Date: Fri, 25 May 2001 11:19:24 -0400
From: bright lite <brightlite52@hotmail.com>
Subject: Eric's Song, Chapter 4

Copyright 2001.  Disclaimer:

a) The following story is a work of fiction, and the rights of this
series belong to its author.

b) If you are breaking one or more of your local laws by reading this,
don't read any further! And,

c) Ok, so it's not a very `erotic' story-or maybe it is depending on
your point of view.  Life seems to be more about what happens to you in
between the exciting parts, and there's plenty of that to share.  I
hope you continue to enjoy the story, and I am sorry that I have been
unable to write as prolifically as some of my favorite authors here.
My apologies for the gaps in between chapters, but as long as there is
a story to tell, I will continue to do my best to tell it.

Bright Lite d:P


Chapter 4.  The Road to Expectations. . .

	I came through the front door of the apartment, still thinking
about how strange my day had been, having been startled then befriended by
a total stranger.  He just showed up and acted like he knew me somehow, and
I couldn't decide if I was irritated at the intrusion or flattered by the
attention.  Who was he?  What did he want?  Did he have a girlfriend?  This
last thought kept popping back into my head the entire ride home.  I didn't
know what to think, but a more independent, stupider part of me did.

	Grandma was sitting in her chair, with a stack of coupons on the
table at her elbow and a pair of scissors in her hand.  She looked up with
a smile.  "Honey, did you have a nice time at the beach?"

	"Yeah, it was ok."

	"Which beach did you go to?"

	"South end of Davis-Jeez, gram, you know where I like to go."

	She smiled, lost in her memories.  "We owned a house there before
you were born; I often wish you could have had the opportunity to live
someplace besides an apartment.  Your grandfather and I never thought we'd
be raising another child, but God had other plans."

	I smiled too.  "It's not important.  Besides, you'd make me mow the
yard all the time."  I set down my backpack and flopped onto the couch, the
actual fabric of which I rarely saw since it was always well covered with
towels.

	"Well, sweetheart, having a house creates a lot of work, that's
true."  She waved the scissors at me.  "And please don't sit down there,
you've got sand all over you, and I just washed those towels."

	I rolled my eyes and got up, heading for the shower and a clean
change of clothes.  "Roger that, Houston."

	"Eric, you know better than to sit on the furniture when you're
dirty, and I don't need to hear sarcasm about it."

	I paused briefly on my way out of the room.  "But gram, you still
treat me like a little kid."  It was true, she did.  My point made, I
started walking again.

	She raised her voice so I was sure to hear.  "You're certainly old
enough to know better," came through clearly as I shut the bathroom door
behind me.

	 That week at work, I started looking for Chris and half hoping he
would reappear.  Jase and I were continuing our new arrangement of working
out together, alternating between running and lifting weights, and I felt
great, better than I had for a long time.  I had a friend to talk to, a guy
who was a lot like me, and supportive in every way.  Ok, make that two
friends-- and, as it turned out, all their friends as well.  Zach and Jase
were introducing me to people they knew, gay and straight, and I was
starting to feel comfortable with other people knowing I was gay.  Nobody
made much of a deal out of it, once I told them, although I had to admit I
was talking to a select crowd; I wasn't about to stand on the corner of the
street and tell every passer by.  I still didn't know what I was going to
say to Gram, but for now, it was enough to learn that I could simply be me.

	On Saturday, Chris showed up again.  I had carried some things to
the kitchen and was headed outside again, when I saw him sitting at the
same table next to the side door.  He waved, a big grin on his face.

	"Eric, hey it's me, Chris, remember?"

	"Sure, I remember you."  I juggled what I was carrying, and reached
for the door handle.  "You scared the living daylights out of me at the
beach, how could I forget?"

	He looked sheepish, so now it was my turn to grin at him.  I opened
the door and held it with my foot so I could talk.

	"Give me a minute, ok?  I need to take these out."

	"Sure."

	If I could have thrown the food to its destination I would have
cheerfully done so, I was in such a hurry to get back inside. Today was
such a beautiful day, too; there was a light breeze, and the trees overhead
cast dancing shadows everywhere I looked.  I made the rounds, then forced
myself to walk casually to the side door to where Chris was waiting
patiently.

	"Ok, I'm back."

	"So, how's it going?"  Chris leaned slightly towards me, and I
caught a whiff of cologne.

	"S'ok, just another busy day almost over."  What the heck was he
wearing, anyway?  It was subtle, and I felt my nostrils flare as I breathed
it in deeply.

	"Yeah?"

	I glanced over to the counter and caught Zach and Jase watching us
intently.  Jase grinned, then turned to say something to Jase.  Zach smiled
and they laughed, making me wonder just what the heck was so funny.

	"Yeah, I have to clear a few things, then I'm done."

	"Then what?"

	"Um. . .well, I have to work out."

	He smiled.  "I do a little of that myself, what gym do you go to?"

	"Actually, I work out with Jase."

	"Really?"  Chris looked over to where Zach and Jase were suddenly
busy, a flurry of activity masking their earlier interest.

	"Yeah, Jase has been helping me out."

	"Looks like he's doing a good job."  Chris reached over and gripped
my nearest bicep between his fingers and squeezed.  I flexed the arm, while
he struggled to find a weak point.  The moment stretched on in my mind, the
image of Chris reaching out to me, his hand holding my arm while I grinned
stupidly at him and tried to impress him with my strength.

	"So, what brings you here?"

	Chris let go of my arm and sat back, relaxing as he stretched one
leg out into the aisle and hooked an arm around the back of his chair.

"Oh, I came for coffee, and--I hear the service is good here."

"We aim to please."  I pushed back and went over to Jase, who grabbed a
couple of mugs and poured them for me.  He winked, his back to Chris and
the look on my face must have been a good one because it caused Zach to put
his fist over his mouth and cough to keep from laughing.  Exasperated, I
took the cups over to the table, where Chris was sitting expectantly.

"You want anything with it?"

"Nah, I like my coffee straight."  He looked across the top of the cup at
me and I got the strangest feeling that he was sharing some private joke.
His eyes were a beautiful green, and I wondered if anyone had ever told him
that.

"Thanks for the coffee, Eric."

I held out my hand.  "That's a dollar and seventy-five cents please."

"Oh, um, hang on a second."  He fumbled at his back pocket, putting his cup
down in the process, then pulled out his wallet and handed me a five.
"Keep the change, I'm ok."

I passed it back with a laugh.  "That's ok. . .it's on me.  And besides,
I'm worth more than a couple of bucks."

We talked for a while, sitting at that table by the door, and I learned a
few things about Chris, most of which I could relate to; he was intelligent
and funny, he talked about his parents, and that he was attending college
in the Northeast.  This last item made me wistful.  I was half hoping that
he lived in the area, and that I would get the chance to know him better.
I didn't care at that moment if he was gay or not, I just knew that I liked
him.

With the last of the patrons leaving, Jase came over, and interrupted our
conversation to ask me if I was still going to work out today.  I nodded,
and Chris asked if he could join us.

"Mind if I tag along?"

"No, not at all, but Eric and I go running afterward, so unless. . ."

Zach had wandered over and put one hand on Jase's shoulder.  "You can hang
out with me while they're gone, I could use a hand watering the plants.
You interested?"

"Sure, glad to help."

Chris and Jase walked away, shaking hands as they introduced themselves,
and I followed after, glancing back at Zach, who along with Kara had begun
wiping the tables down.  He caught my eye, and gave me a quick smile, then
pretended to fan himself with his rag.  Kara looked at him, then at me, her
hands on her hips as she frowned in annoyance.

"Far be it from me to make suggestions Zach, but, next time--get a little
work out of them before you let them off the hook, ok?"