Date: Tue, 5 Apr 2016 22:23:45 -0600
From: Roe St. Alee <roesaintalee@hotmail.com>
Subject: How I Got Carter 18

This story contains sexual content, involving high school age males. If
this offends you, please leave this page immediately. This story is a work
of fiction, and any similarities to real life people, places, and
situations is purely a coincidence.

If the above does not offend you, please enjoy!  Your questions and
comments are always welcome, so email me at roesaintalee@hotmail.com.

Thank you to everyone who has emailed so far.  Honestly without the support
of the Nifty community, I wouldn't still be writing this.  A big thanks to
Olivia, Jim, and Alex for their help with editing this chapter.  You guys
rock!

Don't forget to donate to Nifty, and keep this site thriving.

Enjoy!

-------       -------       -------       -------

It's finally here!


Opening night.


Or rather, it's the very early predawn hours of the day that will
eventually turn into opening night.  My alarm isn't set to go off for
almost another hour, but I'm so excited I can't imagine I'll be able to
fall back asleep.


Instead, I try to quiet my mind and focus on the day to come.  I need to
save some of this excitement for later.  There's still a full day of
school.  I have a math quiz.  I need to turn in homework.  After that, I
can really get stoked.


Unfortunately, I don't see that happening.  I'm already buzzing with
energy, and after a few fruitless minutes of waiting for my brain to shut
back off so I can snooze, I decide to get out of bed and make it an early
one.


First things first: breakfast.


Usually I'll shower and get dressed first thing in the morning, but I think
today needs to start with a nice, hearty breakfast.  I'm rummaging through
the fridge for something to eat when my phone goes off.  I pull out milk,
yogurt, and an apple before checking my messages.


It's Katy.


[ GET PUMPED!!!!!! ]


Of course it's Katy.  She knows me too well.  She doesn't even have to ask
if I'm up already.  Anytime I'm excited, I'm up and at 'em way too early.
She's the same way.  I type in a quick response.


[ I'm trying to get a jump start on my Tony acceptance speech ;) ]


She'll get a kick out of that.


I wolf down my food like any good teenage boy as we exchange a few more
texts back and forth.  Since she's awake, I coerce her into giving me a
ride to school.  That'll give me a few more minutes to get ready, so I run
upstairs to shower and pick out clothes.  During our breakfast, Katy and I
also decided that we're going to look good today, so I'll need to pick
something extra special to wear.


I eventually decide on my favorite mustard yellow corduroys and a trendy
purple sweater from Banana Republic.  It's a great look for me.  Katy
helped me pick out these pants, and the sweater was a lucky find at a
thrift store a few months ago.  I spend a few extra minutes getting my hair
perfect and take a good long look at myself in the mirror.


I look damn good.  Not just regular good.  Fantastic, in fact.  And when
you look good, you feel good.


I'm sure part of it is the excitement of the show tonight, but there's
something else.  I feel positive vibes, and it's practically radiating out
from me.  Not just about the show.  About everything.  Today is going to be
one hell of a good day.  I'm sure of it.


I shove my books in my backpack and realize, as I'm heading out the door to
meet Katy, that this is the first time I've felt like this since... you
know.


I haven't felt bad.  But I haven't felt like this.  This is the feeling
Carter used to give me.  I used to pop off the pillow to a text from him
and be energized to go to school, because I knew he would be there.  I
would count down the minutes until study hall when we might sit together,
and then anxiously await the end of the day when we would both be in
chemistry, whether we were working on a lab together or just going over
some homework and casually talking and flirting in between problems.


Even though we weren't dating, I felt a closeness to him.  It was all
friendly, besides the few times we fooled around of course, but he lit up
everything inside me and made me feel like I was something really special.
I mean, if you're sleeping with a guy like Carter, you must be something
special.


In the weeks since, it's been hard to tell if that feeling was only
something I ever felt with Carter, or if it was something I was just now
missing because my time with Carter had made it so strong.  Had it been
there before him?  Was it inside me all along?


Honestly, I don't know.  But today, I'm feeling it.  I'm feeling it like I
haven't in weeks and weeks, and this time it's making me even happier,
because it's just me.  It's not anything I'm depending on from someone
else.  I have myself and I have the things that are constant in my life -
friends, family, and the play tonight.  Those are all my things.  Things
that can't get taken away from me.


Damn that feels good.


Before I can even blink it's already lunchtime, and Ko and I are chowing
down on today's special, chicken alfredo.  If it's anything it's another
omen pointing to a great day, as it's one of the best things they ever make
at school.  According to me and Ko at least.


Katy swings by for a few minutes as we're finishing up to figure out our
exact plans for tonight.  We don't have to be at the theater until a few
hours after school ends, but Katy and I decide to head over there
immediately after our last class.  Opening night is a huge deal, and we
want to savor and soak up as much of it as we can.


The rest of the day comes and goes in a flash, and I'm back to practically
purring with excitement by the time I get to chemistry.  Today is a lecture
day, and as riveting as Nizen's discourse on valence electrons is, I can
only think of one thing.  In less than five hours I'll be on stage.


We wrap up class with about twenty minutes to spare, and I'm not sure what
I'll do.  I'm so full of energy I feel like I might burst.  And I need to
sit here and pretend to do my chemistry homework for almost half an hour?
Not likely.


But I do need to get some of this homework done, and merely pretending to
do it won't help the time go by any faster.  Tonight I'll be busy with the
show, and I already have at least half of tomorrow's study hall locked up
to finish an English assignment.


I resign myself to getting my homework done and manage to slog through a
few problems.  Tonight's work is tedious, but not hard.  I'm picking up
well on this chapter, and my good mood surprisingly translates into a
decent focus, so I knock one problem out after another.  I should be able
to get almost all of the assignment done if I don't get stuck on anything.


"Jackson."


I jerk my head up in surprise at the sound of my name.  I get the
impression that it wasn't the first try to get my attention.


"Yeah?"


I turn to see Carter leaning over towards my desk with a piece of paper in
his hand.


"You're really good at these, right?" he asks.  "Does number seven look
weird to you?"


I grab his paper and look down at seven.  His process is right, but he made
a mistake on adding everything up at the end.  That's not like Carter.  I'm
more of a detail person than he is, but he still usually double checks all
of his work.


"You added it up wrong," I say, and hand it back.


Before he even takes the paper out of my hand, my focus is back on my own
and I'm working on the next problem.  I get the vague sensation that he's
still looking at me, but I ignore it.  If he wants to talk to me he can say
something.  For now I have bigger fish to fry.  This homework needs to
distract me until the bell rings, and then it's opening night.


I have to smile a bit as I get back into my work.  Even Carter can't
distract me from my high today.  This really is my element.


After what seems like a decade, the bell rings.  From that moment, I feel
like I'm floating through a fog.  Out of the classroom and over to my
locker.  Then from the locker up to the drama classroom to grab a few
things I stashed in there this morning.  Then down all the way across the
school to the auditorium.  I don't notice the people in the halls around me
or the noise and commotion of the end of the school day.  There's a
thousand little dramas in a high school hallway, but for me it's just a
journey through limbo, the school day finally done and the big night only
moments away.


Stepping into the auditorium, everything comes into focus.  This is where
it all happens.


I put my bag and a few other things in my cubby in the dressing room.  A
few other people have gotten here already, but so far no sign of Katy.  I
manage to finagle the promise of a few pieces of pizza from a senior on
stage crew who's leaving for a while to grab some food.  I probably won't
have time to leave at all.  Curtain is at 6pm for our show tonight, and I
want to make sure there's plenty of time to get my makeup done.


Back in my freshman year, I had actually been pretty nervous about my first
show.  I hadn't done much acting before, but thought that maybe theater was
something I wanted to try.  Imagine my surprise when I snagged a meaty role
in my first ever show!  The Reverend Hale in Arthur Miller's "The
Crucible."  Not bad for a rookie.


From the first day of practice, I was surprised at how comfortable I felt
on stage.  It was easy once you were up there doing it, and I was getting
along with everybody in the company too.  Things were going great, and I
came into our last week of rehearsal with a full head of steam and all the
confidence in the world.


Oh, the naivete of Jackson the freshman.  Opening night hit me like a
freight train.


The whole day leading up to it had been pretty similar to today - I was
riding high on what I thought was almost guaranteed to be my smash hit,
break out performance.  I swaggered into the auditorium after school
laughing and joking with the other kids in the show, a big smile on my
face.  Everything was looking up, until the moment I stepped out onto the
stage.


Luckily it was still a few hours until we were going to start.  I didn't
even have my makeup or costume on yet.  I just wanted to get a feel for
what it would be like once I got up there to perform.  I pushed out from
behind the curtain and walked onto the exposed part of the stage.


At that exact moment, our technical director decided she wanted to run
through the lighting cues one more time.  The house lights came down, and
then there I was.


Under the stage lights, all my confidence flew straight out the window.
The lights suddenly felt hotter and brighter than they ever had during
rehearsal.  Instead of squinting out through the glare to see our director
and a few other people, I saw row after row after row of chairs.  In a few
hours, they wouldn't just be chairs, they would be full of people.  From
the looks of it, half the town would be there watching me!


Heart pounding, I ran back through the curtain and into the calming blue
lights of backstage.  How the hell was I going to do this?


It's like all the nerves I hadn't been feeling about the show for the past
few weeks suddenly came to life in a giant wave of fear and anxiety.  I
closed my eyes and forced myself to breathe slow, even breaths.  I willed
myself not to cry, even though I wanted to.  Maybe if I said I was sick,
they would get someone else to...


"Hey!"


I looked around to see who was talking to me.  I didn't see anyone from
stage crew, but I had definitely heard a voice calling me, a girl.


"Up here!"


I looked up into the grid and could just make out the shadow of a figure
above me.  There was a sort of catwalk above our stage where you can go to
adjust lights, hook up set pieces, or even string up a harness for our
school's infamous production of Peter Pan.  Let's just say that having high
schoolers in charge of your flying harness might not be the safest idea.


But now there was a voice calling me from somewhere up there.  I walked to
the back of the backstage area where the access ladder was, and was
surprised to find that it was open.  Usually they kept it closed unless
someone needs to go up there to fix something.  They didn't want us kids
wandering up there whenever we felt like it.


I climbed the ladder and found the source of the mystery voice from above:
Katy.


At the time, Katy was a bit of an anomaly to me.  She was a year older and
seemed so serious about everything in theater.  She was the person who
showed up to the first rehearsal totally off book, and she wasn't afraid to
give you pointers if you needed it during our practices.  Never in a snooty
or off putting way, but it was still intimidating to work with her.  She
definitely wasn't someone I ever had the guts to try and buddy up with.


"First big show?" she asked as I popped my head through the ladder hatch
and into the grid.


"Yeah," I said, shuffling over to sit next to her as best I could.  The
roof there was only about five feet tall, and there were loads of
connectors, fixtures, and who knows what drilled into the ceiling, so you
had to walk through all hunched over.


"It's a lot different when the chairs are out there, isn't it?" she said.


"Yeah," I said again.  Just a single word, but I could tell we were on the
same page.  An empty auditorium could never convey how many people were
going to be out there watching me on stage that night.


"Are you nervous?" she asked.


I nodded and looked out again at all the empty seats.  In less than two
hours those would all be full.  I'd have to walk on stage to deliver my
lines, with all those people looking...


"Good," said Katy, giving my hand closest to her a reassuring pat.  "Cause
that means you're excited."


I threw her an incredulous look.  She made it sound so simple, but she had
been doing this for a while, so I figured I should hear her out.


I still remember the feeling I got when she turned and smiled.  I blushed.
Not because a cute girl was getting close with me - even then I was pretty
sure I wasn't interested in girls - but because this girl who was so good
at something I wanted to be good at was being nice to me.  Even though I
was nervous, I could feel the warmth from her smile.  That's the power Katy
has, the same thing she does when she's acting up on the stage.  She can
radiate a feeling straight over to you.


"Don't worry, Jackson," she continued.  "You're going to feel nervous for a
little bit, but by the time we get out on stage, it's all going to turn
into a rush.  When you actually step out into the lights, you won't be
nervous at all."


It sounded so simple.


"Are you sure?" I asked, before I could stop myself from saying it.  I
sounded like an idiot, so unsure of myself.


"I've done this before," she answered with a wink.  "Nervous and excited -
it's the same thing.  Same feeling, just whether you're happy or scared
while you're feeling it."


We talked for another fifteen or twenty minutes, until there wasn't any
time to spare.  Katy took me down to the stage then back to the dressing
room where she did my makeup for me.  There was something so calming about
being around her.  Like she had done this a thousand times already, and
that there was absolutely nothing to be nervous about.  By the time the
curtain rose, Katy was right.  The nervous feeling in the pit of my stomach
had morphed into an excited energy that wanted nothing more than to go out
there and give those people the best show I could.


Over the next few weeks we became best friends, and to this day she still
does my makeup for me before every show.  Usually she'll do mine early,
since it's a little weird to have one of the actors doing makeup, instead
of the girls on the makeup crew.  Then I sit with her while she gets hers
done.  At this point we're 3 years into the tradition and it's still one of
my favorite parts of a show night.


"There's my little superstar!"


Katy's voice pulls me back to the present moment and I turn around to see
her practically strut into the dressing room with her makeup bag.  She acts
like she owns the place around here, which as a senior with her reputation
and experience, she pretty much does.  And I don't mean that in a bad way.
It's more like she's invested so much of her time and energy here over the
last few years that she's as much a part of our theater as the dressing
room itself.


My makeup for this show is awesome, but it takes a while to get it right.
I wear a mask over my eyes, but the bottom half of my face still shows.
Katy colors it to match the mask, then puts deep, dark lines all around my
mouth, giving my expressions a crazy, almost supernatural look under the
lights.  I don't know how she figured it out, but I can't wait to suit up.


With a flourish, Katy pulls out the first couple items from her bag and
gets to work.


******* ******* ******* *******


I know how it must seem to other people.  Everything about the theater,
from beginning to end, is cheesy and cliché.  We put on musty old
costumes with all sorts of velvety fabrics and tights and stupid looking
hats.  We speak trite, archaic words - you could just look them up in a
book if you really care what we're talking about - and prance around on
stage between fake replicas of objects.  Plywood and polyester, painted and
sewn, with centuries old words that you've heard a hundred times before.


And somehow, it's magic.


Everything we're doing up there is fake, from the clothes to the set
pieces, with our mediocre acting to top it all off.  Yet somehow, on
certain nights, with the lights shining down just right, a strange energy
will take hold.  On stage we start to feel it a few minutes into the show,
and then it seeps into the audience and they start to feel it too.  Then
the actors start to notice that the audience is feeling it, and they feel
it even more.  And this magical, inexplicable feeling starts reflecting and
intensifying back and forth between the two until no one's noticing
anything anymore.


Maybe you've never experienced it, but I can assure you it's very real.  It
doesn't happen every single night, and most nights it's not so intense.
But every once in awhile it strikes a chord, like a low hum reverberating
in a stairwell.  And everybody feels it.


That's how opening night goes.


There's magic in the air from the moment we step on stage.  By the time
Quince and Bottom appear, there's a palpable energy in the theater.  We're
giddy with excitement as we wait for our entrances in the wings, and
everyone on stage is on fire.  When an audience is laughing at 400 year old
jokes, you know you're doing it right.


The first half of the show flies by, and before we know it, the curtain is
dropping for intermission.  Backstage we can't stop smiling and giggling.
We're crushing it tonight.


As is our tradition, Katy and I meet at the ladder.  "Our ladder," as we
sometimes call it.  We check to make sure the coast is clear, flip the
latch that allegedly secures the ladder, and then climb up to the grid as
fast as we can.  I'm in the first scene of the second act, so we might only
have a few minutes to take it all in.


We scoot up to the front of the catwalk, which actually extends past the
curtain.  That way we can sneak a peek out into the auditorium without
being spotted.  This is where we first met, and ever since that first show
we like to come up here during the break to people watch and get a quick
breather.


Within a few minutes I've spotted a bunch of my classmates and teachers,
and even my favorite assistant principal, Ms. Zidnik.  Nice of her to come
out tonight.


"There's your mom!" Katy points out over the left side of the stage, near
the front.


I look over and see her with Randy and Sarah and my aunt.  I told Mom to be
over on the side of the stage since there's a part of the show where I get
to jump out at the audience right in that corner.  I'm hoping it will get a
reaction from everyone, but the thought of scaring my little brother and
sister is the best part.


In the row behind them I can see Ko texting on his phone.  At least he's
not asleep.  Katy and I are pretty sure that he secretly likes coming to
see our plays, but he always makes a big fuss about it, just like the
football games.  I know his mom and dad are coming to the play tomorrow and
they'll probably make him come with them too.  Strange to see a play twice
if you hate it that much.


More in the middle section I spot Katy's parents talking to a few older
folks I don't recognize.  And sitting next to them...


"He's sitting with your parents?!" I exclaim.


Katy jabs me in the side with her fingers.


"Don't even start with me," she whines.  "He was picking me up to go to the
movies last week and they asked if he had tickets yet."


"And they bought him one?"


Katy sighs.  "They didn't really give him a choice."


Poor Jeff.  Katy's parents are nice people, don't get me wrong, but that
seems like a big step.  Out to see a show with the in-laws.  Yikes!


I scan back across the aisles to see if I know any of the people coming
back out of the lobby into the auditorium.  I see the delivery guy from our
favorite pizzeria and the lady who checks the parking meters in town.  It's
not a bad turnout for a Thursday night...


No.


Shit!


It's Carter.


He's walking up the aisle.


Why didn't he say that he was coming tonight?  He saw me in chemistry and
could have mentioned it, then I at least would have had my guard up.
Instead, I'm staring down at him and wondering if it's too late to get an
understudy to finish off the show.  Slap enough makeup on him and people
wouldn't even know the difference.


Just then, the lights flash in the auditorium, indicating the end of
intermission and the start of the second half of the show.  For the
audience, that means it's time to find your seat.  For Katy and me, it's
time to get the heck out of the dusty grid and get back down to our
dressing rooms.


I try to shake the thought of Carter from my mind as I clamber back down
the ladder.  The same questions run through my head on repeat: Why is he
here?  Why didn't he tell me he was coming?  What does it mean?


I'm not especially careful about checking to see if the coast is clear as
we descend.  Luckily no one sees until we're almost to the dressing rooms,
and we manage to slip seamlessly in with all the other actors like we were
never even gone.


I think everyone has something in their lives that can take your mind off
of anything in a heartbeat.  For Ko it's his models that he likes to build.
For Sam it's archery.  Thankfully, for me it's acting.  By the time I sit
down for a quick touchup on my stage makeup, the thought of anything at all
to do with Carter is miles away.  I'm thinking of my stage directions, my
lines, and a few key spots that I really want to turn up the intensity. I'm
right back in the zone.


Acting has always been like that for me.  From the first time I was in a
play - a ramshackle retelling of the story of King Arthur and his knights
in second grade - I've always been able to get lost in the craft.


When I was obsessing over Carter, Drama was always one of the best periods
of the day.  I would go an entire class without thinking about Carter once.
Even when things were going well between us it was a welcome relief to get
away for a little bit.  And when it wasn't going well, it was an absolute
life saver.


Tonight is certainly no exception.  The first half of the show went well,
and even in the dressing room I can feel the energy building back up.
There's a buzz around all the actors, and once something like that gets
going, it sucks you right in.


Forget about Carter.  Forget about all of it.


It's time for the second act.  It's time to perform.  The first half of the
show was fire, and we need to keep it up.


And we do it.


If anything, the second half is even better than the first.  I forget that
Carter's even here - hell, I forget about Carter completely.  Katy's not
thinking about Jeff's awkward date with her parents, and even Ko is
probably sitting out there hanging on our every word.  It feels natural,
easy, and right.  This is exactly where we're supposed to be right now.


The curtain swings shut as we wave our final goodbyes to the crowd.  The
applause is almost deafening.  As the noise dies down, the cast and crew
stand backstage together, basking in the afterglow of a great performance.
I try to take a snapshot of the moment in my mind.  That instant when the
curtain closes and the world goes dark.


Everyone is beaming from ear to ear, and we share one final, perfect moment
together in happy silence.  You can feel the energy and contentment
radiating from everyone around.  You might only get one performance like
this in the entire run.  It's crazy that it's opening night, but I'll take
it.  We killed it, and a moment like this is a perfect one.


The house lights come on, and that includes the lights backstage.  The
sudden return of our sight snaps us out of our reverie, but only partially.
The success is still real, and the smiles aren't going anywhere anytime
soon.


Except maybe mine.


Because the instant the lights come up, there's only one thing I can think
about.


Carter.


He's here.  He's out there.  And after a whole night of not thinking about
him for a second, it's almost like my brain releases the flood gates and
all of my pent up Carter thoughts and emotions come pouring out.  Why was
he here?  What did he think of the show?  Did he actually come to see me?
There are thousands of questions racing through my brain, and I'm powerless
to stop them.


I should know better, especially now.  The last few weeks have actually
been great for me, and I've been avoiding Carter to the best of my
abilities.  My grades are great, I'm spending lots of time with my friends,
soccer is wrapping up a good season, and tonight's show was undoubtedly a
smashing success.


So why does thinking of Carter feel like opening up a massive hole inside
of my heart?


Ugh.  I'm disgusted with myself for being so weak about Carter.  I can't
even deny it.  Ever since we split up I feel empty.  Everything I've done
seems drab and flavorless in retrospect.  Perfectly decent memories, but
suddenly whitewashed into blandness with the absence of Carter.  Even now,
in the middle of what should be the best feeling of my life - coming hot
out of the gates with a killer performance in the play - I'm absolutely
crushed by the thought of being alone.


I make myself small and shrink back into the rear of the backstage area.  I
see my fellow cast and crew members shuffle out the wings, laughing and
carrying on, floating away to the audience on the high of a great
performance.  I don't want to rain on their parade.


I grab a few props and try to sort them out, finding their homes in the
cubbies we have on the wings.  A few minutes, I tell myself, and I'll be
back to my normal self.  I just need to keep busy and wait until my mind
drifts back away from Carter and I can enjoy the success of the night.
He'll be gone out of the theater, and I can go see my mom and other friends
from school, who I'm sure will stick around until I come out to wish me the
best.


I wonder if it's always going to be like this.  I'll go the next few weeks
feeling good and living my life and then... Bam.  I'll be struck with loss
and resentment, and the inescapable feeling of having missing a piece of
myself.  Something I feel even stupider for, since I never even had it in
the first place.  I was kidding myself all along, and now I'm going to
carry that around like a lead weight for the rest of my life.


A few more minutes, I tell myself.  I grab an extension cord up off the
floor and start spooling it up.  I decide that once I'm done putting it
away I'll head out into the auditorium.  My mom, Ko, and Katy are probably
waiting around for me at this point.  I can tell them that I was putting
some things away, or that I was trying to find my phone or something.  Once
I get out there I'll be back to normal, distracted once again from the dark
feelings that are always lurking beneath the surface.


"Hey!"


I freeze, and the half spooled cord I'm holding drops from my fingers back
onto the floor.  It couldn't be...


"That was amazing."


I turn around, and have to fight the urge to throw up or pass out,
or... something!  It's a sight to behold.  Carter, dressed up in khaki
pants and a blue button up that fits perfectly, standing under the dim,
dramatic lights backstage.  There's an aura around him, a presence, and it
takes my breath away.  Not only to see him, but to see him like this!


We haven't been alone together since the morning after the football game.
The last time we talked - more than just conveying information about
chemistry back and forth that is - was when he told me what we we're doing
was gay.  I agreed, but we both had very different opinions of what that
meant.


And that was that.  But now he's standing here, one on one, and he's just
absolutely resplendent as always.  How attractive he looks only makes me
angrier.  At him of course, but more at myself.  After all this, I'm still
ready to bow down and worship this beautiful but infuriating boy.  How
stupid can I be?


"You were amazing, Jackson."


He's so earnest.  He always is.  He pauses before he says things, and it
makes you think that he's really thinking about it.  He looks you dead in
the eye when he speaks, and it makes you really believe it.  And now he's
telling me I was amazing, and I'll never ever forgive myself if I believe
him for even a second.


"Seriously.  You were incredible."


I'm melting.  My anger with him is withering with every word, and it only
makes me madder with myself.  I am in awe of this boy.  His words, his
looks, his sincerity.  It's all so damn infuriating.  He broke my heart and
I can't even tell him off, I'm so busy getting butterflies in my stomach
because he's here alone with me backstage and he's telling me that I'm
amazing.


Without saying anything else, Carter reaches out with a huge bouquet of
flowers.  I feel all the blood leave my head and I have to will myself not
to pass out.  With a shaky hand, I reach out and take the flowers.


"Thanks," I finally manage to stutter.  "They're beautiful."


I'm not sure what to say.  I'm still trying to wrap my head around what's
happening here.  Carter came to find me backstage - looking stunning, I
should add - and then handed me a bouquet.  Is it just some weird joke?


I look back up at Carter from my flowers, and he's smiling at me.  He takes
a step towards me, and now we're just a few feet apart.


"I don't want to ruin your night, but there was something I wanted to tell
you."  He tries to gauge my reaction, but I keep my face as neutral as I
can.  If what he's about to say is going to ruin my night, I don't want to
hear it.


"Go ahead," I tell him.  Since we're both already here, he might as well
get it over with.  I can't imagine what he could say that would ruin
anything.  We already aren't speaking, and we've already blown up over the
fact that I'm in love with him.  How much worse could it get?


"I'm sorry," he says.  His eyes drop and he stares down at the floor,
almost like he's ashamed.


A big part of me wants to really rub his nose in it and tell him that what
he did to me was so messed up, and that I'll never forgive him.  But he's
so damn cute when he gets like this.


"Hey," I say, taking another little step in his direction, "it's ok.  I'm
sorry too," I add.  "I shouldn't have sprung all that on you.  I shouldn't
have-"


"No."  Carter cuts me off.  "You don't have to be sorry for anything.
You've been..."  He searches for the words.  "You've been perfect,
Jackson."  He moves a little closer, and our faces are less than a foot
away from each other.  "You've been perfect."


What does he mean, calling me perfect?  He's the perfect one!  I'm the one
who's trying to pull him away from his normal, straight life.  I'm the
underdog here, trying to take our friendship to places it probably
shouldn't go.  In his eyes, if nothing else, I can't imagine how I'm
perfect.


"I don't know what you mean, I tried to-"


He stops me again.  "You've been honest with me, and I know that was hard.
The truth is, I haven't been honest with you."  He shakes his head.  "I
haven't been honest with anyone."


Maybe it's just the stage lighting, but I've never seen him look this
intense.  His eyes are so powerful right now, bursting with meaning and
sincerity.  Fuck him, he's so damn hot.


"You can be honest with me," I offer, drawn towards him, as though he's
going to whisper and I want to be sure I can hear it.  "I wasn't... I'm
not... mad at you.  You know you can trust me."


His eyes bore into me, but his look softens.  "I know I can."


Carter leans forward, and kisses me.