Chapter 1
It’s amazing how easily one’s life can be turned upside down by something as simple as a phone call. That’s what happened to me one summer morning so very long ago. I was in bed, trying to recover from the crazy party my friends dragged me to the other night when the phone rang. Still half asleep, I fumbled the phone from the bedside table and mumbled, “Hello.”
“Justin, did I wake you?” It was my mother. “Why are you still in bed? It’s nearly noon.”
“I had a busy night. What do you want mom?”
She took a deep breath, as if preparing herself for the next line.
“Peaty’s going to spend the summer with you.”
I sat up, sheets sliding in a bundle to my lap.”
“What did you say?”
“Peaty is going to spend the summer with you,” she repeated.
“Peaty who?”
“Don’t play dumb Justin, we only know one Peaty. Your stepbrother, remember?”
“Yeah I remember but he stopped being my brother 5 years ago when you and his dad split. Are you getting back together or something?”
“No but I’ve kept in touch with Peter since then. He’s such a sweet boy, very sensitive. His father is too hard on him and gives him no understanding. I want you to take him under your wing for the summer and make him feel welcome.”
“But he’s only a kid.”
“He’s nineteen, just a little over a year’s difference. It’s only for three months. He’s starting college down here and needs a place to stay until fall semester. Come on Justin, do this for me. Please.”
I sighed. “Fine. When is he coming?”
“He’s flying in Monday morning, nine o’clock I think so you’ll have to pick me up around six.”
I made an affirmative noise, hung up the phone and fell back down onto my pillow with a sigh. Memories of Peter filled my mind, bringing with them a wave of confusing emotions. Growing up we were as close as any brothers could be. But towards the end of our parents relationship things between us changed. For starters I had come to terms with the fact that I was gay. I had known since the age of fourteen but never told anyone or acted on my impulses. But then when I turned sixteen, something happened inside me and I started seeing Peter in a different way. As our family began falling apart we clung to each other for support. I think that was what pushed me into telling him how I felt.
It was a spur of the moment type confession. We were in our room, trying to ignore the screaming and crying as our parents fought, and I just blurted it out that I was gay and had feelings for him. Weird thing to do I know but it was such a crazy time for me. With all the stress and pressure of school, parents and having to keep who I was a secrete, I couldn’t take it anymore. So I told him. I thought he’d laugh it off or maybe freak out on me. Instead he shocked me by admitting the same feelings for me. Problem was he didn’t know if he was gay or just going through a weird phase. So we tested ourselves and kissed each other full on the lips. It was both awkward, wonderful and for me a huge relief. I’m not sure how Peter felt about it because before anything else could happen his dad barged in, yelling that they were leaving and to get his a** out of here. Peter was so freaked he bolted from the room without saying anything to me. No good-bye or reason why. Just gone.
Now he was coming back into my life, for three months and I had no idea how or what to feel about it. Part of me found the thought of having a roommate to share in sexual adventures with to be very exciting. Though I had come out to a few of my friends there was very little opportunity for me to explore the gay lifestyle. Dating men proved near impossible. Most seemed only to be interested in a one-night flings after which they dropped off the planet. Yet even as I allowed myself to fantasize about such pleasant tings a small, nagging doubt swirled in the back of my mind, dampening my desires. What if Peter wasn’t gay? He was so young when we confessed our feelings. Maybe he was confused and experimenting. What if he didn’t remember the kiss or it didn’t mean anything to him. What if I had to hide who I was from him for the entire three months he stayed?
Such a prospect filled me with dread which quickly turned to horror as it occurred to me he would have to share my bed regardless if he was gay or not. I had no other room for him to stay in and the couch was little more then a loveseat. The thought of sharing a bed with a man I couldn’t have almost made me call my mom and cancel the whole arrangement. Only the fact that by doing so I would open myself up to probing questions as to my reasons why stopped me. I had no choice but hope for the best.
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