Chapter 2

Presently, Aiden still looks good. The thirty-four year old version of him features the same green eyes and similarly unkempt brown hair that works on him. It’s a mess that looks intentional. And when he smiles at me, I get that same tingle I got that night sixteen years ago. It wasn’t appropriate to crush on my roommate back in college. Is it appropriate now? I can tamp down my feelings, can’t I? Was this whole thing a big mistake?

Thirty four looks good on him. He still has his athletic build. I wonder if he still plays football. Maybe some neighborhood team thing. Or maybe he just spends some time in the gym. I pay fifteen dollars a month for a gym membership that I hardly use.

I notice that he is in socks, so I step out of my shoes, leaving them by the door, next to his. His are multiple sizes bigger than mine. I had a virtual tour of the apartment on Skype, but now I get a real life tour. We sit on his chenille sofa and start to catch up.

I tell him about how I am a high school English teacher for a school in the city. The pay is just okay Рhence my need for a roommate Рbut I love working with the kids. I explain that I had been living with my best friend, Vivian, for the last five years but six months ago, she got engaged. Something had to give so I decided to make it easy for her. I moved out and let her fianc̩ move in.

I say, “There is something else I need to tell you. I can almost guarantee that it will have pretty much zero effect on your life as I have no social life to speak of, but I thought it was only fair that I tell you from the beginning.”

He gasps, “Are you a werewolf or a vampire?”

I chuckle, “No. But I am gay.”

His eyes widen for just a split second but then he rallies. He says, “Cool.”

I shrug, “It is what it is. And what it is is mostly irrelevant. I’ve been on like three dates in twelve years.”

Why? What gay man wouldn’t be the luckiest guy in the city to be dating Aiden? Maybe he could benefit from some of my gentle nudging, like I used to do back in college.

He tells me all about the school he teaches at, the underprivileged kids he helps and the fulfillment his work brings him. As he talks, he exudes a confidence I don’t recall from the eighteen year old version of him. This is a man who is doing what he was meant to be doing. It might never make him wealthy but something tells me he could care less.

He also tells me about his sister and his parents who are still in Portland and he mentions that he spends all day every Sunday with them. Then he fills me in on his best friend Vivian who now has a lot less time for him since her engagement.

He asks, “What led to your search for a roommate?”

I clear my throat, “I was ready for a change. I’d been living in the same apartment for all five years I’ve lived here and I wanted something nicer and closer to work. Nicer and closer to work means more expensive and while I might be able to make ends meet…”

“A roommate could give you some wiggle room,” he finishes my thought. “This is a great apartment. So you lived alone at your last place?”

I swallow, “Actually I didn’t. Well, not out of necessity. It was a choice. We were in a long-term relationship. Not long ago, it ended.”

Aiden touches my forearm, “I’m so sorry.”

“Well, I was too. It took too long to discover that we wanted different things. We mutually decided to go our separate ways. And now I’m thirty four and starting over. Again.”

He squeezes my arm, “Starting over is better than never having started.”

“It’s not that different than how we were at the start of college.”

He looks around the room theatrically, you don’t have a bean bag chair in here, do you?”

I laugh, “No way. Those are lethal.”

He laughs too. Then his smile fades, “Do you want to talk about your break up? Five years is a long time. I don’t mean to pry. What was her name?”

I look him right in the eye, “Colvin. His name was Colvin.”

I am floored when he tells me his long-term relationship was with someone named Colvin. He holds my eye and says, “I’m gay too. Always have been.”

He goes on to explain that being on the football team was reason enough to not come out until after college. I ask him when he told his family and he says that he told his mom five years ago when he and Colvin moved in together. As for his dad, they haven’t spoken in over twenty years. It’s a moot point. He offers no further insight so I don’t pry.

He asks me about my coming out party and I tell him that my sister has known since high school – twins tell each other everything – and I also told my parents about five years ago. I say, “I think they’re in a permanent state of denial that I actually enable because of the simple fact that I have never had a boyfriend. I make it easy for them. It’s not real. It’s just words. I can say anything. I could say that I’m into cheetahs, but until I bring one home to meet the family, it means nothing.”

He looks me dead in the eye, “I’m more of a dog person than a cat person and as your roommate, I get a vote. No cheetahs.”

I tell him, “You know how I said I’m busy with family on Sundays?”

“Well, we do generally have Sunday night dinner together, but I spend the day on Sundays with my nephews. Austin is twelve and Brody is eight. They’ve had a tough couple of years and I try to help my sister out.”

“By giving her a few hours off on the weekend?”

“No. By being a positive male role model. My sister is a single mom.”

“Did the father—?”

“He’s out of the picture, which is for the best. He and my sister got married right when Austin was born. They were only twenty-two. He seemed like a standup guy. He made decent money working construction and by the time Brody was born, it seemed like they were the perfect family. Two years ago he, Jared, was laid off. He didn’t take it well. Over the period of a year, he slowly lost his mind. He was unrecognizable as the husband and father we knew him to be. The divorce went through nine months ago. The kids are still adjusting.”

“Do they resent you? Do they think you’re trying to replace their father?”

“I’ve been in their lives since they were born. I’m Uncle Aiden. They know exactly who I am.”

“When you say they know exactly who you are…”

I nod, “I told them about three months ago.”

“I bet it was the easiest coming out convo of your life. Say what you want about kids today but they are generally compassionate and inclusive.”

“True story. I’m not sure that I would have been ready to hear that news from my uncle when I was in third grade twenty six years ago, but eight year old Brody didn’t bat an eye. In fact, he told me all about his classmates Suzie who has two dads and Ronnie and Grace who each have two moms. It’s totally not news to him.”

Leopold looks wistful, “It’s a different world. If we were starting college today instead of sixteen years ago, I would have been out. Football team or not. They wouldn’t care.”

I wonder what our friendship would have been like if we had been out with each other at age eighteen. Probably nothing would have been different. The popular ripped athlete with the sculpted body of an Adonis wouldn’t have given his scrawny roommate a second glance.

It’s been a month and living with Aiden has been great. I knew it would be easy; it was for nine months way back when. We’ve worked out schedules and systems for the bathroom, cleaning and making dinner. We watch ballgames and movies together in the evenings. And he’s out all day on Sundays, just like he said he would be.

It’s a Friday night at the end of a long week. The movie playing on my 60 inch flatscreen is not interesting enough to keep Aiden from drifting off. The third time his head falls and jerks back up, I laugh and tell him to go to bed.

“9:00 is too early for bed. It’ll mess up my sleep schedule for a week.”

I snort, “And sleeping on the couch is different how?”

“It just is. Besides, I wasn’t sleeping.”

I poke him in the ribs and he jumps. “You were totally out.”

“Keep me awake,” he says. “At least until the end of the movie.”

I pick up his feet and put them in my lap. I say, “Fine. You sleep, I tickle.”

He squirms and his tired eyes get wider than they’ve been all evening, “There’s a proper motivator.”

Suddenly he’s not so sleepy anymore. Does that mean Aiden is afraid to be tickled? So much so that he is scared and now wide awake? If he doesn’t drift off again, I won’t find out. At least not tonight.

But as we watch the movie, my hands rest on his shins. I used to always pull Colvin’s feet in my lap when we watched movies at home. I would give him a nice foot rub that would last an hour. It feels nice to have the weight of a pair of feet in my lap again. Aiden seems to have nice feet. I’ve only seen them with socks on so far – I think he’s modest about his body. Even after a morning shower, he emerges from the bathroom fully dressed for the day. When I finish a shower, I walk back to my room with a towel cinched around my waist. Who cares? We’re just a couple of guys.

But tonight my hands have a mind of their own. I don’t know when it started or how long it’s been going on, but in a state of autopilot, my hands are massaging Aiden’s feet. It was just such a familiar situation. I didn’t even realize it until he let out a soft moan that I’m sure embarrassed him. And now I’m embarrassed too. But stopping would embarrass him more, right? So I do the only thing I can do. I strip off his socks and massage his feet in earnest, like it’s the most normal thing in the world, until the movie is over.

Some things about Leopold have not changed in adulthood. Just like in college, he has the body of an athlete and he does not mind displaying it. He vacuums shirtless. He says he gets hot otherwise. Okay. He cooks shirtless. He says he doesn’t own an apron and he doesn’t want to deal with splatter stains. Fine. He sleeps in the nude. I was more embarrassed than he was to learn this the night that we both needed a bottle of water at three AM. I was in a pair of boxer briefs and an undershirt while he was stark naked and illuminated as he stood in front of the open refrigerator door. He said the same thing that night that he said to me sixteen years ago, “We’re just dudes.” Right.

On Tuesday night, he makes a lovely seared salmon for dinner. I’m helping him clean up after when he says, “I owe you a long overdue apology.”

“At the end of freshman year, I never really told you about my plans to room with someone else.”

“I had no expectations,” I tell him. “I mean, as freshmen we were assigned to each other but by year two you had your choice. I always assumed you’d choose a teammate. I wasn’t surprised and you certainly don’t owe me an apology.”

“I still felt like I ghosted you, before ‘ghosting’ was a thing.” He bumps his shoulder into mine, “I liked rooming with you. Actually, I liked it way more than with my idiot teammate the next year. I know that I was no angel in college, but this asshole sucked. I felt more like his parent than his friend.” He says, “That’s how you felt about me, wasn’t it?”

I grin, “You weren’t that bad.”

“But you were the good influence I sometimes needed.” He closes the dishwasher, “This is feeling like one of our old late night talks.”

“So, instead of the Trail Blazers game, let’s have one of those talks tonight,” I say. “Except we both work in the morning, so let’s not wait until midnight. Besides, you’ll be naked by midnight.”

He snorts, “Shut up.”

We move to the sofa, leaving the TV off. He says, “Alright. We’ll take turns asking each other questions. Me first. Why did you wait so long to ‘tell’ your family?”