Leaving the SAT house, Bryce said to Damon, “Are you really okay with this?”

 

Damon paused on their way to the car.  He looked at Bryce, placed his hand on the other guy’s shoulder, and in a voice broken with emotion said, “Can we talk?”

 

“Absolutely.  Here?”

 

“No.  Some place where we can be private.  Not the dorm, though.  I may need to ... walk around.  Maybe even run around.”

 

Bryce thought for a moment.  “Between here and the church I attended last Sunday there’s a small park.  It didn’t look like there were many people around.  Let’s try that.”

 

“Okay.”

 

So, it was back in the Mustang, and off for a short trip, during which Damon remained silent, seeming to be collecting his thoughts.  They arrived at the park Bryce mentioned.  It was not large - one city block.  Too small for serious joggers or ball players, it still featured a few picnic tables and benches, and a playground for small children.  A couple of adults watched four children at play.  There was a pavilion, and some winding walkways in brick.  On one corner of the square there were tennis courts, two of which were in use.  There was no parking lot, so Bryce parked along the street.  The two emerged, and began to walk.  Bryce decided to wait until Damon was ready to speak, so they covered all the walkways at least once before anything was said.  They reached a section about as far from the other people as possible.  There was a bench alongside the path.  Damon was heard to stifle a sob, then he sat.

 

“I am so grateful for you guys,” he began.  “You don’t know how much it means to me to have you guys stand up for me, even after I came out to you this morning.”

 

“Damon, I told you, you’re my friend.  I was worried you might think we were being too light on Bick.  He deserves to be jailed for what he did to you,” Bryce declared.

 

“Oh, to hell with Bick!  Bick’s not worth worrying about!  I’ve been dealing with scum like Bick all my life.  No, it’s you, and Curtis, and the other guys at the fraternity.  Especially you.”

 

“Me?  I didn’t do anything special.  All I am is the chauffeur,” Bryce kidded.

 

“No.  You said it just a minute ago.  You’re my friend.”  Damon turned towards Bryce.  He placed his hands on Bryce’s two shoulders and looked him directly in the eye.  His voice broke as he admitted, “I’ve never had a real friend before.”

 

Bryce was surprised, and moved.  “Never?  No one?”

 

“No one.  Oh, I’ve had guys I spent some time with.  When I was a kid, there were a few others who played with me.  There were some kids who spoke to me at school.  But no one I could really talk to.  No one who really cared whether I lived or died.”

 

“What about your family?” Bryce asked.

 

“I told you about my family, but I didn’t tell you everything.  My mom is high on crack most of the time.  She supports her habit by selling her ass.  It’s been years since I got a kind word, a touch that wasn’t a slap, any sign of really caring.  You know what she said when I left to come down here?  Do you?  Of course not!  ‘See if you can’t stay down there this time.’  That’s what she said.  When I came back after coming here to register during the summer, she said, ‘I thought we got rid of you.’  How’s that for a loving home!”

 

Damon was weeping.  He had removed one hand from Bryce’s shoulder, but the other grasped his friend, even as he turned aside to hide his tears.  Then he removed his hand and wiped away his tears, more than a little embarrassed to be breaking down like this, but determined to continue.

 

“I told you I have a brother.  He’s six years older than me.  He hates me!”  Seeing doubt in Bryce’s eyes, Damon went on.  “He really does.  Remember, I told you about guys trying to fuck little boys.  The first guy to try that on me was Tyson, when I was six years old.  I kicked him in the balls, but it’s been like that ever since.  He beat on me so many times I lost count, but he never got my ass.  I was hiding out from him and his buddies the first time I broke into the principal’s office at school.  The only times I could relax at home was when I knew he was involved in something somewhere else.  I’m never going back,” Damon stated forcefully, making clear that this included his family as much as - perhaps more than - the physical projects.

 

Bryce felt his heart go out to his friend.  It was bad enough to be struggling with his inner demons, but to have no one who cared must be terrible.  As much as Bryce complained about his smothering mother, he felt immensely grateful for her at this point.

 

“It was worse when I had to deal with being gay,” Damon continued.  “I knew even back then, when Tyson tried to rape me that first time.  In a way, I guess I’ve always known.  But it took me a little while to realize what that meant, and how the projects deals with gays.  One time when I was eight, I saw what happens to gays in the projects.  There was a guy, maybe sixteen or seventeen.  Lived in a building two down from us.  He was kind of swishy, you know.  Just too obvious.  I happened to be on the fire escape just a little above when he got caught in the alley behind our building.  Three guys at one end of the alley, four at the other end, trapped him.  They grabbed him, beat the shit out of him, stripped him, and then cut off his balls.”

 

“What!” Bryce could not help interrupting.

 

“Yeah.  I saw the whole thing.  They said he wouldn’t need them, since he was a damn queer.  I heard him yell and scream.  I’ll never forget that!  Another reason never to go back.”

 

Damon was exhausted from telling his narrative, and just sat for a while.  Bryce placed his arm across Damon’s shoulders and hugged his friend.  This was a world he never knew, a world of violence and fear, and he was very grateful he had never experienced it.

 

“I became an actor,” Damon said.  “Not on a stage.  They tried having a drama program at my high school, but I avoided it like the plague.  If the guys in the projects found out I was in plays, they might decide I was gay, too, and cut off my balls.  But I spent years acting.  I acted tough.  I acted like I was in command.  I acted cool.  I acted the part so well, I could do it in my sleep.  I told you that first day I was a mean bastard, and I was.  I kicked ass.  But inside I was sacred shitless all the time.  I was afraid somebody would find out who the real me was.”  Damon paused to catch his breath.  “And then, this morning, I came right out and told you and Curtis that I was gay, and both of you just accepted it.  I was so scared you would tell me to go away and disappear.  I was so scared Curtis would say Sigma Alpha Tau doesn’t need a queer brother.  I was afraid he’d say I deserved what I got from Bick.  Can you even imagine what it meant to me when you guys just accepted me?  Let me know you were still on my side?  Let me know you still wanted me?  Can you?”

 

“Damon, I’m so sorry.  I should have realized you were hurting.  I could have been a lot more considerate,” Bryce said.  “In fact, I did sort of know.  Curtis and I talked about you getting drunk so often.  I said it was because of your background, but I didn’t do anything.  I’m sorry.”

 

“Didn’t do anything!  Are you shitting me?  You have been a friend since the first day.  That’s meant more to me than I can even begin to tell you.  I’m the one who should be apologizing.  I’ve been coming on to you, and I know you’re having a problem with that.”

 

“Coming on to me?”

 

“Look, I don’t want to cause you any problems.  I know you don’t want to be labeled gay.  I know you’re having a rough time coming to terms with it.  After all you’ve done for me, I should just back off and leave you alone.  I guess I don’t really know how to relate to a friend.”

 

“Damon, I ....  I don’t know how to respond to that.  I need to work some things out,” Bryce stumbled over his words.

 

“I know.  I’ve seen you struggle with it.  And I’ve been tormenting you instead of helping.  Some friend!” Damon said.  “I’m disgusted with himself.”

 

“No.  Don’t be.  This is why I really came to Clifton.  This is why I had to get far away from home.  I need to work this out.  You are helping.  You’re helping by showing me sides of life, sides of myself, I would never have seen otherwise.  Please, don’t change,” Bryce pled.

 

“You know, I think that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me.  Don’t change.  I call that acceptance,” Damon said in reply.  “What can I do to help you accept things?  Are you ready to admit who you are?”

 

“You mean ...?”

 

“Say it, Bryce.”

 

After only a brief hesitation, Bryce said, “I’m gay,” wondering at himself as he pronounced the words.  “There.  I’ve never said that before.  I’ve tried my best to deny it.  I don’t like it.  There are all kinds of problems with admitting that.  But it’s real.  You’ve been a big part of forcing me to face that reality.  I should thank you,” Bryce said.  He had broken out in a sweat, and was shivering at the same time.  “You knew?”

 

“From the first day.  But I could tell you were having trouble coping.”

 

“Yeah.  In spades.  My family, my religion, my entire background all seem lined up against accepting that.  And all that’s part of who I am, too.  I can’t just walk away from all that.  I’ve been torn because I could not accept being gay.  I could not accept what is really a part of me.  But those other things, they’re part of me, too.  If I just deny them, break with my family, break with my Church, then I’m leaving another part of me behind, just as surely as I have been up to now about being gay.  I still don’t know how all this will work out.  But, until just a minute before, until you brought it out,  I could never say those words you forced out of me.  I’m gay.  I guess that’s some kind of progress.”

 

Damon actually smiled.  “We’re a couple of sorry bastards.  The walking wounded.  You know, you’ve been as good for me as I could possibly have been for you.  You showed me that somebody could actually care for me.  Without you, I would never have known what it is to have a real friend, and I would never have even attempted to join a fraternity.  Maybe we belong together.”

 

“Yeah,” Bryce responded.

 

The two young men sat there on that park bench and stared into each other’s eyes.  As when iron is attracted by a magnet, they leaned towards each other.  Their lips met.  It was not a passionate, tonsil twisting kiss.  In a way, it was not even a lover’s kiss.  It was gentle and caring.  It was an exploratory kiss.  It promised more.

 

“Woo!  Woo!  Woo!”  A kid of about ten stood maybe fifteen feet away, and taunted the two men.

 

Bryce and Damon sprang apart, realizing they were in a public place.  They looked really embarrassed.

 

“Get a room!” the kid yelled, then took off running, giggling like the little imp he was.

 

Bryce and Damon looked at each other, then spontaneously broke out laughing.

 

“I guess we’ve been outed,” Bryce said.

 

“Smart ass kid,” Damon groused.  “But he was just having fun.  He wasn’t being vicious like Bick,” he analyzed.

 

The two friends found some place to have a quick lunch, then returned to campus to prepare for the soccer match between Sigma Alpha Tau and another fraternity.  They knew very well that there was still a multitude of issues to be dealt with, but they felt they had done all they could stand for one morning.  Both now felt they had made some progress, though, and were on the right path, so they could afford to be satisfied for a while, paying attention to other sides of their reality, in this case, being pledges and being ordered to turn out for the soccer match.  Not every moment could be spent in high drama.

 

As they arrived back on campus, Bryce suddenly had an urge to go shopping.  He shared his inspiration with Damon, but his friend declined, saying his debt was becoming too great as it was.  So Bryce went to a sporting goods store just off campus, and outfitted himself in a soccer kit in the fraternity colors, Burgundy and gold.  He acquired two jerseys, and almost got one with the number 69 on the back, but decided that was too much.  Instead, he settled for a plain back on the one he would wear today, leaving the other to have his name put on the back, and promising to return to have that done with the one he would be wearing today when he had the time.  There were matching shorts, of course, so he got two of them as well.  He got six pairs of white athletic knee socks with the fraternity colors in bands around the tops, and then really splurged on a pair of Diadora Kobra shoes in black with yellow facings.  He took his loot back to his room, and dressed out.  Then he went through to Damon’s room.  Damon was facing away from him, pulling on an old pair of sneakers.

 

“Ta da!” Bryce announced, and posed.

 

Damon turned, then let out a whistle.  Bryce half expected him to be envious, but Damon seemed to be  genuinely admiring Bryce’s new outfit.  Or maybe it was Bryce in his new outfit that was being admired.  In any case, Damon came across, circled around his friend, felt the fabric of his jersey, peered at his shoes, then gave his assessment: “Hot, man.”

 

It was mid-afternoon when the two friends turned up at the designated field, near the Fitness Center.  Bryce was just vain enough to be pleased with the accolades his kit received.  Some of the brothers were similarly outfitted, but he was the only pledge to be arrayed in the fraternity colors like that.  Some of his preening was knocked out of him when the designated captains met in the center of the field, however.  As neither fraternity had guys in matching uniforms, in order to keep everyone straight they decided on the time tested shirts and skins method, and in the toss, Sigma Alpha Tau became skins.  So Bryce had to strip away some of his newly purchased finery.  Curtis kidded him about that.  Bryce attempted to pass it off as nothing, but inside he really resented the decision, even though he knew he was being unreasonable.

 

Once play began, however, it was a different story.  Even though it had been several months since Bryce had played, and much longer since that all-state title last year, his years of training served him well.  The reflexes kicked in.  He automatically knew what to do, and did it well.  Damon, on the other hand, had never played a game of soccer in his life.  At this point he had all of two PE sessions, with the first one being spent entirely inside the gym.  Nonetheless, all the pledges were thrown into the game at one point or another.  It was, in a way, their first test on their way to acceptance.  The only thing which made this bearable was that the other side had guys as inexperienced as Damon.  This was Bryce’s first chance to really shine before the guys he wanted to be his fraternity brothers for the next four years.  He was thrown in at the beginning because the brother acting as team captain knew that he had played in high school.  There were two or three others on the team who were really good, but Bryce was the standout among the pledges.  He was left in for the entire game.  The others were rotated out after a short time on the field.  When Damon was in, Bryce did his best to look out for him, but the thrill of the game often commanded his entire attention, allowing his focus on Damon to wane.

 

The score was tied two even near the end of the game.  Bryce had scored one of those two point for his team.  There was a scramble for the ball which resulted in a pile up, with lots of sweaty bodies mingled together.  For just a moment, Bryce’s attention strayed from soccer to the flesh pressed against him.  That had happened before, during his high school career, but then he had denied what he was feeling.  In an insight, he now realized that he enjoyed the contact, and there was nothing wrong with that.  When they broke up, however, Bryce saw that Damon was limping.

 

“What happened?  You hurt?” he demanded.

 

“That bastard in the blue shirt kicked me in the shin,” Damon reported, indicating a member of the opposing team.

 

“Go out.  You’re no use limping,” Bryce instructed.  At that same moment, the captain also noted the situation, and sent Damon to the sidelines.  Bryce felt bad.  He should have been watching out for his friend.  He knew Damon had no idea what to do or how to move.

 

Angered, not so much at the guy who kicked Damon as at himself, Bryce plunged into the remaining minutes of the game with renewed determination.  A play developed as the clock was running out.  A guy in a blue shirt on the opposing team had the ball, but the teams were at the wrong end of the field for him to score.  He seemed unsure whether he should try to run down the field or just guard the ball.  Bryce acted, he approached, feinted, stole the ball with the precision of a brain surgeon operating, and kicked it into the goal, scoring the winning point for Sigma Alpha Tau.  Time!  The entire SAT team and their supporters poured onto the field, all of them wanting to congratulate Bryce, pummeling him in the spirit of camaraderie.  Now he felt great!  He looked for Damon.  When the situation cleared some, he said to his friend, “I got that guy who kicked you.”

 

Damon looked confused for a moment, then he laughed.  “Dude, that was the wrong guy.”

 

Stunned, Bryce turned to look across the field, and realized that there were actually three guys on the opposing team wearing blue shirts.  “Aw, shit!” he said.

 

“Hey, the guy you got was the one with the ball.  You’re the hero of the hour, Dude.  Don’t sweat it.  It’s not like it was a personal thing, you know,” Damon assured him.

 

Following their great victory, the team and its supporters adjourned to the fraternity house, where there was great rejoicing.  This time, there were plenty of females, who had come out to cheer on the SAT brothers, but no Bick.  The beer flowed freely, and there were once again comestibles of various sorts to dilute the alcohol. This time, Damon decided, he absolutely would not get plastered.  He kept an eye on Bryce, and did not allow himself to get another beer until his friend did as well.  After a couple of hours, Damon noticed that he was enjoying the party more than he could remember ever having done before.  In the past, he went to parties in order to drink too much, so he could dull the hurt and fear inside.  But he realized with something like a shock that he was no longer afraid.  He was anxious, sure.  He was not certain how all this would play out.  But he was not afraid.  He had been accepted, and he had a friend.  He did not need to blot out reality.  The party lasted into the wee hours, with music, dancing, and much conversation, but when Bryce and Damon made their way back to Clay Hall, they were both walking unassisted, arm in arm.

 

When they reached the third floor, Damon realized he could not find his key.  Maybe he never had it after changing for soccer.  So, they entered through Bryce’s door.  Damon had been pensive on the way home.  Now, before departing to his own room, he addressed his buddy.

 

“You going to that church of yours in the morning?”

 

“Yeah, sure.  I kind of liked St. Boniface,” Bryce replied.

 

“Think it would be okay if I went with you?” Damon asked.

 

“Sure.  But what brought this on?”

 

“I’m curious to see what turns you on,” Damon kidded him.

 

“I’ll make sure my weapons are loaded in the morning then,” Bryce threatened with a grin.

 

So it was that, about six hours later, Bryce showered, then filled his water pistol and slipped into Damon’s room.  From a safe distance, he applied the tactic which had worked so well all the previous week.  As Damon came awake, he let fly with some pretty colorful language, as he always did.

 

“Is that any way to talk before going to church?” Bryce teased.

 

Damon glared at him.  “Fuck you,” he said.

 

“I seem to recall someone I know saying to me, ‘not yet.’” Bryce laughed as he ducked back to his room, in his own mind designating his action as ‘pulling a Damon.’

 

When Damon showed up later, he had on a dark suit, a white shirt, and a narrow black tie.  Bryce took one look at him and shook his head.

 

“No, that won’t do.  We’re going to a Catholic church.  You look like a Mormon missionary.”

 

“What then?” Damon asked.

 

“Come on.  Let’s see what you have available.”

 

Fifteen minutes later, Damon had on a pair of good slacks and a nice polo shirt (borrowed from Bryce), and had discarded his uncomfortable dress shoes for his Prada sneakers.

 

“Try to remember, this is supposed to be a celebration, not a funeral,” Bryce kidded him.

 

They went out to breakfast, taking in that Shoney’s breakfast bar again, then made their way to St. Boniface in plenty of time.  This morning, they happened to encounter Mike’s family in the parking lot before Mass, and exchanged greetings and introductions.

 

“I’m ignoring you,” Mike said to Bryce.  “This worthless SOB turned down our invitation to join my fraternity,” he commented to anyone who would listen.  Then, turning to Damon, he said, “Glad to see you here this morning.  You thinking of joining us?”

 

“Not really,” the black visitor  replied.  “Let’s just say I felt grateful and curious at the same time, so this seemed like a good idea.”

 

“Good enough,” Mike said.  “We need to get together for that Spanish lesson sometime soon,” he reminded Damon.

 

“Yeah.  Thanks,” Damon responded.  Another good guy.

 

They entered the church, with Bryce attempting to give some explanation of the things Damon saw and asked about.  He told his guest that he did not have to genuflect or kneel if he did not feel comfortable with that.  Using the missalettes provided in the pews, he gave Damon a brief idea of what to expect.  He mentioned that Catholics do not practice open communion because of their belief in real presence, so at that time Damon had a choice.  He could go up and receive a blessing, or he could remain in the pew.  Then Bryce settled in to say his prayers, while Damon looked around him, and enjoyed the music.

 

As the Mass progressed, it was much the same as last week.  Bryce, forewarned, attempted to follow the Greek and Latin, but Damon looked totally lost at those times.  When it came time for the sermon, though, there was a difference.  This week, after Deacon Jeffers proclaimed the Gospel, he remained in the ambo and delivered the sermon as well.  He was a much more energetic preacher than Father Payne, and his sentences at least made sense.  His theme was a simple one.  Citing from the Gospels and from the Epistles of St. Paul and St. John, he insisted that, as unreasonable as it might seem, God actually loves us human beings, despite all the screwing up we do.  Not a great sermon, perhaps, and without the depth of Father Miller at the Newman Center, but certainly more than acceptable, especially when compared with the previous week.  Almost embarrassed, Bryce set aside the New Testament he had brought to read, remembering his mother’s advice, and actually listened.

 

At communion time, Bryce briefly reminded Damon of his options by simply pointing to a statement covering this in the missalette.  Damon was uncertain what he would do until he noticed that Deacon Jeffers would be distributing communion in the aisle where they were sitting.  With a grin, he walked up, placing his arms across his chest, and bowed his head, as he saw several others do.  Deacon Jeffers, in his rich base voice, blessed Damon, touching him on the forehead.  Yeah, that felt right.