice.
"Adam?" It was Zach. So much for spy work.
"Where the hell are you?"
"None of your damn business you tabloid star."
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
"Nothing's wrong with me. Whaddya talking about?"
"Oh I don't know-your decadent sex life with the youngest member of the Backstreet Boys, taking off and not telling anyone where you are, and a few other things I can't think of right now."
"Oh--that."
"Get your damn act together and come home."
"You're not my mother-"
"And if I was, would you listen to me?"
He bellowed with laughter. "Nope!"
"Listen to me. Where the hell are you?"
"In the bar. Why'd you call me?"
"You called me, Zach-what bar?"
"The bar around the corner from my hotel room."
"Where's your hotel?"
"Wouldn't you like to know."
"Yes I certainly would. You need to come home right now or I will find you an track you down using this call and your cell as a homing device." I knew full well there was no way to do this but I hoped he was in such an altered state he wouldn't make the connection for impossibility.
"You'd do that to me?" he sounded hurt.
I was firm like a strict father. "Absolutely. Now where are you?"
"Savannah."
"Georgia?"
"Yep."
"Why are you there?"
"I dunno."
"Okay," I said-getting impatient. "I'm going to come and get you. You better be ready when I get there. You need to go back to your hotel, pack, and sign out. I will meet you in the airport-at the luggage check desk." I didn't trust him to get on the correct plane in this state. "Okay?" Silence. "Okay?"
"Yes. Okay."
"Now what are you going to do?"
"I am going to go to the hotel, sign out, pack, and meet you at the airport luggage check desk, when?"
"Um, well, its ten now-what are you doing in a bar this early? Nevermind-so how about two?"
"Okay."
"See you then. Bye."
"G'bye."
As soon as I hung up, I hit myself in the forehead with the heel of my palm. What the hell was I doing? I was never going to let Zach forget this jet-setting little adventure to rescue him from the clutches of alcohol and depression. Maybe I sounded self-righteous, but you know what? I'm not the one who's been sitting in a bar drinking for god knows how long just getting over a purely sexual relationship that ended with a good ol' brawl. Comparatively, I was in much better shape.
I showered, got dressed and for the second time in a single twenty-four hour period went to the airport. I got a ticket to a twelve-forty-five flight to Savannah, and boarded with my back-pack and the clothes on my back. The flight was short, and uneventful, and we landed in Savannah at a quarter to two.
I disembarked and called Zach on the cell.
"Hi." he answered, sounding considerably more sober.
"Hey Zach, its me. I just landed, and I'm waiting in the airport. Meet me at luggage check in ten."
"Okay. See you then."
I hung up and bought two tickets back home for five p.m., the earliest flight available. I made my way to baggage check and was impressed and surprised that Zach was standing there, flirting with the girl behind the counter. I guess it was a hard habit to break, huh?
"Hi!" I yelled.
"Adam!" He hugged me in a very masculine way, leaving one arm away from my body and the other patting me on the back. "Long time no see, buddy!"
"No kidding," I said, disengaging from the hug.
"Okay, when's the flight home?"
"Not until five."
"Great! Let's got get a cup of coffee." He started to walk away when he turned and said the girl, "Guy stuff, you know? Charmed to meet you darlin'! Bye now!" turning on the faux-southern-boy-charm. Then he turned to me and said obnoxiously, "I just can't resist girls with southern accents!"
I grimaced and said, "Apparently, you can't resist boys with southern accents either, Romeo." It was a low blow, but well deserved.
He faked innocence. "What ever could you mean?"
"Don't play dumb," I said, as we got a booth in the coffee shop. "I heard about your escapades with Nickolas Carter."
"I'll have you know, Nicky is from New York, originally, and later Florida. Although Florida is in the southern half of the U.S., Mr. Carter has just the smallest trace of southern accent."
"Thank you for the speech, but you're still avoiding the topic at hand."
"What if I don't want to talk about it," Zach said, but we did anyway. I told him about my fight, he told me about his. We talked until we realized they were calling last boarding for our flight.
We got on the plane. No sooner than we had sat down, Zach fell sound asleep. He snored lightly and looked like an adorable little boy with his eyes shut tightly. I was dangerously close to remembering why I used to have a crush on him. I thought about if we had never met the Backstreet Boys-if I had never fallen from that chair-would we be together? Would Zach had admitted to me how he felt? Probably not. And were we better off where we were now? Who knows. We landed, and I woke up Zach, hailed a cab home. When we arrived home, I noticed the Chevy parked in the driveway and looking good as new.
I ventured into the foyer, Zach in tow, and found my parents, and Cindy and Jason, Zach's parents, sitting in the dining room eating. There was a long reunion hugging process, at the end of which we both sat down to eat. Cindy announced that she, Jason, Hannah, and Sean (my parents), were all leaving tomorrow morning for Geneva for a conference on the Nuclear Nonproliferation Legislation of Eastern Europe. They would be gone for three months, and though I was a little disappointed they were leaving so soon, I was happy we'd have alone time to think about our respective messes. I asked my dad about the Chevy and he told me that it had been delivered by a young man this afternoon. It came from the garage in New York. I nodded, and both Zach and I finished. We excused ourselves, pleading travel fatigue, and went to our house to have a discussion or two.
We unlocked the door, and simultaneously flopped down on the couch. After about ten minutes, I said, "Zach, we need to talk about what you told me right before I left for France."
"Okay, I guess."
"What brought you to the conclusion?"
"I dunno. I guess-well, I was having the conversation with Nick about why he told Kevin he wrote the letter. I asked him what it felt like to be gay. I guess it was a naive question-but its something you wonder, especially when you're best friend is gay. I wondered if it was hereditary."
"What do you mean?"
"You know how I went to see my birth father in tenth grade?" Yes, I did. Zach was adopted. His parents had told him in eighth grade. Although it hadn't really hit him that hard, I guess because he had always felt loved, he wanted to know who his birth parents were. His parents told him the names and he spent a year looking for them. It turned out his mother, Andrea, had died during childbirth at 19 and his father hadn't been emotionally stable enough at 20 or financially competent enough to keep him. After a year with his birth father's name, address, and phone number, he decided to visit him.
I remembered him going off to see him-his name was Toby, I think. Zach was gone for a week, and he never wanted to talk about it when he came back. He only told me that Toby was an advertising exec in San Francisco and was doing very well. I didn't push the subject. I nodded to Zach.
"Well, I found out he was living with a guy name Gene. At first, I thought he was just a roommate, but then I noticed there were two bed rooms and only one was being used. So he told me he was gay, well he said bisexual, because he had truly loved Andrea. But he said people were people and you couldn't choose who you loved according to social standards. So I'd been thinking, what if homosexuality was hereditary? I told Nick the story and he comforted me, even though I was supposed to be confronting him. At the end, he kissed me. I've been confused since then. Well, the kissing felt good, but I didn't know why-was it just close personal contact, or what? Was it because Nick is adorable-and I noticed that and I was subconsciously interested in being involved with him?"
"Whoa. Zach. Shh. You need to calm down. We're both tired. Let's sleep, and in the morning, things will be less confusing."
"Okay."
We both went to our respective rooms-I spent all night thinking, and I'm fairly sure Zach did too.