Date: Thu, 28 Feb 2008 19:49:35 +0100
From: A.K. <andrej@andrejkoymasky.com>
Subject: The Life Wheel 06/15 (High schhol)

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

THE LIFE WHEEL
by Andrej Koymasky (C) 2008
written on October 1, 1991
translated by the author
English text kindly revised by The Australian

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

USUAL DISCLAIMER

"THE LIFE WHEEL" is a gay story, with some parts containing graphic
scenes of sex between males. So, if in your land, religion, family,
opinion and so on this is not good for you, it will be better not to
read this story. But if you really want, or because YOU don't care, or
because you think you really want to read it, please be my welcomed
guest.

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

CHAPTER 6 - Marco 4 and Matteo 5

Marco

School resumed and we had our first lesson with Matteo that day.

He was not tanned, despite the holidays, but he was still so beautiful
and full of happiness at seeing us again.  I'm more in love with him
than ever before.

We had a rehearsal, like for an oral test, but without being called to
his desk and without him giving us a mark.  When it was my turn, he
complimented me because I had thoroughly prepared.

When we were in the corridor after the lesson, he told me, "I have been
really pleased seeing the improvement you are making, and that you are
at last utilizing all your talents. Bravo, Marco, continue like that."

What made me happy was not so much his 'bravo', but rather the fact he
told me that he was pleased.

When I brought home the first term report-card to be signed by my Dad,
he was happy and told me he wanted me enter university next year. He
asked me what I would like to study. I said I would like to study
literature and  become a teacher.

Dad said, "Ah, like professor Cordero. He really is a smart teacher. You
know, he is the only one who doesn't make me feel ill at ease because
I'm just a workman. He talks in a simple way, so that I can understand
him, and he has regard for me, as if I were a Doctor or the like. You
are lucky having a teacher who, in spite of his youth, is so smart.   He
really seems to cares about his students. If you become a teacher like
he is, I would be very proud of you."

I think that this has been one of the longest speeches I heard from Dad.
Who knows what he would think if he knew I am in love with my teacher!

At the beginning of the second term father Cesare, our religion Prof.
told us something that made me think a lot. We were in our classroom
talking of the Church who is the sacrament of Christ on Earth.

At a certain point Stefano said, "Sorry, father Cesare, I like Christ,
I'm certain of that, but I really can't say that I like the church. Just
look at all the gay people, us in particular.  According to your church
we will all go to hell. On the day of the Final Judgement, your God
would say to us, 'You're a faggot?  Down to the eternal fire with you'!
So, why must I love such a God, as you tell us we should?"

"The church is Christ's spouse and as such particularly assisted by his
spirit. But at the same time the church is made by all of us, therefore
she is deeply human. This means that the church is, at the same time, a
saint and a sinner exactly like any of us. She condemned Galileo and I
don't think that Christ did really agree with that. We at present,
understand that the church was wrong. Pope John XXIII told us something
that the church throughout the centuries seemed to have forgotten, 'Do
not confuse the sin and the sinner'.

"Therefore at present the church condemns homosexuality as a kind of
moral disorder, but not the homosexual people. I believe that on the
Last Judgement Day, God will not ask us if we were straight or gay. I am
sure he will ask us 'Did you always do your best to love everybody? Or
were you a selfish person?    You have a boyfriend.  Did you give him
the best of yourself hoping only for his well-being, or did you just use
him for your selfish pleasure?' If you really love him, God will make
you sit amongst his saints, because you will able to accept His love. If
you didn't love, you will not able to accept his love, therefore it will
be you that shuts yourself in what we call Hell."

I then thought "I really love Matteo, therefore God, (providing he
exist),  approves of me".  Well, I could be stupid, because I don't even
know if God exists or not, but the thought made me feel better, lighter,
more serene.  The fact remains.  My loving Matteo is a positive and
beautiful thing.  Why can't he love me?

Life is full of mysteries that neither philosophy nor religion are able
to solve. But at least religion is more honest than philosophy, because
it admits that there are mysteries, and doesn't pretend to explain
everything like philosophy or science does.

During the second term we went in a school trip to Florence. As I hoped,
Matteo came with us. I enjoyed his company for a solid five days.  He
was smart, as one would expect but differently from the other Profs.
Matteo spends all his time with us, mixes with us, and has his meals
with us too. Our other school mates in the other touring 3rd classes
were envious of us because of Matteo.

He explained plenty of interesting things to us with his usual passion
and fervor, but he also toyed with us, joked with us, and listened to
all our confidences.  Not at mine, because the only thing I would tell
him (and I couldn't) is that I'm in love with him.  I know that several
of my class-mates confided in him.   Not only does he speak well, but he
is good at listening.

He's able to understand us.  When he has to tell you that, in his
opinion, you are wrong, he says it without pontificating or without
malice but in such a kind and respectful manner, that he never offends
you, he never makes you feel bad. He helps you to reflect.

When he asks us to do something, none of us is able to refuse. I think
that our 3F is the most well-behaved class, especially with him because
he never imposes threatening discipline, but he reasons  and then he
asks us in a friendly way to do or not to do something.  None of us
choose to do differently.  It just comes naturally to us to do as he
asks.  I mean, if he says "Please, be silent or else  you will prevent
the others from concentrating (or to sleep, or to hear the TV) we become
silent and if one of us forgets,  or doesn't care about the situation,
we all ask that person to be quiet. This is how it works.

When we were visiting a museum he told us  "Now each of you can go again
and see  the art-work that is of interest to you, or you can take a
rest.  In fifteen minutes we must meet again at this spot".  We all
checked our watches and you could guarantee that in fifteen minutes, not
one of us was missing.  The other Profs. had  to go around to gather
their students and to scold them for being late. Just once Roberto came
five minutes late, breathless and excused himself.  All of us gave him a
good telling-off.

But Matteo said, "Losing track of time can happen to anybody now and
then, but you, Roberto, next time you think that being late is not a
question of just five minutes, but of five minutes for each one who is
waiting for you. This means that today, having lost those five minutes
to each of us, you have stolen what amounts to about two hours".

I never realized how right he was to think like that.  How does Matteo
say it? "The lesser of our actions doesn't just have  a personal
influence, it also has a social one, therefore it is always multiplied,
widened, be it for good or for bad, way beyond its apparent limits. He
who does a small solidarity gesture, can make all of society better.  He
who performs a selfish action, makes all of society worse by that act".

My admiration for Matteo does nothing but increase, and along with my
admiration... and my love.

May 5th 1985 was a date I will hardly forget. I came to know that a new
gay disco had been opened.  It was inaugurated the day before.   Leo,
who attended the first night  told me that it was worth a visit. So on
the 5th I went there with a couple of my friends.

I was at the counter waiting my turn to buy a drink, when I look around
and found in front of me... Matteo!  I looked carefully at him, as I
thought it impossible for him to be there.   Fleetingly, I thought that,
he may have thought that it was still a straight disco, as it was before
the renovations.  He came near me, smiling as always.

I asked him, "What are you doing here, Matteo? Don't you know that this
disco has became a gay one?"

"Yes, I have been told that."

"So, then, you just came to see what a gay place looks like? Are you
curious to check the ambience?"

He, tranquil and serene, said,  "No way, Marco. I'm not here out of
curiosity. I'm here because I am gay too."

At first I didn't believe him, but then I had even more serious doubts
about his statement. I became somewhat pissed off with him and said
"Don't take me for a ride! You always told us you weren't gay. Were you
telling us bullshit before, or are you telling me bullshit now?"

He told me it wasn't true, that he never said or made us believe he is
straight. Neither me or the others. He said it has been us who had
wrongly interpreted  his words or behaviour. He never though of washing
his dirty linen in public, but he never tried to hide it either.

I asked him again if he really is gay, and this time, I asked him if I
was his type. He answered that yes, I'm his type, but he could not
disappoint me telling me it was possible starting something with me,
because in his opinion a Prof. and a student should not have sex. They
cannot have a relationship any different to that the school type.

For a while we talked, sitting in a corner.  I asked him to go outside
for a while so that we could talk without the blare of the music
drowning us. We went out and we talked, walking up and down the street.

When we were outside I asked him to explain to me why a Prof. and a
student should not make love. We talked for a long while. At the end of
it, I was only half convinced of his reasoning.

I told him, "But I'm in love with you, I can't help it. Aren't you in
love with me?"

He barely answered me, because he said it was irrelevant and we could
neither become a couple nor just have a one night stand.  His words
didn't ring true. They led me to understand that he was in love with me
too. It would have been  simpler and more honest of him to just answer
"no".

"If I weren't one of your students, and if this evening was the first
time you met me and I tried to hook you, would you have come with me?
Tell me the truth, yes or no".

He said, "I really think I would, but..."

I smiled because I understood he was about to tell me one of his
favourite slogans  - History is not made with "if".

I continued, "I'm sorry you think that it's wrong to fall in love with
one of your students. Either that or I'm sorry for being one of your
students. Anyway I'll  accept and respect your choices.  Don't worry, I
won't tell anybody that you're gay and that I met you here".

He said it was alright, and told me that he hopes I don't stop studying
because of my disappointment.  I told him not to worry, as I wouldn't.
Then I asked him if we can meet after my graduation. He answered it
would be better we didn't so that my infatuation for him will abate.

While we were going back into the disco, I asked him if the friend he
came with was his boyfriend.  He shook his head and said that he wasn't.
 This confirmed to me what I rightly thought, that he too is was in love
with me.  If he thinks my love is just an infatuation, then he is wrong.

Back in the disco, Matteo went with his friend and I with mine. I was
looking at him dancing and he too looked at me. When I saw he was about
to leave I went over to him and whispered to his ear, "I'm not
infatuated, I'm in love with you. It's not the same thing, is it?" and
returned to the dance floor.

One of my friends said, "I thought he came with you. How comes he is
leaving now?"

"I didn't bring him and he's not interested in me."

"What a pity, he's a real hunk! Why isn't he interested in you?"

"He says I'm too young for him."

"Ah, he likes the older ones then?  It's really a pity, I  was tempted
to try to hook him before  you left for such a long time.  I thought you
had gone to fuck."

"I'd have liked to,  but we just chatted out on the street."

"And it took almost two hours for him to tell you that you aren't his
type? You don't get me swallowing it. I think you went some place to
have a quickie."

I would have settled for a quickie, it would have been better than
nothing at all.

What effect does it have on me to now know that Matteo is gay?  Well...
it gave me some hope, even though he insists on saying that there should
be nothing between us.  I could be wrong,  but I'm rather sure that,
even if he is not deeply in love with me, he somehow feels something for
me.  He even said " I'm fond of you"  but his eyes revealed more than
that.

I told myself   "Let these next three  months pass, even the vacation
time. Then I'll go to see him".   No, I don't let him go just because of
his principles, even if they were right, they would have no more meaning
once I'm not one of his students.  If it happens that I'm wrong, if he
really is not in love with me, who should care less!  Still, I don't
believe him.

During these last three months I studied Matteo. Not to make him feel
ill at ease, I behaved as if nothing had happened.  The more I observed
him, the more I was persuaded that his eyes betrayed something.  They
were just light feelings. I don't think I'm interpreting the fact just
because I am in love with him but his blue eyes are more transparent
than his words.

It is hard not to confide in Leo, but I promised Matteo that I wouldn't
and I believe it only fair.  Stefano was never able to keep a secret.
Telling him would not guarantee secrecy.

After the school leaving tests and before receiving our results we all
(including Matteo) went to a pizzeria. When the results were published I
saw that I was only one of  three that  got a full pass of 60/60 and
honours!  The others were Leo and  a girl from  3B.

I got the certificate from the school, went to do a photocopy, then I
wrote on it, "This is the gift I wanted to give you to thank you for
everything, and to remember you that mine is no infatuation. I wanted to
get this result, and I got it, just for you." I put the copy in an
envelope and sent it to him, registered priority mail. At first I
thought I'd give it to him by hand, but I thought this was a better way.

Now, I am on vacations with my folks. They are happy.  It has been three
years since I didn't go back to the village with them.  Staying at home
gives me the chance to rest and spend all of my time reading and
thinking of Matteo.  I'm not in searching for adventures anymore.  I'm
doing projects about my future, and I daydream. I offered to give Dad a
hand repairing our country house and to pick the fruits for Mum to make
her pots of jam.

Mum told me, "When we are back home, would you take some jam to
professor Cordero?"

"Sure Mum,  I'll bring him some of your delicious jam. Don't doubt it".

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

Matteo

I had nearly finished preparing to leave for my vacation, when the
postman rang the doorbell. There was a registers priority letter. I
opened it. There was a photocopy of Marco's Diploma Certificate with the
score (60/60 and honours!) surrounded with a red felt pen circle and at
its side the words, "This is the gift I wanted to give you, saying thank
you for everything, and to remind you that mine is no infatuation
(underlined). I wanted to get to this (with an arrow pointing to the
score) result, and I got it, just for you (underlined three times)."

I felt moved, deeply touched.  I felt a strong desire to call him, but I
didn't. Then I thought I could write to him and started four or five
times, but each time I threw it away and in the end I just gave up. What
could I write him? Nothing more than I had already told him on that
evening at the disco, about three months ago. Should I possibly write
him "I too love you.  Come.  I'm waiting for you with my hearth on my
sleeve. I want you"!   However, I felt it was not right.

And yet, he is in love with me and I with him.   He is no more one of my
students. In December he will be twenty years old.  He's  not a kid any
more. He seems to me so beautiful that he takes my breath away. He is
likeable, intelligent, good-hearted, honest. Why don't you surrender
Matteo? Aren't you just being stubborn?

I left for my vacations. This year I had decided to visit Campania,
alone. Between Rome and Naples I stopped to pick up a hitchhiker. He was
a likeable Danish boy. He loves Italy and it's art.  He spoke fairly
good Italian. He was nineteen and his name was Arne.  He also wanted to
tour Campania, so I proposed that we do it together. He accepted and
asked me to choose accommodation that was not too expensive. I told him
not to worry, as I also had little money to spend. He asked me what  job
I did, and I told him I am a novice teacher. I had to explain to him
that a novice teacher was not a teacher of Friars. He said he was
attending something like our Fine Arts Academy.

In Naples I had the address of a cheap hostel and we asked for a twin
bedroom. We undressed, went to bed and switched off the light. There was
nothing more than a small night table separating us.

He said, "I looked at you while we were undressing. You are nicely
built."

I didn't answer.

"Does it bother you that I looked?"

"No." I answered thinking that he was nicely put together too, but
didn't tell him.

"I... am gay. So now you know, but I won't bother you."

"I'm gay too."

"I hoped so, but I was not sure. I've a boyfriend, do you have one?"

"No I don't. Why didn't your boyfriend come along with you?"

"He is in the army, he couldn't come."

"It's a pity."

"Yes and no. At times it is good being well away from each other It is
good to have an adventure but when the time comes to go back home, you
rediscover the pleasure of being with your lover again."

"You could discover that there is someone better and find that you are
no more interested in him."

"It's difficult. I already know that there are people better than him.
It's the same for him, but we fit together like a hand in a glove. We
have been together for four years now."

"Is he the same age as you?"

"No, he's twenty-six.  Besides the army job he is also an athletics
coach. He was my coach.  Now we are waiting for him to become an officer
so he can live outside of the barracks where we can be together. We will
possibly also marry."

"Then, when you started your relationship, you were fifteen and he was
twenty-two, and he was your coach"?

"Right. We fell for each other in the first few months but he was
extremely correct in his approach, up until the day I told him I was in
love with him.  We made love in the equipments depot, on the high jump
mattress."

"Was it your first time?"

"No, I had discovered sex two years before that but he was my first
adult man. Before meeting him I just did it with mates of my age, boys
who were about seventeen or so.  I never fell in love before meeting
him."

I proceeded  to tell him about Marco and me. He listened in silence,
interrupting  a few times to ask some questions.

Then he said,  "If Kaj, my man, behaved like you, he would have denied
me four years of happiness.  If you love him, why don't you want to make
him happy? This Marco seems to be a good boy, according what you told
me. Write to him tomorrow, at least a postcard, and tell him you are
thinking of him."

"I don't know..."

"You have to! I think he deserves it.  It's stupid suffering for so
long, both of you, don't you agree? It's obvious that Marco respects you
a great deal. I wouldn't have allowed you to say  no to me.  I would
have fought, struggled like mad to get the one I love. I would have
fought for someone like you. I always fought to get what I need. One
should never surrender."

I didn't answer. For some time he kept silent, then I heard him leave
his bed and in the half-darkness I saw him standing near my bed, his
briefs swollen and full.

He pulled off my sheet and caressed my bare chest.

"It we have to spend these days together, I would like to make love to
you. I like you."

I again didn't answer. He bent down and kissed my chest, while his hand
slipped downwards. When he felt me shudder, he stepped out of his briefs
and slid into bed with me. We made love and I must say I really enjoyed
it.

After our climaxes, he started caressing me, and he said, "Do you see
what I mean by my saying that I fight to get what I want?  That boy has
to do the same with you."

"You didn't need to fight, it seems."

"No, not this time. I like how you make love. On your school trip he
should have  came to your  room and make love to you. I would have done
so.  While you were making love, you thought of him, didn't you? Am I
wrong?"

"No. For fleeting moments I did think of him, but how can you tell?"

"At times your eyes were smiling, but not looking at me.  You were miles
away.  I know you were looking at where your heart is, because I know
that my eyes look into the distance when I'm thinking of my Kaj."

"Yes, I was thinking of my Marco."

"Then, tell him. He will be happy. Don't you want to make him happy? He
became the best student of the school for you. Don't you want to do
anything for him?"

The following day I sent him a postcard with the shortest of messages,
"Thinking of you. Matteo."  While I was posting it I was feeling an
overwhelming emotion. I felt as if I was sending him a declaration of
love.  Arne sent a postcard to his man too.

We toured Campania far and wide and made love almost every night. During
the day he talked to me about his Kaj, and I talked to him about Marco.

I sent two enjoyable, very agreeable weeks.

Then, when he had to go back home, I saw him off at Rome airport and we
exchanged our addresses.

Just before passing the customs, he told me, "When you to write me, I
want you to you tell me that you are with Marco.  Ask him too to sign
too. Alright?"

"Will you tell Kaj about me?"

"I tell Kaj everything.  When I write to you, he will write his
greetings as well, but I think he will write them in Danish or possibly
in English. Goodbye, now."

"See you again, Arne, I hope. I will let you know. Have a good flight
and thank you for your dazzling company."

"Thank you too.  Listen to me, talk with Marco."

"If he still wants of me, after my so many 'no's."

"I say he still wants you. Best wishes and bye."

All through the journey back home, I though of Marco. What did I need to
do? Calling him? Write to him? Wait for him to turn up? I sent him two
postcards with just the words "Thinking of you" because I didn't want
him to be embarrassed in front of his parents. Would he understand, that
behind these simple words there was written a lot more?

A few days after I was back home, the usual school routine started
again. Preliminary meetings, September tests and the beginning of the
lessons. I didn't call or write to Marco possibly  because when I came
back, there was no messages in the mail from him.

Now that Marco was no longer in the class, the school was not the same
for me. I go on feeling pleasure with my classes, and of course, with my
students. I taught them with my usual devotion, but I missed the joy of
entering the classroom and seeing Marco's green eyes, filled with love.
Love for me.

It was mid-October and my door-bell rang. I went to open the door and it
was Marco!

"Am I disturbing you? I should possibly have called before coming, but I
was passing nearby and... I went to the University to take the
matriculation forms and..."

"Come in, come in, I'm really glad to see you."

"I  have to present my studies project.  I thought that you could
possibly give me your advice, if you have time."

"Sure, come in."

"Are you well?"

"Fine, and you?"

"Fine too. Thank you for the postcards. I was really pleased. I am sorry
I didn't write to you."

"Yes, you did. I've received your photocopy... It was a nice gift."

We both were feeling somewhat tense, perhaps even embarrassed.

"May I offer you a drink?" I sought to lessen the tension and put him at
his ease.

"A coffee?" he asked with a shy smile.

"Good. I'll have one too. Come into the kitchen while I prepare it."

"You have a nice place here."

"I've  tidied it up a little, but I would like to change a few more
things."

"It's bright, with all the walls in white."

"Yes, but at times I feel somewhat lonely."

"Do you miss your mother?"

"At first it was difficult. Now I miss... um... company."

"I see."

Silence.

I kept repeating to myself in silence "Tell him you love him", but I
wasn't  able. He  just looked out of the window.

When the coffee was ready, I asked him, "How much sugar?"

"A small spoon, thank you."

"How is the coffee?"

"Good... fine. Nobody ever comes here?"

"A few friends just to visit me. Nobody special. Nobody who... who
counts, I mean."

Silence again.

Then, while I was putting the empty cups in the sink, he asked, "Would
you show me the rest of your home?"

"Yes, come and I'll show you. This is a kind of studio and guest-room.
Nobody has slept here yet.  This is my bedroom..."

"I like it. I... I would like to leave my home, to live on my own, but
as long as I study, I can't afford it."

"Yes, I see."

"Matteo?"

"Yes, Marco?"

"Let's go back to the living room..."

"Yes, if you want".

Back in the living room, we started to talk about his studies project.
But my head was filled with a myriad of thoughts. "Tell him you love
him. Tell him you love him" a hidden voice kept repeating. Why wasn't I
able?

"... two test in the Summer session, two in the Autumn  and one in the
Winter. What do you think?"

"Yes, it could be good, but I would prefer to try three in the Summer
and two in Autumn. If you pass them, you will be free to attend the
lessons of the second year, and if you failed one of them, you can try
again in the Winter session."

"I see. You are right. Which of this tests do you think are more
difficult?"

"Possibly this and this" I said pointing to the list's contents.  "If
you go on studying as you did in High school, none of them will really
be difficult for you."

"I see. Did you meet some of my old class mates?"

"No, you are the only one, up to now. Usually, after school is over,
teachers are forgotten."

"I... I can't forget you. Nothing changed for me. Inside me, I mean.
Nothing but the fact that before I could see you almost every day.
Now... I miss you."

"I miss you too. Very much.  As I enter  the classroom... I still look
for you, do you realise that?"

"Really?"

"Really. That's why I am very glad you came."

"May I come again, then?"

"Any time."

"I was a little afraid coming here, today.  You told me it was better we
didn't meet again. I was afraid I'd try your patience"

"I think...  I think I changed my mind. You are no longer one of my
students. In a while you will start going to university, and..."

"I'm no longer one of your students "  Marco repeated in a low voice.

I stretched out my hand and rested it on his, in a kind of shy caress.

I told him, "Do you understand what I am trying to tell you?"

"Possibly... but... I wouldn't be wrong.  It seems that at one point in
time I ... um, failed to understand what you were saying to me."

"Marco, I love you."

His beautiful green eyes had a short dart, then veiled as if he was
about to cry, then he smiled and in a hushed, almost  trembling tone,
said, "I too love you, Matteo. I came here to tell you that, but didn't
dare. 'Thinking of you', you wrote  in your two postcards. I couldn't
help but think of you too.   Matteo,  I need you, I need your love and
to give you my love. Matteo what keeps us apart now?"

"Nothing more, you are right."

"Am I too young for you?"

"I don't care about age. Just eight years separate us..."

"And they would seem less and less..."

We stood and we embraced tightly.  Finally our bodies felt for each
other, searched for each other, filled with emotion and pleasure. Then
our mouths met and we united in a long, tender kiss.

I felt his erection awakening, pushing, brushing against mine.

"I was afraid... I thought that this day would never come..." he
whispered.

"I made you suffer, Marco."

"Yes, but now all is over, it's all ended.  It was worth it, because I
now know for certain that mine was not just infatuation as you once
said."

"I know, I always knew it. An infatuation would not have lasted for
almost three years. It might have been like that in the beginning I
think, but then... you can't imagine the joy I am feeling having finally
surrendered to our love..."

"Did you say 'Do you think I can't imagine'?  I would say I can, because
I feel the joy in me and because you are making me feel it with all our
body."

I then seized his hand and guided him to my bed. We undressed each
other, as if in slow motion.  We made love, each lost in the discovery
of the other. God, how beautiful Marco is.  What beauty his body holds,
how beautiful his soul. Yes, our souls too because it was our souls that
made love too.

"Matteo?"

"Yes, love?"

"Do you know that this is the first time in my life that sexual
intercourse has meant more than just a fuck.  Was it love for you too?"

"Yes, my love."

"Do you know that each fibre of my body, each atom of my soul is loving
you?"

"Yes, love."

"Do you know that I never want to part from you?"

"Even if our bodies will be miles far away, we will never be separated
Marco. Do you believe me?"

"Yes.  I believe that"

It was difficult to leave the bed and dress again, to say goodbye, and
see him leave We agreed we would meet again the following afternoon.

He called me that same evening. "My folk can hear me, so don't be afraid
if I say weird things, but... I love you!"

"I too love you, Marco and I already miss you."

"What are you saying... will you dream of me, tonight?"

"I hope so."

"I'm so happy.  I wish I was able to tell it to everybody, to put
posters all around the city..."

"Posters... possibly it is better that you don't. But if you feel like
telling your friends... no problem with me."

"Leo and Tony?"

"Tony is Leo's boyfriend, isn't he?  Of course you can."

"Well, no. I want to give them a surprise. We will talk about it
tomorrow. Of course it's alright. We can go to see if we find those
books together tomorrow afternoon..."

"Are your parents nearby?" I asked, amused.

"Correct."

"So then it will be better we say goodbye, now. Plenty of kisses, my
love."

"The same.  See you tomorrow."

"Bye, my love. See you tomorrow. I love you."

"Thanks, the same to you. Bye."

I hung up the receiver and felt as light as a feather. I felt an
enormous urge to dance, to sing, to have him still in my arms.

Yes, I had been right not to surrender to my sentiments as long as he
was my student, but afterwards I had been more than right to stop
refusing him. I thought of Arne and started to write him the letter I
had promised him, and that I would end the day after with Marco.  This
would give him all the good news he was waiting for.  One in which he
had played no small part.

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CONTINUES IN CHAPTER 7

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In my home page I've put some more of my stories. If someone wants to
read them, the URL is

http://andrejkoymasky.com

If you want to send me feed-back, or desire to help revising my English
translations, so that I can put on-line more of my  stories in English
please e-mail at

andrej@andrejkoymasky.com

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