The Quantum

By Dabeagle

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Chapter Fifteen

I lay in Jake’s bed, his warm form tucked close to me. I loved him, more than just about anything I can think of. But I couldn’t sleep. No, he doesn’t snore, and no, I was not thinking of jumping his bones. I admit we explored a bit earlier, and while we were passionate, for some reason neither of us moved below the waist. Well, not entirely true. We avoided the waist itself, but the legs and whatnot were wide open. I mean, fair game. No matter how I say it, it’s going to sound dirty.

We both felt real good and cleaned up afterward, ok?

The details, to my recollection, were that his body was flawless: smooth skin on his thighs and back, all the way to his graceful neck and drifted into soft hair, scented with shampoo. He was breathing on my chest, and that actually brings me to my reason for not being able to sleep. He was touching me.

Don’t get the wrong idea, I wasn’t a bag of raging hormones and his touch was not making me horny beyond belief. That’s not to say it wasn’t making me horny, cause it was—the problem was that I was so used to sleeping alone, I was physically unable to sleep with him touching me.

"Kris?"

"What?" I whispered to him.

"You want to go to prom with me?"

I chewed on my lower lip, wondering what I should do. I had already told him I would go, but was that the smart decision? After a moment’s hesitation, I realized that wherever Jake was, my place was by his side.

"Of course I’ll go."

"You wear the lacy underwear for me under your dress?" Jake mumbled. I responded by giving his exposed nipple a tweak. Jake jumped, giggling and pulled away from me.

"That wasn’t funny," I commented sourly.

"I liked what you did with my nipples earlier a lot better," Jake muttered as he lay his head down on his own pillow.

"Keep it up and you won’t get that again." We sat in silence in the shadows of his room. A small amount of light filtered through the curtains and reflected off the TV set in the corner. In between the curtains, snow was drifting down in silence.

"I love you, Kris," Jake said suddenly, no mumbling at all.

"You—I love you too, Jake," I replied. He had surprised me; I had almost repeated his statement as a question.

"Tomorrow, it’s gonna work out."

"I hope you’re right."

"I will be." Jake fell silent and I wondered if he had drifted off to sleep, when he broke the quiet again. "What do you want to do about Bryan?"

I rolled my eyes in the dark. He couldn’t think of a better time to discuss Bryan? Was I supposed to be more forgiving in the after-glow or something? I turned on my side to face him, the moonlight casting shadows over the front of his face.

"I don’t know what to think," I replied honestly. "Why do you want to talk about him now?"

"I just figured we should have a game plan for tomorrow. You know he’s sorry, and you know he’ll come around. Sometimes people do really dumb things. He’s done dumber things before."

I snorted. "Such as?"

"Well, he spray painted that he loved Jess on a highway overpass once. He did it with his legs tied together with rope and some asshole holding the other end so he didn’t break his damn fool head."

"Who would be dumb enough to hold the other end?"

"That would be his loyal best friend."

"You better mean JR."

"No, JR was in charge of lowering new cans of paint."

"What is wrong with you people?"

"You mean you wouldn’t be impressed if I wrote that I loved you on an overpass?"

"It’s a little redneck, Jake. I think I’d like dinner and some alone time a whole lot more."

"Maybe that’s why she got so pissed," Jake mused.

"You guys are impossible," I sighed.

"I have to get some paint thinner."

"Why? Oh, no, don’t tell me."

"Just kidding. But seriously, what are you going to do if he comes up to you to talk?"

"I don’t know. Do you think he will?"

"Probably. He counts you as a friend, so he’ll want you to know he’s sorry."

"What about you? What are you going to do?"

"If he apologizes, I’ll probably accept."

"Just like that?" I sat up and looked at him. "He just outed us, changed our lives! How can you be so casual?"

Jake rolled onto his back and pulled me down, resting my head on his chest. He began to stroke my hair as I listened to the beat of his heart.

"Bryan is many things, but a homophobe isn’t one of them. He did something stupid, and if he’s genuinely sorry like I expect he’ll be, then what choice do I have? He’s my best friend."

"So I have to forgive him?"

"No, you’re a different person. You don’t have to do anything just because I do."

"I don’t know how I feel about him right now."

"I know how I feel: hurt and disappointed." Jake sighed deeply, his chest rolling under me. I placed a hand on his flat stomach, rubbing the smooth skin. "But he made a mistake, and I know he’ll come to me to make it right. He’s made mistakes before, so have I. Forgiveness is a powerful thing, mends a lot of fences."

"How can you trust him now?" I said quietly.

"Because I know who he is, not what he was for five seconds."

"I wish I was as confident as you are."

"I wish I was brave as you are."

"I’m not brave."

"You came after me, that took some bravery."

I laughed. "I was pissed!"

"What?"

"Yeah, when you were being so dense I got pissed! I was like, no way he’s going to brush this off. You were so dingy!"

"Well, I was so shocked. I was sure you were into Bryan."

"I was, but I let him go because I loved him and it was the right thing to do."

"So you stopped loving him?"

I thought on that carefully, trying to analyze my feelings. I was mad, hurt, frustrated, and disappointed. But I still cared, and did that mean I still loved? More importantly, did that mean I would or should forgive?

I slept very little.

**

I woke by myself in Jake’s bed, his scent clear to me from his sheets and pillow. I buried my head in the pillow inhaling as I slowly woke. Voices could be heard in the kitchen, which Jake’s room very nearly opened into. I pulled the covers off me and grabbed my pants and shirt from the day before and dressed, before heading for the bathroom. As I crossed through the kitchen to reach the bathroom, Jake wolf-whistled at me. I shot him a look. As I closed the bathroom door, I could hear him talking.

"I’m marrying him for his looks, but not that one!" Two female voices burst out laughing. I washed my face and finger combed my hair before going into the kitchen.

"Coffee, Kris?" Jess asked me perkily. I nodded in silence as I took a seat next to Jake.

"Poor Kris, not a morning person are you?" Marla asked me. I merely shook my head. Since coming to live with my grandfather, I found it not only pleasant but necessary to have a cup of coffee in the morning. If I didn’t get my coffee, everyone would know it in short order.

Jake gave me a peck on the cheek and Jess cooed about how cute that was. I kept my eyes focused on the table until they registered a coffee cup, and then moved my hands almost in auto-pilot. I sipped the hot liquid and sighed deeply.

"He was sighing like that last night, too." Jake made a stage whisper to Jess. I punched his arm.

"Jacob!" his mother admonished.

"Ow! I guess you’re awake."

"Don’t push your luck. What time do we have to leave?"

I guess we can go whenever, the roads will be clear in a little bit, enough to drive anyway."

"What are you talking about?" I mumbled.

"Snow day; we got eight inches last night," Jess supplied.

I merely grunted and took another sip of my coffee. I guess that explains why Jess is here, instead of at home getting ready for school.

"Did Bryan call you last night?" Jess asked. I looked up to see Jake shaking his head.

"Figures, he was on the phone with me for hours," Jess sighed. "He kept apologizing but I told him that it’s not me he needs to apologize to. He was pretty upset with himself."

"I wasn’t exactly pleased." Jake said sourly.

"I’m really surprised at him. Didn’t he know about you for a while now, Jake?" his mom asked.

"No, not really. I came out to him one day after he had been over talking to this one," he nudged me, "and Bryan wanted to know what kind of a friend he was that he didn’t seem to know that much about me. He’s never been the most perceptive guy."

"You tell me this after you get me to date him?" Jess grumped.

"Hey, he’s still my best friend. He just did something stupid. Did you ever do something stupid, Jess?"

"Yeah, opening my mouth yesterday. But really, is he that dense as to not have seen any of those glances Kris was giving him?"

"Hey! I heard that!" I jumped in.

"Well, it’s the truth." Jess replied.

"Bryan was so focused on you, a wild boar could have been hell bent on humping him and he wouldn’t have noticed," Jake stated.

"The poet laureate of Fillmore Avenue," Marla snorted.

"Kris, would you still love me if I did something stupid?"

"After the way you joined forces with my grandfather in the car yesterday, you’re lucky I still speak to you."

"Well, Bryan did screw up big time. What are you guys going to do?" Jess asked. Marla looked at us with interest and Jake seemed to be deep in thought.

"We’ll need friends more than ever now. I won’t say I’m not mad, because I am. I won’t say I’m not scared, because I am. I thought about this a lot last night." I stared down into my coffee cup. "I can’t help that I still love him, despite what he’s done."

The table went silent after my statement, Jakes arm snaked around me and pulled me to him. We sat in relative silence until the phone rang and Marla went to answer it. I finished my coffee and Jake fixed me another while Jess beamed at us.

"What?" I asked.

"It’s just funny how things work out. Jake is kind of a pessimist if you didn’t know already."

"Jess," Jake said in a tone of warning.

"He was sure he was never going to find something to make him happy in this little backwater town. But look, he’s bringing you coffee and rubbing your back until you’re awake. Isn’t that so like a good wife?"

"That’s it!" Jake said imperiously while I giggled into my coffee. "You are no longer invited to the wedding!"

We giggled madly while Jake shook his head and smiled at us. His mom came back into the room and told Jake and me that we had to get ready and go to my house when the roads cleared up.

"I don’t think I want to go out in it, so maybe you should walk over."

"Jess, you drove didn’t you?" Jake asked her.

"Nope."

"Aww, man. Can’t I take the car mom?"

"No! It’s slippery, so I don’t think we should risk it. You’re young, walk! You don’t do that much around here so you probably need the exercise."

"Well, actually mom, I got a lot of exercise last…"

I think Jess and I kicked him at the same time. Isn’t she the coolest thing?

**

We trudged through the snow. Sidewalks not having been cleared, we stuck to the sides of the plowed roads. We talked a little about Bryan, being out and the somewhat distant prom. It’s funny, talking about the issues seemed to make them less scary. I knew we were still going to have to face people when we went back to school, but I wasn’t all that scared, at least not for me. I had taken all my father could dish out for so long, what was a couple of beat-downs from a high schooler?

We turned up the drive to back of my grandfather’s place and were hit by the sound of silence. Stepping into the bay there was no one working; even the coffee pot was off.

"Grandpa?" I called out. "I’m home."

"There’s a note on the coffee machine." Jake pointed and I walked over to get it.

"What do you suppose that’s all about?" Jake muttered.

"Can’t be anything good, that’s for sure."

We trudged back over to the house next door, the bane of my grandfather’s existence you might say. Classical music lilted from inside. I quickly decided that since this was making no sense, there was something bad in the works. Eleanor and my grandfather being friendly was bad enough, but being together in the same room with no yelling was downright scary.

We stepped up onto the enclosed front porch and worked to remove our shoes. The door to the interior opened and Eleanor stood before us a changed woman. Her hair was done up in some sort of thing that attempted style. A print dress that was flattering to her figure and some strategic make-up put her in the almost attractive stage. What was going on around here?

"At last, now we can get started with you two. Hurry up, coats on hooks and I’ll make some hot chocolate or tea if you prefer."

"Kris drinks coffee," my grandfather said from inside.

"That wasn’t one of the options given," Eleanor shot back at him.

"Well, shouldn’t broadening horizons include having more than what you like to drink on hand?"

"Henry, don’t start."

"I’m only saying!"

"Boys?" Eleanor arched an eyebrow at us. We both murmured that hot chocolate sounded just fine and we sat near my grandfather in the living room. Her house was surprising in that Eleanor struck me as an earthy, pleasant if rough woman. But her home was downright elegant, from the mellow glow of the hardwood floors to the chandelier in the dining room to the chaise lounge we were sitting on. Who’d a thought it?

"Grandpa, what gives?"

"Seems as though I have been, what did she call it?" His eyebrows scrunched together as if deep in thought. "Oh, yeah: derelict in my duty to you in the form of the fine arts."

"What?" I was incredulous and Jake sniggered.

"That’s right. A man’s education should be broad, well rounded, and not lacking in the finer things in life. You need culture!" Eleanor strode into the room.

"Well, that’s…"

"That is precisely why I have procured seats to the Pittsburgh Opera this weekend for a wonderful production of ‘Carmen’."

My jaw unhinged and Jake burst out laughing. My grandfather looked a mixture of amused, irritated, and something I can’t quite place. Admiration maybe? No, couldn’t be.

"I don’t know what you find so funny, you’ll be escorting Kristopher as his date for the evening." Eleanor fixed Jake in her sights, and he suddenly wasn’t amused anymore.

"I don’t think…" I began.

"Exactly, and this will assist you by having a glorious amount of new information on which your mind can draw! Imagine, Seville in the eighteen hundreds. A beautiful gypsy woman has her sights set on a handsome military man!" She appeared to look into a distance that held more for her than the lace curtains we could see held for us.

"The whole thing, as I understand it, is some bitch drives a poor guy insane," My grandfather commented sourly.

"That is not the truth at all." Eleanor fixed him with a stern look before turning to us. "Carmen is a strong believer in fate. She is sure she is in love with the soldier, and gets herself arrested in order to be escorted to jail by him. Then she turns on the charm and gets him to let her go, knowing she loves him. He ends up going to jail for releasing her."

My grandfather harrumphed.

"Upon his release he goes to her, tells her he has been thinking of her and that is all that sustained him. She then keeps him from the army and makes him into a renegade, a smuggler like herself. But then, the real drama starts!" Eleanor stepped over to the stereo and a sensual, pretty piece of music flowed from the speakers, enveloping us as she told the story.

"This song is called Habanera, and Carmen sings it. She’s telling the soldier that love is like a bird, you cannot cage it. If you want it to stay, it will leave because love only goes where it wants to, stays for as long as it cares to, and leaves when it is ready."

"Sounds like my cue to go," my grandfather stood.

"Grandpa, sure you don’t need any help?"

"Nonsense, I’ll get your chocolate. It should be ready now." Eleanor left the room and my grandfather eyed us.

"She thinks you need more education, and I can’t find a thing wrong with education and life experiences, no matter how much it pains me to agree with her. So you sit and learn something."

"Do you have to leave us alone?" I pleaded.

"I’d feel the same way if I were you, but it’s too much fun to watch you squirm." He grinned at me and ducked out the front door. So now I was fit to dangle to his mortal enemy as a joke? Revenge, oh yes, revenge will be had. Eleanor was upon us again and she picked up the threads of her story.

"So now Carmen finds herself in love with a bullfighter and the soldier is very upset, as you might imagine. But she is adamant; it’s over between them and she is going to be with this bullfighter. The famous Toreador song happens in here — I’m sure you all know that one," and she began to hum a tune that did sound familiar to me.

"Now, things happen fast here. The soldier warns her not to go to the bullfights with this fellow, but Carmen reads her Tarot cards and says she is fated to go. So she does, and the soldier waits outside for her and kills her.

"Now this was a first for the opera; before this point no one had died on stage before, much less the heroine. This was too much for the main opera house, and so Carmen debuted at the Opera Comique. There is a lot of beautiful music in this opera, and if you watch a tape of it so you’ll be more familiar with it. I’m sure you’re going to enjoy it."

"We’ll, I’d sure like to," Jake began.

"You will. I’ll speak to your mother, have no fear."

We sat in stunned silence. "Look, I know you aren’t getting any culture from that old goat, unless it’s from the ring in his bathtub. Trust me when I say this will make you a more well rounded man," she said to me. I just sat feeling railroaded and wondering when I had lost control of things. I looked at Jake and he seemed stunned, lost in perhaps the same thoughts I was having.

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