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CHAPTER 8: Chapter Eight

-- CHAPTER EIGHT --


Steven drove home from the coffee shop feeling numb, his mind in a haze. He had intended to pop back into the grocery and get a few things. But as he left the coffee shop it seemed almost more than he could manage just to get to his car and drive. The night air had a sting in it that he hadn't expected.

As he drove home he found tears springing to his eyes. "Why did you have to come back? Why, Johnny? Why!" Steven couldn't discern whether he was angry or hurt. As he drove past the park he was stung with the realization that it was here where he and John had first really met. That damn bench by the public bog. He had passed this park for years and it never brought thoughts of John before, but tonight the memories came rushing at him swiftly, like ghostly time-lapse images.

He could see John standing in the doorway of the loo, looking shocked as he saw Steven on the bench. Having heard John's voice this evening, he now suddenly heard in his mind the echo of the young John saying, "Carter isn't it?" Then, in his mind, the scene shifted to another doorway, in which John stood, bottle in hand, asking to use the loo. He was so beautiful then.

Actually, Steven thought, he is still beautiful. Still dashingly handsome. Still the head boy. Still Superman. Still the most potent mixture of pleasure and pain that I've ever known, Steven admitted to himself.

God, Steven thought, his eyes tearing up again. Why am I thinking about this? Why do this to myself?

Why was seeing John again affecting him this way? he wondered. Was it guilt because he felt disloyal somehow to Scott? Was it that he held a grudge against John about the past? Or could it be that---?

"I thought I could handle it, but obviously I can't," he told himself. "Well, now I know."

Steven found himself in his flat, with an open bottle at his side, sitting on the floor, fighting back tears. It wouldn't be so bad, he thought, if he just knew why he felt this way. It angered him that he couldn't sort it out. Was it Scott, or was it John? Was it his current state or was it the past?

How dare John just return like this!

He put on some of his old music and tried to sort it out in his mind, but the liquor only made him groggy and the music served to bring his emotions to the surface. For the first time since Scott's funeral, Steven cried. He cried for Scott, he cried for John, he cried for the past, and he cried just for the release. Soon he was exhausted, and the music carried him into a deep, peaceful sleep.

* * * *


John sat at the table in the coffee shop for a long while after Steven left. It had seemed to be going so well. What happened?

It frustrated John that their reunion couldn't have happened in a better place, under more ideal circumstances. But what were the ideal circumstances for meeting someone you considered to be the love of your life, but whom you haven't seen in twenty-two years?

John was confused. At first Steven seemed so friendly, but then he left so abruptly. Had John said something wrong? Maybe, John thought, he just wasn't over his recent relationship. Eight years is a long time.

John sighed. I could always charm everyone else into doing whatever I wanted, he thought bitterly, but I could never fool Steven. Steven always insisted on the truth.

John blamed himself. He knew it wasn't fair of him to attempt any sort of relationship with Steven, and he intended to do his best not to push things, yet---

Perhaps this was all a big mistake, John thought. He shouldn't have just returned here suddenly thinking everything would be sunshine and roses. Be realistic, he told himself. Even if Steven can forgive, it will take time.

Still, he had the feeling that tonight had been a major step in the wrong direction.