The Tull Unification: Wyatt Beltane

By Dabeagle

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When I returned from my run my parents had already left for work. I let myself in, my body slicked with sweat and feeling completely gross, and showered before having a protein shake. A completely dissatisfying protein shake. It had a taste, I couldn't say it didn't, but I could tell you it wasn't a good one. Dressing in jeans and a polo, I snagged my running gear for practice later and started the walk to school.

The bus came out my way, but through a quirk of the school district map, I didn't qualify for a bus ride. I was used to it and simply plugged my headphones in and tuned out of the world. The beat through my headphones set the tone for my feet, a steady march that got me right where I needed to be. I arrived with time to spare, enjoying the fact that I'd been able to apply order to my morning, order where chaos was the norm of my daily life. Order was something I understood and something I found calming and very few things were as calming and regular as a steady pace over the earth.

I breezed through my Monday, my homework having been done Friday night, and was feeling pretty much in control of things – which should have been a warning sign. Chaos looms in everything and we all spend untold hours of our lives applying order to it. Rules, laws, routines – all fed into the same basic desire to create order and sense from chaos. Really cute guys were definitely chaotic.

I'd had no problem accepting how I felt – in fact I felt triumphant about it since I'd managed to identify what I was interested in and left out all that annoying uncertainty. The problem was the objects of my affection were a little less certain, other than making me perpetually horny. It was no use explaining that horny wasn't the same as sexuality.

So I'd spent the time since my awakening waiting for potential guys to mature into creatures that could have a relationship. Ideally, a relationship with me. I had to admit to myself, though, I was getting tired of waiting. My list of candidates kept falling all over each other, both sexes, like animals in heat. There was no organization...and then chaos. I'd been told it was a learning process, learning what you liked and wanted but I was lucky since I already knew. I wanted respect, balance between us and a like mind in a package that was...stimulating. To paraphrase Robin Williams, I wanted mind as well as head.

My timing always seemed to be off, though, as to when that magical moment would be achieved. Matt Baxter was at the top of my list – and still is, in some ways – after he did some maturing. Peter 'The Horny Pimple' August showed him what he didn't want, and after a few misfires I thought he was prime for a strong relationship. We had one, to be sure, being decent friends the last few years, but just when I was ready to try and take things up a few notches with him this other guy, Nick, swooped in and now Matt is all blissful and shit.

I was happy for him, or tried to be, but I certainly felt like it was a lost opportunity. I think, in the end, I was too coy and that's what doomed me. Since I'd never come out publicly, Matt hadn't known I was available. I honestly don't know if it would have changed things - maybe I wasn't on his radar in terms of that - but I'd like to think it could have. I still had Matt as a friend, and he did tell me about the GSA meetings which, unbeknownst to him, kept me up on all the new folks that came out or were questioning. It let me keep my feelers out while minimizing my own risk.

I was able to think about this rationally until chaos came into my careful construct, and that happened on Monday in the form of Colin McIlduff. Cute guys are, by their very nature, chaotic. They break up my plan of waiting for someone to reach where I am, to realize that chasing every cute face isn't productive. The problem is it changes everything when a new one comes into play. One that is undefined and unknown. Chaos.

I don't know what really held me about this new guy. He wasn't over the top in his appearance; in a way he was kind of slacker-like with his hoodie – skater-ish even. Not really my type, but as he made his way down the aisle to take a desk, his hand strayed up and pushed the hood down to reveal brownish-red hair that was styled nicely, as though he took the time and then, oddly, covered it up. He ended up in the seat next to me and I decided to test him.

“Hey, do you have an extra pen?” I asked.

“Uh, yeah, hang on,” he said and reached into his messenger bag and handed me a blue pen.

“Thanks,” I replied with a smile.

He was prepared by having a spare, he was organized because he could reach right in and grab the pen with no searching, and he was generous, having given a stranger something of his. He'd already moved high on my list when he smiled at me briefly, to tell me I was welcome, before facing the front of the room. But in the smile he'd revealed, for a moment, dimples. His physical attraction for me climbed much higher and, while I was excited about the possibility he presented, I was also in turmoil due to the chaos he represented.

I had my top choices, painstakingly achieved through careful measurement of my classmates. Unfortunately one of the critical criteria, that being they were interested in guys, was almost always one of the last things to be discovered. I could measure kindness, practicality and maturity to some degree just by watching them or through some interaction. I was waiting for those I found attractive to mature and be ready for an actual relationship. But now my list was disjointed as I wondered where – or if – this fellow belonged on it.

I was distressed to find that he filled my thoughts at inconvenient times. I noted throughout the day that I had to mark reading material down that I'd have to cover again at home because he'd intruded on my thoughts, unbidden. I lifted weights in gym, my last class, and did so mechanically as my mind kept - annoyingly – returning to this new puzzle. I mused about him as I ran that afternoon, staying with the pack but not speaking.

I say I mused, but more than anything else I speculated. Was what I'd seen any indication that he could be the guy I was hoping for? In frustration I realized that I was spinning my mental wheels because I lacked information, so I turned my mind to figuring out how to get data. I knew he wouldn't be in the school registry since he was new, so that night I did a Facebook search, then Twitter and other services. I even tried a Google search, all to no avail. He remained a mystery to me, an unknown, and I hate that.

I observed him the following day, when possible, and came up short on details. He didn't know anyone and didn't seek out contact. I returned his pen to him in class and he thanked me, returning it to his bag. He flashed the dimples again as he thanked me, and I blanked for a moment on what I was supposed to be doing. He was interfering with my routine; I needed to quantify him and fast. As it was he was causing a lot more chaos to my equilibrium than any other guy I can think of. Of course, none of them had those dimples.

At least Tuesday night I could focus more on my schoolwork, since I'd already tried seeking him out online. I was confident that, had he been online I'd have found him and I told myself that repeatedly until I believed myself. Sort of. I did recall that the GSA was meeting tomorrow and decided to make sure I spoke to Matt to see if Colin attended.

I was annoyingly antsy all day Wednesday. I was frustrated at my inability to focus, except upon the outcome of my little test. Of course, the flaw was that he may not show up which could mean several things. He wasn't gay, he wasn't out, he didn't want to out himself so soon after coming to a new school...the list was very nearly endless and the mere speculation was driving me insane. For what, I wonder? It couldn't all be the dimples, could it? I'd have to think on that.

“Wyatt, what's up?” Matt asked as I sat down for lunch. The table was populated with his boyfriend, Nick, and some of their friends from the GSA that I didn't know well. There was the perpetually chatty one, the one whose boyfriend had passed earlier this year and one who, I thought, was a lesbian.

“Not much, history test sixth period – are you ready?” I said as I sat and picked over my lunch.

“I don't think it will be too bad,” Matt replied absently. Matt was never focused on his schoolwork and, though he seemed smart, I wondered what kind of grades he got.

“You're on the track team, aren't you?” the chatty girl asked. “I thought I saw you at wrestling, too, is that right? Matt plays basketball - you'd probably be good there. Oh, Emily, babbling!” she said miserably while putting a hand to her forehead.

“Yes, wrestling and track. I don't have the height for basketball, I don't think,” I replied. She had a bad habit of running off at the mouth. It wasn't very attractive – oh hell. Was she attracted to me?

“Guards can be short and play,” Matt said, nudging me. I smiled at him.

“Matt, you should be recruiting your boyfriend,” I said while nodding towards Nick.

“Nope, I've no coordination. Completely lost cause here,” Nick replied with a smile and a shake of his head. Kind of humble – I could see why that would be attractive, aside from the fact that he actually was attractive, of course.

“Meeting today, Matt?” I asked. I hoped to steer things away from Emily and avoid any potential discussion of her – real or imagined – interest in me.

“Oh yeah, every Wednesday,” he said while forming a smile on his face that could only be described as sly. “Peter has been asking after you.”

“Will you stop trying to pawn your leftovers on me?” I snapped. Matt didn't know I was gay, as I hadn't told anyone, but the insinuation hit too close to home.

“Hey, don't talk to him like that!” Nick replied sharply.

“He needs to stop with the 'Peter' bullshit; he knows I don't like it,” I said while fixing my gaze on Matt.

“Okay, chill, it was just a joke. I'm sorry.”

“You should come to a meeting,” Emily piped up.

“Excuse me?” I asked and, mentally, felt my jaw drop.

“Well, unless you're just asking about something Matt cares about to be polite, you should come to a meeting. After all, Peter aside, you are an ally to gays. Right?” asked the one that I thought was a lesbian.

“Of course. I mean, yes, I'm in favor of equality. Who wouldn't be? I'm not sure about a meeting, though.”

“Put up or shut up,” she replied.

“Well, I have a meet today but – perhaps – next week,” I stammered.

“I'll be looking for you,” she smiled. I decided then that lesbians are evil and must be watched as agents of chaos.

Tull

“You want to tell me what the hell that was?” my father demanded.

Obviously, my performance at the meet was to be critiqued. “I had an off day,” I replied weakly. Even I didn't buy into that and I knew it wasn't going to stop anything that was to follow.

“An off day? No. You let your team down, and they were depending on you today,” he said calmly. “Men have to compartmentalize and get the job done and you didn't do that today. When it's time to go to work, school, girls and movies – none of that matters.”

I noted, to myself, that he hadn't mentioned boys so perhaps that was okay, as a distraction.

“What was weighing so heavy on your mind?”

I blanked and my mouth went without me, dumping me into chaos. “A friend wanted me to go to the GSA meeting at school, today. I told them I had a meet, but they kind of made me feel...like I was intolerant.”

“Well, you know that isn't true. Why does it bother you?” he asked as we stopped for a light.

“She kind of challenged me to show up next week.”

“So? You go, what's the big deal?”

“If I go...” I trailed off and looked out the window.

“If you go, people will think you're gay?”

I turned back to look at him, my disciplined, masculine, man's man father. He was flicking his attention from the road to me, waiting. I knew what I had to do, I knew I had to be a man – like he'd expect. I took a deep breath.

“Yeah, it's what they'd think,” I said and paused before plunging forward, “And it's true.”

“So? What's the problem then?”

“Well...”

“No, no hesitation. This isn't a hard decision,” he said while holding his hand up. “You own who you are, no matter what it is. Don't act like you're ashamed or something stupid like that.”

“It's not that,” I said, slightly dazed. This was not the way I thought this would happen. Then again, my parents were practical and took things as they were.

“So? What is it then?”

“Because then it's a mess!” I said in frustration. “I keep all that stuff private, waiting for someone to be mature enough to have a relationship without acting like a raging bag of hormones and this new guy comes in and – I don't even know him – but I feel totally out of control! My routine is broken, my concentration sucks!” I threw my hands up, then slapped them uselessly on my thighs.

“Wyatt,” my dad said with a sigh. “Son, I know I've hammered it into you about control and routine, but you have to remember that you're human. I know,” he said raising a hand again to my open mouth, “I know I've told you – not less than thirty seconds ago – that you have to compartmentalize and I stand by that. Even if you're crushing on some boy, you have set priorities to get the job done whether it be homework or on the field.

“But let's be real, here. The level of maturity you say you're after? Two words, son – high school. Those raging hormones you mentioned? It's why you can't concentrate. Maybe you need to masturbate more.”

“Dad!” I covered my face.

“It's a fact. It'll take the edge off and it's healthy. Now,” he continued as if I hadn't spoken, “assuming this kid shows, you go to that meeting and you talk to this boy. See if you have things in common, see what he's like. You can't tell by pining at a distance.”

“But...”

“But nothing! Look, the worst thing that happens is he says he isn't interested! We all get rejected, son, and you have to deal with that too.”

“How can I stay in control if I don't know ahead of time if he's even gay?” I asked.

“Control is a flexible thing, son. Control doesn't mean you set everything up so you can't possibly fail – nothing is perfect. Control is how you handle things, how you manage yourself. If he says 'sorry, I like girls', then that's no reflection on you – just that he isn't attracted to your gender. Yes, you'll feel sad and you need to do that so you can learn from it. Everything teaches us something and it adds to our control of ourselves and our understanding of things around us. Never be afraid to be who you are and never be ashamed. If someone doesn't like who you are, it's on them. If they didn't like what you did or said, then you can think about whether you did something wrong.”

If that was the case, I thought, I had misunderstood some of the lessons on control and organization. “Shouldn't I do my homework on him first?”

“It doesn't hurt, if you want to increase your chances. I think you should talk to him before you ask him out, try and get to know him. That's what dating is for, but on a deeper level than just hanging out.” He pulled into our driveway and turned the car off. Looking at the steering wheel he said, “Don't pass up on a possible good thing just because you're afraid. Then, you only get left with regrets.”

“What if it doesn't work out?” I asked softly.

“Doesn't matter. Knowing is always better than wondering 'what if?'”

I showered and then joined my parents for dinner. I was quiet, contemplating his words, but I wasn't going to be left to my ruminations.

“Dad said you had a rough day at the meet,” my mom said as she filled my plate.

“Yeah, I was distracted,” I admitted.

“What about?” she asked idly. I glanced at my father who gave me the slightest nod.

“A boy.”

“Oh? Is someone giving you a hard time? You didn't have to fight, I hope.”

“No, nothing like that. I like him and...I'm hoping he will like me too.”

She handed me my plate and proceeded to fill her own. “What's his name?” She didn't even raise an eyebrow, no knowing smirk – it was almost as if we'd had this conversation before and it wasn't worth commenting on the fact that we actually hadn't. Like I said before, pragmatic parents.

“Colin. Colin McIlduff.”

“Is he new or someone you've had your eye on for a while?”

“New, he started the other day.” I said before filling my mouth with food.

“What do you like about him?” she asked before forking a spear of broccoli.

“So far,” I said with some nervousness, “the way he looks, that he's organized and generous enough to share with others.” I recounted my story about borrowing the pen, but I couldn't bring myself to speak of the dimples.

She asked what I was going to do about it and, satisfied with the plan to visit the meeting the following week, she moved on to other subjects. I felt a little queasy and elated as well for the ease of coming out. I knew, in my heart of hearts, that I'd been worried about my father's reaction since he seemed so macho. But they were both great, not fussing and not disappointed and not over the top happy for me. It just was and, I thought, that's as it should be. So I had a pretty good attitude going into the weekend. I went with my parents and cousins to a water park, and that's where I started sweating my decision. Colin was there – with two older guys. Did this mean he had dads? Or was this something else? Something sinister? He seemed happy enough and, holy crap, he looked hot.

In fact that was all I could think of that night and the following day. His skin wet and glistening in the sunshine coupled with his smile and laughter that brought forth the all-important dimples just sent my imagination into overdrive. The difference was, I'd tried to restrict my natural urges before. I'd erroneously thought I was mastering myself when, all along it seems, I was just being foolish. Now, the floodgates – so to speak – were open and I felt that Wednesday couldn't come fast enough.

Tull

I couldn't take my eyes off him on Monday. Everything seemed special – his walk, the way he held his pen, the scrawls on the front of his notebook. Of course, chiefly, there was his shy smile and the mighty dimples. In the end, it was the dimples I blame, not myself. Clearly I suffered some form of temporary insanity when I took his phone.

Now, to be clear, I didn't accost him and steal it nor did I pick his pocket. Instead, as we sat in class, it tumbled from the pocket of his hoodie and fell on top of his back pack before taking a slide, near noiselessly, in my direction. With the quickest glance to be sure no one noticed, I slid my foot out and dragged the phone under me, but dared not retrieve it until after the class had ended. I don't know what I was thinking, I had no clear plan, other than the thrill of having possession of one of his possessions.

After the bell rang I pocketed the phone and headed to my next class. It was burning a hole through my pocket and searing my skin. I felt guilty for taking it and thrilled to have an item that belonged to him. Now that I had it, what to do with it? I obviously couldn't keep it. I turned it over in my head, realizing at last that this could turn out very badly. In a moment of stupidity I'd become a thief and perpetrated that on someone I wanted to get to know. My cheeks burned with shame and I mentally cursed my hormones, which surely must have been responsible.

But then, an idea. I could salvage this and, possibly, make something positive come from it. Was I smart enough? Could I pull it off? I asked for a hall pass to the bathroom and headed out, making a conscious effort not to run. Once safely ensconced in a stall I pulled out the phone with sweaty hands. This was Colin's. Stupid! The plan! I shook myself and woke the device, swiping the screen and was intensely relieved to see it had no password. I opened the texting app and sent a message to my number, ensuring that I could get in touch with him now. I then deleted the evidence and switched it back off.

Now, all I had to do was return it and then text him later as a secret admirer. I felt exceedingly smug as I strolled back to class, very pleased with my salvaging of the situation. My confidence only grew when I saw him sitting with Matt at lunch. He looked a tad distraught, but then I knew I could make his day much better in a flash.

“They just gave it to me, though! They're going to be so pissed,” Colin said as he put his hands on his forehead. “They'll never trust me if I can't take care of stuff!”

I saw my opening and pounced. Gracefully, I might add. “Hi guys.” Then I turned to Colin. “Hey, you dropped this in first period today. I was going to turn it into the office -”

“My phone!” Colin exclaimed as he reached out. I dropped it in his hand and he switched it on, verifying that it worked and there was no damage. “Thank you! Holy shit I was freaking out!”

The shitty feeling I had about causing this to begin with was overwhelmed by enjoying his relief and gratitude. Now that I thought on that, it was kind of perverse.

“No problem,” I replied. “I saw it drop out of your pocket, but by the time I picked it up and looked for you, you were gone.”

“First period...oh, yeah, English class,” he smiled, hitting me squarely with the dimples. “I remember, you asked for a pen my first day.”

It was impossible to miss Matt's eyebrow going up. Shit! He knew damn well I'd never show up to class sans pen and a spare any more than I'd show up for school sans pants.

“Yes, the pen. It was a screwy day – one leaked in my bag and the second must have been old as it just wouldn't write. You saved my bacon!” I said with a chuckle as I sat down. It dawned on me I was sitting next to Colin and I felt my palms grow sweaty again while my eyes checked Matt to see if I'd gotten away with it. Hormones are a terrible curse - just today they've turned me into a thief and a liar.

“I'll carry an extra for you from now on, just in case!” Colin said while examining his phone. “I'd have been in so much trouble...I don't even want to think what could have...” He trailed off and I went back to wondering about his home life and if those were his dads or something less savory – or if he simply had a shitty home life. I speculated on that throughout lunch, limiting myself to listening to the conversation. Colin had reached his peak animation with the return of the phone and was quite taciturn for the rest of the period.

I listened to the chatter and kept an eye on the evil lesbian, but everything else was normal. Except Matt, I'd caught him more than once giving me a thoughtful look. Perhaps he was smarter than I'd given him credit for and this would be a lousy time to find that out. I walked the rest of the day with a spring in my step and smile on my lips, and felt exceptionally good at practice. There was some grumbling that I should have run the meet as well as I had run today, but today I was...what? Optimistic I guess. I'd never fallen in love before, never allowed myself. Could this be the beginning of that?

I lay in bed after dinner listening to music. Of course my homework was done already, but now my full attention was on the phone and the text I'd sent myself. What could I say? I couldn't say that I'd gotten his number from a mutual friend. It was bad enough, after all, that I'd stolen his phone and panicked him, but to start conversing with a lie? I thought about it and thought about it until I decided to go with playful, something to lower his defenses and yet let him know he was being flirted with. I worked up the courage and started entering text.

'Hey...there's 21 letters in the alphabet, right?' I waited, keeping my screen alive and tapping my foot to the music. I wiggled restlessly, suddenly unable to get comfortable. I got up and padded down to the kitchen to get a drink and a snack. As I started the microwave for popcorn my phone buzzed.

'No. There's 26, but I had to stop and count in my head.'

I smiled and leaned back on the counter. He hadn't asked who this was and he'd said it was a new phone, so chances were he'd given his number to a few people and this would go on for a bit before I had to go all 'secret admirer' on him. I keyed in a response.

'Oh, I forgot U, R, A, Q, T.'

I rolled my eyes, the line being far too cheesy. I also felt my cheeks heating up and my heart rate increase. I was flirting! With Colin, he of the dimples! I snagged my popcorn and went back to my room and lay back down to wait for the phone to vibrate. It did, moments later.

'Cute, Matt. Keep it up and I'll tell Nick on you :-)'

He thought I was Matt! I chuckled and debated if it were smart to not disabuse him of his notion that he was talking to Matt. I could spring the whole mystery thing now, but was there an advantage? Or was there more opportunity to learn about him if I let the charade go on? My phone vibrated.

'I hope Nick didn't fall for that, you never did mention how you got him.'

I frowned as Colin had known Matt less than a week, it seemed unlikely but possible that he'd already covered the 'how we met' story. On the other hand, if he hadn't I could be walking into a trap. I decided to avoid answering the question and change the course of the conversation.

'Did you mention you lost your phone today?'

Of course there was no earthly reason why he should have; I certainly couldn't see anything to be gained by that bit of honesty. Still, it changed the subject.

'No, I'd be too afraid.'

I crunched some of my snack and left him to wait and my patience was rewarded seconds later.

'Matt, I haven't told you but I'm a foster child.'

I sat up. Oh, this wasn't good. I felt an emotion I recognized as guilt wrapped in fear. I wanted to get to know him, but I didn't want him to spill his secrets, especially since he thought he was talking to someone he clearly thought was a friend. I stated tapping quickly, but my phone buzzed again.

'My foster dad wants to adopt me. I'm not sure, but I think I want that too and don't want to upset him. I'm afraid if I'd lost the phone he'd think I was irresponsible and not want me.'

Oh. Fuck. I felt my body flush and sweat forming on my skin. This was terrible, horrible! Why had I ever thought this was a good idea? I should turn this off now – but no! I can't! He'd go to Matt tomorrow in confusion and I couldn't do that to him. I decided to worry about the 'Matt' part later and address his fears now.

'I don't think that would happen; people lose stuff all the time. Hell, they have a cell commercial out now that shows people dropping their phones in food, toilets...'

I waited, knowing I needed to tell him and yet, a part of me was excited and overwhelmed all at once to get this glimpse into his world, his life and his thinking. Why was he up for adoption? Where were his birth parents and why didn't they want him? Or did they die? Holy shit, what if that was the case? Poor Colin!

'Yeah, maybe. I didn't want to be adopted, before. Now, I don't know...I just know I don't want to leave. Kind of scares me.'

I responded quickly.

'They'd be nuts to not want you.'

'Matt, are you flirting again? I was serious about telling Nick.'

Moment of truth time. I pressed the keys, hovered over the icon to send my message and, exhaling, pressed it.

'I'm not Matt. You have a secret admirer, Colin.'

I finished my popcorn. Then my drink. My play list ended and there was still no response from Colin. Had I just cocked it all up? Shit. Do I dare to text again? Should I wait? Maybe I just came across like a creep, which made sense in reflection. I smacked my forehead: stupid, stupid, stupid!

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