Chapter 17 – Chapter 17

Chapter Seventeen

The Principal protected Steve and the Lustigs. For all anyone at PHS knew, I was a crazed stalker who had gotten what I deserved and then thrown a fit until Steve's avengers were themselves victimized.

I didn't care. Lori had been correct. My status at PHS was where it had always been, at the bottom with the dregs.

Steve was again gone from my life. He had not appreciated my candor with Principal Barnes, a self-centered turnabout that I found ripe. He had betrayed me, yet he was the one who was claiming I had betrayed him.

Henry was also gone. Mr. Kamler had replaced him. It was clear he was smitten with my mother. And that she was smitten him. Where things with Henry had been fraught, things with Michael were easy and uncluttered. It was thrilling to see.

The town was agog over it. Mr. Kamler was the object of everyone's affection, and my mother had captured his. She went from being a threat to being the object of envy.

I did not. I remained a threat, the victim who used my victimization to destroy PHS from the inside.

I could not believe how ignorant people were. They were like the people who blamed the abused woman for staying, or the victim's clothing for her brutal rape. It was the antelope's fault the tiger attacked. It was the deer's fault the hunter shot.

I grew calloused to it all. I had Lori and, now, Mr. Kamler. He was as attentive to me as he always had been and as he was to my mother. We talked and talked and talked when he visited. He was funny and smart and wonderful. He was the first male friend I'd ever really had. Evans had been my friend, but also the object of my affection. Mr. Kamler was just my friend.

He was helping me with my college application process. Over Christmas Break, Mr. Kamler took me to visit my three top choices. We went east to Ohio (Denison), then west to Iowa (Grinnell), then north to Minnesota (Carleton). It was the first real road trip of my life, and we had a blast. Mr. Kamler let me pick the music. I tried to show off, but failed. He was familiar with every band I chose.

It was easy to see why my mother had fallen overboard for him. He was easy on the ears. He listened more than he talked. He offered only when asked. And, he seemed to know everything. He must have read a lot.

He was also easy on the eyes. I got to see almost all of him on our trip, and he was something to see. The curly hair on his head also covered his chest and stomach, both of which were ripped. I noticed on the trip that he ate almost nothing but chicken and fish and vegetables. He did sit ups and push ups every morning and every night. He stretched and held his body in strange positions for extended periods of time. He meditated cross-legged on the floor, his sculpted feet turned up on his thighs. I was ashamed that I was lusting after my mother's boyfriend.

As we drove home from Minnesota, I was settled on Denison. I loved its hilltop campus and the city of Granville. I was excited to escape Paris.

I asked Mr. Kamler if he had ever had sex with a man.

"That's a pretty strange question, Eric. And pretty personal."

"So, the answer is yes."

"I didn't say that."

"Yes, you did. There are only two answers to questions like that. No, and everything else. Everything else is 'yes.'"

"The answer is yes. I think most boys do. At least to some extent. A high school buddy of mine and I jerked each other off a couple of times. It was no big deal."

"Did you like it?"

"I liked getting jerked off. I didn't mind jerking him off. A dick's a dick. No more. No less. It was a means to an end."

"I've never had sex with a girl."

"I think you're pretty far gone on the scale."

"The scale?"

"The Kinsey scale. It's the scale of sexuality. A one is totally hetero. A ten is totally homo. A five is exactly in the middle, so totally bi."

"I must be a ten."

"I think you must be an eleven," he offered, laughing.

"Where are you?"

"I'm probably a three. I'm attracted to women. I'm not attracted to men, but I notice attractive men. I can enjoy the beauty of a man's body. The muscle. The strength. The firmness. But, that's all I want to do, admire it."

"Have you had sex with my mother?"

"Eric! That's definitely none of your business."

"So, yes?"

"No. Your theory is imperfect. We haven't, but don't you dare raise it with her. It'd embarrass her."

"Why haven't you?"

"I'm old school. I'm waiting until I marry her."

"So, you're . . . like . . . a virgin?"

"That's exactly right. I'm like a virgin. I had a lot of sex when I was too young to know better. I haven't had sex in the last five years. I'm reclaiming my virginity, to the extent I can. I don't want to have sex again until I'm married."

"Are you going to marry my mother?"

"I sure hope so. She's the best woman I've ever met. Resilient. Strong. To her core."

"Should I start calling you dad?"

"No. But, you should start calling me Michael, at least away from school."