Bryce
The Second Semester
Chapter 1 - Getting Started
Bryce and Damon arrived back on the campus of the University of Clifton in the early afternoon of Tuesday, January 5, for their second semester of college. They had enjoyed a wonderful Christmas at the home of Bryce’s family in Lincoln, Nebraska, where everyone except Bryce’s elder brother accepted him as a gay person, and Damon as his boyfriend. The fact that his sister Nan showed up with a boyfriend of her own, one of the football players she had so assiduously watched at Thanksgiving, also served to take the spotlight off Bryce and Damon, at least some of the time.
Bryce was pleased and relieved to find his golden Mustang still safe in the long-term parking at the airport, and joyfully ferried his boyfriend and himself back to campus. The friends were still living in the same rooms in Clay Hall they had before the holidays. Their reason for returning earlier than strictly necessary was to participate in the planning meeting at their fraternity that evening. There was a Welcome Back Dance scheduled for the University Center on Friday, sponsored by the Student Government Association, and Sigma Alpha Tau fraternity usually held a party afterwards, beginning around 9:30. This was part of the effort to get students to actually show up for the first two days of classes on Thursday and Friday, much appreciated by the University administration.
As they returned to their rooms, both Bryce and Damon found disturbing flyers pushed under their doors. These broadsheets seemed to represent different factions of the GLBT Club on campus, who were taking pot-shots at each other. As neither Bryce nor Damon had been active in that organization, they were confused about the various accusations and counter-accusations, some expressed in intemperate language. Talking it over, however, they decided to at least sign up for membership. It was not that they wished to be involved in the controversy, whatever that was about. Rather, having come to accept his homosexuality, Bryce felt it appropriate to give public recognition to that fact by at least paying dues as a member of the organization. Damon was more than willing to go along, as he felt the need for acceptance even more strongly than did Bryce. Whatever its internal problems, the GLBT Club gave those seeking acceptance a place of refuge on campus.
After making this decision, and unpacking, the two freshmen walked over to the Sigma Alpha Tau house where they encountered Curtis Manning, the Pledge Master who had helped them navigate the dangerous waters of initiation last semester.
“Hey, guys! Glad to see you here. A lot of the guys don’t show up this early, and we need help in organizing the party on Friday,” Curtis greeted them, indicating they would be put to work right away.
“That’s why we’re here,” Bryce replied. “Actually, it’s still Christmas as far as I’m concerned, so this is a real sacrifice on my part coming in so early.”
“What do you mean, it’s still Christmas? It’s already January fifth,” Curtis replied.
“Well, in my family we celebrate the twelve days of Christmas. You know, the song that starts ‘On the first day of Christmas ...’ and so on. Contrary to the advertising and merchandising, the twelve days of Christmas start on the evening of December 24 and run through January 6, which is the traditional Feast of the Epiphany, also called Little Christmas, or Twelfthnight. It’s only tomorrow that my family will take down the Christmas decorations,” Bryce explained. Then, seeing no support from Curtis, he added, “And personally, I would have liked a few more days of uncomplicated leisure.”
“I’m glad your leisure was uncomplicated,” Curtis returned, avoiding any discussion about when Christmas began or ended.
“And yours wasn’t?” Bryce asked, knowing something of Curtis’ personal situation.
“It was good, but definitely not uncomplicated, at least at the beginning. Maddy’s folks tried to contact her and get her to come back to their place for Christmas. She refused to talk on the phone. Maddy said she wanted an admission that they were wrong to reject her brother Bobby and were responsible for his death, and she wanted it in writing.”
“Boy! She sure knows where she stands. How did the parents react to that?” Bryce wanted to know.
“Not too well. They said they were sorry for Bobby’s suicide, but they were not going to admit responsibility. That was not good enough for Maddy. Then her father said Bobby was the responsible one because he engaged in degenerate behavior. At that point, Maddy refused any further contact. This was all done by e-mail, as Maddy had refused to speak with her parents over the phone. All that certainly complicated the first few days of the break, but then we had a ball at my place. My folks were great. They seemed to know just what to do to break Maddy out of her doldrums whenever she got to thinking about Bobby. And, of course, on the personal level, there was ...”
“Don’t tell me,” Bryce interrupted. “Remember, I’m gay. I don’t need to know about your sex life.”
“Pervert,” Curtis joked.
“Breeder,” Bryce responded.
“Breeder? What’s that?” Curtis asked.
With a grin, Bryce enlightened him. “I discovered that term in a story on the Internet. It’s a term used by some gay people for those of you who keep the species going - in other words, heterosexuals.”
“Well, we haven’t done any breeding yet, but we talked about it, and we kind of practiced the ‘how to’ part ...”
“Once again, I don’t need to know the details,” Bryce again interrupted.
“I’m curious,” Curtis insisted. “Are you really turned off by accounts of straight sex?”
“No,” Bryce gave a serious answer. “Mostly I’m pulling your leg, and I’m just doing a little preemptive work in case you straight guys start complaining about any PDA between me and Damon.”
Curtis chuckled. “I haven’t seen anything to complain about yet. Are you guys planning to make out in the lobby?”
“No, but you never know what might happen,” Bryce grinned.
“Enough! Now I’m the one getting too much information,” Curtis complained, shoving Bryce playfully. “Right now, I’ve got to make a supply run to the market to stock up on beer before the meeting tonight. Since Sigma Alpha Tau only pledges new members in the fall semester, unlike some of our less discriminating rivals, my role as Pledge Master is reduced to errand boy in the spring. You guys will be here for the meeting at the usual time this evening, right?”
“Right,” Bryce confirmed.
“You, too, Damon? You’ve been unusually quiet,” Curtis said.
“I’ve just been contemplating that PDA Bryce mentioned. Kind of surprised me. Usually I’m the one to hang loose, and he’s all stuffy,” Damon said.
“Stuffy!” Bryce exclaimed. “Well, I like that!”
“Thought you would.” his partner grinned.
“Let’s get out of here. I think I’m losing the battle with both you guys,” Bryce said.
“Nice to see you recognize when you’re bested,” Damon replied, taking Bryce’s hand.
Bryce automatically jumped back.
“See, that’s what happens when this guy comes into contact with reality. He’s great at theory, but when he comes face to face with a little PDA, you see his reaction,” Damon complained.
Curtis was laughing too heartily to reply, while Bryce scowled at Damon, then also broke out in chuckles.
“Okay, you win,” Bryce said, grabbing Damon’s hand back, and heading towards the door.
As they approached the entrance, the door opened, and DuBois Kennedy, Damon’s mentor last semester, came in. He gave the two a hard look. “You two taken to acting out?” he asked.
Embarrassed, they dropped their hands. “Uh, no. I mean ...,” Damon began lamely.
“They were just being as idiotic as usual,” Curtis came to the rescue.
“Oh, well, if it’s just the usual idiocy, I guess that’s all right then,” DuBois said with a grin, and punched Damon on the shoulder.
“See you this evening,” Damon replied, also grinning.
“Let’s walk over to the union and see what gems await us in our post office boxes,” Bryce suggested.
The building which was officially named the Albert Benjamin Chandler University Center was frequently called the union by students, much to the annoyance of the administration, who seemed to think this represented some kind of take over. Something to do with Oxford, which no one bothered to check out. In the post office section of the building, the guys found their boxes stuffed with notices from the administration telling them things they already knew, and more contentious correspondence from the various factions of the GLBT. Evidently someone had put their names on a mailing list, knowing they were at least supportive of gay issues.
Damon also found a belated Christmas card from one of his sisters, which was the only communication from any of his family since Christmas Day. He had called home, at the suggestion of Bryce’s mother, his hostess in Nebraska, and attempted to speak with his family, but his mother was insulting (“You think you’re better than the rest of us, but you’re nothing but a rotten queer.”), probably being high on something, and his brother was threatening (“You show your fucking face around here and I’ll fix you so you can’t screw any more boys.”). He did not attempt to talk to his sisters after that, but at least one of them, Vanessa, thought enough of him to send a card. He’d have to write her and express his appreciation.
Leaving the post office section, with the vague idea of finding out what all the controversy in the GLBT Club was about, they wandered to the area where the various student organizations had offices, usually meaning a desk in a large room with many other organizations unless they were a particularly favored group. It was in such a situation that Bryce and Mike Sandoval had found the GLBT representative last semester. This time, there was again a young man seated behind the desk designated as the GLBT office.
“Hi, we were wondering ...,” Bryce began.
“Active or passive?” the student interrupted.
“What?”
“Active or passive?” he repeated.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bryce said. “All I want to know is how to join the club.”
“I was asking whether you were in favor of taking active steps to further our cause, or were willing to just sit back and allow others to hand us our rights on a silver platter,” the student angrily explained.
“Um, all I want right now is membership, and so does my boyfriend here,” Bryce insisted, indicating Damon. “We don’t have any idea what all the controversy is about, so we’ll wait until we know more to make up our minds.”
The young man eyed them, then with something like disgust, replied, “I guess that means passive. Here,” he said, shoving forms at them.
Bryce picked up two copies and with Damon retreated to an empty desk, where they filled out the forms, asking for name, campus address, and sexual orientation, and asking for dues of five dollars each. Bryce wrote a check for ten dollars. Damon had given up protesting when Bryce paid for him, so nothing was said about that. Just as they were ready to return the forms with the check, another student walked up to the desk. The student who was there glared at the newcomer, and did not look as though he was going to say anything or move. However, at that moment an older man in a suit walked into the room.
“Brought the Gestapo with you, I see,” the first student said bitterly.
“No, I ...,” the second began.
“Shove it!” the first said, getting up and stomping away.
Bryce and Damon looked at each other, still wondering what all this was about. The man in the suit, who Bryce thought was the Vice-President for Student Affairs, just looked over the room and left, obviously not interested in the altercations going on at the GLBT desk. Bryce and Damon approached.
“Are you the GLBT representative?” Damon asked.
“I have the desk for the next two hours,” the student said. “Can I help you?”
“We just came by to join, but there seems to be something going on we don’t know about,” Bryce said.
“Okay. I’ll take those membership forms. Oh, and your check, too. I’m Larry Guthrie, by the way.” Larry extended his hand, which both Bryce and Damon shook, introducing themselves. “As to what’s going on, I wish I didn’t know. Maybe it would be best to just listen for a while and make up your own mind. We do provide some services, in case you ever just need someone to talk with,” he added, handing them each a brochure about the club.
“Thanks. We’re good for now, but who knows? If we need you, we know where to go,” Bryce said, as he and Damon took their leave.
By this time, it was late enough to think about eating. Of course, as teenagers just about any time was good for eating as far as both Bryce and Damon were concerned. Still, the evening was rapidly approaching. After a little consultation, they walked a short distance off campus to their favorite small restaurant for dinner. There, they were pleased to be recognized by the waitress, who seemed always to be there. The place served decent meals, with generous servings, at a reasonable price. Besides, the guys were not prepared for cafeteria food on their first evening back. The transition from what they had been used to during the holidays would be too much of a trauma for their insides to accept. They enjoyed their meal, and, despite several very personal comments passed from one to the other, without any public display of affection. They had the evening after the fraternity meeting for that.
By 7:30 the meeting room at the Sigma Alpha Tau house contained a skeleton representation of the brothers, so Tom Blankenship, the fraternity president, began by thanking those brothers who were present, especially those who had come from a distance, for being there. Then they got down to the business of planning the Welcome Back party after the dance at the union on Friday. It would be unusual, in that the party sponsored by the SAT would begin just as the Welcome Back dance, sponsored by the student government, was beginning to wind down. True, the dance was advertised as lasting from seven to question mark, but by eleven most students would be wandering off to other venues. Sigma Alpha Tau wanted them to come to the fraternity house. It was safer than some alternatives, and non-members would have to pay, which would defray the costs for the members. SAT had a reputation for putting on desirable parties, so they had to keep up that standard. Therefore, the plan was to be open for business from about 9:30 on, and to really rev up the partying around eleven.
At one point, Curtis mischievously asked whether Bryce and Damon intended to engage in any public displays of affection. Unexpectedly, Bryce took the comment seriously.
“At the last party last semester, Damon and I danced together. You notice we played it safe and waited until after you guys had voted on accepting us.” There were a few chuckles at that. “But, seriously, will there be any problem if we repeat that this time?”
That engendered some serious discussion. Bryce and Damon were pleased that there were no overt displays of homophobia, but some of the brothers were clearly uneasy with such public activities. They did not want the fraternity, or themselves personally, to get a reputation as a gay thing on campus, fearing it would torpedo both the house and themselves with the general student population. There was much discussion about just how the general student population felt about gays and lesbians. No one really knew, of course, but there was much recounting of individual experiences, pro and con.
DuBois Kennedy asked, “What was the general reaction when you guys first admitted blacks to the fraternity?”
None of the present brothers had been around at that time, of course, but the fraternity Historian, Jack Datillo, ran to the fraternity office and collected the records from the earlier days of the fraternity. There was a summary history of important events at the fraternity compiled by each Historian at the conclusion of his term of office. Consulting these summaries, Jack reported to the brothers that the first black member had been admitted in 1956, earlier than he had initially expected. The Historian at the time wrote, “To the surprise of those who opposed this move, the general student population seemed to think we had done something noble, and I guess we did, even if hesitantly and reluctantly on the part of many of the members.”
When Jack read this passage to the brothers, there was a brief moment of silence, as the precedent sank in. Then DuBois spoke, “That makes me even prouder of SAT than before, guys. So, let’s uphold the SAT tradition. Let’s make certain Bryce and Damon, and anyone else, are welcome here as completely equal brothers.”
At that, Tom Blankenship ruled that Bryce and Damon were permitted to dance together at any SAT function, but added with a grin, “but that does not mean they can cut in on my girl.” That brought a round of laughter, accompanied by scattered applause. Tom added that, “Just as we expect any brother to keep his amorous activities within limits, so also this goes for you guys,” indicating Bryce and Damon. “If you get too horny to control yourselves, we have rooms upstairs. Keep private things private.” That brought raucous laughter from the brothers, causing Bryce to turn a deep red. Even Damon showed that blacks were perfectly capable of blushing, given the right stimulus. It just did not show as much. The really great thing was that both guys knew their fraternity brothers were just having fun with them, there was no mean intent. That’s what acceptance meant, being treated like everyone else, rather than having the others walk around as though on egg shells, afraid to say anything.
This hurdle having been passed, the brothers returned to more mundane matters, such as how much beer to stock, and what music to have on the sound system. As there were no pledges to do all the work at the party, and as they did not know who else would be present, those present at the meeting agreed to take turns with the hosting duties at the party, and Curtis was given the task of keeping track of any brothers who showed up for the party, but who were not there at that meeting. They would be assigned clean-up duty. All that having been decided, Tom reminded the brothers that the first soccer match with a rival fraternity was scheduled for Saturday afternoon. “Hangovers are no excuse for failure to show up,” he admonished the brothers. Then the fraternity business meeting came to an end.
As the brothers were dispersing, Damon and DuBois asked Jack to see those old records about the admission of the first black brother. He accompanied them back to the office, where the minutes of fraternity meetings were stored, reaching back for over a century. In addition to the summary from which Jack quoted, they wanted to see the actual minutes when the votes were taken on accepting a black pledge, then a black brother. Once they were settled, Jack returned to the large assembly room, where Bryce was talking to Keith Hamilton, his mentor last semester.
“Well, did you get the budding historians settled?” Keith asked Jack.
“They seem satisfied for the moment. But they might be a while,” he warned Bryce. “I hope you didn’t put off supper or anything.”
“No way,” Bryce assured him, sipping his beer. “I’m in no hurry to get back to the dorm room, especially as Tom said there were rooms here for private activities.”
That caught both Keith and Jack off guard. Then Jack punched Bryce. “Idiot! That’s only for parties.”
“You mean you wouldn’t make your room available for me and Damon?’ Bryce kidded, sticking out his lower lip like a small child.
“Oh, well, if you’re that desperate, go right ahead,” Jack said, this time catching Bryce unprepared.
Recovering, Bryce grinned. “You win. But I might take you up on that one day.”
“Idiot. Say, are you going to be showing up us seniors again this semester?”
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Bryce insisted.
“Like hell you don’t. Here I am a senior, planning to graduate in May, and along comes this lowly freshman and outshines me in my own major all last term,” Jack complained, although with a touch of admiration in his voice.
“I just got lucky,” Bryce said, a little embarrassed by the implied praise. “After all, I’ve been interested in Early Modern Britain for years, and had boned up on Dr. Dickinson’s previous writings on the subject.”
“And I’m a poor colonial,” Jack added, as his major interest was in American history. “Still, Bryce, it was an impressive display. I’m in the Hanoverian class this term. Got to learn how the enemy sees things, I guess. You?”
“Oh, sure. I guess I’ll stick to Dr. Dickinson as long as possible. And we don’t get to the American Revolution until well after midterm. Glad to know there’ll be a friendly face when I get to class,” Bryce replied.
“Don’t expect me to be too friendly. Remember, I’m still going to kick your ass when the Revolution does take place.”
“With the help of France,” Bryce reminded him.
“We’ll do it again in 1812, and without any help. Same old George III. Some people never learn,” Jack teased.
“By 1812 George III was declared incompetent ....” Bryce began.
“He was incompetent from the outset,” Jack interrupted.
This historical display was ended when Damon reappeared. “Come on,” he insisted, taking Bryce by the arm, “I want to experience some of this display of affection you keep talking about, even if it’s not public.”
Bryce blushed again, while Jack and Keith laughed as Damon carried him off to their dorm room.
Thanks to Colin for editing.
Constructive comments are welcome on my e-mail at pertinax.carrus@gmail.com.
And please check out www.midnightdude.com.