Date: Wed, 20 Feb 2002 17:32:39 GMT
From: starsong <starsong@subdimension.com>
Subject: Carpe Diem: Part 1
-----------------
starsong sez:
Hi there! My first story on the Nifty College section,
"Alex and Dan," was about two college students discovering
love in one passionate afternoon. Because it was so well
received, I decided to try my hand at making it a series, of
which this is the first part! Fair warning, though: you
won't find the same sort of rampant sex in this series. At
least, not in the first few episodes...;) If you want that
sort of thing, check out my other story, "Dorm Fun." Enjoy!
Carpe Diem Part 1: Fall Winds
-----------------
Friday (the 13th)
Happy Friday, Alex! Your gift, after enduring five straight
days of mind-bending boredom, iiiisssssssss.... to watch fat
guys drink beer! Yeah, as usual my asshole roommate had
decided to invite twenty of his best beer-swilling frat boy
friends over. Forget the Abercrombie & Fitch vision of
buff, shirtless guys wandering around with Tevas on their
feet and sex in their shorts; these boys were *nasty*. As
soon as the first sweaty, hairy failed athlete squeezed his
size-48 ass through the door (wearing a "Chick Magnet!"
t-shirt, no less), I knew I had to leave. Despite it being
the end of the week, I grabbed my backpack and left for the
library.
I suppose I should introduce myself, since I'm the one
telling the story and you'll be seeing a lot of me. Well,
not exactly *seeing*... but you know what I mean. My name's
Alex, and at the time I was a sophomore here at "The
College". No, I don't want to tell you the real name. I'm
just shy of six feet tall, with unmanageable dark hair and
clear brown eyes. And I'm gay. Totally gay. Hopelessly,
strokingly, rolling-naked-on-the-beach gay. Okay, so maybe
not quite that much. But I've always liked guys.
Trouble is, in college I was a total closet case. I
wouldn't even admit it to myself. I knew I liked guys, but
in my warped mind that didn't equate to "being gay." Nasty
circumstances in my hometown had taught me to feel and
believe what I wish, but never to share it with anyone else.
After a while, I just got used to living two lives. I
showed the world a carefully calibrated shell, giving each
person what they expected but never more or less. I don't
make friends easily, but when I do, I get very close to
them; I only feel safe with those I know I can trust. But
anyway, enough background. I was telling a story here...
You have to understand that most colleges, driven by lack of
funding and the unstoppable drive for modernization, are
cursed with so-called "modern libraries", whose stone walls
hold nothing but glossy brochures and evil-looking
librarians. For all the comfort and meaning they hold, they
might as well be graveyards for books. Fortunately for me,
those 1970s-vintage cracked-tile-and-peeling-veneer
monstrosities have as much in common with our stately
building as Richard Simmons has with the Pope. It's the one
place on campus I can always go to feel safe.
If you go to the library to study, you do it in one of the
huge common areas in the front of the new building. If you
want to be alone, you're out of luck, unless you know
exactly where to go. Like most buildings funded over
decades by nickel-and-dime donations, the library is full of
odd corners and steps, where different additions met and
corridors twisted together. And, if you go deep enough into
the library, down into the basement with the cockroaches or
high in the tower with the pigeons, you can find places
where no one goes. It was in one of these places, high
above the noises of the street and throngs of babbling
students, next to a shelf full of the "Proceedings of the
International Entomology Society" (1942-1947), that I went
to put down my bag.
Someone was already there.
In my spot.
In MY spot.
In MY SPOT, next to the window, third stack from the left,
at the desk with "Girl Power! '97" scratched into the
surface.
A boy. Asleep.
But not just any boy. This boy was a vision in dream and
thought, a god with wavy earth-colored hair and a
body-hugging shirt, long-lashed eyes resting quietly on
copper-colored forearms in the beginnings of sleep. The
fading afternoon sun gave him glowing highlights, the light
sensually feeling its way across his hair and onto the
smooth skin of his neck. I felt like an explorer, having
come upon some rare and fragile treasure of the ancient
world, afraid to move lest it fall to dust between my
fingers. A faint spring breeze wafted through the open
window, brushing a strand of golden-brown hair across his
face. The boy stirred.
Stretching slightly, he turned a bleary pair of
heart-stoppingly blue eyes in my direction.
"What you starin' at, FAGGOT?"
I was on fire. I opened my mouth to say something,
anything, but my throat clogged up. A familiar hot sweat
broke out on my back, and I twitched involuntarily at his
assault. I felt shamed and small, even as my survival
instincts took over and filled me with defensive anger.
"Screw you, you're in MY SEAT, bastard." I didn't even look
back at him as I tried to beat my tears in a race for the
elevator. I didn't care what buttons I pushed as I mashed
at the panel randomly, trying desperately to close the doors
and blot out the sound of a wavy-haired Adonis laughing
softly at the queer he had Caught Staring. Through summer
camp, high school and my few months of college, I had taught
myself not to lose control of my emotions. There had always
been too much to lose. This time I couldn't hold it back.
I collapsed on the floor of the elevator and sobbed loudly
as it hummed its way down to the basement.
I pulled myself together long enough to get out, and looked
around blankly at a very dim place. My eyes found a cracked
sign next to the elevator. 2G. Great. I had hit the
button for the lowest floor of the library. There weren't
even steam tunnels beneath this, just dirt, roaches and
dust. Well, there had to be a chair around here somewhere
where I could compose myself. Then I could find somewhere
else to be alone.
I made my way under pipes and flickering fluorescent bulbs
until I found a rickety table and chair, thrown together
between a wall and a steel shelf full of cracked and peeling
books. I sat down and looked at the tile. I hated this. I
hated the dark, the dust, and the silence. I put my head on
my crossed arms and looked blankly across the room. "It's
not that bad," I mumbled to the books. "This can't go on
forever. I'll just stay here for a minute and try to forget
about it."
Slowly, I let myself relax in the cold air of the basement.
I heard the hiss of steam as someone turned on a radiator.
I heard the creak of footsteps several floors above. I
heard the buzzing of an errant fly, stupidly bumping at the
giant glowing E of the EXIT sign over the stairs. I closed
my eyes and cried softly, listening to everything around me
and wishing I was a part of it. Then I heard something
else.
*creak*
*w-w-wobble*
**CRASH!**
"Oh, FUCK!"
I jumped to my feet and started for the stairs, wiping my
face on my sleeve. There was someone else here. I didn't
want anyone I knew to catch me crying my eyes out on a
Friday afternoon. Bet *that* would send my friends running
for the hills. My hand hit the cold brass of the doorknob,
but something made me stop. It sounded like a guy. What if
he was hurt? (What if he was cute?) I sniffed again and
cursed under my breath as I turned. I buried the second
thought and decided to just make sure he was okay.
I made my way to the source of the sound, way in the back of
the stacks. What I saw made me stop and stare again, now
with amazement instead of lust. One of the rickety steel
stacks was tilted at an disturbing angle, several of the
shelves empty. A pile of books, at least a foot high, lay
on the floor with a slightly bemused boy sticking out of the
middle. We looked at each other.
"Hi."
"Hi."
This was turning into quite a surreal moment. I wondered if
I should have left when I had the chance.
"Ummmmm, you okay?" I asked, not quite sure what to do.
"Heh, I think so."
(Definitely should have left.)
"You, uh, need some help there?"
A paperback of King Lear slid off the top of the leaning
stack and plopped onto his head. He winced and grinned
shyly.
"No, I think I've got it under control."
(Should leave now.)
I gingerly stepped to the edge of the pile and stuck out my
hand. He took it, and I leaned back to pull him out of the
mess. My gaze swept over him involuntarily. He was my
height, with loose blond hair shining platinum under the
fluorescent lights. Baggy cargo pants and a clean white
Nike t-shirt hid a slender but toned frame. Piercing green
eyes met mine as he put his hand on my shoulder, wobbling
unsteadily on the scattered books.
"Thanks, umm..." He looked at me questioningly. I smiled
stupidly back, caught in his gaze. "Ummm, what's your
name?" he prompted.
"Oh, I'm sorry... I didn't..., I'm Alex," I said, kicking
myself. What was I, ten years old?
"Thanks. I'm Danny." He looked nervous. "But people just
call me Dan."
"Oh, okay." We stood awkwardly for a moment. Dan looked
blankly at the books as I fidgeted with the strap of my
backpack, trying to think of something to say.
"So....what happened?" I asked. He giggled, holding up a
copy of Beginning Shakespeare.
"The library tried to eat me when I put this back. I
guess... the shelf must have been loose or something." He
waved helplessly at the pile. "I don't know what I'm gonna
do with this."
"We could try to put them back..."
Another shelf collapsed with a rusty groan, adding a
complete set of "Stories of the Classical Age" to the pile.
I grinned at Dan.
"Or we could leave."
Nodding vigorously, Dan grabbed his pack and we headed for
the stairs. My hormones got the better of me and I held the
door for him, less for his convenience and more for me to
surreptitiously check him out. We walked up the stairs in
silence, Dan looking green again and me too nervous for
words. Why was this affecting me so much? It's not like
some random guy I met in the basement is gonna be my
soulmate or anything. He's probably not even g-, well,
"like me." Aaarrrggghhh. Why couldn't I even *think* the
word? Was I really that messed up? But what if he was?
What if he was into-- *BUMP*.
My reverie came to an abrupt end as I ran into Dan, who had
stopped at the first floor exit.
"Whoa, sorry dude. You okay?" I blurted. Dan's eyebrows
twitched quizzically as he looked at me.
"Yeah, I'm fine."
We stood there awkwardly for another few moments. Grrr.
What was going on today? I felt like a fourteen year old at
his first school dance, hiding behind the punch bowl and
terrified of kissing the girls. (Okay, so maybe that was
just me. But I still felt scared.)
"So....," Dan started, absentmindedly grinding his foot into
the slate floor. "You going to the Tower?"
Ohmigod. He asked where I lived! (Why would he ask that?)
But it's all good, 'cause I lived... I lived... on the other
side of campus. Shit. What if this was the last time I saw
him?
"No, I live on Hutchinson quad..." I thought I saw his face
fall slightly.
"Oh, okay. G'night," he said, turning quickly to walk out.
Shit shit SHIT! I was gonna lose him! So? Why would I
care? Because I liked him. Because he was... he was...
No.
I just wanted to see him again. That's all it was.
"Hey, wait up!" I couldn't believe it as I found myself
running after Dan into the warm fall air. He turned around,
surprise flickering in his jade eyes.
"Alex, I..." He paused. "I thought you were the other way."
Whoa. DEEP hidden meaning here. Does he mean... No, no,
I'm overanalyzing again. Shit.
"No, I'm not. I mean, yeah, I live on Hutchinson, but I...
wanted to get something for dinner before I go back." I
hesitated. "You, ummm, you want to come with me?"
Dan looked at me oddly, like he was trying to read my mind.
I started to have second thoughts about this. I didn't
think I could take more than one emotional collapse in the
same day. My anxiety got the better of me, sending my mouth
wandering off on its own.
"I mean, just something to eat. If you're not too busy...
but I guess it's kind of early still and you don't
necessarily eat this soon, but I do all the time and I just
thought that since you lived near the Center we might maybe
just hang out for a few minutes and..." I trailed off as I
saw Dan start to giggle. "What's so funny?" I asked,
feeling my face turn pink.
"Heh, it's just... do you always talk that fast?"
Now I really was blushing.
"No, just when I'm excited... or nervous," I admitted,
feeling small. This really had been a mistake. "It's no
big deal. I'll see you later."
I turned to leave, only to hear Dan who call after me.
"Hey, Alex!" My stomach did this weird flip-flop thing as
Dan approached. Urrrggghh.
"Listen, I have a film screening tonight in Hartman, but,
um, it's supposed to be over by eight. Why don't you drop
by and we'll grab a bite to eat?"
Ohmigod. Was he asking me out on a... a... No. We're both
guys and it's just a friendly bit of companionship.
So why was I sweating?
"Uh, sure. Where did you say?"
"Hartman. You know, the film building." Right, right.
Where was that again?
"Okay, okay, sure," I spluttered, trying unsuccessfully not
to seem too eager. "I'll be there at eight." Dan giggled
and walked off, leaving me grinning stupidly in the fading
light. I didn't care who saw me. I didn't even care that I
had to spend another two hours waiting in Hell with my
roommate.
I was going to see him again.
(End part one)
--------------
Yeah, yeah, yeah. That's a mean place to stop the story.
But that's the way it goes...;) Comments, suggestions, etc.
are welcome at:
starsong@subdimension.com
Come on! Authors are real feedback whores :).
See other stuff of mine at:
http://www.angelfire.com/ego/starsong
--------------
standard legal stuff:
This story, its content, themes and characters, are
copyright (c) 2002 by "starsong"
{starsong@subdimension.com}. You may freely duplicate,
reproduce, and distribute this work IN ITS ENTIRETY ONLY so
long as (1) no fee is charged beyond what is required to pay
for duplication, (2) it is not modified, (3) the header and
footer (including but not limited to the disclaimer and this
notice) remain intact, and (4) you give the author
appropriate credit. You may not steal the characters or use
unquoted excerpts.