Date: Sun, 4 Jul 2004 08:40:31 -0700 (PDT)
From: reid <fear1980@yahoo.com>
Subject: Blue Sky 10-11 [gay/interracial]

BLUE  SKY
by reid

  - PART TWO -
    The Backstory...

        -10-

	Minimum wage sucked.

	My consolation was that I got paid just a bit more than that.

	Working at G.I. Joes wasn't exactly sitting behind a desk for the governor,
but it was reasonably okay and non-pathetic. At least that's what I told
myself. I needed to not feel too depressed about my place in life or else I'd
do something rash. Like not cataloging my sales and getting fired for it.
Definitely not good.

	It also beat having to work at Taco Bell. I had decent hours, decent pay -
enough to afford my own place, finally, and the people I worked with were
cool, too. Our franchise was in a rather nice part of Culver City, too. Nice
places in Culver City were definitely rare and hard to come by.

	It wasn't a career, however.

	Sometimes I felt kind of pathetic, working retail at age 22, but it did beat
living on the street. It beat living with my parents, too. I didn't count the
groceries that my mom insisted on dropping off as taking away from my
independence. She didn't pay my other bills so, really, I _was_ financially
stable on my own. That feeling was worth the hardship of dealing with people
that thought it was funny to ridicule people that worked at America's #1
outdoor recreational store..

	Pathetic moments of which I had more than my share.

	My dad was a typical military man, born of order and shouting, with little
more to his name than the medals he fought for in Desert Storm. He and I
didn't get along, to say the least, but in my own obscene way, I tried my
hardest to respect him. His opinion of me didn't mean shit run over twice,
but I guess I needed to find some sort of way to see him as a man, rather
than a father. As a father, he was something less than ideal.

	On the flip side, my mom wasn't too bad. She and I got along fairly well but
my own desire (need) to be on my own often clashed with her motherly
instincts. Where my dad was the yeller, my mom was the softer, more sensible
parent. When my dad would ground me for whatever rule I'd broken, my mom
would gently undermine his authority and adjust the punishment.

	Sometimes I wished that she would just yell back at him. But she never did.

	We'd moved to Los Angeles when I was eight years old. I'd been born at
Ramstein Air Force base in Germany, lived in fourteen states before the age
of eight, and had to endure a constant series of good-byes with whatever
friends I'd make. Hitting Los Angeles had been everything I needed from life
and, luckily for once, my father pulled some strings and there we stayed. He
worked at the Space and Missile Systems Center and we were actually allowed
to put down roots for once.

	Our shared love of California didn't make us any closer. That was the sad
part.

	So there I was. Alienated from my father, pulling away from my mother, and
working retail in Culver City. I was pretty sure that lesser people drank
poisoned Kool Aid for cushier conditions than mine. All I had to pin my hopes
on was my purported talent at writing and the possibility of love in the
future. The far future, I'd begun to wager.

	"You should come with me, Shawn."

	It was Kylie, the most agreeable of my co-workers. Actually, I really liked
her. As cliched as it was, she was probably the closest thing to a "fag hag"
that I'd ever allow. Normally, girls and I didn't really gel with one
another. Kylie was different that way. She didn't expect me to be some sort
of gay trophy that she could squawk to her friends about. She just liked me
for the person that I was. I appreciated that.

	"Why would I want to do that?" I muttered, folding what seemed like the
hundredth golf shirt of the day.

	"Because - it would be fun." She said, her voice getting exasperated.

	"Fun for you or me?"

	"Fun for you."

	I scoffed a bit, "How do you figure?"

	She hesitated, "A friend of mine is going to be there."

	"Kylie," I groaned, "I don't need you trying to play matchmaker."

	"I'm not, Shawn. I just think you'd like him."

	"Well - what's he like?"

	"He's just a nice guy. He's smart and funny, too."

	"Yeah," I was interested, "Is he hot?"

	She paused, "Yes. He's quite attractive."

	I finished folding my pile of shirts. Buying myself a few seconds to think,
I bent down and folded the cardboard box. I really wanted to believe Kylie
and meet this guy she thought I would like. I also knew that she and I had
differing opinions on what constituted "compatibility." Trusting her just
offhand didn't seem like a wise move.

	"What's this guy's name?" I asked as nonchalantly as possible.

	"Teddy."

	I couldn't help but chuckle, "That's a cute name."

	Kyle smiled, "You'd like him, Shawn. I really think you should let me
introduce you."

	"Okay," I sighed, "Say I do agree to come to this little social affair
you're planning. I don't want this 'introduction' to be noticeable. Like I
don't want you to make a production of making us - meet each other."

	She just looked at me.

	"I want it to be natural." I said, sounding perfectly natural to myself.

	Kylie shook her head, "You know what, Sean? You're too neurotic for him, I
think."

	She began to walk away and I had to hurry to keep up with her.

	"'Neurotic'? What is that supposed to mean?"

	"You just channeled every Yiddish spirit in telling me how you want to be
introduced to him. That's the sort of micromanaging that I'm not too excited
about foisting on an innocent person."

	I walked beside her, "Thanks. You get me all excited about this guy and now
you're pulling back. Nice 'Indian Giver' thing you've got going on."

	Kylie stopped, "Listen to me! Teddy is a nice guy and I don't want to open
your cage so you can pounce on him and punish him for your dad's mistakes."

	"OK, that was uncalled for."

	She paused, looking not in the least apologetic, "Shawn - just give it a
chance, okay?"

	We walked on for several seconds until we were in the back of the store; the
consumer pantry. Kylie leaned against one of the many shelves and sighed. I'd
never seen her this personally invested in something involving me. For
whatever odd reason inside my own head, her seriousness told me that maybe,
just maybe, this time was different.

	With a sigh, I pulled off my black work vest and tossed it onto a haphazard
pile. I felt sweat running down my neck. With a rueful smile, I looked up at
the broken air conditioner. I wiped some of the sweat from my forehead and
cheeks, sighing again.

	"You in?" Kylie asked, her voice hesitant.

	"Don't sound so enthused."

	She grimaced, "I'm sorry but I'm worried that you'll do something awful."

	Rather than push the issue, I stopped and rubbed my eyes briskly. In my
mind, I went over all the possible pros and cons of trusting her on this one
issue. As much as I wanted to back out, my own desire for love and affection
somehow seemed to win out. As bad as this Teddy kid could possibly be, my
loneliness and need for something better out of life managed to outweigh the
possibilities. Then I felt a nice kick of shame for thinking in such a
selfish way.

	I groaned and sat down with a thud on one of the boxes. I didn't know
exactly what to say or how to sound appropriately reassuring to her. She had
every reason to worry about me doing something ungracious, to say the least.
This was the girl that had watched me drink ten beers and punch a hole in a
car windshield.

	"I'll be good, Kylie." I said.

	I, myself, was actually sincere for once. What a trip.

	She nodded warily. Without another word, she patted me on the shoulder and
walked to the two huge swinging doors. As soon as she was behind me, my
stomach did a full rotation with a twist. I'd just agreed to something that
was little more than a polished-up blind date. The mere concept hit my mouth
like bitter, bitter herbs.

	I heard Kylie stop as she opened the doors.

	"It's at my place on Saturday. Be there around two."

	I nodded.

	Just as the doors closed, she pushed them open again.

	"You're welcome, by the way."

	Before I could fire back with a smartass remark, the doors swung shut again.
In the hollow silence of the back room, I swore to myself. I pulled on my
nicer T-shirt and grabbed my backpack, dreading my return home. I also
dreaded having to walk across the sun-scorched parking lot in the hottest
part of the day, but bigger things were on my mind.

	-11-

	My main rave about Southern California was the weather.

	Hot and sunny. My two favorite conditions.

	Even as I drove down the freeway, slowly baking on the cheap vinyl seats of
my cheap car, I was still a little excited. Even if the whole thing was a
blind date, I was ready to give it a shot. Even through my nervousness, I
couldn't help looking forward to the possibility of - someone. It felt weird
to even think that. About myself, no less.

	I loosened my shirt collar as I pulled off the highway and onto the side
street. Immediately, I got blasted with how much of a nicer neighborhood I
was in. My parents lived up the coast at Vandenburg Air Force Base, decent
conditions. Kylie lived in Santa Monica, nice house with a pool. I lived in a
one bedroom, four room dive just off Wilshire in the armpit of the city.

	They all had their own washing machines. The bastards.

	I turned off the busy street and onto a smaller residential drive, my eyes
drawn to all the gated yards and nice, brick houses. I shook my head and felt
my cheeks burn with shame. I was actually ashamed to be driving my crappy car
through this stuck-up neighborhood. With my luck, I'd probably get "stopped"
for looking "seedy" to some "old" "woman."

	To my, disgustingly enough, relief, I saw Kylie's house. It loomed out of
the others like a nice, welcoming beacon. She had really made her place look
less like a rich kid's house and more like a regular dwelling. Several cars
had already been parked out front, one of them uglier than mine! My
Machiavellian side laughed as I pulled the car to a stop against the curb and
stepped out.

	As I walked up the front sidewalk, hearing splashing in the pool, I steeled
myself for the most human of all games: picking out the guy/girl you're being
fixed up with. Nobody was actually in the front yard - but that didn't stop
me from taking a quick look around. I straightened my shirt and fixed my hair
as I stood under the shade in the porch.

	When I extended my hand to ring the doorbell, I noticed my fingers shaking.
With a horrified urgency, I balled my hand into a fist and clenched in
savagely against my side. I hitched in a few breaths and swallowed hard,
holding my hand up again. The shaking had stopped, thankfully. Again, I
reached out and accomplished my feat of ringing the doorbell.

	Kylie opened the door and smiled. If I were straight, I would have probably
popped a rod at the sight of her. For a girl, she did have a pretty nice
body. The only problem was that she had a mouth to match.

	"Hey! Come on in!" She said, practically ushering me in by the arm.

	As we walked through the cool, air conditioned darkness of her house, I
cleared my throat nervously. How the hell was I supposed to reasonably ask
where this Teddy guy was? I couldn't sound too eager and I couldn't sound too
- uneager. I wiped my hands on the seat of my pants and swallowed hard as we
walked out onto the back patio.

	With lightning speed, I did my best to survey the grounds.	All I saw were a
few of the girls from work, the guitar player Kylie was dating, a few other
people from work, and a bunch of ten or eleven year old kids running around
the pool. The weird thing was that none of the kids were making any noise. I
knew that when I was their age, when I got near a pool, I turned into an
annoying little opera singer.

	I followed Kylie down the small stone steps and over to the group of our
co-workers that were in attendance. As usual, we made with the pleasantries
and small talk. It was never something I was good at under the most normal of
circumstances, let alone when I'd been promised an introduction to a
prospective "special friend." But I faked it well enough with the smiling and
generous use of the word "dope."

	Suddenly, Kylie broke us from the conversation and led me towards the pool.
For one insane moment, I wondered if she'd misread what my desires were. The
thought that she would try to fix me up with one of the ten year old-- my
brain cut off the train of thought. Logic took back over and my stomach
descended from my throat. No way was Kylie _that_ screwy.

	She stopped at the edge of the pool just as one of the kids had jumped in.
Executing a classic "cannonball" maneuver, he splashed a fairly heavy and
prominent sheet of water all over me. It wasn't cold, which I was glad for.
Kylie looked at my apologetically and ruffled my shirt gently.

	I was looking down at the shirt, trying to wring it out, when I heard a
voice.

	The voice.

	_His_ voice.

	"Don't worry. It's only water."

	When I looked up at the source of the words, I felt a mix of emotions. It
was like pretty much every conventional thing I'd ever been taught was
colliding against itself. I'd never imagined that every image of one very
certain cultural more would be so effecting in how heavily it would hit me. I
straightened my back and dropped my shirt.

	"Shawn, this is Teddy," Kylie said, "Teddy, this is Shawn."

	He held out his hand and without thinking, I reached out and shook it. The
strength and firmness behind his grip made my heart flutter. The warm,
dampness of his hand and how slick it felt against my palm conjured up many
non-specific erotic images. I smiled and nodded, he did the same.

	When our handshake ended, I took the opportunity to study him. He was
soaked, shirtless, and wearing a baggy pair of fashionably faded jeans. His
upper body was defined but also very sturdy looking, with broad shoulders and
a flat, well-maintained stomach. Nipples the size of nickels and a nice,
tight-looking belly button.

	His skin was like bronzed honey mustard and it glistened in the sun. His
hair was jet black and spiked from the water. When he ran his hand through
his hair, I caught a glimpse of his armpits. I also noticed the way his upper
body musculature flexed with every movement he made.

	His face was nice, too. Full lips and thick eyebrows, very dark brown eyes.
Squarish jaw and nice, white teeth. I studied him in the most materialistic
of ways, only taking survey of his skin-deep qualities. I cleared my throat
again and shifted from foot to foot.

	"Yeah," I said, finding my voice, "I've fallen into pools before."

	Furtively, I glanced to my right and noticed that Kylie had deserted me.
She'd left me alone with Teddy. Apparently to her, I was a big boy. I was
mature enough to handle things myself. I was independent and self-sufficient
to a high-enough degree that I could be trusted to not act like a baboon. At
that moment, I got very scared.

	"Hey," Teddy said, his husky voice so distinctive, "Let me go change and
we'll talk, cool?"

	I nodded and smiled. I worried that I might look rude or somehow dismissive
to Teddy if I didn't say anything - but the words just wouldn't come. Teddy
smiled and turned, wiping more of the water out of his hair. I steadied my
already weak knees and watched as he turned to the kids around the pool.

	His hands moved in a practiced, steady series of gestures - precise in their
intention. He signed to them like a professional and they seemed to
understand exactly what he was saying. Quickly, they followed him up the
sidewalk and into the back of Kylie's house. For several seconds, I stood
there, looking after him.

	Barely noticing that my shirt had dried, I turned and walked back up to the
group from work. Kylie noticed me coming and met me halfway. The look on her
face was eager and expectant. She hurried over to me and grabbed my arm,
linking it with hers as she led me away from the group and onto the patio.

	"So - what do you think?"

	I stammered, "He seems very - cool."

	Her face fell, "What's wrong?"

	"Kylie," My mouth floundered over itself, "Why didn't you tell me he was--"

	She frowned, "What? Tell you he was what?"

	I lowered my voice, even though there was no one around. I think it was more
so I wouldn't have to hear it anymore than I had to.

	"Asian," I muttered, "Why didn't you tell me he was Asian?"

	Kylie looked surprised, "Because I didn't think it would matter."

	I looked around nervously, "It doesn't matter! It's just - you should have
told me."

	"Why should I have told you?" She sounded pissed, "He's a nice guy! Why does
it matter if he's Asian?"

	I suddenly felt like dirt. I wiped my hands on my pants again and sighed,
shrugging my shoulders. Slowly, I sat down on a stone bench and leaned
forward on my knees. I really didn't know how to truly describe how ashamed I
felt all of a sudden. Kylie seemed to understand and sat down next to me.

	"Shawn, for the last six months, you've been bitching about how lonely you
are," Her voice was much softer than usual, "Maybe I _should_ have told you
but it really doesn't matter and you'll see that. He's the nicest guy I know
and if you give him a chance, I think you'll be surprised. Pleasantly."

	I looked at the ground, "I hope so. I mean, I hope I see that."

	"I do have faith in you, Shawn," Kylie stood up and patted me on the back,
"Don't let something so _literally_ shallow get in the way."

	As she walked away, I spoke up.

	"Who are the kids?"

	She stopped, smiling, "He works with them. Teaches them soccer and takes
them places."

	I raised my eyebrows.

	"They're deaf, Shawn. The pool they usually go to was closed and I - invited
him to bring them here."

	I nodded and Kylie walked back to the group by the barbecue, leaving me to
sit there.

	Sit there with my thoughts of shame.

	I rubbed my eyes and stood up, stretching my arms out. Deep down inside, I
knew that Kylie was absolutely right about everything. Teddy was socially
graceful, at least so far, and he was patient and kind enough to work with
children. I didn't want to add "even if he was Asian" in my own mind, but I
couldn't help it.

	Slowly, I walked forward and leaned on the stone railing that circled the
patio. I let my head drop and I inhaled deeply, trying to relax myself. It
was then, at that point, that I realized why Teddy's race affected me so
much: I liked him. I _really_ liked him. He had that "glow" that people have
when you know that the way you like them is special.

	I'd never pictured the guy with the "glow" _not_ being blond and
interchangeable with any teen idol who'd ever graced the cover of Tiger Beat.
Every guy I'd ever pictured myself with had been very "Wonder Bread." They'd
never looked like Teddy. But all of a sudden, his looks were making me weak,
too.

	Suddenly, I heard his voice.

	"Don't jump!" He said, quickly and jokingly.

	I turned around, not quite frantically, and smiled. He had changed into a
pair of black and red basketball shorts, and a blue Adidas windbreaker. For
yet another shameful second, I realized I'd pictured him wearing a Kimono or
some railroad builder outfit. My stomach burned and I winced internally at my
own dickheadedness.

	Then I saw the tattoos. Several letters in Japanese Kanji script running
down the side of his left calf. Thick and black, they stood out against his
brown skin. I swallowed the shameful bile in my throat and spoke up.

	"I like your tattoos."

	He looked down, "Oh thanks."

	As he looked down, he bent his leg and the muscles in his calf flexed. My
knees quivered and I had to take a deep breath. Just seeing him do that
almost made me pass out and break my head open on the patio.

	I corralled my arousal, "Are you tied down or can we - talk?"

	He nodded, "I just had the kids picked up. You want to go for a walk - or
something? We'd be deserting the party but - I don't think it'll die without
us."

	After nodding my consent, I looked around for Kylie but couldn't find her. I
didn't really think she'd mind if we left - but I felt like I owed her that
courtesy, at least. When I felt like I'd met my obligation for searching, I
turned back to Teddy.

	"Sounds good to me!"

	He smiled and we walked through the house. As I walked in front of him, I
caught a trace of his scent on the breeze provided by the air conditioner. It
was a nice, natural, clean scent. Old Spice with a tinge of sweat and a
slight essence of chlorine. Quickly, he stepped out in front of me and held
the front door open. Just that slight chivalry made my knees weak all over
again.

	As I passed through the front door and into the front yard, Teddy gently put
his hand on the small of my back. Guiding me through the door, his touch was
gentle but firm. I didn't know if he was just used to doing that because he
worked with kids - but it appealed to me. I could still feel the pressure
after he removed his hand, the nerves just under my skin tingling with
pleasure.

	I followed him down the front steps and onto the driveway, surveying him
from the back. Even though the baggy fabric of his shorts, I could have
gotten a pretty good read on his ass. I could have stared at the flexing skin
of his calves or the way that the blue fabric of his windbreaker clung to his
broad shoulders. But I didn't look at any of that.

	I was fixated on the back of his neck.

	Teddy was wearing a hemp choker necklace and the clasp at the back glistened
in the sun. I looked at the white fabric under his windbreaker, studying the
contrast between the fabric and his dark skin. I had to fight the urge to
stroke the skin, run half the tip of my finger over the cloth, the other half
on his skin. Oddly enough, he'd probably enjoy it.

	_That_ was new. Knowing that if I acted on one of my tamer desires, it would
be welcomed. There wasn't much threat of getting my ass kicked if I touched
him. Or got caught looking at him. Or, in time, kissed him. Even so, I had a
good six inches on him but that couldn't have mattered in the least.

	As we walked down the posh street, I looked to the sky. Not normally the
praying type, I sighed and asked for a little help. All I needed was just a
little help here.

        - TO BE CONTINUED ... -

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