Andy Stevenson vs. The Lord of the Loins (26 page)

"I'll wait.” I needed to be patient.

"Realistically...” Tres volunteered to take a stab at me next. “...I don't think love could ever play into a relationship like that. That kind of relationship in itself is the lowest of the low with the dirtiest common denominator. They might be able to fool themselves into thinking it's something more than lust, but that's all they'll have in the end."

Here was my second.

"That and a sore ass...” Orion mumbled. A third.

"I don't know how any of you can be saying all this.” Posha looked totally perplexed. “Human beings are romantic by nature, so why can't two men be romantic towards each other?” She didn't give anyone the opportunity to answer her question. “I think his story is incredibly realistic as far as emotions and intentions go."

"I don't know what to think,” Leonardo added. Okay, he was clean.

"Me, either,” Conor agreed. Another innocent.

"I don't think there's anything redeeming about it at all.” Tyce was gazing up this way, but he refused to look me in the eye when he spoke. Okay, so now we were down to...

"I can't believe you wasted our time with that.” Winfield was the last one I expected to hear anything from, at least from the guys. Rueben would keep his mouth shut because I knew he felt he had to. One didn't rock the boat when one thought everyone else would smack you with their oar.

"Well!” Abby stood straight up and raised her fist high into the air. “I think it's a major blow for—"

"Shut up!"
everybody shouted in unison, and she nearly fell onto the floor trying to sit down again.

"Anyone else?” Cathleen scanned the room.

"I'd like to know what your inspiration was for writing the piece.” Kim's timing was perfect, as was Alan's. That was his cue to appear at the door, which he did, and deliver a message.

"Excuse me, Professor Gevaultski?"

"Yes?” Cathleen smiled. She was always nice to the messengers, just not the prey ... mainly us.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your class, but the secretary in the English Department said you have an urgent long distance phone call."

There really wasn't a phone call, but if there had been, she had to find out where it had been transferred to, since the little light on her office phone wasn't lit up and administrative assistants sometimes made mistakes. Unfortunately, the admin had just left for lunch, which meant she wouldn't be able to track her down for at least half an hour. Aren't we clever?

"I'll be right there,” she informed him and Alan left. “If everyone will excuse me,” Cathleen addressed the class, “I'll be back in a few minutes. Please continue the discussion and keep things civil. Let's try to remember that we're here to improve ourselves, not act like assholes.” And with that, she left.

"Well.” I took over. “I'm glad you asked what my inspiration was for writing this story."

"Yes,” Tristan mumbled, “how convenient."

"You'd know about convenience, wouldn't you?” I turned to address everyone else. “I originally started writing this because it shows a different side of something most everyone looks down upon."

"It might be different, all right,” Tristan shot back, “but it isn't real. Nothing like that is."

There were grumblings of agreement.

"You see,” I leaned forward, “that's where you're wrong. That story is real because that's exactly what happened to me last summer."

Well, I'd taken a few liberties when writing it down, like the manly hair, names, dialogue and several other odds and ends. Alan had taken a few liberties himself, which I fully planned on discussing with him later.

Anyway, there were a few gasps in the room.

"I would have preferred to keep it to myself because I believe sexuality is private.” I looked directly at Tristan. “But then you came along. You might even say that you've been part of my inspiration for writing it, especially after what I began to suspect a few weeks ago.” I turned back to everyone else. “Doesn't it strike anybody as curious why most of the guys in here feel there's nothing redeeming about my story? Those of you who spoke up agreed with each other, only I'll bet you don't know why."

"None of us have to sit here and listen to this.” Tristan started to stand up, but Ryan and Kim each grabbed one of his arms.

"Sit yo bitch ass down!” Kim locked eyes with him. He sat.

"I'd like to know what you're getting at.” Posha spoke up and gave me some much-needed room to work with.

"If it makes any of the guys in here feel any better, if I didn't know differently, I'd be agreeing with you. It just amazes me that none of you even know why you're agreeing with each other. Isn't it obvious?” I tried to make eye contact with them, but they kept turning away. “Let me rephrase the question. Is there a guy in here other than Ryan, Conor and Leonardo who Tristan hasn't succeeded in getting into bed?"

I was definitely getting the reaction I wanted, since all the guys’ eyes nearly popped out of their heads.

"I fell for his lines, too.” A few more gasps.

"I haven't,” Devon insisted.

"Like hell you haven't!” Orion shot back at him. “Who do you think the third person in the room with you was?"

"That was you?” Devon's face turned bright red. “Bitch, cut your toenails."

"Before we start throwing desks and getting generally ugly with each other, I'd really like to finish what I started out to say.” I let things calm down a moment before continuing. “I know that some of you who've had sex with him are straight. Obviously, he has a very persuasive manner, and if your experience with him was anything like mine, then believe me when I say that I completely understand any bitterness or hatred that you have towards him and gays in general. Fortunately, you just have to live with one really lousy ninety-second experience. It could have been worse.

"None of you was harassed on the phone, flashed pictures of naked men while talking to a friend in a public place, had an ad taken out in the campus newspaper citing you by name to come out of the closet and none of you were taken to a bathhouse."

People were too stunned to even gasp anymore.

"And it didn't end there. Since he couldn't get to me directly, he started having gay literature sent to my straight friend's house where his parents might see it in the mail, which they did."

Yep, people were pretty much dumbfounded.

"None of you experienced this because none of you ever said no. You gave in and hoped he'd move on, and he did. I told him no, something he's not used to hearing, and I've been paying the consequences ever since.

"Men have been using subtle forms of pressure on women for years. Maybe some of you have even done it. If you have...” I looked at the guys who'd slept with Tristan. “...how does it feel to have it done to you? How does it feel to be used and treated like an object instead of a human being? Not good, is it?” I paused again and collected my thoughts. “If there's one thing I want all of you to know, if there's one thing I feel is important for you to understand, it's that not all of us are like Tristan. The guy in my story from California is one example, and another would be the boyfriend I'm with now.” This caught Tristan's attention. “He doesn't cheat on me or ignore my feelings or treat me like a piece of meat. We think we're in love with each other."

Alan and I really needed to revisit that last statement. It just didn't sound as cute in public.

"You know...” I stood up straight. “...my mother used to tell me that not everything in life is funny or a joke, and I never believed her until this semester. My mother also says that things happen for a reason, and that really pisses me off because she's right about that, too. I know what I came away from this with.” I walked over to where Tristan sat glaring at me and I glared right back. “But do you? Let me make it simple for you—here's your wakeup call. You're an asshole, and while you can continue being an asshole, you aren't going to do what you've done with us to anyone else."

I turned to the rest of the class and saw that they were focused on him, too.

"Knowledge is power. You now all know what's been going on and what he's capable of, so spread the word. The Lord of the Loins is no more. His reign ends now!"

"No, it doesn't."

I heard Tristan stand up.

"Oh, for crying...” My back was still to him. “At least have the decency to make an exit with your pride still intact."

"I hope your boyfriend knows he's getting you used,” Tristan announced for everyone to hear.

"Saying that isn't going to get my goat.” I still refused to turn around and look at him. “My Siberian husky has more attitude than you."

"You won't be able to stay with him twenty-four hours a day. Sometime, when you least expect it, I'm going to be there nailing your boyfriend's ass when you walk through the door, and you're going to stand there and watch me finish.” He had grown as cold as the weather the first day I'd met him. “Turn around and look at me! I'm going to tell him how much you liked it and how you picture my face instead of his. And when he goes to bed at night, he'll have to live knowing he'll always be second-best with a third-rate prude. I can destroy your boyfriend's happiness along with yours and get off all at the same time. What do you think of that?"

There was a moment of silence, and then I did turn around.

"I think you just got my goat."

I did something then that I'd never done before in my life. Tristan got laid all right—laid out right back against the wall and onto the floor. My fist connected just under his jaw and snapped his head up and back. The bitch went down!

Something then dawned on me, and several long moments of silence passed.

"I am soooo going to get sued for that."

"How can he sue you?” Orion finally spoke up. “I just saw someone pass out, hit his head against the wall and then his chin on the desk on the way down. Bruises and bump ac-counted for."

"Yeah,” Conor agreed. “I thought maybe he was just really overtired from staying up late studying, or doing that thing he apparently does so often.” He turned to everyone else. “Didn't you all get that impression?"

They appeared to.

"You just saved me from paying him a little visit of my own after class.” Winfield cracked his knuckles. “And I wasn't going to be as nice as you."

They might have unusual names and funny ideas about what makes something an aesthetically pleasing read, but unite them with a common enemy and they weren't so bad after all.

"The next time I hear someone use a line like ‘let me show you how the guards do it,’ I won't ask him what he's talking about!” Tres was still in a daze.

"And you said violence was never an answer.” Ryan smirked, and helped me pick Tristan up and set him down in a chair. “But, seriously, Andy—manly hair? You don't have any chest hair."

"Were you looking at me when we changed at the pool?” I know. I couldn't not throw that one back at him.

"Fuck you."

"Oh, my.” Cathleen's voice startled us. “What happened?"

All the eyes in the class searched around looking for someone to speak for the group.

"The consensus is that he passed out.” I took the lead, and they were all relieved. It was kind of my fault, anyway, and it was the least I could do since I'd aired some of their personal dirty laundry in front of everyone.

"Well, did you get to finish the discussion about your story?"

The entire class nodded at the same time.

"I seem to have missed it. Well, while we had a few other presentations scheduled, we seem to have a bit of a situation here, so for the two or three of you who haven't presented yet, this is your lucky day to go finish anything that's not done."

No one moved.

"That was everyone's cue to leave so that I can attend to your unconscious peer."

Everyone scurried like hell to get out of the room. Well, everybody but me. I took my time.

"Oh, Andy?"

"Yes?” I stopped just short of the door and turned to see her bending over Tristan's still-unconscious body.

"My phone call got lost somewhere in the system, and when I came back upstairs, something told me I should take a quick cigarette break ... or maybe it was a voice I heard.” She knew what happened! “It was a pretty powerful voice, too, and it impressed me. I'm not easily impressed anymore, so wherever it came from and whoever it was, they deserve to be told ‘good job.'” Cathleen lifted Tristan's head and felt the lump on the back of it that must have formed by now. “Are you sure everyone agrees that he passed out?” she asked, just to be sure we had our story straight. “Just in case I'm asked by the dean, I'd like to be certain."

"Oh, yeah. One minute he was on his feet and the next ... right where he usually is."

"Good.” Cathleen looked up and smiled at me. By God, she was really smiling.

"Any other wisdom you care to impart upon this student?” It seemed like a good way to finish the conversation.

"Yeah, listen to classic Heart."

"You mean like ‘Little Queen,’ ‘Kick It Out’ and ‘Heartless?’”

"I see you looked them up.” She actually looked impressed.

"What makes you think I didn't know them all along?” I was, after all, a connoisseur of music. “When he comes to...” I nodded that I understood what she doing for me, and that I appreciated it. “...tell him I said to keep his chin up."

"I'll do that."

I turned to leave, and she added one last comment.

"Personally, I don't know what any of you ever saw in him anyway. Tristan may be a talented writer, but what a slut!"

"If I had a dollar for every time I've heard that, I wouldn't need any student loans.” In a strange twist of fate, if it hadn't been for Tristan, I might never have met Alan and ended up in a healthy relationship. Now, where was my little nest of vipers? I had a few revisions of my own for
him
.

[Back to Table of Contents]

Kim, Ryan, Alan and I hardly saw each other in the two weeks that followed the Tristan intervention. We had final papers to research that should have been completed a week prior, final presentations to prepare the night before we presented them and final exams to cram for the morning of. It was just too hectic, but we did manage to all get together one final time before some of us returned home.