Francisco, Summer before Freshman Year at Trinity College
Almost immediately after Graduation, Charlie and I set to packing for move-in day at Trinity. The Housing Gods had seen fit to room us together in a 2 bedroom apartment (they're too nice to be called dorms, all prefurnished and all), so we were rushing to condense our lives inside the safety of our parents' houses into as few cardboard banana boxes as we could. Our mothers went out and bought us picture frames and decoration stuff for the apartment. Charlie's dad wasn't home for much of it, but when he was, he was busy imparting wisdom on both of us. You know, about drinking and safe sex (like we'd need that?), fraternity pledges, and academic probation and how much money he'd send every week.
A couple weeks of packing and advising and eating eating eating went by, and it was finally time! I didn't see Charlie again that day until we arrived on campus. God I was so effing jittery! As soon as our folks left, the place was ours! I was insanely excited for other reasons than independance, though...we hadn't had sex since prom night and I was eager to make him feel as good. Waves of electricity flushed my cheeks and made my hands shake. I could almost feel his soft skin under them. God, my heart was his to do whatever with at this point. I needed to feel his kiss, his reassurance. I was secretly freaking out about moving, though. And leaving all the material comforts of home. But for a chance to live exclusively with the boy I love? Absolutely.
Charlie and I spent a good hour or so hauling boxes up the stairs to the dorm. Our folks helped. We were right above Delta floor, and right below Phi. It was a good place to be. Shit covered the floors and walls of our new home, moms cried a little, dads were tough (and in Charlie's case, generous, support advance!) and us dudes were strong. The goodbyes happened and we waved our parents down the hall for their departure. As soon as they were out of earshot, the door was shut and the fun began.
We crashed down onto the soft bed, relishing in the luxury of making noise for once. Sighing, groaning, hell, even laughter. "Nobody can hear us, baby, nobody at all, we can be as loud as hell we want!" Charlie was jovial and relieved. So was I. The last few months of strained silence and sneaking around were stifling. Now we were tearing off clothes and leaving them where ever they fell, on the bed or floor or who cares? We could walk around our dorm completely naked, 24-7 if we wanted to, as long as the blinds were drawn. This was true freedom!
I hungrily devoured his mouth, pushing his face aside to reach the tender flesh of his neck and the throbbing vein there. It was amazing and invigorating, hearing the gasp my tongue solicited. God. My greedy hands tore at his track pants, jerking them down to reveal scorching skin and hardness that a cat couldn't scratch. "Come on, we've been waiting too long," I growled in his ear. The moment was there, it was steaming hot, we could make love on any surface in the whole place! "Kitchen counter?" He seemed fine with that.
Between bed and kitchen, pants, shoes, and sox were lost. I hoisted him up by his hips, catching on the countertop. Normally it would squick me out to have ass where I make my food, but his boxers were still on, and I was way too hot to pay attention much anyway. Beads of sweat rolled down his sideburn and dripped off his chin, I observed as I kissed down his chest. Something far away clicked and I ignored it, I was too caught up in the skin skin skin sex hotness, what's under that blue cotton?
"Excuse me, man, is this the Delta house?"
OMIGOD.
I jerked foreward by instinct, cracking my knee hard on the cabinet.
"No, no, dude, this is...this is Kappa, uh....Delta is a floor down," I sputtered, fleeing behind the dining table.
"Thanks? I'll just, uh, let myself out," the stranger shut the door behind him.
Well, there went the mood.
It was too awkward to resume the whole making love thing after the Delta-house-mixup. I glanced briefly around the room at all our things. Clothes, electronics, wall hangings and things to make the apartment look nice. Boxes and boxes of our lives, somehow all fitting into one little place. It didn't seem possible, but we were merging not only our objects, but our lives. There wouldn't be any more separation. It would be like a permanent sleepover, which, in one way was totally delightful. Always having the comfort of Charlie's presence and his scent all over everything, always having him near me. Whenever I wanted to talk, hang out, eat with him, exercise, or do some exploring, there he was. But it was intimidating; at this point, I had to be sure I was in love or else this living arrangement would never work. I only knew of two guys that were moving in with girls out of high school, and one of them was because they had a baby. God, this would be a major test of our fortitude. What if it was like my parents, what if we randomly started hating each other? New anxieties filled me up and I slowly unpacked and placed my belongings. I felt dizzy and moved to my backpack to puff on my inhaler a little.
"Are you okay, dude? What's wrong?" he laid his hand on my back and tried to steady me.
"I'm fine, I'm just freaking out. This is a big deal, you know?" Another puff and my lungs filled with air and medicine.
After a couple hours, our clothes were put away and furniture arranged. Shower goods were in the newly contructed shower-tree, rugs were down, electronics plugged up and connected to where they went. It really looked like home. Charlie snapped a few pictures on his phone, probably to text to his mom. "Man, I'm bushed. Let's steam out in the bath and go grab some eats. We've got, like, zero groceries." he suggested. Sounded good to me. I followed him into the bathroom, which was cozy. Not too spacious, but not all dingey and dirty or anything. He turned the shower on full heat, exhaling long and languid. "I've been waiting forever for this," he sighed, twisting his shirt off again and tossing it in the clothes bin, followed by jeans and boxers. I follwed suit and climbed into the tub opposite him, letting the hot water rain down on me and my tired muscules. We stretched out, mirroring each other, legs touching. He leaned back, avoiding bumping the faucet, and scrunched water through his hair. It looked more brown than blonde when wet. I didn't care anything about washing my hair much, it was satisfying just to sit across from him, feel the cold tile juxtapose my boiled skin. I was too relaxed to even be turned on. Crazy.
"This is sooo nice. I don't want to get up out of here ever." I mumbled, fishing around on the shower tree, looking for the green bar of soap that personified my boy's smell. Is this what it would be like? Showers together, leaving for class, coming home to forrage for dinner, then crawling in bed together and never having to be away from his warm body again? Overwhelming, but still perfect. It was hard when we weren't together all the time, going to separate beds at night and counting on only myself for sexual happiness. Would I get tired of him? Would the newness wear off and would I get...I don't know, jaded? Would I start noticing the little things: little bumps of cellulite on his inner thighs, moles in weird places, unsymmetrical porportions? Oh shit, I already noticed. Was it too late?!
He leaned foreward and grazed my belly with his fingertips. It woke me. "Cisco, what's wrong?" he saw the train of thoughts fogging across the shower. "I worry. This is major, moving in together," I was already sweaty from the steam, but the conversation wasn't helping. I hate big relationship talks. This was going to be the whole "So Where Do Two Gay Guys Go From Here?" talk. I'd been planning it for a few weeks, but we hadn't had the chance to be alone together, with all the graduation and moving out hoopla. It had turned into yet another source of anxiety; these were some pretty heavy subjects. Where I live, just this year, same-sex marriage has been okay'd by the state's government. I mean, not that I'm looking into that just yet. Marriage with anybody. At all. But we need to at least consider the possibilities. After college, we need to have a plan. Start thinking about retirement and things like that. Do I really want to be with him for the rest of my life?
It's not that I was thinking of other boys. Or girls, for that matter. I watched my parents totally jack up what marriage was supposed to be. How can I be sure to not make the same mistake? There were too many variables. Besides, how could I be sure that he wanted this too? What if he were looking? Well, I doubted that a little. Charlie still flinched at the word "gay", I often wondered if he really had accepted his own feelings and leanings. I didn't think he was faking it, I mean, come on! You don't have sex with another guy unless you really mean it.
"I've been thinking. About the future. And about us," It wasn't exactly Socrates, but still a solid start.
"I know, right? Aside from the whole law school thing, I really don't know what I want to do. What's your idea? You haven't exactly got a legacy to hold up," This was true. It was something that bothered Charlie. His father, Winston Allen Mellon, was a respectable lawyer. His grandfather, Justice Wallace Mellon, was a professor at St. Francis Private University, after getting a Master's degree at Harvard and going abroad, studying in France, Italy, and Switzerland. Charlie couldn't open up a diner and expect respect from his family. His mom was different, she came from foreign money and wasn't as concerned with his image as an ultrasuperstar attourney as his dad was. She had been the only person to know about us, and had kept confident about it. She was confused at first, but it was better than defensive.
"Well, I want to go into business. Own my own restaurant. I've got a solid plan there. That's why I'm here, Trinity is supposed to have an awesome business school and culinary program. Working in the dining hall and everything. Charlie, what I'm asking is...do you want to stay together? Because if we're going to do this, we need to do it right and be ourselves. I hid for so long, all through high school, and I'm done with it," I was resolute. Completely serious, and damn, I could have won an academy award for best performance of feelings, ever.
He paused, thoughtful.
"My dad would kill me. Man, I love you. I think I do want to be with you. I just...I don't know how to go from here. Let's think about this logically...when guys and girls date, they move in together. We've already done that. Now...well, we see for a while if we work out living together. If we don't...then no big deal. If we do...then, well, we'll talk about, you know, marriage." It was a sound suggestion.
"Let's figure out a date. If, by February, we haven't killed each other...then we'll talk further. I think we should start by, like, joining a Gay-Straight Alliance on campus. We'll have people to talk to that understand. And no more hiding. If people ask us if we're gay, we just tell them the truth."
"The truth? I can't...I can't say that word."
"Don't be ridiculous, man. We tell them that we're two guys that love each other very much. It's not like we want to put makeup on them or rearrange their house while they're out."
Laughter. That's the Charlie I know and love.
We dressed, and it was a little weird. It wasn't like the awkward post-sex getting dressed, where you were all sweaty and it was obvious what you just did, how you don't really want to cover up the exquisiteness of your bodies but do it anyway. It felt like I was getting dressed by myself at home. You know, there was something there. After sex that first time...it was perfect. In the squashy comforter of the hotel, we held each other and snuggled and I ended up comforting him for once. The pain of that first time had been a little much and he was so embarassed. It was a lot to ask of him, completely opening himself up for me, both physically and emotionally. Since that night, so much trust had been built and so many issues had been resolved between us. If there were any time for it to have gone to hell, it would have been then. A few people heard about it, and were surprisingly supportive of it. No matter who it's with...the loss of virginity does carry a lot of respect.
I glanced over at him, pulling his shirt down and smoothing it. I tried to imagine words I'd seen on TV or read about in the paper: Husband. Forever Love. Domestic Partner. Live-In Companion. Life Partner.
That one gave me vivid, vivid dreams!
My mind's eye flooded with movies, my handsome boy in a tux, holding my hand in front of a blurry-faced clergyman, nodding his head and smiling, and us kissing. I saw us driving along in Cranston, hunting for For Sale signs in the yards of respectable homes. I see us barbequing and laughing with friends. There we are on the couch, watching the Partriots, just like before. Life Partner. It's not a farce of marriage, with one as the breadwinner, the man in the suit, and the other as the wife who wears aprons. It's not an understatement of the feelings, like two people who happen to be the same sex and live together. No, it's perfect. Partners for life. I mean, we would be anyway, right?
It's clearer to me now what I truly want. And for once in my life, I feel like making the first move. I have never felt surer about anything in my life. He creaked open the door and gathered his old clothes from the floor and I just couldn't take it. I grabbed his arm--
"Charlie, wait. Listen. I've been thinking...I want this. Let's plan for this. "
He looked taken aback.
"Me? As your, like, husband? Cisco, I don't--"
I stopped him and explained about the Life Partners thing. And he looked puzzled. We moved the conversation to the bed. He eased down and put his head between his hands. Did I go too far?
"Cisco, Cisco. I love you. But this is a lot for me to think about right now. And food? Not even eaten yet. Let's go get groceries and let this sit for a while, okay? I'm sorry." he pulled me close and kissed me. This just wasn't the time to discuss it. That's okay, I guess.
There is a Target store close to campus, so we just decided to go there. For fresh meats, though, we'd have to go elsewhere. Charlie suggested we just get some of what we needed and get the fresh stuff, meats and veggies and fruits, later. It was surreal, going down the aisles and finding the things to feed ourselves. I mean, I cooked for fun at home, but never for another person. It was mostly silent, exept examining food labels and debating whether we should get spicy or extra hot. Nothing all relationshippy or serious. We got home and unloaded, stuffed some potato skins in the oven, and sat down on the couch to discuss.
"Well. This isn't really something that, I'll be honest, man...I haven't given a lot of thought to. It scares me, I have so much riding on me. My family's legacy, my own future, and now I have you. It's more than four years of keggers and fun to me. I mean, shit. There's so much riding on this, I can't screw up." he sighed. I reached down and gripped his hand. I couldn't imagine the kind of pressure he faced. I didn't come from money like him, my mother and I came up from near poverty in Texas when she married my stepdad, Hank. But that didn't work out, obviously. When I told my mom that I wanted to go to college for business, she was happy that I knew what I wanted out of life, and she felt like she gave me the tools to do it.
"Man, I know. I want to be there for you. I want to help you. I'm not talking about doing this like next week or even next year. I want to make this work."
It looked like that made it through. And every word of it was true, you know.
We had about a week until class actually started. Most of it was spent between the bed, couch, and fridge. I could feel, though, in every moment I spent with him after that talk, that the dynamic had changed. I was starting to see our relationship as a fluid thing, constantly changing and never static. The balance of power was tipping to more even than it had been. I wanted something, went for it, and took a successful risk. Business and life are full of them. I'm sure glad I figured that out early.
A couple weeks of packing and advising and eating eating eating went by, and it was finally time! I didn't see Charlie again that day until we arrived on campus. God I was so effing jittery! As soon as our folks left, the place was ours! I was insanely excited for other reasons than independance, though...we hadn't had sex since prom night and I was eager to make him feel as good. Waves of electricity flushed my cheeks and made my hands shake. I could almost feel his soft skin under them. God, my heart was his to do whatever with at this point. I needed to feel his kiss, his reassurance. I was secretly freaking out about moving, though. And leaving all the material comforts of home. But for a chance to live exclusively with the boy I love? Absolutely.
Charlie and I spent a good hour or so hauling boxes up the stairs to the dorm. Our folks helped. We were right above Delta floor, and right below Phi. It was a good place to be. Shit covered the floors and walls of our new home, moms cried a little, dads were tough (and in Charlie's case, generous, support advance!) and us dudes were strong. The goodbyes happened and we waved our parents down the hall for their departure. As soon as they were out of earshot, the door was shut and the fun began.
We crashed down onto the soft bed, relishing in the luxury of making noise for once. Sighing, groaning, hell, even laughter. "Nobody can hear us, baby, nobody at all, we can be as loud as hell we want!" Charlie was jovial and relieved. So was I. The last few months of strained silence and sneaking around were stifling. Now we were tearing off clothes and leaving them where ever they fell, on the bed or floor or who cares? We could walk around our dorm completely naked, 24-7 if we wanted to, as long as the blinds were drawn. This was true freedom!
I hungrily devoured his mouth, pushing his face aside to reach the tender flesh of his neck and the throbbing vein there. It was amazing and invigorating, hearing the gasp my tongue solicited. God. My greedy hands tore at his track pants, jerking them down to reveal scorching skin and hardness that a cat couldn't scratch. "Come on, we've been waiting too long," I growled in his ear. The moment was there, it was steaming hot, we could make love on any surface in the whole place! "Kitchen counter?" He seemed fine with that.
Between bed and kitchen, pants, shoes, and sox were lost. I hoisted him up by his hips, catching on the countertop. Normally it would squick me out to have ass where I make my food, but his boxers were still on, and I was way too hot to pay attention much anyway. Beads of sweat rolled down his sideburn and dripped off his chin, I observed as I kissed down his chest. Something far away clicked and I ignored it, I was too caught up in the skin skin skin sex hotness, what's under that blue cotton?
"Excuse me, man, is this the Delta house?"
OMIGOD.
I jerked foreward by instinct, cracking my knee hard on the cabinet.
"No, no, dude, this is...this is Kappa, uh....Delta is a floor down," I sputtered, fleeing behind the dining table.
"Thanks? I'll just, uh, let myself out," the stranger shut the door behind him.
Well, there went the mood.
It was too awkward to resume the whole making love thing after the Delta-house-mixup. I glanced briefly around the room at all our things. Clothes, electronics, wall hangings and things to make the apartment look nice. Boxes and boxes of our lives, somehow all fitting into one little place. It didn't seem possible, but we were merging not only our objects, but our lives. There wouldn't be any more separation. It would be like a permanent sleepover, which, in one way was totally delightful. Always having the comfort of Charlie's presence and his scent all over everything, always having him near me. Whenever I wanted to talk, hang out, eat with him, exercise, or do some exploring, there he was. But it was intimidating; at this point, I had to be sure I was in love or else this living arrangement would never work. I only knew of two guys that were moving in with girls out of high school, and one of them was because they had a baby. God, this would be a major test of our fortitude. What if it was like my parents, what if we randomly started hating each other? New anxieties filled me up and I slowly unpacked and placed my belongings. I felt dizzy and moved to my backpack to puff on my inhaler a little.
"Are you okay, dude? What's wrong?" he laid his hand on my back and tried to steady me.
"I'm fine, I'm just freaking out. This is a big deal, you know?" Another puff and my lungs filled with air and medicine.
After a couple hours, our clothes were put away and furniture arranged. Shower goods were in the newly contructed shower-tree, rugs were down, electronics plugged up and connected to where they went. It really looked like home. Charlie snapped a few pictures on his phone, probably to text to his mom. "Man, I'm bushed. Let's steam out in the bath and go grab some eats. We've got, like, zero groceries." he suggested. Sounded good to me. I followed him into the bathroom, which was cozy. Not too spacious, but not all dingey and dirty or anything. He turned the shower on full heat, exhaling long and languid. "I've been waiting forever for this," he sighed, twisting his shirt off again and tossing it in the clothes bin, followed by jeans and boxers. I follwed suit and climbed into the tub opposite him, letting the hot water rain down on me and my tired muscules. We stretched out, mirroring each other, legs touching. He leaned back, avoiding bumping the faucet, and scrunched water through his hair. It looked more brown than blonde when wet. I didn't care anything about washing my hair much, it was satisfying just to sit across from him, feel the cold tile juxtapose my boiled skin. I was too relaxed to even be turned on. Crazy.
"This is sooo nice. I don't want to get up out of here ever." I mumbled, fishing around on the shower tree, looking for the green bar of soap that personified my boy's smell. Is this what it would be like? Showers together, leaving for class, coming home to forrage for dinner, then crawling in bed together and never having to be away from his warm body again? Overwhelming, but still perfect. It was hard when we weren't together all the time, going to separate beds at night and counting on only myself for sexual happiness. Would I get tired of him? Would the newness wear off and would I get...I don't know, jaded? Would I start noticing the little things: little bumps of cellulite on his inner thighs, moles in weird places, unsymmetrical porportions? Oh shit, I already noticed. Was it too late?!
He leaned foreward and grazed my belly with his fingertips. It woke me. "Cisco, what's wrong?" he saw the train of thoughts fogging across the shower. "I worry. This is major, moving in together," I was already sweaty from the steam, but the conversation wasn't helping. I hate big relationship talks. This was going to be the whole "So Where Do Two Gay Guys Go From Here?" talk. I'd been planning it for a few weeks, but we hadn't had the chance to be alone together, with all the graduation and moving out hoopla. It had turned into yet another source of anxiety; these were some pretty heavy subjects. Where I live, just this year, same-sex marriage has been okay'd by the state's government. I mean, not that I'm looking into that just yet. Marriage with anybody. At all. But we need to at least consider the possibilities. After college, we need to have a plan. Start thinking about retirement and things like that. Do I really want to be with him for the rest of my life?
It's not that I was thinking of other boys. Or girls, for that matter. I watched my parents totally jack up what marriage was supposed to be. How can I be sure to not make the same mistake? There were too many variables. Besides, how could I be sure that he wanted this too? What if he were looking? Well, I doubted that a little. Charlie still flinched at the word "gay", I often wondered if he really had accepted his own feelings and leanings. I didn't think he was faking it, I mean, come on! You don't have sex with another guy unless you really mean it.
"I've been thinking. About the future. And about us," It wasn't exactly Socrates, but still a solid start.
"I know, right? Aside from the whole law school thing, I really don't know what I want to do. What's your idea? You haven't exactly got a legacy to hold up," This was true. It was something that bothered Charlie. His father, Winston Allen Mellon, was a respectable lawyer. His grandfather, Justice Wallace Mellon, was a professor at St. Francis Private University, after getting a Master's degree at Harvard and going abroad, studying in France, Italy, and Switzerland. Charlie couldn't open up a diner and expect respect from his family. His mom was different, she came from foreign money and wasn't as concerned with his image as an ultrasuperstar attourney as his dad was. She had been the only person to know about us, and had kept confident about it. She was confused at first, but it was better than defensive.
"Well, I want to go into business. Own my own restaurant. I've got a solid plan there. That's why I'm here, Trinity is supposed to have an awesome business school and culinary program. Working in the dining hall and everything. Charlie, what I'm asking is...do you want to stay together? Because if we're going to do this, we need to do it right and be ourselves. I hid for so long, all through high school, and I'm done with it," I was resolute. Completely serious, and damn, I could have won an academy award for best performance of feelings, ever.
He paused, thoughtful.
"My dad would kill me. Man, I love you. I think I do want to be with you. I just...I don't know how to go from here. Let's think about this logically...when guys and girls date, they move in together. We've already done that. Now...well, we see for a while if we work out living together. If we don't...then no big deal. If we do...then, well, we'll talk about, you know, marriage." It was a sound suggestion.
"Let's figure out a date. If, by February, we haven't killed each other...then we'll talk further. I think we should start by, like, joining a Gay-Straight Alliance on campus. We'll have people to talk to that understand. And no more hiding. If people ask us if we're gay, we just tell them the truth."
"The truth? I can't...I can't say that word."
"Don't be ridiculous, man. We tell them that we're two guys that love each other very much. It's not like we want to put makeup on them or rearrange their house while they're out."
Laughter. That's the Charlie I know and love.
We dressed, and it was a little weird. It wasn't like the awkward post-sex getting dressed, where you were all sweaty and it was obvious what you just did, how you don't really want to cover up the exquisiteness of your bodies but do it anyway. It felt like I was getting dressed by myself at home. You know, there was something there. After sex that first time...it was perfect. In the squashy comforter of the hotel, we held each other and snuggled and I ended up comforting him for once. The pain of that first time had been a little much and he was so embarassed. It was a lot to ask of him, completely opening himself up for me, both physically and emotionally. Since that night, so much trust had been built and so many issues had been resolved between us. If there were any time for it to have gone to hell, it would have been then. A few people heard about it, and were surprisingly supportive of it. No matter who it's with...the loss of virginity does carry a lot of respect.
I glanced over at him, pulling his shirt down and smoothing it. I tried to imagine words I'd seen on TV or read about in the paper: Husband. Forever Love. Domestic Partner. Live-In Companion. Life Partner.
That one gave me vivid, vivid dreams!
My mind's eye flooded with movies, my handsome boy in a tux, holding my hand in front of a blurry-faced clergyman, nodding his head and smiling, and us kissing. I saw us driving along in Cranston, hunting for For Sale signs in the yards of respectable homes. I see us barbequing and laughing with friends. There we are on the couch, watching the Partriots, just like before. Life Partner. It's not a farce of marriage, with one as the breadwinner, the man in the suit, and the other as the wife who wears aprons. It's not an understatement of the feelings, like two people who happen to be the same sex and live together. No, it's perfect. Partners for life. I mean, we would be anyway, right?
It's clearer to me now what I truly want. And for once in my life, I feel like making the first move. I have never felt surer about anything in my life. He creaked open the door and gathered his old clothes from the floor and I just couldn't take it. I grabbed his arm--
"Charlie, wait. Listen. I've been thinking...I want this. Let's plan for this. "
He looked taken aback.
"Me? As your, like, husband? Cisco, I don't--"
I stopped him and explained about the Life Partners thing. And he looked puzzled. We moved the conversation to the bed. He eased down and put his head between his hands. Did I go too far?
"Cisco, Cisco. I love you. But this is a lot for me to think about right now. And food? Not even eaten yet. Let's go get groceries and let this sit for a while, okay? I'm sorry." he pulled me close and kissed me. This just wasn't the time to discuss it. That's okay, I guess.
There is a Target store close to campus, so we just decided to go there. For fresh meats, though, we'd have to go elsewhere. Charlie suggested we just get some of what we needed and get the fresh stuff, meats and veggies and fruits, later. It was surreal, going down the aisles and finding the things to feed ourselves. I mean, I cooked for fun at home, but never for another person. It was mostly silent, exept examining food labels and debating whether we should get spicy or extra hot. Nothing all relationshippy or serious. We got home and unloaded, stuffed some potato skins in the oven, and sat down on the couch to discuss.
"Well. This isn't really something that, I'll be honest, man...I haven't given a lot of thought to. It scares me, I have so much riding on me. My family's legacy, my own future, and now I have you. It's more than four years of keggers and fun to me. I mean, shit. There's so much riding on this, I can't screw up." he sighed. I reached down and gripped his hand. I couldn't imagine the kind of pressure he faced. I didn't come from money like him, my mother and I came up from near poverty in Texas when she married my stepdad, Hank. But that didn't work out, obviously. When I told my mom that I wanted to go to college for business, she was happy that I knew what I wanted out of life, and she felt like she gave me the tools to do it.
"Man, I know. I want to be there for you. I want to help you. I'm not talking about doing this like next week or even next year. I want to make this work."
It looked like that made it through. And every word of it was true, you know.
We had about a week until class actually started. Most of it was spent between the bed, couch, and fridge. I could feel, though, in every moment I spent with him after that talk, that the dynamic had changed. I was starting to see our relationship as a fluid thing, constantly changing and never static. The balance of power was tipping to more even than it had been. I wanted something, went for it, and took a successful risk. Business and life are full of them. I'm sure glad I figured that out early.