The List

By: Jonothan Wolf
(© 2012 by the author)

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

Chapter 18
Chase

Specimen's Name: Chase

Height: 6'1''

Build: Perfect

Occupation: Student (Sophomore, Swimmer)

Age: 19

Dimension: 7''

My brother came by campus the next morning, picked me up, and drove us home. I had gotten barely any sleep and it showed. He said I looked rough the moment I got in the car. I thought about telling him about my fight with Spencer, but decided that what had gone down was my own private shame. I couldn't bring myself to confess that I'd lost my boyfriend and my best friend in one fell swoop.

I spent the rest of my winter break walking through the motions. I caught my good friend Cody up to speed on everything that had happened to me this term, including the list.

"I can't believe you've gotten yourself into such a pickle after one semester away," he said over Corner Coffee the day before I was supposed to leave for the city. I had told him that I was nervous about moving back in with Spencer in 24 hours and having to deal with things the way I'd left them.

"It's going to be the most awkward thing when I see him tomorrow," I replied, dreading the inevitable.

Cody put up the awkward turtle sign-- his right hand on top of his left, flapping his thumbs around as the `turtle' swam-- and it made me laugh. But it didn't make me shed the anxiety I was feeling.

My dad helped me load up my car on Sunday morning, and my mom kissed me on the forehead. After being away for almost a month, I was heading back to the city and right back into the lion's den.

The pit in my stomach didn't feel that different than what it had felt like five months ago when I was driving to SMU the first time, consumed with thoughts about what Spencer would be like and nervous to really get to know him. I was nervous all over again, and my thoughts were taken up exclusively by Spencer. I didn't want our relationship to have to change, but in my heart of hearts, I knew that it already had.

I hauled my things up the elevator in one trip. I would have done anything to avoid another walk across the street to the parking garage-- including risking pulling my back. To my surprise, not a lot of freshmen were moving back in when I got to campus. I guess the majority of people had either come in on Saturday to get a night of partying in before classes started, or were planning on getting in on Monday or Tuesday as the first two days of classes were almost always deemed optional.

Realizing this, I almost felt relief. Maybe Spencer would be back tomorrow and I'd have another day to process my anxiety. The relief was short lived. As soon as I opened the door to my dorm room, I was greeted by a dripping wet Spencer, toweling off and staring at me.

"You're here," I said, kicking the door closed behind me and setting my duffle bag down.

"I am here," he said, with a sour twist fit for a dry martini. "I live here."

I tried to get a read on him as he slipped into a pair of red gym shorts and sat down on his bed, legs stretched in front of him, turning the pages slowly in a magazine. The tension in the room was so thick it would have required a guillotine to cut it. I took to unpacking and tried to ignore it.

When I got to the bottom of my suitcase, I pulled out a gift that my mom was adamant I take to Spencer. I had told her that the whiskey had been from him, not in the mood to explain who Riley was, and even though I tried to protest, she packed a small package for me to give to him. I had no idea what she'd gotten, but I figured it was a book or one of the framed Peruna calendars or something.

"What is this?" he asked, as I handed it to him.

"Something from my mom," I said. "She was going to send it, but I told her that ya'll did Christmas in Aspen, so she told me to just bring it to you."

"Do you know what it is?" he asked. I didn't want to confess that I had no clue what it was, so I just shrugged and went back to putting my folded clothes away.

I heard Spencer peel the paper back. "Wow."

I turned around. He was holding a steal 8X10 picture frame. He looked up from the frame to me and I wondered what was inside that had made him gasp. He turned it to me and inside the frame was a picture of Spencer and me from the first party we'd been to on campus together. He had his arm around me and I was holding a red solo cup and smiling wide. It was the first picture I'd tagged of myself in college and my mom must have pulled it from Facebook and had it printed and framed.

I was moved when I saw the picture. To think that Spencer's friendship had come to mean so much to me in the past half a year. The picture in the frame was a sore reminder of what I was about to lose.

"Spence," I began to say.

"Listen, I was out of line the other night. Not that I didn't mean everything I said to you, because I did. But you're my friend, Cooper, and my roommate, and I can't change either of those things, so I'm sorry I yelled at you. And I hope that we can move forward," he said. Very mature, I thought. My turn.

"You really don't need to say that. I was a huge jerk to you on New Years'. I messed up and I was an idiot to think that mine and Kyle's relationship doesn't affect you, and he's lucky he has a pal like you to have his back," I replied. "I know what it feels like."

"You really had nothing to do with this picture?" he said, getting up and scanning the room for a place to put it.

"Nothing at all," I replied. "My mom is a sneaky one."

"You Carpenters are a wily people," he said, smiling at me. He stood a foot away from me and outstretched his arms. "Roomie."

"Roomie," I replied and gave him a hug. One relationship repaired. One to go. "What do you say to dinner tonight? Drinks on me?"

"Actually," he said, sitting back down. "I'm having dinner with Kyle and Dutch, so."

"Yeah. No, of course you are," I said, trying to sound casual. His tone was unmistakable. My presence wasn't just unwelcome, it would probably have been met with fire and daggers.

"We're just going to Chipotle, so. I can bring you back something," he said, trying to sound cordial. Just because Spencer and I had cleared our air didn't mean that the custody battle was over. Kyle and I would have to figure out how we were going to divide Spence between us. I got the house. Kyle got Sunday dinner.

"No, don't worry about it," I said. "I'll grab something on campus. No worries."

"You sure?" I was sure.

One suitcase, one duffle, and one hour later, Spencer went to dinner with his old pals, leaving me to fend for myself. When he left, it became painfully obvious that I didn't have very many friends I could just call and hang out with. I guess I could have called David, but it seemed awkward to just ring him up out of the blue. I'd screwed everything up with Riley, so that was a no. I didn't really talk to the guys on the hall that much because I'd spent so much time with Kyle or Spencer, I hadn't bothered to make other friends.

Instead of staying in and moping, I went to the library and looked up all of the books that I'd need for my second semester classes: Global Politics, Microeconomics, College Mathematics for non-majors, The Classic American Novel, and for good measure, Broadway Basics: American History Through Theater.

A good chunk of the books my classes required were held in reserve at the library, so I wouldn't bother to purchase them unless checking them out became a huge problem. For the rest, I walked over to the U and rummaged for used, cheaper copies.

"Is this going to be all?" the guy at the register asked me. I nodded, handed him my swipe card and charged the 342 dollars worth of bucks to my student account, grateful that I hadn't splurged on Dylan's gift like I'd planned to. The guy handed me what felt like thirty pounds of books with a smile, as if all of the studying I was about to embark on was anything to smile about.

I walked out of the U and decided to get something to eat. My first craving was Chick-Fil-a, until I realized it was Sunday and they were closed. I cursed their stupid rule and decided to stop at the Sonic inside the U instead.

I ordered a hamburger, tots, and a lemon-lime slush and sat down, trying not to feel lame for eating alone.

"Mind if I join?" I heard from above me. A guy was standing there holding a tray and looking at me. I had just taken a bite of burger, so speaking was out of the question. I mumbled something, nodded and kicked out the chair for him. I swallowed hard and tried my best not to be embarrassed by my stuffed face. "Sorry, I didn't mean to surprise you, I just saw you sitting alone and thought I'd join you."

The guy was tall and slim but not skinny, about 6' and 180 pounds. He had short dark hair and very smooth looking skin. His eyes were brown under a pair of square framed glasses that were both studious and trendy. He kind of reminded me of Adam Scott. Geek chic.

"Great," I said, smiling. "I am officially an alone eating loser."

"I take offense to that," he said. "I'm usually the one eating alone. Every Sunday during my break from work study at the U."

I nodded my head. That's where I'd just seen him.

"I was just in there," I said, pointing down to my bags.

"I know. You're the one that bought every single book for McArthur's Politics class even though he never actually assigns the reading," he commented. I'd just spent a hundred bucks on those books, he'd better assign a reading, I thought.

"You could have told me that, you know," I said. "Do you always follow pathetic alone eaters out of the U, or what?"

"No, no," he replied. This time he was blushing. "Purely coincidental."

"Sure," I grinned casually. "Well this is what eating with someone feels like, in case you'd forgotten." I said casually. He smiled at me.

The rest of dinner was pleasant. I found out a lot about Sebastian. He was a sophomore Government major, work/study at the U. For most of the week, he worked as an assistant to the buyer and planner, but on Sundays, when things were a little bit busier, he got extra hours stocking shelves or working the checkout line.

He was also a dorm counselor, which surprised me. He didn't fit the bill for dorm counselor at all. Most DC's were nerdy, skinny and pimply. They were the kind of guys who got way too excited for team building exercises and watching V for Vendetta on November 5th. They were never cute.

When I was done eating, I realized I hadn't thought about Kyle and Spencer once since Sebastian had stopped by. I smiled at him as I said I'd see him later and then decided to do something bold.

"Do you have any dinner plans for next Sunday?" I asked him, holding my U tray and ready to bolt if he rejected me. I hadn't done anything like this sober since I'd hooked up with David a while back. I flashed him my best smile and waited for the answer.

"Well, um, yeah, kind of," he said. My heart sank and I thought about the smoothest mad dash I could make for an exit. "There's a cool dude that I met today. I'll probably be eating dinner with him, so. You should meet him; he's great for a frosh."

I smiled at him, said I'd see him later and left the U. As I walked home, I thought about what had just transpired. This was why I couldn't lock myself in with Kyle. This was the reason I was so nervous about being with him and breaking his heart down the line. There were guys like Sebastian out there who were bound to get in my head... and stay there while I walked home across the quad.

When I got to the room, Spencer was gone, but I knew he'd been back. A bag of Chipotle chips were perched on top of our fridge and his boots had been swapped out for his running shoes. I didn't have any work to do and no movie sounded appealing, so I resolved to do what I'd been dreading for two weeks now.

In the bottom of my suitcase was a box that had a navy blue Ralph Lauren once-worn suit, tailored to fit me like a glove, and it needed to be returned. I wanted to go ahead and get it over with sooner rather than later because as much as Kyle wanted to move on, I needed to as well.

I got the box, along with a pair of sunglasses that Kyle had left in our room once, and the toothbrush and hair comb he'd brought over after our first full night together and put them in a sack.

I walked across the quad, each step getting heavier and heavier. The air was still cold, but not unbearable for a January. Still, I was sweating under my thermal and puffer vest. When I got to his building, I hesitated at the door. I hesitated again at the elevator and then a third time as I rounded the corner to his hallway.

When I finally got to his door, I thought about what a huge mistake I was making. A week ago, Kyle had seen a naked guy walk out of my bathroom and had been less than amused. What made me think he was ready to see me at this point? Should I go back home and wait for him to make first contact? The box felt like a time bomb in my hands and I just wanted to drop it and run.

I knocked, a boulder sized pit developing in the bottom of my throat. I swallowed hard in an attempt to clear it. The door opened and Mark stood there.

"Hi, Cooper," he said, barely opening the door. I wondered if Mark ever left their room. "Kyle isn't here."

"Kyle isn't here?" I asked. "Okay, well, do you know where he is?"

"Nope," he said, shaking his head. Why wasn't he opening the door?

"Do you know when he'll back?"

"No idea."

"Okay, well I, um, brought this for Kyle and I really wanted to give it back to him, so if you could tell him I stopped by," I said. Mark turned his head and looked behind him. I could have sworn I heard a whisper before he looked back at me.

"Okay, I'll tell him."

"And, Mark," I said, putting my hand up to the door. I had a feeling Kyle was inside. "Tell Kyle he has to see me sometime."

"Ok," Mark replied, trying to close the door.

"And tell him I know I did a terrible thing and I just want the chance to make things right, face-to-face."

"Uh," Mark hesitated. "Listen, I really don't want to be in the middle of this. I'm gonna take a walk."

He opened the door all the way and I saw Kyle sitting on his bed, reading a magazine. Mark pushed past me and walked down the hall towards the study area and vending machines.

I stepped into the room.

"I'm not here," Kyle said, refusing to look up at me.

"You're sitting right there, Kyle," I said.

"No. For you, I'm not here," he replied.

"I'm sorry," I said, unable to think of anything else. It sounded cheap and lame and I knew it. But I was. I wasn't sorry that I'd broken up with him, I was sorry that I'd hurt him. And no matter how many times I said it, I would never be able to take that hurt away.

"Where's your rent-a-date? If you really need someone to talk to," he said, tartly.

I decided to just say it. Get everything off my chest and then leave. He could do with it what he wanted after the fact, but I owed it to him to push through, say my peace and then let him digest it.

"Listen," I said, stepping in and shutting the door. "This isn't easy for me. You forget that two people broke up."

"Oh please," Kyle interrupted, looking up at me for the first time. Statue face was back.

"You think you're the only one in this relationship?"

"What relationship, Coop? You made it abundantly clear that we don't have one."

"You forced me to do it. You said with your words, you said, that I should end it now, sooner not later. That's what I did," I realized my voice was faltering and that I had raised it. I didn't come here for a shouting match, but apparently bottling everything up all break just meant it was coming out now.

"No one forced you to do anything, sir. You just think because everyone is fawning over you, that because you have all of these options, that you'll never have to face your feelings and make a decision-"

"That's absurd, Kyle," I said. He continued shouting over me.

"-like adults do, Cooper."

"I was so ready to make that decision a long time ago," I said, looking him square in the eye.

"Gimme a break," he replied, returning to his magazine.

"I wanted to date you, Kyle, not marry you. I can't answer an ultimatum like that right now. I can't accept, here, this 600 dollar gift from you right now." He took the box and shrugged his shoulders. "It's too much. What do you want from me?"

"You," he said, point blank. After a pause, he continued. "You owe me nothing, Cooper. I just... I blew it the first time, I admit to that. I blew it and I thought by quitting the Sigma thing I could make it right. And then you shut the door, Coop. With no hope, you closed the door and... and I wasn't ready for that."

"Kyle, you're asking me to make a decision I'm not ready to make," I said. "I love you, I really, really do. The best I know how. But you're right to think that we might not work out. Somewhere down the line. I wanted to make that journey and take that chance, but you said you couldn't do it."

Kyle was silent. He knew that I had made a valid point. I liked dating Kyle. Who knew what would happen in the future? Maybe we'd make it, maybe we wouldn't. I was willing to take the risk and find out, but that risk was too much for him.

"Well, I can't return that suit. It's already altered, so you may as well keep it," he said quietly, lowering his head and turning an unread page.

"Kyle," I began to say.

"Listen, Cooper, I can't do this with you right now. Take the suit, burn it, throw it away, keep it, whatever. We're done, I'm getting that. Give me a chance to get that, okay?"

He looked up at me and I involuntarily felt unbelievably attracted to him. I was making a mistake and it was as plain as day. I should have been there to make love to the guy I loved and instead, I was driving the final nail into the coffin that was our relationship. Without saying anything, I turned, opened the door and left, still holding the suit I'd intended to return.

When I got back to my room, I faceplanted on my bed and actually cried until I fell asleep.

The next morning, I went to syllabus day for my first three classes, all of which met back to back from 11 to 2. Not having planned for this, when I got out of class at two, I was so hungry, I could feel my stomach munching on its own lining. I bee-lined to the U, which was closer than the dining hall, and finally fulfilled my craving for Chick-Fil-A. As I was eating a classic chicken sandwich and reading over my syllabi, I remembered something Sebastian had said the day before. I pulled out the course manual for McArthur's class and noted that he hadn't mentioned any reading assignments. I smiled.

Sebastian, for whatever reason, was still on my mind as I walked home for the day. It was strange to me. He wasn't the cutest guy I'd ever seen. He was actually quite different than the obviously handsome men I'd been attracting lately. But there was an undeniable attraction there. One I needed to satiate. This is what a rebound felt like.

Without thinking, I packed up the books from my Global Politics class and walked back to the U. I figured that I should return the merchandise if the professor wasn't going to make me use it. And in the slim chance that Sebastian worked Mondays, I'd get the chance to see him.

The line from the checkout counter at the student store reminded me of the time my brother and I had tried to buy last minute tickets to a Mavs/Spurs game. Everyone standing there was holding hundreds of dollars worth of merchandise. I almost thought about turning around. I didn't want to stand in this mosh pit for an hour just to see some guy that might not even be working.

Things moved at a surprisingly steady pace. 15 minutes and a hundred mind-changes later, I got close enough to see the counter. Sebastian was one of three people furiously wringing students up at the checkout.

When it was my turn to approach the cash registers, I got the `who's next?' nod from the person in the middle. I turned, let the person behind me go in front, and pretended to count through my books. I fished out my receipt and waited for Sebastian to be free, determined to make this exchange breezy and flirty.

"I need to return these, please," I said. I gave him my best smile.

"I need to see your drop form," he said to me. There was no charm or flirtation to his voice. This was strictly business.

"Um," I stammered. "I don't have a drop form."

"Sorry, Cooper, I can't let you return those without a drop form. Who's next?" he called around me.

"Wait, wait, wait," I said. This is not how this was supposed to go. I turned and saw the girl behind me stop approaching. "What do you mean there's nothing you can do? You're the one that said..."

"All I said is that McArthur doesn't assign readings," he said. "I never said you could return the books. I'm really sorry, man."

And then, as if this wasn't humiliating enough, a very pretty girl with long straight blonde hair walked from the right corner of the store straight to the counter. In the past 24 hours since I'd developed the seedlings of a crush for this guy, I felt the firm hand of rejection smack me across the face. Twice.

"Hey babe," the pretty girl said, kissing Sebastian on the cheek. I watched in paralyzed disappointment. Sebastian looked at me like he was wondering why I was still standing there? Even after he'd clearly said I couldn't return the books.

"Hey babe," he said. He kissed her back. "I get off in like fifteen, so if you want to go ahead and eat, that's fine."

"No, no," she said quickly. "I'll wait for you and we'll drive to the srat house. I want to show you the dress I bought for the semi-formal."

"Okay, well I gotta check these people out. I'll call you when I get off here," he said to her. Another quick kiss. Another puncture to the heart. He turned to me. "Were you going to buy anything, man?"

I mumbled something under my breath, picked up my books and left. The girl behind me in the line looked like she could have killed me for inconveniencing her so terribly. Bite me bitch, I thought.

As I walked home, utterly rejected, I thought to myself that of course Sebastian had a girlfriend. And of course she was a cute, rich, sorostitute. Why wouldn't he be dating a modelesque Theta Zeta or Kappa or KD or wherever the bottle-blondes were pledging these days? He was a catch. And he was caught.

I was still obsessing over what had just happened when I got back to the room and Spencer asked if I wanted to go to a swim team party with him that night.

"On a Monday? What?" I asked, lying down on my bed. I couldn't tell Spencer about my humiliation. I wasn't sure when we'd be able to just chit chat about guys again, but now wasn't the time.

"We start the second half of the season tomorrow morning," he explained. "Which means we all go dry."

"The entire swim team isn't going to be drinking for the rest of the season? Someone better alert the liquor store on Preston."

"I know. And it means tonight is my last chance to drunkenly convince Chase to hook up with me," he said.

"I thought you were crushing on Ian?"

"Been there done that with Ian. And to be honest, his moody-go-lucky take on being gay is really tiresome."

Shows how much I had missed. A month ago, Spencer was still pining over his teammate that wouldn't let him do anything more than suck him off. Spencer was jonesing to make out, spoon, and most importantly fuck, but the guy was evidently too scared to go there. I agreed to go to the party. I wanted to drown my most recent humiliation as quickly as possible.

Then I had the thought that would consume my thoughts for the rest of my relationship with Spencer.

"Is Kyle coming?" I asked. It had to be said. I didn't want to put Spencer in that awkward position of having to choose, but there wasn't room for both of us to go. If Kyle had already RSVPed, I'd decline respectfully.

"He said maybe," Spencer said. He added quickly: "Listen, ya'll are going to have to see each other sometime, you know? It's gonna to be a big party with lots of people. It won't be awkward."

Easy for him to say, I thought. All I could think about was just how awkward it promised to be. Kyle wasn't ready to move on at all, and I was only barely there. Seeing each other had the potential to reignite feelings or spark a clash that could be humiliating for all parties involved.

I shrugged and agreed to go, anyway. I had offered an olive branch, so what did I have to lose by going?

Spencer and I ordered a pizza for dinner and sat in catching up. He told me all about his trysts in Aspen. Apparently a really cute guy that worked at a resort not far from his family's cabin was game for a few make-out sessions. He said the guy was a great kisser, but was apprehensive about going further. I started to wonder if it was the guys Spencer was with that were apprehensive, or if it was my roommate who was holding out for something more with someone special.

Still, sex was on the brain as we ate slices of pepperoni and chased them with Bud Light and limes.

"It's just I like Ian," Spencer said when he'd been sufficiently sauced. "I do. He's really cute. But the guy is so scared to peak his toe out of the closet. As if he's going to burst into flames when he comes out, or something."

"So you're switching this focus to Chase?"

"I mean, there's definitely something there with Chase, there always has been. He flirts with me, compliments me. I dunno. I've always thought Chase was cute; you know that. But I've just had my head so far up Ian's ass. I'm letting it go. I'm letting Ian go. Chase is the pooh."

"Please don't call anyone you want to have sex with `the pooh'."

"Noted. Letting go," he added.

He physically shook his hands off and `let Ian go.' I knew better than to believe it was that easy. My roommate was hung up on Ian and he was planning to use Chase as a Riley-chute to catch the fall. I wished him all the luck in the world and proposed another whiskey shot.

"This whiskey is amazing," Spencer remarked at some point. "Where'd you get this?"

"It was a Christmas gift," I said, trying not to sound sour about the thought of Riley and his present. "Drink to your heart's content."

By the time we hailed a cab to Backstroke, a swimming house east of campus, Spencer and I were more than just a little tipsy. I made a mental note to take it a little easier once I got to the party, but one look around and that proved to be impossible.

The swimmers who got there before us were all in their speedos and onesies already. There were two buckets of grain that I was assured were made with real Everclear and not cheap vodka. Floating atop each bucket were a couple of turkey basters and people were taking turkey baster shots like they were candy.

The minute we walked in, the upperclassmen pulled Spencer aside and made him strip down to his speedo. Even though I see Spencer naked on a daily basis, I'm always completely mesmerized when his body is on display. My roommate was hot, by any sense of the word, and standing there shaking out his curly blonde hair, it reminded me of why I was so taken away by him at the start of this whole thing.

"What does a guy have to pay to get eye fucked like that?" I heard whispered in my ear behind me. I turned around to see a tall, barely dressed swimmer with smooth soft skin and a boyish face that contrasted his ridiculously jacked body.

I thought about denying my obvious staredown, but decided to just embrace it. I'd gotten busted fair and square and if I couldn't turn this into a flirtation, I was an idiot.

"You caught me," I said, coyly. "But I doubt you can afford it."

He smiled at me. "We'll see," he said, handing me one end of a dripping turkey baster. I took it, cheered with him and sucked down the shot. "I like your technique," he said and I smiled at him again.

I decided the night was way too young to put all of my eggs in one genetically gifted basket, and so I started mingling the party, meeting swimmers of all shapes and sizes and working my way around. It was painfully obvious that everyone at the party who was dressed in real clothes was only there to ogle the swimmers. I felt average and paunchy by proxy of not being undressed.

"I feel awkward!" I shouted to a junior free swimmer over the music right outside the dance room. He had asked me why I wasn't inside dancing. "The girls are all over the swimmers and I'm just here."

Truth be told, there was only a handful of guys at the party who weren't on the swim team. I guess being around all of these guys dressed down in glorified dental floss was the perfect rouse to keep other men away. A normal guy didn't stand a chance at this party.

Without warning, Stan, the junior I was talking to, lifted my shirt, inspected my stomach and told me to follow him.

He led me upstairs to a quiet bedroom. I wondered what exactly he was doing until he turned around and handed me a red and white speedo. "Here."

I gave him a crooked smile and cocked my eyebrow. "Excuse me?"

"You want to fit in at the party? Wear this."

"I'm not putting on a speedo," I protested. "I'm not on the team!"

"Listen, buddy, you have abs-olutely nothing to be ashamed of, trust me," he said, smiling. The joke wasn't lost on me. I took the speedo, stripped quickly and pulled it over me, all with Stan watching. "Now you have no reason to feel awkward."

We went back downstairs and as soon as we rounded the corner, I ran smack-dab into Kyle and Spencer. I stopped in my tracks. Stan turned and asked: "Are you coming?"

"I'll be there in a second," I said. He walked into the abyss of the dance floor and I faced this makeshift firing squad. "Hello!" I said, trying to sound nonchalant, but just coming off a little drunk and a lot naked.

"You look good," Spencer said.

"Thank you. I'm trying to fit in," I replied. My eyes were on Kyle, waiting for him to say something.

"Well, if anyone asks, tell them you swim the free sprints," Spencer suggested. "Your body is built more like a sprinter." He paused, looked around and then ducked out without saying anything else. Judas.

"I'm gonna get a drink," Kyle said, turning around.

"Me too," I replied quickly, joining him in step. We walked to the bar silently and I poured a cranberry and vodka after Kyle. He added a little sweet and sour to his and I poured a splash of Sprite into mine.

Standing there with him, I realized that this was going to be my life. A series of awkward encounters with Kyle, Spencer sometimes there to buffer, but mostly he would just flake away. I had to embrace this. We weren't getting back together, but there was no reason we couldn't be friends.

"Well this is kind of a meat market, no?" I asked, trying to make conversation. Kyle just stood there fingering his drink to mix it.

"Yeah. And what are you going for? Prized pig?" Harsh, but it could have been worse.

"Just trying to enjoy myself," I replied, taking a short sip. I didn't want it to sound like I was telling him to try it, but I knew how it sounded. "Have you seen anything you like?"

Kyle glared at me. "I'm not the rebound type, Cooper." The words dug deep, if only because I knew what he was referring to. First New Years, the Beta, and now this. I knew how it looked walking downstairs with Stan, and although nothing had happened, it wasn't worth denying it. I would just live with my shame and guilt silently and let Kyle and Spencer think what they wanted. As soon as he said it, Kyle's phone went off and he handed me his drink so he could check his text.

I shouldn't have done it, but I did. Who wouldn't? I snuck a peak at the screen of his phone and saw the name Rusty flash at the top of the screen. Being taller than Kyle, he didn't realize I could see clearly over his shoulder, and so when he clicked `open' I kept my eyes peeled onto the message.

To Kyle: It's about time. I'll see you tonight.

He closed his phone and put it in his pocket. He cleared his throat, turned to me and motioned for his drink.

"Wow," I said, tartly. "Not the rebound type, but old habits certainly die hard, don't they?" I knew it was an incredibly twatty thing to say, but he could have moved on with anyone. Why the hell did he have to pick Rusty? Seriously? For good measure, as I walked away, I added, "Tell Rusty I said hello."

I would have given anything to see Kyle's face as I left. It was bitchy, I know, but it felt good.

The rest of the party quickly spiraled downward. As was my custom up until that point, I mended my frustration with Kyle by hitting the grain bucket and hitting it really hard. At the bucket, I met two guys from the team I didn't bother exchanging names with.

"Let's do dunkaroos!" one shouted when I said I wanted to get drunk and I didn't care how. A minute later, I was face down in a bucket of ice water, determined to outlast the guy to my right. I could hear a group of people shouting and cheering above me. The goal was to stay in the ice water for as long as possible and then chug a shot of whiskey. I looked at the guy next to me out of the corner of my eye and knew I had him beat. A second later, he shot up; everyone yelled "Dunkaroo!" and the guy took a shot. The count continued another five seconds, and I followed suit.

It was really weird how easily the guys on the team embraced me. They knew I wasn't one of them, but I must have been raising their stock by being cute and fun at the party. And I was told more than once by pretty girls that I filled a speedo well. On more than one occasion, I considered taking a Swim Fan up on her offer.

"Having fun?" Spencer asked me just after 1 a.m. I beamed at him and hugged him. He looked just as drunk as me, and there was a tall guy behind him, lingering awkwardly. It wasn't Ian and I didn't recognize him, so I figured Spencer was either making headway with Chase or had given up completely and moved on to someone completely different.

"I'm having a blast. I'm glad I came. I love spending time with you, Spence, and I want you to know you don't have to choose," I slurred. "You never have to choose. Ever."

"I'm not choosing shit, bitch," he replied. He hugged me, said something about striking out with Chase and going home. As he walked away, I asked him where Kyle was.

"It's none of your business, dude," he said. And he was right. It wasn't. But knowing that didn't satiate my curiosity.

I decided to make a last fruit loop before I called a cab and headed back. If I couldn't find anyone to hook up with, I'd meander back to campus and waste the night with a tepid jack off. I had plenty of visual stimulation to guide me, though, so it wasn't a big deal. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't looking for Stan, though.

Instead I ran into the guy who'd caught me giving Spencer a staredown at the beginning of the night.

"Well, someone changed his stripes," he slurred when I sashayed next to him. He looked me up and down, his gaze slowing just a little when he got to my midsection.

"I'm full of surprises, man," I replied, smiling at him. I didn't feel bad drooling over him because he'd just drowned me in his own. I wasn't coy about flirting this time around. It was getting late and all this boy skin was making me horny. Plus, if Kyle could fuck Rusty, I could fuck a stranger.

"Really? Care to share?"

"You'll have to see for yourself, Dr. Suess," I said, grinning at his rhyme.

"I will screw you in a box, I will screw you like a fox," he said with a smile. His teeth were perfectly straight to match a classically handsome face. It was absurd how symmetrical his entire body was. His eyes were dark blue, almost grey, and his hair was short, brown and curly. "Let's go to a more quiet locale."

"Sam I am," I smiled, taking his lead.

I followed him up the stairs to a room identical to the one Stan had dragged me to. It was at that point in the night where flirting, dropping hints, and making small talk weren't necessary. The party had dwindled and only stragglers determined to hook up were still hanging around.

As soon as we got to the bedroom, the guy closed the door, turned around and kissed me. It was like he'd been planning it the entire walk upstairs, and it didn't disappoint. I didn't care that I barely knew the guy or that I didn't even know his name. I figured I could hook up with him tonight and then ask Spencer all about him tomorrow.

In the darkness of the room, he led me backwards to the bed, moaning into my mouth the entire time. My hands furiously roved his body, soaking in every concrete inch of his physique.

He was a couple inches taller than me and his body was rock solid. I wondered if muscle floated better than fat, but decided to focus on the tonguing my face was getting. He was, up to that point, the best kisser I'd ever had. His tongue was long and danced masterfully all around my mouth. It was like he was determined to taste every single one of my taste buds before he was done, and I was more than willing to oblige him.

He leaned me casually onto the bed and ground our speedo clad cocks together. I could feel his dick poking out of the top of his spandex shorts and knew he was already spewing precum like none other. I was drunk, but it didn't take a BAC under the legal limit to know that this guy was hot for me and I was burning up for him.

The more into it we got, the more passionate his kiss became. He kissed me hard and every two or three seconds, he'd lift his whole face away from mine and dive back in. It was almost like he was mimicking the butterfly stroke with just his face. I found it interesting. Definitely of note when I got his name and added him to the list.

Before I could say `Michael Phelps', he was up on his knees, grinning down at me and peeling off his swim suit. His seven inch loch ness monster sprang up immediately and hit him on the stomach. I thought it was cool, so I pulled it down and watched it spring up again.

"You like that?" he asked, flicking his dick up and down for me. Another dive into my face and we were grinding again. This time, I used my free hand to slowly caress his rock hard dick. It was impossibly hard and the feel of it in my touch was making my own dick strain inside my lycra shorts.

"If you keep doing that, I'm gonna spew right here," he said, coming up for air. Seriously? I thought. I guess marathon sessions with Kyle and Riley had spoiled me. I took my hand off his dick and brought it to his face, his cue to move from my lips to my neck.

Ten minutes and two hickies later, this Ian Thorpe look alike turned me around and started nibbling the back of my neck while he pulled my shorts down and ground into my ass.

I bucked backwards to alert him that I was ready anytime he was. Is body was so long and tight, feeling it on top of me was incredibly sexy. This was the kind of rebound sex that rebound sex was made of. Kyle could have his Sigma. I had a swimmer.

"I'm ready for you, man," I panted, turning my head. He smiled down at me and kissed me softly. He sprang off the bed and returned a second later with a condom, slipped it on, and like everything else he was good at, he dove right in.

What this fucker lacked in actual skill and technique, he made up for in sheer fucking speed. It was like he was competing for most pumps per second or something, and boy was he winning. The result of his hyperactive fucking was almost constant pressure on my prostate. I barely moved as he jackhammered me into the mattress.

Six minutes and what felt like 600 cock thrusts later, I felt his little `thorpedo' expand inside of me. He took one final plunge all the way into my ass and held himself over me for a minute. His dick pulsed stroke after stroke of his cum into the little reservoir tip, expanding my ass something great as it did. I wasn't quite there yet when he came, but he was more than eager to help out when I turned around and starting stroking myself.

"Yeah, dude," he said in a semi-Californian surfer boy way. "Gimme that seed." He tugged at my balls with his fingers and held his hands close to my pelvis. I lurched up, felt my toes curl and my body tense up and a second later, his face got the Cooper treatment.

I sighed, lying backwards and taking deep breaths. He brought his face up to mine and kissed me softly, letting me taste myself on his lips. It was kind of weird, but I tried not to think about it.

What I did think about was Kyle. Lying next to this god of a body, running my hands over his torso as we dozed off, I couldn't get the image of him running back to Rusty out of my mind. And I'd been made to feel guilty for moving on. He needed to give me a break, and he needed to give it to me now.

"That was pretty hot," the Sexy Swimmer cooed in my ear. I was still mindlessly fondling his abs when he broke the silence.

"Hell yeah," I panted. He had the kind of body I wouldn't mind revisiting.

"I need you not to tell any of the swimmers you know that I speak fag occasionally, cool?"

Great, I thought. Another closet case on the swim team. What was it with these guys? I mean, I guess subliminally, seeing the world's finest naked bodies on a daily basis would do that to a person, but seriously?

"Yeah, of course," I replied, analyzing his sentence. Did his discretion imply he wasn't keen on a rinse and repeat? I was already looking forward to a second helping before I'd even gotten the digits.

"Say, um... what's your name?" he asked, trying not to make it sound awkward. I'm glad he crossed that line and I didn't have to. I told him. "Spencer's roommate, Cooper?"

"Yeah, that's me," I said, wondering what Spencer had told his teammates about me. The guy whose name I still didn't know let out a chuckle.

"Well you definitely can't tell about this, okay?" he replied. I wondered why he was warning me about blabbing off to Spencer.

I asked him what his name was. He was a fool if he thought I wasn't at least going to try to get the skinny on him from my roommate. He should have done his investigation before he slept with me.

"Chase Pallendrino," he replied. As soon as he said it, I actually prayed silently that there were two Chases on the swim team. As if our relationship wasn't fragile enough, I had just hooked up with Spencer's semester long crush.

Damn.

To be continued...

Posted: 01/27/12