Andy Stevenson vs. The Lord of the Loins (25 page)

Now, most people would have given up after being snubbed in public, let alone in private, but not this assclown. Of course, it definitely didn't help that I would casually look over at him in class and wink, all with Alan's blessing, of course. I never left him out of what I was planning for a second!

The more this went on, the more Tristan was bound and determined to get me just for the sake of getting me, and I was determined to let him build up enough speed before running headfirst into the brick wall I was busy building. Ego would be his undoing, and I needed to get into the practice of ... well, masturbating it.

I also started making appointments with Professor Gevaultski on a regular basis. She was quite shocked to see me, and absolutely astounded that I was bringing very serious questions to her about plot, subplots, characters, language and pacing. It wasn't long before she invited me to call her Cathleen again, and even reminded me that I should, that it was an important part of college to get to know one's professors well enough for networking purposes.

It was writing we were supposed to be doing and it was writing we did. Kim, Ryan and I worked on our stories, sometimes together, sometimes in solitude, but always using each other as sounding boards to test how the material was coming along. Poor Alan had never been around writers much before, and he didn't really understand why we nearly popped a woody over a perfect sentence or carried on like Jimmy Bakker did during his prostitute confession when we hit a particularly grueling paragraph. He took it in stride and just accepted it as one of those idiosyncrasies he'd have to come to think he loved about me.

Ryan had decided that his final project would be about a summer camp experience. There were the rumors, the talking behind each other's backs, the who did what and where, when and with whom and those were just the counselors. Kim suggested that a story like his was a perfect opportunity to really dig into the lust and sex underlining places like that, especially camps like the ones she'd attended. There were the teasing looks, the peepholes in the shower room walls, the skinny-dipping in the lake after the kids were put down for the night, the glory holes, the total wild abandonment of virginity...

Indignant, Ryan informed her that this wasn't Camp Getahoochie or Getaweewee, which we knew went right over her head when she demanded to know which part of the state those were located in.

Kim, on the other hand, was taking a slightly different approach to the real-life scenario Cathleen expected from us. In her story, a small electrically charged meteor impacts the earth and renders all technology useless. In the midst of this new age of society reverting back to wearing animal skins, hunting each other with clubs and living in clans, a tough-as-nails, cynical ex-nurse with a martial arts background from a suburb of Chicago rises up against the oppressive male rulers, enslaves them and then uses them at her will. Our heroine's name: Diva Labahn.

Aside from establishing the particulars, the first installment deals with Diva's rise to power, the choices she makes on a nightly basis as to whom she should teach the ways of love to, several fights where she kicks everybody's ass and, finally, her conquering the former state of Illinois. Kim felt she was being modest in believing that this could be a long-running series with strong film potential because of all the hot young movie stars Diva could sleep with. It would make
Basic Instinct
look like a Disney film.

Ryan and I had our doubts about Diva, but Alan thought it was the coolest. It turned out that I had a boyfriend who really loved sci-fi and other stories with strong female characters or, as he put it, a bitch with an attitude. As long as there were readers like him around, suspension-of-disbelief be damned

Aside from that little strange revelation, my relationship with him continued to grow. While Tristan went straight for the hardcore stuff, we found a world of ecstasy in just holding hands, cuddling or verbal banter, which Alan usually won because I let him. A romance like ours doesn't happen very often, certainly not on those daytime talk shows or those late-night ones either. God knows what would happen if Morton Downey Jr. ever got a hold of us.

On another front, the housing situation didn't look too good for the next school year. I received another one of those lovely colored memos telling me that all of the single rooms like mine were being converted to hold an additional person due to increased enrollment. I thought about asking Alan to share a room with me, but then wondered if that would complicate things. After all, I had a difficult enough time cleaning up after him when he stayed with me and that was only part-time. I could just imagine the mess on a more permanent basis, and I wasn't going to school to be his maid.

Well, he expressed a great deal of dismay that I hadn't asked him, which meant verbal banter ensued—that I let him win—and he informed me that we were going to try living together anyway. He was, indeed, under the misconception that I was here on earth to serve him.

It was a big step, and I still thought it might be rushing things a bit, but I trusted him and admired his confidence. I suspected that was a good thing because it was settled no matter if I had anything to say about it or not. Now all I had to do was get through the rest of the semester.

The day of my presentation arrived. I'd been extremely nervous the night before, but Alan told me he had something to relax me and help me sleep. It was Chinese tea. Yes, I was disappointed, but it worked, though it did make me pee—frequently. I woke up the next morning and told him I was nervous again, but that tea wouldn't work. He suggested I not push my luck.

Presenters only had to read one scene or a small part of a scene so that the flavor of the overall story and writing style could be sampled. There were several completed scenes in my story that I could choose from, but the selection I would read was one I'd only recently finished. Cathleen had been working with me on the others and was more than pleased with the results.

One thing she had pointed out to me was that the more we discussed the more the story expanded, and I should really go with where it took me in longer form. It was food for future thought, but seriously, I didn't want to hear anymore food analogies where my work was concerned. I just hoped my presentation turned out better than Ryan's had a week earlier.

One class member had picked his dialogue apart and said it sounded like the inane ramblings of teenagers—wasn't she the gifted one to pick that out since the story was about teenagers? Another said the source of the main character's emotional turmoil should be more realistic than the death of his mother, that maybe the death of his dog would connect more with readers. Abby thought the main character should be suffering from the threat of a blood clot traveling right into his brain at any moment, that everyone would know that this summer might very well be his last, which would strike a major blow by making the story a true test of survival and courage. Tristan spoke up and said the story needed some tailbone, some ass. Where was the ass?

"I'm looking at him,” Ryan growled.

It just didn't add up to an aesthetically pleasing read, which would have been fine had someone not actually said that out loud. Kim considered announcing she'd gone home and played with herself after reading it, and I almost announced that it had driven me to a deviant lifestyle; but we were pretty certain he wouldn't have appreciated our comments as much now as he might have a few months back.

To add insult to injury, they loved everything about Miss Kim's tale of Diva Labahn. Abby was quick to point out what an outstanding blow it was against tyrannical males and their selfish urges. Another applauded Kim's originality, and yet one more actually offered to help her out with the scientific angle of what kind of meteor it would take to accomplish what she needed it to.

They were even nice to Rueben and his little tale of a gateway to hell in the woods behind the university unleashing horny bloodthirsty warlocks into our world in the guise of fraternity members. Abby viewed it as a blow to all fraternities about the image they were projecting. Abby had issues with blowing.

I walked into class just before it started and was pleased to see that Ryan and Kim were sitting on either side of Tristan, just like we'd planned. Precautions may not always be necessary, but they were a good thing to take. Cathleen gave me a warm smile, and I took a seat.

"One of our presenters today has a story I personally feel will be a pleasant surprise for you. We didn't quite hit it off at the beginning of the semester, and nobody really bought all that nonsense about blond vampires...” Cruel laughter erupted in parts of the room. “...but...” The laughter stopped. “...something I look for in a writer is the ability and desire to grow. Andy has been meeting with me for quite some time now and exploring deep issues of what literature is all about and the power it has to shape thoughts, ideas and minds."

That got everyone's attention. The gay guy with bad hair had been meeting with the professor? Oh, my. Scandalous.

"The story he's been working on has been expanding considerably, and I'm told he has a new section prepared for us today.” Cathleen looked over at me. “I'll let you set the scene up."

"Thank you.” I took my place in front of the class. “The story so far is about a young, naive college freshman who travels out to California with his grandmother to attend a relative's fiftieth wedding anniversary. During the party, he meets Jordan, his cousin by marriage only...” I always felt the need to clarify that particular part. “...who's gay and comes on to him. I then—sorry, Ralph then spends the rest of the story defining his sexuality to Jordan and fighting desires that have always been there, but that have been repressed because of all the stereotypes and negative attitudes society embraces about homosexuality."

A few people in the class flinched.

"Ralph finally decides to follow his heart when he realizes that the feelings he has for Jordan are real and not just some fleeting fancy. What I'm going to read to you now takes place the morning after their feelings for each other are realized."

"Excuse me.” Savath raised his hand. “But I already have a problem with the story. What kind of name is Ralph for a gay character?"

"A good one.” I looked directly at him “What kind of name is Savath for a pompous ass? Anyone else?"

Tristan had an irritating little arrogant smirk on his face and took a deep breath. Whatever he was thinking about saying was cut short when he heard a small tapping on either side of him. He turned one way and saw Ryan holding a sharp metal pencil pointed in his direction then turned the other and saw Kim with a pen doing the same thing. This was one of those precautionary measures I thought might be necessary, and was glad we were prepared for it.

"Here it goes.” I opened my folder and pulled out the freshly printed pages. Alan had offered his assistance with revisions, but I didn't know what they were, since he'd given them to me at the last second. He said I'd know them because he'd surrounded them with quotation marks. I hated not being perfectly prepared.

I couldn't remember dreaming anything much that night. After all, what could I possibly dream about when all my dreams, prior to meeting my real boyfriend at school eight months later, had just come true? We held each other the entire night, even turning over at the same time. Sometimes, Jordan was wrapped up in my arms, and sometimes, I was in his, which I enjoyed because I'd never had the real thing and didn't know what it was yet. It was the most content way I think I've ever woken up in my life—until meeting my real boyfriend at school eight months later—which is exactly how he must be feeling, too. His chin was resting on my shoulder, and I could feel his breath on my bare skin.’”

"Are you finally awake?” He whispered.

"Yes.” I didn't want this to be the typical cliche like was so often seen in bad Hollywood romances. “You know, I used to tell myself that sex was supposed to be free, given out on a plate and gorged with as many people as humanly possible, only a deeper part of me wanted to hold on to tradition and save that experience for someone I fell in love with and who was in love with me. Maybe I was just stopping myself so that I didn't make a mistake with some retarded blond slut."

"Ralph,” Jordan soothed me.

"I know. Not all blonds are retarded sluts. After all, I used to be blond—nowadays, I just have bad judgment. What I mean is that we're not in love. I haven't been here long enough, and I'm leaving tomorrow.” I fought back a lump in my throat. “But I want you to know, if I was going to be here, going to school or helping translate for poor immigrant workers...” I shook my head. “I might possibly fall in love with you if I knew I wasn't going to meet some-one back at school eight months from now."

He pulled me closer to him.

"I knew last night that I was go-ing to have to leave, but I wanted to share myself with you anyway. Hence, poor judgment. I wanted to know what it was like, and I wanted it to be with you. Does that make me a tramp?"

"No, it doesn't.” Jordan turned me over to face him. “It takes two willing people to do what we did last night. There was nothing one-sided about it at all, though I may be guilty for starting this—and I am. I may have made you face something you weren't ready to yet—and I did...” He paused and put his hand on my chest, fondling my manly hair. “And if you were going to be here for a while, I know I'd fall in love with you—if you weren't going to meet someone back at school eight months from now.

"Short, sweet and to the point.” Cathleen stood up when I stopped and joined me at the front of the class. “As always, I'll reserve any additional comments I have until after everyone else is through. Who'd like to start? Devon?"

"I think it's disgusting!” Devon's face contorted. “The mere thought of two guys in bed together like that makes me sick to my stomach."

Aha! There was the first victim I was looking for.

"Severe.” Cathleen looked at me. “Would you like to respond to that?"