Date: Tue, 17 Nov 2009 21:47:51 -0500
From: Keiren Connors <keiren.connors@gmail.com>
Subject: Brae Chapter 8

Tate and I attracted more than a couple curious stares when we entered the
Gnat. Colin and Carl immediately swooped in protectively and dragged me over
to stretch with them. It was a little embarrassing to feel as though I was
being babysat, but I appreciated the sentiment and understood that
socializing with two popular upperclassmen would go a long way towards being
accepted by my teammates. I was relieved when I saw Kenner walk up to Tate
and introduce himself. I looked over at them a few times as Jimmy warmed us
up and was glad to see that they seemed to be getting on famously. Kenner
certainly had a way of engaging those around him; he was quite the dynamic
personality. I also couldn't help but steal a couple quick glances back at
Skip, who was stretching out in the back, far corner of the mats. He looked
hung over and his eyes were blood shot and sunken behind dark craters.

Timmy finally slackened up on us a bit with the workout and thus my time in
the pool was relaxing and almost therapeutic. I felt as though I was in a
much better place than I had been the day before. After practice I decided
to grab a few minutes in the sauna to loosen up my muscles before the long
car ride. I stretched out on my back on one of the benches, enjoying the
slight tingling sensation of the heat against my cool skin. The door to the
sauna creaked open and I looked up to see who was entering, worried it might
be Beau, or worse, Drake. I recognized the relatively compact, muscular
build (for a swimmer) and shoulder-length, sun-streaked, brown surfer hair
as belonging to another one of the swimmers in Timmy's `A Group,' a
backstroker I was pretty sure. He headed straight towards me and I was
suddenly gripped by a wave of panic. `Fuck, what if this kid is some psycho
gay basher?' I sat upright and braced myself for a confrontation. If worse
came to worst I could always kick him onto the sauna heater. That would be a
surefire way to end the argument. Instead he extended a strong, calloused
hand, and his hazel eyes locked in on mine.

"Hey. I'm Cash. I wanted to introduce myself since we haven't really met
yet."

"I'm Braeden," I answered. His handshake was warm and friendly. "Nice to
meet you." Cash smiled and nodded and continued to stand there awkwardly for
a moment, his eyes roving around the deserted sauna and his thumbs nervously
twiddling in circles. "Umm, can I do something for you?" I asked,
expectantly.

He jerked, as though startled. "Oh, uh, no. I, uh, I actually just wanted to
tell you that uh..."

"Yeah?"

"That, I think you were really brave yesterday to stand up for your friend,
the way that you did," he rambled, his words tumbling out almost on top of
each other. It seemed as though he wanted to get them out before his nerves
or his common sense got the better of him.

"Oh, thanks," I smiled a little sheepishly and shrugged. "That ended up
being a bit more of a scene than I bargained for."

"Well, I was really impressed and I guess, kinda like, inspired... I, uh, I'm
gay too, and I just figured I could probably use a friend like you..." Cash's
voice dropped off and he looked down at the ground, hesitantly, strands of
his longish hair tumbling across his forehead and obstructing his attractive
face.

"Oh," I replied, not quite sure what to answer. "Does anyone else know?" I
asked.

He looked back up at me, and ran his hand through his wet hair, brushing it
off his face, his muscular arm rippling in the soft light shining in from
the sauna's glass door.

"Yeah," he replied. "Some of my friends know. Only two, well, now three,
guys on the team know. I red-shirted last year cause I had elbow surgery and
I wasn't even in the pool until February, so I don't know a lot of the guys
that well."

"So, this is basically your first year," I summed up.

"Basically," he nodded.

"Well it was good to meet you Cash," I said, getting up and climbing down
the benches. "I hafta go, cause I'm going away for the weekend and we're
leaving soon." I put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a reassuring smile.
"If you ever need to talk, or anything at all, you can always come to me," I
said, looking into his handsome face. His full lips curved into a shy grin.
"And we should definitely hang out. I'll give you my number next time I
catch you with clothes on." I winked at him and then headed out of the
sauna, into the showers.

Tate was waiting by my locker when I got there so I changed quickly and we
walked back to our room together.

"So did you get his number?" Tate asked as we crossed the Commons on our way
back to Res Square. His grey blue eyes, dazzling in the morning sun, looked
at me inquisitively and I couldn't quite tell if he was teasing me.

"Whose?" I asked.

"Cash's," he responded. "You know the hot guy that followed you into the
sauna with puppy dog eyes," Tate continued, his voice tinged with biting
cynicism that I wouldn't have expected from him.

"It wasn't like that," I said defensively.

"Uh huh, *suuuuuure*." Tate jabbed me with his elbow playfully.

"It wasn't. I think he just needs a friend right now. And who am I to say no
to that?"

"Who indeed?" Tate said with mock gravity.



* * *

 We grabbed bite in the dining hall then went back to our room to get ready
to go. I'd packed the night before but I still wanted to put a cooler
together for the road. We still had a bit of time to kill before Emmie was
picking us up, so I put a quick birthday call through to my mom. She loved
my gifts and was overjoyed that I had remembered to call on the day of my
"big trip." I wrapped the conversation up as quick as possible, avoiding the
whole Skip/Tate issue and promised to call as soon as I was back for a long
chat.

Lottie called promptly at 9am to let us know that they were outside and Tate
and I went down to meet them. The street was already littered with cars
bogged down with stuff and disoriented-looking parents and students, even
though move-in time didn't start until noon. I could not have been more glad
to be getting out before the masses descended. We finally spotted the Range
Rover halfway down the block and we hurried over. It seemed Lottie had drawn
short straw and was sitting in the back, so I joined her while Tate and
Nicola took the middle and Emmie and Colin were up front. Everyone was in a
jovial mood as we drove out of Carrington and it felt as though we were
embarking on a grand adventure.



* * *

 The drive down took about two hours, not including the two bathroom breaks
we had to make for the girls.

"I told you guys getting coffee was a mistake," Colin said shaking his head
as we pulled into the second rest stop, a rundown old shack that looked like
it had been deserted for about 20 years, and housed psycho serial killers
and rodents the side of small dogs.

"I feel as though we're walking into a horror movie," I whispered, catching
a glimpse of the filthy and toothless attendant eyeing us suspiciously from
what I assumed must be the convenience store.

The girls ran around back to use the bathrooms while Colin topped off our
tank, figuring it was rude to use the bathroom and not patronize the
establishment at least a little bit. Tate and I waited in the car, figuring
all we could accomplish by getting out would be to catch something
communicable. Nicola appeared less than a minute after disappearing round
back, her arms crossed and her black hair flowing behind her as she made a
beeline straight for the car.

"I can hold it," she said climbing in beside Tate. "Some things are just not
worth it. That reminded me of the bathrooms at Auschwitz... possibly worse,"
Nicola said with a shudder. Tate threw his head back with laughter.

"Nicola!" I chastised.

She looked back at me, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief. "Sorry baby, I
don't do PC."

Emmie and Lottie returned a few minutes later, looking equally repulsed.

"That was an atrocity against modern plumbing," Lottie said, sliding in next
to me.

"One of the worst moments of my life. I will never get that odor out of my
sinuses," Emmie agreed.

"Good riddance to bad bumblefuck bathrooms," Nicola laughed throatily,
slamming the car door shut. And we were off again, with conversation
material to last us the last stretch of the trip, as the girls recounted
every last reviling detail of their brush with death, or at least a UTI, in
that bathroom.



* * *

 We turned into the driveway about a half hour later. The cottage sat about
a quarter mile back on the property right on the lake, completely enshrouded
from the road by lush forestation.

"Geez! This is windy," Emmie said, following the violent curves of the road.


"At least it's paved," I replied. "It was gravel when we first bought it. My
mom used to brace herself for it like a plane crash whenever we drove it," I
laughed.

"I think our mothers would get on great," Nicola said.

"Yeah, mine too," Emmie giggled.

Emmie rounded the last bend and the house came into view. It elicited a few
gasps from the other members of the car. The "cottage" was a four-story
traditional Swiss chalet, with a stone foundation and wood exterior, an
angular gabled roof, and balconies jutting out from each floor.

      "Wow," Colin muttered, as Emmie pulled the car up alongside the house
and put it into park. "This is the `cottage'?"

      "Yeah. Told you it was a bit pretentious," I blushed.

      I led the way inside. The foyer was two stories with an intricately
carved wooden chandelier as the central focal point of the room. Two curved
wooden staircases on either side of the entrance way led to the upper foyer,
which overlooked the main hall and opened into the master suite, my bedroom
and one of the guest rooms. I hung a left into the den and plopped my bag
down on the floor. A massive stone fireplace dominated the room, which was
rustically and comfortably furnished with rugged looking wood and leather
furniture.

      "What do you guys want to do first? Have lunch or something?" I asked.


      "No, I think we want the tour," Lottie responded with a chuckle.

      "Yup," Emmie echoed.

      Tate and Colin nodded their assent and Nicola just shrugged.

      "Alright, I guess we'll do a quick walk through then," I said.

      The ground floor was more or less square and consisted of nine rooms
in a three by three grid, with the dining room as the center point. The
other rooms, going clockwise from the foyer, were the den, the kitchen, the
media room, the sunroom, the hot tub and sauna room, the library, and the
living room, which took us back into the foyer.

      Upstairs, to the left of the upper foyer was the master suite, to the
right was my bedroom and a small guest room that had served as a playroom
when I was younger. At the rear were the greenhouse and the staircase to the
third floor. The third floor landing opened into three more bedrooms, a
study, and the laundry/storage room. Finally, the fourth floor contained the
last guest room, the gym, and what my mom liked to call "the reading
balcony" at the rear of the house. The balcony overlooked the lake and there
were several Adirondack chairs and loungers, all comfortably fitted with
matching cushions, making it the ideal place to spend a day lost in a good
book.

      The biggest guestroom was on the third floor and I figured it would be
perfect for Colin and Emmie. It had a luxurious marble bathroom with Jacuzzi
tub and a spectacular wrap-around balcony with lake views. I put Lottie and
Nicola in the other two third floor guest rooms and Tate in the second floor
room next to mine.



* * *

 After I had gotten everybody situated, we went back down to the kitchen for
a quick lunch. The pantry was well stocked and we all made sandwiches on
fresh bread, probably picked up at the local farmer's market.

"This house is frickin' unbelievable!" Emmie said as we walked through the
dining room into the sunroom to eat lunch.

"Yeah," Nicola chimed in. "I mean, I guess, in theory, I did know it was
going to big since you said it had six bedrooms. Still, I was expecting to
be roughing it a little more. Not that I am complaining..." Her voice trailed
off as she stretched out on one of the chaise lounges. Emmie grabbed the
lounge next to her and the rest of us sat around the small dining table.

"Can we come here every weekend?" Emmie said, playfully leaning over in my
direction and fluttering her eyelashes.

"I think you're barking up the wrong tree," Tate snickered.

"Well, I can be one persuasive bitch!" Emmie shot back.

"Yeah, `bitch' being the operative word," Nicola sniffed. "Speaking of, how
is that lovely sister of yours Tate? Still with Jean-Claude?"

"Jean-Marie, I think. He's out of the picture now regardless. Dad made her
get new roommates and it has not been an easy transition."

"I'll bet!" Emmie scoffed. "Her closet policies alone are enough to drive
anyone insane!"

"What are her closet policies?" Colin asked, looking up from his sandwich.

"Elise claims ownership of every closet in the apartment, and unfettered
access those closets whenever she wants, regardless of whose bedroom it is
in," Emmie replied.

"It led to some incredibly awkward `morning-after' situations, if you know
what I mean," Nicola laughed.

"Wait, so where were you guys supposed to keep your clothes?" I asked.

"Well we each had a dresser, but that wasn't enough. So we resorted to
stealing clothing racks from the atelier..." Emmie admitted a little
hesitantly.

"Yeah we got the idea over maybe our fourth bottle of wine at dinner with
Elise one night, and made her break us into the studio to steal them. And
then we rode them home through the streets like skateboards," Nicola
cackled.

"And mine kept tipping over!" Emmie whined, whimpering with laughter.

"My dad was quite amused to visit the apartment one day and find all of
these hotel dollies that had been missing from his studio," Tate smiled.
"You know Elise will be in New York for fashion week in a couple of weeks
and then she is going to come up to visit. I think she is planning on
staying with you guys, although I'd be shocked if she planned on giving you
guys more than a day's notice."

"Yeah, this is the first I've heard of that," Nicola said.

"Yay! It will be so great to see her again!" Emmie declared. "I know it's
only been like a month, but, we got along with her so well! So much better
than with that one over there," Emmie joked, nodding her head in Lottie's
direction. Lottie rolled her eyes and held her arms up in defeat.

"So are you going to be strutting yourself on the runways this season Tate?"
Lottie asked.

"You're a model?" Colin asked.

"No!" Tate laughed. "Not at all!"

"That is a damn lie!" Emmie yelped.

"It is not!" Tate insisted through his laughter.

"I have seen you model! Cruise collection this summer!"

"Yeah but that was for my dad!"

"So?!" Emmie's voice was rising steadily as her tone threatened to escalate
this point into a heated argument.

"So I am not a model!"

"Working for your dad still counts!"

I suddenly couldn't even remember why she was so adamant about getting his
admission. Was she on a campaign against false modesty? Because this felt as
though it was turning into a witch hunt.

"I have never been paid for my services! My dad may force me and Elise to
take a spin down the catwalk ever now and again, but there is no
compensation. It is pure nepotism!"

"If you inserted `pole' for `catwalk' in that last sentence, think of how
fucked up *that* would be," Nicola joked.

Emmie ignored Nicola's antics and continued her tirade. "Maybe so! But you
know you could do it if you wanted to! I know for a fact you get other
invites! Elise told me!"

"Yeah... But I don't want to."

"Okay, I'm starting to miss the entire point of this conversation," Lottie
said, jumping in to play peacemaker. "You know it's nearly one o'clock and
we haven't opened any bubbly yet.  Shall we do some mimosas before heading
onto the boat?"

"That sounds like a great idea. I think Emmie and I should make them," Colin
said, jumping up and collecting the empty plates on the table. "Shall we?"
he asked, throwing a look in her direction. She reluctantly got up off the
chaise and followed him.

"Yikes!" Nicola squeaked when they were out of earshot.

The afternoon recovered well from there. We had a round of mimosas and then
packed up some coolers and headed out on the boat. My parents had picked it
up the summer before and at 31 feet in length it was considerably longer
than our previous one, which had been a relatively small ski boat. Getting
used to the bowrider was an adjustment and it took an embarrassingly fumbly
few minutes for me to get used to the boat's size. While it was nice that it
seated at least a dozen people comfortably, it seemed rather large for a
lake that was just over a mile wide and only about six miles long. I manned
the helm all afternoon while the rest of the group knocked back drinks and
took turns tubing and using the water skis. It turned out that Tate and
Colin were both quite the expert water skiers and they put the girls to
shame with their acrobatics. The lake was really quiet and we only saw two
other boats out on the water the whole afternoon.



* * *

 We headed back to the house just after 6pm and Tate fired up the grill.
There were eight hearty-looking steaks in the fridge and an assortment of
vegetables that the girls washed and cut up before handing them off to Tate
to grill. The rest of us cracked open some beers and got into the hot tub
while Tate prepared our dinner. It was nice to relax with what were becoming
very good friends and to escape all the drama that Carrington had already
inflicted on me in my first two weeks. And when we got back to campus things
were going to be totally different. I had gotten used to Carrington's empty
courtyards and corridors, and it somehow augmented its majesty. Now the
halls would be overflowing with drunken college kids intoxicated by the
sweet taste of freedom.

"You know it's great that you found us so soon," Emmie said, taking a sip of
champagne (Emmie was the lone holdout when we switched to beer). "You will
never have to worry about awkward beginningers."

"So true," Lottie concurred.

 "Beginningers?" I asked skeptically.

"Beginningers are the friends you make your first week or two of college,
when you're so desperate not to be alone and friendless that you'll make
friends with pretty much anyone," Emmie explained.

"They are usually people on your floor or that you met at some preschool
mixer or, like, family friends or something," Lottie continued.

"So you form these highly farcical relationships with people that in reality
you will never want to speak to again once the Carrington social hierarchy
has put everyone in their proper place," Nicola finished.

"Nicola!" Emmie gasped, splashing in her direction.

"Whatever. It's true. Sorry, I'm not sorry."

"Still, there is such a thing as tact," Lottie said. "But, basically Nicola
is right," Lottie said, turning towards me. "There are all these people you
rushed to make friends with in the beginning and then you wind up finding
out that you don't really have that much in common or you just don't like
each other that much after all."

"Hence the dilemma of how to acknowledge them when you see them in public,
because you aren't really friends.  But you were for about two seconds and
there probably wasn't any big falling out so there isn't any need to be
rude. It's quite a dilemma," Emmie sighed. "And that sums up awkward
beginningers. Anything you'd like to add Colin?"

Colin had been listening to this conversation with a look of amusement
written across his face. "No, I think you ladies pretty much covered it.
Although, I think people on sports teams might have a bit of a different
experience. I mean I mostly socialized with the other swimmers because we'd
already been here two weeks, we spent so much time together and we were on
the same schedule... and I still mostly hang out with the swimmers."

"Oh, that's a good point. I hadn't thought of that," Lottie said.

"Well regardless, you already have us!" Emmie said with finality.

"Uhh... Okay..." I replied with an awkward smile.

Tate announced that dinner was ready a moment later so we all climbed out of
the hot tub and scampered over to the patio. Colin lit a fire in the fire
pit and we pulled up chairs around it so we could enjoy its warmth as we ate
our dinner and watched the sunset.

"This is heaven," Emmie sighed, curling up into Colin's lap and resting her
head on his shoulder. He stroked her bare arm softly and kissed her forehead
from time to time.

"Yeah," Tate agreed. "So where is the nearest ski mountain?"

"There are two places just ten minutes up the road. We belong to both,
although we usually only go to one of them. It's quieter and the runs are
usually better."

"We should do ski weekends!" Emmie said.

"Yeah, sure," I replied. "We probably won't get a chance until after the
swim season, but the skiing is usually pretty good into late March."

"You know, Nicola has never skied before," Emmie said with a lascivious
smirk.

"Nor will I be anytime soon."

"You've never skied before? How is that possible?" Colin asked.

"I'm from Texas. My family prefers to do warm vacations. I don't know why
this is so shocking. We went to Vail once and I spent the whole time at the
lodge."

"You are ridiculous," Lottie scoffed

We spent close to two hours swapping stories as evening descended on us.
Tate, Lottie and Colin tried to out-do each other with stories of older
sibling brutality. While Tate and Colin were used as human dolls, Lottie was
often used as a human punching bag and proudly showed off scars of her
brother's brutality.

"Even the nannies were afraid of him. My parents were sort of oblivious
until one year he power-rangered my face to the pavement the day before our
Christmas picture was supposed to be taken. I literally had skid marks
across my forehead and all down the right side of my face. I think my
parents finally medicated him after that."

"Thank god *that* didn't scar," Emmie said.

"Yeah, I know. My mom took me to a plastic surgeon and we got a special
cream. It's weird because now Mikey couldn't be more protective of me and
we're pretty close. We've talked about it before and he basically said he
had a lot of resentment towards me because he already felt starved for our
parents' attention even before I came along. I guess my presence only
exacerbated that situation."

"How many years apart are you guys?" Tate asked.

"Four years but five grades. He just made the cut off by like a week and I
just missed it by one."

"So he was pretty used to running the show before you came along," Tate
smiled.

"Basically."

"I actually probably would have committed murder to have my parents less
involved in my life," Nicola said.

"You say that now..." Lottie replied.

"I actually probably would have committed murder to have had a big brother
growing up," Emmie cut in.

"Yeah. Me too!" I said.

"My parents were always worried that I wouldn't socialize correctly without
a sibling, so I got put into weird playgroups and summer camps and stuff
when I was little," Emmie groaned.

"Me too!" I laughed. "My parents put me in a summer camp in Ireland when I
was maybe 11 or 12. The Irish kids *hated* me. It was an adventure camp so
we did different sport and boating things every day and they tortured me.
They'd flip over my little sail boat and my parasail. On the day we did
kayaking, they surrounded my boat chanting `Kill the Yankee!' and they
bailed water into it and sunk it. It was a nightmare!" I shook my head,
remembering the two weeks of pure torture that, at the time, I'd felt lucky
to survive.

"Kids are so mean," Lottie said.

"Where the fuck were the adults?" Tate fumed.

"I don't really remember there being adults. I mean I'm sure there were
some..."

"Besides, the whole point of summer camp is to torture the other kids,"
Nicola said. "I know at my camp we inflicted body image issues that will
probably last a lifetime."

"And to steal other girls' clothes," Emmie chimed in. "My shit got stolen
every year. And you'd have to steal back or you had nothing to wear!" She
laughed.

We traded camp stories until the nearly full moon was high in the cloudless
sky, its reflection dancing across the water before us. When our fire
finally burned out we decided to head inside to the warmth of the den. At
Emmie's insistence we started playing campfire games of the endless
call-and-return variety that became increasingly difficult the more we
drank. The night slowly faded into a blur and before I knew it, Tate was
helping me upstairs to bed and tucking me in.

"Mmm, thanks," I said, looking up at him dreamily in the darkness. A small
sliver of moonlight peaked through the curtains and lit up one side of his
face. He smiled a tentative, almost pained, smile and rubbed my cheek with
the backs of his fingers.

"Thanks for inviting me. It really means a lot to me. I can't even tell you
how much." And with that he was gone and I was lost in sleep.



* * *



I didn't manage to drag myself out of bed until after 10 the next morning
and I stumbled sleepily downstairs. Lottie and Emmie had pancakes on the
griddle and were drinking mimosas in the kitchen with Tate. Tate spotted me
first and he flashed me a warm smile, his eyes glistening under his
bedraggled mop of black curls. I could help but notice the way that his thin
grey pajamas pants accentuated his tiny hips and the ample curves of his
buttocks and the bulge of his quads.

"Good morning!" Emmie's voice rang out. "Sleep well?"

"Yeah," I grumbled. "Anything is an improvement on those dorm beds."

"What do you want in your pancakes?" Lottie asked, pouring some batter onto
the griddle.  Her hair hung loose and she had a fresh, clean glow about her.
"Bananas, blueberries or chocolate chips?"

"I'll actually take mine plain," I said sauntering over and leaning against
the counter next to Tate. His cheeks had a warm rosy glow and the rest of
his skin shone like white marble in the morning sunlight.

"Here's your mimosa," Emmie beamed at me, her morning voice a little
throaty. Her hair was tied on top of her head in a messy bun and she was
sporting an oversized `Carrington Swimming' t-shirt over a pair of boxers
that she'd rolled up.

"Thanks," I said, eyeing the bubbling orange liquid a little warily. Tate
caught my eye and winked as he casually held up the full glass he'd
obviously barely touched. "Are Colin and Nicola still sleeping?" I asked.

"Nicola is. Colin will be down in a few minutes. He's just taking a shower,"
Emmie responded.

"How did everyone sleep last night?" I asked.

"Great," Lottie said.

"Like a rock," Tate agreed.

"I guess I'll go wake Nicola up," Emmie said. "Otherwise we'll be waiting
around for her all day."

"There's no rush," I shrugged.

"You don't know Nicola," Emmie said rolling her eyes. "If we wake her now,
we still probably won't see her for another hour. So, if we want to get out
on the boat at all today someone has to suck it up and face her wrath."

Emmie returned a few minutes later with Colin and the five of us chatted
over Lottie's (delicious) pancakes.

 "I can't believe classes start Wednesday!" Emmie groaned, her head in her
hands.

"I can't believe the swim season starts in a month," Colin said.

"Me neither," I said.

"Do you feel ready?" Lottie asked.

"Yeah, I guess. The thought of traveling all the time is pretty exhausting
though."

"It is exhausting," Colin nodded. "But you're going to do great. Both of you
guys will. They're the new little all-stars."

Tate blushed. And looked down as though he was studying the granite
countertop.

"Hey, what's the girlfriend policy on away meets? Can we come?" Emmie asked.

"We?" Lottie asked.

"Yeah. You and me."

"And how did I get roped into tagging along?"

"Well you and Carl--"

"--Me and Carl, nothing!" Lottie snapped. "If you want to trek around New
England with the men's swim team, that is your business."

"To be honest none of the guys girlfriends usually go," Colin said. "We are
usually four to a room, sometimes two, and it would be pretty boring
anyways." Emmie looked a little crestfallen. "But I'd love it if you would
come to Ivy League Championship or NCAAs."

"Okay! You know we also really have to get the ball rolling on our spring
break plans. I'm think Majorca or the Greek Islands."

"There is plenty of time to figure that out later," Lottie said, rolling her
eyes.

"Or Prague. I wonder what the weather is like though."

Nicola surfaced about a half hour later. She skipped the pancakes and went
straight for the mimosas.

"I'll pour that for you," Tate said, scooting over and grabbing Nicola a
clean flute.

"It's fine. I'll just take the pitcher," Nicola said lifting it off the
counter and taking a long swig. "Alright," she said, lowering the jug and
wiping her mouth with her sleeve. "The boat... shall we?"

"Uhhh... sure..." I said, catching Tate's eye and cocking an eyebrow.



* * *

 We all went up to change into swimsuits while Lottie packed us a cooler. We
spent the rest of the morning skiing and tubing and then anchored in the
middle of the lake for lunch. I pulled our water trampoline out of one of
the storage holds and hooked it up to the pump. We picnicked on the
trampoline and then lounged around to catch the early afternoon sun. Every
now and then Emmie would get up and start jumping until Nicola would yell at
her to stop. Tate sat on the edge of the trampoline, hanging his legs over
the edge into the water. I bounced over and lay down next to him.

"Hey," he smiled.

"Hi," I replied, drinking in the sight of his naked torso. "Having fun?"

"Yeah, it's beautiful here," Tate said.

"Yeah. It was nice to get away," I said. "You know, after everything."

"Yeah, what do you think it's going to be like when we get back?"

"What do you mean?" I asked.

He shrugged. "I dunno. I just wonder if we're going to be, like, the gay
kids when we get back."

"Well, we are gay..." I replied, matter-of-factly.

"I know," he said with a smile. "But is everyone going to know? Are they
going to treat us differently?"

"I mean I don't think we need to go broadcasting it everywhere. I don't know
why people would just assume that we are."

"You don't think Drake has notified everyone living within a 100-yard radius
of us of how things are hangin' in 503?" Tate asked ruefully.

"Oh," I said, taking a moment to think. I hadn't really thought of that yet;
I had been so enjoying our relaxing getaway that the problems of the real
world had temporarily slipped away. "Well, I mean, the guys on the team have
been pretty accepting so far. Generally..."

"Yeah," Tate nodded. "That's true, and I mean, you're always going to have
your assholes that you just need to deal with."

"Right. And, really, I don't know why it would bother anyone else that much.
We're living with each other. We don't have to share a bathroom with anyone.
We'll be gone a lot of weekends. We may not even interact with these people
that much, beginningers and all that crap," I said with a laugh. Tate
chuckled. "And if we're the token fags, then we're the token fags. We'll
deal with it. And at least we'll have each other, and we have great friends
here who don't give a fuck what we are. And we're great fucking people. So,
yeah, I guess I'm really not worried. I mean what do these people really
mean to us anyways?"

"We'll be seeing them for four years," Tate pointed out.

"Eh, we're going to run into a lot of people in our time here. Some will
matter and some won't. I think we just have to focus on the people who
matter."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. I'm just a little tired being the subject of
public inspection and fascination... and ridicule," he tacked on as an
afterthought.

"Don't worry," I grinned. "I'll protect you." I laughed, reaching up to jab
him in his tautly-muscled side. I felt an electric jolt when our skin made
contact that sent goose bumps flying down my limbs and all of my body's
energy suddenly seemed to shoot into my groin. I pulled back reflexively.
Tate gave me an odd look. `Crap. He's onto me. He isn't into me,' I thought.
`Be cool.' I gave him a playful smile and then rolled off the trampoline
into the lake, allowing myself to sink to its murky depths.  I watched the
sunlight slowly disappear before pushing off decaying leaves on the mucky
bottom and heading back towards the surface.

Colin's face, peering over the edge of the trampoline and painted with
concern, greeted me as I surfaced. "Geez, you were down there a long time.
How deep is it here?"

"Not that deep. Maybe 17 feet. Shall we take the boat for another spin? We
haven't tried the wake board out at all."

"Yeah, definitely," Colin grinned.

Nicola and Emmie opted to hang out on the trampoline (with a bottle of wine)
 while the rest of us tooled around the lake for another couple hours and
Colin, Tate and Lottie tried to teach themselves wake boarding tricks.
Lottie had the most natural ability, which she chalked up to figure skating
as a child, and she was able to throw some cool jumps and spins. We headed
in to shore around 4pm and I docked the boat and stored away the trampoline
while everybody else gathered their stuff to go home. Lottie threw all the
dishes in the dishwasher and did a quick sweep of the kitchen while Colin
took out our garbage and Tate went around and checked that all the doors and
windows were closed. We had a quick snack of peanut butter sandwiches before
we got on the road back to Carrington. Colin drove since he hadn't had
anything to drink since that morning. Meanwhile, Nicola and Emmie insisted
on finishing off our alcohol supply on the way home. Lottie and I got peer
pressured into having a few more drinks on the ride back, although Tate
resisted.

By the time we got back to the dorms at around 7pm, I was pretty buzzed and
the weekend was beginning to catch up with me. I navigated up the ten
flights of stairs in a daze, disoriented by the dozens of kids and their
parents that I stumbled past as we trekked up to our room. The hallway was
overflowing with luggage, boxes, and over-excited teenagers.

"Oh fuck," I muttered, to the shock of a nearby parent, as Tate navigated me
through the piles of tripping hazards back to our room.

"Let me get you some water," Tate said as I immediately flopped face-first
onto my bed. He retrieved a bottle from the fridge and brought it over to
me. "Here," he said, unscrewing the cap and handing it to me.

I took a sip of the icy cold liquid and sighed with content. "Tate, you're
the best," I smiled.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. Finish that. I'm going to go take a shower," he replied.

I finished the water bottle and proceeded to pass out.



* * *



Tate woke me several hours later and suggested that I eat something. We
decided to go for a late dinner at the Italian place in town. Although it
was past 10pm the place was packed with anxious-looking students and
exhausted-looking parents. The flustered-looking hostess told us there would
be a 15-minute wait and we went to grab a seat in the entryway when I heard
someone call out my name. I turned and saw Carl in a booth at the back of
the restaurant, waving.

"Hey, it's Carl," I said, grabbing Tate's arm and nodding in Carl's
direction. "We should go say hi."

We weaved through the crowded restaurant over to Carl. He was sitting with
Donovan and Justin, two senior guys on the team.

"Hey," Carl said.

"Hey," Tate and I replied. Justin and Donovan nodded their greetings.

"Do you want to join us? We only just ordered," Carl said.

I looked at Tate.

"Yeah, sure," Tate said.

"Thanks," I replied, sliding into the booth next to Carl.

"So how was your trip?" Carl asked.

"Oh, it was great," I said. "Very relaxing." Tate nodded his agreement.

"Where did you guys go?" Justin asked.

"Down state to my ski house."

"Oh... what did you guys do there?" Donovan asked.

"Well it's on a lake and we have a boat and stuff, so there's a lot to do in
the summers."

"Like what?" Donovan asked.

"Uhh... like water skiing, tubing, wakeboarding... we have a water trampoline."

"Oh, those are really fun!" Carl said. "They had one at the resort we stayed
at for spring break last year, remember guys?"

Justin laughed. "Yeah. Donovan puked on it!"

"Not my fault! That fat little British kid kept throwin' off my bounce! I
get motion sick!"

"Okay, so then what were you doing getting on a trampoline?" Justin asked.

Donovan shrugged. "It looked like fun."

"So, how's Lottie?" Carl asked.

"You mean since you saw her two days ago?" I teased.

"Uhh... yeah..." Carl said sheepishly.

"Dude you are so whipped!" Donovan hooted.

"He isn't even getting any!" Justin chortled.

"Hey, enough!" Carl barked.

The waitress came over and took Tate's and my orders.

Our food arrived shortly thereafter and the topic of conversation shifted to
Timmy's recent reign of tyranny and everyone's mutual dislike of Drake.

"You should have seen him last night," Carl groaned. "He got kicked out of
Pints."

"I think he's already been banned from like half the bars in Carrington,"
Donovan said. "It's sort of an accomplishment."

"What'd he do now?" Tate asked, knowingly.

"He punched someone, I think," Carl replied.

"He punched a girl!" Justin exclaimed. "Who the fuck does that?!"

"Are you serious?!" Tate gasped.

"Yeah, my girlfriend knows the girl," he replied.

"Jesus," Tate said.

"Apparently she wasn't having his come-ons so he punched her..."

"Fuck, he is such a douche bag," Carl said, shaking his head. "Who the fuck
does that?!"

"He's a real prick," I agreed. "Seriously, he is going to get in real
trouble sooner or later. Eventually someone will get seriously hurt or press
charges or something."

"You would have thought that the mace episode with Nicola would have taught
him a lesson," Tate said.

"Timmy will come down on him eventually," Carl rationalized. "In fact, I'm
pretty shocked he hasn't already. Drake is sucking ass at practice and he
was our hottest recruit. I would know -- I was supposed to entertain him
when he came on his visit last year, but it didn't end up timing out. I
can't believe that Timmy would let him waste himself like this. He's on
full-ride."

"Maybe he thinks that by ignoring Drake he'll get the desired reaction.
Drake thrives off attention and I know he isn't happy that Timmy isn't
giving him the time of day," Tate suggested.

"Like reverse psychology!" Donovan said.

"Not really," Justin smirked. "I think it's like... negative reinforcement."

"No, it's negative punishment," Carl said. "Aren't you both psyche *majors*?"
he exclaimed in disbelief.

Justin nodded, looking a little embarrassed.

"I'm not anymore. I was last year," Donovan said. "But I dropped it."

"What are you majoring in now?" Carl asked.

"I'm undecided."

"What?!" Carl practically shrieked. "You are a senior!! How are you going to
graduate?!"

Donovan shrugged his shoulders and flicked his blond bangs off of his
forehead as if he didn't have a care in the world.

"No. Seriously. Donovan. How are you going to graduate? I don't understand
how you can not have a major declared your senior year."

"I dunno... general studies?"

"I don't think that's a thing," Justin said.

"No. It definitely isn't," Carl said. "Do your parents know? How does this
happen? We have academic advisors."

Donovan shrugged. "I dunno. They'll figure it out. I'm not concerned."

"Clearly," Carl scoffed.

We finished shortly afterwards. Carl invited us to grab a drink with them
but Tate and I were feeling tired and begged off.

"You sure? This is one of the biggest going-out nights of the year. All your
little freshman pals will be on the prowl," Carl laughed.

"Yeah? You've officially talk me into staying in," I said.

"Me too," Tate laughed.

"Suit yourselves. See you boys in the morning," Carl replied.

"Shall we take bets on the state of Drake in the morning?" Justin joked.

"Or the date of his first arrest," Donovan suggested.

Tate and I shook our heads in exasperation and then said our goodnights.



* * *



"That was nice. Felt so normal," Tate said as we brushed out teeth side by
side in the bathroom.

"What do you mean?" I asked.

"Well the gay thing. It wasn't an issue at all. And it's not like they
didn't know."

"Why should it be an issue?"

"I don't know. It shouldn't. Obviously, it shouldn't. But that doesn't mean
that it isn't going to be a lot of the time."

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Yeah, it was nice. And they are nice guys.
Donovan is a little bit helpless, but nice."

"A *little* bit helpless? Geez, my parents would *kill* me if I was that
lacking in direction!" said Tate.

"I mean mine would too. Or mine would at least step in. I think a lot of
people don't get the kind of support or attention from their parents that we
are used to," I said. "I mean when I think about what Lottie was saying
earlier today, it's pretty sad." I moved so that Tate could spit into the
sink. He stood back up and looked me in the eyes.

"You really are a good person, Braeden." His eyes were locked on mine,
almost ferocious in their icy blueness; they reminded me of those of a
Siberian husky. "You're incredibly empathetic and compassionate," he said
reaching up and giving my upper arm an affectionate squeeze and then letting
it linger there for a moment. His flesh felt searing hot against mine and I
suddenly felt completely breathless.

"Uh, thanks," I murmured, as though in a trance.

We lingered in that moment for what felt like an eternity. I didn't want to
breathe. I was so taken by Tate's aura, his very essence. He exuded an
other-worldly presence. Looking at him head on made me feel as though I was
staring at the sun. Like I was at risk of being blinded by the light. How
had I been so oblivious to the fact that this person had existed under my
nose for two weeks?!

Tate inhaled sharply and looked away. "So we have a busy day tomorrow," he
said, looking at the mirror and giving himself a quick grin to make sure his
teeth, his perfect teeth, looked alright.

"Umm, yeah. I know," I stuttered, trying to regain my composure. I felt like
I'd just had some kind of religious experience. My pulse was still racing a
mile a minute and my heart felt as though it had dropped out of my chest.
"I, uhh... I have some kind of an alcohol awareness seminar at three tomorrow.
I don't know if we're supposed to miss practice to go to that."

"Yeah, Jimmy said we have to go to that. I asked on Friday," Tate said.

"Oh, okay," I responded. "I guess I feel a little better about missing my
nap then," I sighed. "We have so many receptions tomorrow!"

Tate chuckled and walked back into the bedroom. He was already asleep when I
followed him a couple of minutes later.



* * *



Practice went all the better the next morning for knowing that we were going
to get out of having to come back in the afternoon. It was nice to feel like
I didn't have to save myself for later and I got through the sets quite
handily.

"Damn Davenport! You are flying today," Eric remarked during a quick break.

I shrugged. "It was a relaxing weekend," I replied.

"I'll bet!" Lip cut in with a mischievous grin. He nudged me with his elbow.
"So, did you get any?" he asked.

"What?!" I choked. Eric shot Lip a hard, disapproving stare that Lip seemed
content to completely disregard.

Lip nodded at Tate, two lanes down, chatting on the wall with Justin. "Did
you get any? Everyone knows you guys went away together."

I was stunned. So this was going to be a constant issue.

"Dude, seriously, shut up," Eric said.

"Nah, I want to know!" Lip protested.

"It's not like that. We're just friends," I insisted.

"Yeah, *bullshit*!" Lip pronounced.

"Lip. Enough." Henry's words seemed to reverberate through the gnat with an
ominous power.

I was shocked. Henry had never involved himself in any of our conversations,
never mind our squabbles. Lip's mouth immediately clamped shut and that was
the end of it for the moment although I had the uneasy feeling that this was
not going to be the last of such episodes. I didn't understand it. Just
because Tate and I were both gay, why did everyone automatically assume that
we were together, or at least `doing it'? I wasn't surprised, though.  This
sort of thing was pretty much what I had predicted after Friday's episode.
In fact, I felt disappointed in myself. Disappointed that for a moment I had
allowed myself to believe that maybe it didn't have to be like this, that
Tate and I could be normal and, a small nagging voice in the back of my head
told me, disappointment that there wasn't some truth to Lip's accusations.



* * *

 The rest of practice passed uneventfully and afterwards Tate and I hurried
back to the dorms to grab a quick bite and to change for the university
president's welcome breakfast. We felt a little weird stuffing out faces
before going to a breakfast, but we weren't sure how many speeches we would
have to sit through before we were allowed access to the food and Tate
pointed out that portion sizes might be lacking.

The president's address was held at the university's performing arts center,
which houses the largest auditorium on campus. We spotted Cam and Kenner as
we entered and the four of us grabbed seats together and made small talk
while watching the 1,200 or so members of Carrington's freshman class filter
in. The president's address was predictable, uninspired, and full of the
usual rah-rah stuff that fails to inspire when you've been awake since 5am.
I nodded off a few times, much to Tate's amusement, and I was by no means
the only one. It looked as though it had been a rough night for a good
percentage of Carrington's "future legacies," as the president liked to
(somewhat nonsensically) refer to us.

The food at the reception afterwards was light, mostly crackers and cookies,
though most of our fellow students looked as though they had little interest
in eating. The coffee, however, was flying off the buffet tables. Very
little mingling seemed to be going on.  Instead hundreds of tiny little
groups had already formed and people seemed to be clinging to each other for
dear life. I thought of Emmie's `beginningers' and suppressed a chuckle. The
four of us chatted for awhile, killing time until we had to split up for our
next receptions. I spotted Drake, Finch, Brian and Skip across the lobby,
hitting the coffeemakers hard. I felt a little tug of sadness seeing Skip as
a part of their fold. Already, he looked tired and a little worse for the
wear and I genuinely hoped that everything was going alright for him since
our... what should I even call it? `Split' was the only word that came to
mind, but it didn't seem quite right and I had a feeling Skip would have
some objections to it.

Following the president's welcome we had department assemblies, which we had
to split up for.  The four of us reunited at a lecture on campus safety,  then
went to a freshman class picnic with forced mingling, and finally a seminar
on alcohol awareness. The four of us grabbed dinner in the dining hall after
our last seminar and then Tate and I retreated to our room, utterly
exhausted. Despite Emmie's pleas, we resisted going out and decided to do a
couple of hours reading for our Brit Lit course and turn in early.

"I feel like we're an old married couple," I joked as we got ready for bed,
cringing as soon as the words left my lips. Tate, who was digging around in
his dresser for a fresh suit for the morning, visibly stiffened, the tendons
in his muscular neck tensing.  He didn't look back at me or acknowledge the
joke and I shuffled off into the bathroom.



* * *



The next day was much of the same. We had practice in the morning, followed
by an alumni association reception, a study skills seminar, a sexual health
and rape seminar, and finally an activities fair (with pizza dinner) at the
student union.

The student union was considered the sole architectural blight on the
Carrington campus. Built in the 1960s after the old student union was
damaged in a fire, the student union was a massive and angular travesty of
modern architecture. In concrete. There were few windows and most of the
common areas in the building were housed in the basement and the
sub-basement with the rest of the building housing the offices of the
various student organizations on campus.

The activities fair was held in the basement, a dark, sprawling space that
resembled a 70s rec room.  It housed the largest cafeteria on campus
(featuring Carrington's only chain restaurants), a large eating area, a
study/lounge area, and a bookstore. Dark and tacky wood paneling lined the
walls, there was virtually no natural light to speak of (though one wall did
feature English basement type windows), and whoever had been in charge of
decoration clearly had a penchant for neon signs. On a campus that was
otherwise an architectural gem, the student center was certainly a blight,
and many students cited it as an example of the university administration's
disregard for the students.

We did a cursory walk around to check out the booths. Greg was standing at
the booth for the Gnat, recruiting lifeguards and I went over and said
hello. I was glad I had decided not to take any shifts that week because I
was absolutely exhausted.

"Oh, look there's a gay-straight alliance," Kenner said indicating towards a
booth a couple of yards away.

I froze for a moment, seized by feelings of terror. I couldn't say why. I
mean, I was officially "out" and had decided I wasn't going to lie about it
anymore. Maybe the idea hadn't had long enough to sink in but something
about the idea of walking up to the gay-straight alliance booth in front of
the whole freshman class (who in my spasm of paranoia all suddenly seemed
fixated on me) was too much to handle.

Tate seemed to sense my discomfort and put a strong and reassuring hand on
my back.

Kenner marched right up to the table. "I belonged to one of these in high
school," he announced cheerfully, picking up a leaflet and signing his name
to a roster.

"A little too soon?" Tate asked as we watched Kenner chat amiably with the
kids staffing the table.

"I guess so," I replied, giving a pathetic shrug.

Tate smiled. "You'll get there eventually. And if you don't, that's okay
too."

He gave my shoulder a squeeze and then walked over to Kenner to sign up for
the club. I watched in amusement as the mouths of the two guys manning the
table dropped in awe as Tate approached. He gave them both a shy smile and
then signed up on their sheet.



* * *

 That evening Lottie and Emmie coaxed us into coming out for $1 hamburgers
and I resolved to take it easy, remembering my episode the previous week.
Colin, Carl, Justin and Donovan all came along, as did Heather, one of the
girls' sorority sisters. Emmie whined about how annoying the freshman had
been during their previous two nights out (apparently the irony of the fact
that she was one of those "insufferable" freshman just the year before was
lost on her), while Nicola whined about the shortage of attractive
(straight) guys in the freshman class and Heather whined about classes
starting the following day. Even Justin and Donovan were willing to
contribute, with passionate complaints about how hard Timmy had been riding
us at practice.

The place was significantly more crowded than it had been the week before;
it was packed and Emmie, Lottie and Nicola were clearly in their element.
People, mostly guys, kept coming over to say hello to them and they seemed
to revel in the attention. It was obvious that they were in their element
and it was interesting to see them at work. Heather and Emmie in particular
became much more animated, their gestures exaggerated, as though they were
unconsciously putting on some performance for the bar's other patrons. Carl
also attracted quite a bit of attention and a number of people stopped by to
offer their congratulations. By the time we got our food I was sure I had
shaken hands with at least fifty people and Tate and I had both gotten a
number of appraising looks from some of the girls, as Emmie was quick to
point out.

Our burgers were delicious and I limited myself to only one beer, as did
Tate and Carl. Justin and Donovan, despite their earlier griping, seemed
less concerned about the next morning's practice and had thrown back at
least four beers apiece before finishing their meals. A local jazz band took
the stage at 10pm, so we decided to stay for their set.  This elicited a
number of yawns from Donovan, who was clearly in a rush to get to the next
bar, and eye-rolls from Nicola, when they started playing jazz covers of
popular pop-songs. The band finished up at around 11pm. Tate and I said our
goodbyes as Emmie and Nicola sparred over whether or not it was too early to
go to The Pint, and whether they should go somewhere else first. I winked at
Lottie as we left and she shook her head in exasperation. I laughed.

"By the time they make their minds the bars will be shutting down for the
night," Tate said as soon as we were out of earshot.

"I wouldn't be surprised," I replied.

"They remind me so much of my sister," Tate said with a faraway smile. "They
can be annoying as fuck, tonight especially, but it's impossible not to love
them."

"*Both* of them? Is Elise bipolar?!" I exclaimed.

Tate giggled. "Yeah, she has facets of both. She's very like Nicola when
she's with people she's in public.  She's a tough cookie, especially with
people she doesn't know. But then at home, with me and the people she loves,
she's a lot like Emmie. She's got a very childlike enthusiasm about her at
times. Nobody can wrap you around their finger quite like Elise can. How she
talked her way out of college and into getting my dad to pay for her flat is
beyond me. He's paying more on that a year than he is on my tuition!"

"Were you guys close growing up?" I asked.

"Yeah, thick as thieves, as my mom used to say. Elise was always the
ringleader and I was more or less her plaything, but I'm a pretty passive
person, so it worked.  And to be fair, she always had my back and was really
sweet with me. She has a very nurturing side and she can be fiercely
protective. I had a bit of a lazy eye when I was really little and she used
to unleash hell on anyone that gave me shit about it."

"She sounds great. I always wanted a sibling growing up, more than pretty
much anything."

"You would have been a great big brother. I think you have a bit of Elise's
fierce streak in you. At the very least you have a strong sense of right and
wrong. You are a moral compass," Tate pronounced with mock grandeur,
offsetting the sweetness of his words.

"Thanks, Tate," I said, genuinely touched. "That is really nice of you." I
wanted to touch him or hug him, to squeeze him and never let go. I suddenly
felt as though I was burning up with want and desire, I squeezed my arms
around myself tightly to suppress the sudden urges racing through my mind.

"Are you cold?" Tate asked, looking at me with concern.

"Uhh, yeah, a little..." I bluffed.

Before I could register what was happening, Tate had wrapped a strong arm
around my shoulder and was gently rubbing my upper arms with his hands,
trying to warm them up. A hot flush exploded on my chest and began creeping
up my neck and into my chin. His touch was electric and burned like fire. I
was afraid to speak, even to breathe, to do anything that would make him let
go. His touch felt so right, as though it had been destined or ordained by
some higher power. As we continued walking the warm sensation spread to my
groin and the front of my shorts was soon bulging with pent up desire. The
brush of fabric against my member with each step was almost too much to
bear; never had my body felt so sensitized.  It was as though it has been
awakened by Tate's touch. My erect nipples rubbed against the knit of my
polo, arousing me further and the hairs on my arms stood on end with each
stroke from his fingers. Eventually his hand came to a rest, but his arm was
still draped around my shoulder providing a glorious sensation of weight and
warmth and intimacy. My erection throbbed harder with each step and soon I
felt the moist warm sensation of pre-cum leaking into my briefs as the head
of my aching cock rubbed along the elastic waist band. Each step was one
closer to orgasm and I had to fight the urge to close my eyes, loll my head
back and moan with sheer delight and desire. Neurons were firing every which
direction and every sensation from the straining fabric around my groin to
the evening breeze in my hair and the electric touch of Tate's arm wrapped
around me was heightened. As we crossed Carrington Cross back onto campus,
Tate's hand slipped off my shoulder down my back and slowly traced its
defined musculature before reaching the slight arch of my lower back.  There
it rested for a moment, tantalizingly close to my ass. That was all I needed
to put me over the edge and I erupted shot after silent shot of hot jizz
into my briefs. Try as I might to suppress it, a slight gasp escaped my lips
and Tate immediately dropped his hand by his side and like that, the moment
was broken. I suddenly felt empty, foolish and all alone.

I tried to ignore the feeling of cooling cum dripping down my leg as we
climbed the stairs up to our room and then laid first claim on the bathroom
to clean myself up.

`This is probably unhealthy,' I thought to myself, pulling my third tissue
out of the box on top of the toilet and wiping up the trail leaking down my
leg. `You need to get a grip Braeden,' I thought looking at my flushed
complexion in the mirror over the sink. `Pull it together, you do not need
another Skip situation on your hands.'

When I was finally cleaned up I went back into the room, changed and crawled
straight into bed. It was hard to believe that the next morning marked the
official beginning of my college career. In some ways it felt as though I'd
been at Carrington forever, although it had only been two and a half weeks.
It was hard to remember a time when Skip, Lottie, Emmie, and now, Tate,
hadn't existed. It was hard not to feel a little anxious at the prospect of
dumping the stresses of schoolwork onto my swim schedule and the growing
dilemma that was my attraction to Tate. All I could do was hope that time,
patience and diligence would carry me through.



* * *

 Thanks for reading everyone. Your continued support means a lot to me. As
always, I appreciate (mature) feedback.



Many of you have asked for pictures of the main characters and I'll try to
come up with something soon for you guys.



Many, many thanks to Frank and Ken for their tireless proofing. Frank has
just proofed all of my earlier chapters for re-posting on crvboy.org which
will now also host Brae, and will have a few days exclusive on new chapters.
Thanks Frank!



Copyright 2009 keiren.connors@gmail.com