Hey guys, sorry for going AWOL on you all! As Don said, the past week or so has craaaaaazy! Next week is going to be pretty rough as well as I'll be apartment shopping in DC all week. After that, though, life should be somewhat normal for a while.
This chapter was never supposed to happen - it just sort of came out when I tried to write something else! I hope you enjoy it!
Chapter 17
Renaissance Man
November had come too soon for Waylon’s taste. What had been an unusually warm autumn turned, seemingly overnight, into a grey frozen blanket that laid upon the land. Equestrian practices had all but stopped for the winter, it seemed that with each passing day, Waylon was spending more and more time inside the library. Even Cameron who, it seemed to Waylon, never opened a book was showing the pressure of an increased workload. Even though he slept just feet away from James, it seemed as though their time together had become scant.
Waylon kept his energies high with constant reminders that he would soon have a full week’s break in which to recover. Each morning Waylon would wake and count the days left until his flight home for the Thanksgiving holidays: two. He checked his tickets home; Providence to Atlanta, Atlanta to Little Rock. He tried to refocus on the paper he was writing at his desk, but his brain was too numb to form sentences.
The sound of the turning doorknob was the final straw that broke his concentration. James stood in the doorway, only his eyes peeking out from between his scarf and the brim of his hat. A light dusting of white powder sat atop his shoulders and head.
Waylon ran a hand through his hair. “Don’t tell me it's snowing.”
James unwrapped his scarf. “You do know that whether or not I tell you about it, it's not going to affect the fact that it is actually snowing, right?”
Waylon shot him a look. “You’ve been spending too much time around my boyfriend.”
James hung his jacket back in his closet, and walked over to Waylon, setting a large brown paper bag on his desk with a clink. Waylon looked at the bag and then up at his roommate. “Thirsty?”
“I can’t . . . I’m only two pages away from finishing this paper.”
“Yeah, a paper that's due when?”
“Next Monday.”
“Exactly! That means you have nine whole days to finish it”
“But I don’t want to have to worry about it over the break.”
James took two beers out of the bag and uncapped them. “Dude! I’m flying out tomorrow; after I’m gone you’ll have the place to yourself for a whole twenty four hours to get it done.” He handed a bottle to Waylon. “Take a break.”
Waylon took it and shut his laptop. The pair took seats on the couch and turned on the television. “Where’d you even get this,” Waylon asked.
“Thomas.”
“So, you really got it from Logan.”
“No . . . I got it from Thomas. Who may or may not have gotten it from Logan. I figure if I don’t ask him where he gets it from, you can’t be mad at me for it.”
“Ah, fuck it. The guys a douche, but I’m so over it now.”
“Good, you should be. And besides, you’re the one with a boyfriend; you’re not the one sneaking around raping people.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Waylon took a long swig from his beer.
“Of course I’m right. I’m always right! How else did you think my grades got better than yours?”
“What?!” Waylon sat up. “You wouldn’t even be passing Bentham’s class if it wasn’t for me.”
“That’s just a technicality . . . now finish your beer and grab another. You need it.”
Waylon looked over at his friend. “Am I really that bad.”
James smiled. “If you’re this uptight at Thanksgiving, I’m already considering moving out for finals week.”
“Yeah,” Waylon said finishing off his beer. “I don’t handle stress well.”
The pair sat in silence for a while as the six o’clock news filled the television screen. The weather showed a giant mass of green, pink, and white radar images over the entire region. Four inches were projected by the morning. The thirty minute show ended with a short story on the completion of the new radio telescope in Apalansett.
“Cameron’s staying here for the week to help them finish that,” Waylon said nodding at the screen. “He’s staying here over Christmas break too; apparently he can do research there through the school before it really gets going in the Spring.”
“Well, where would he go,” James asked. Waylon looked at him questioningly. “Well, I mean, where else would he spend Christmas? I mean, were you going to have him spend the month with you at home?”
“Well, no . . .”
“Right, and he doesn’t really have any parents does he?”
“He had foster parents . . . but I don’t think he really has any contact with them. Or at least he’s never mentioned them to me.” Waylon took a long pull from his bottle. “I’ve never really thought about it before.”
James grabbed the remote and began flipping through the channels. “Sure does seem pretty lonely.”
The first six pack of beer was soon gone. Each of the pair was on their fourth beer when a hard knock rang out against the door. Waylon started the arduous task of standing up when Locke open the door and walked in.
“We really should start locking that,” James said, looking at Waylon who was yet to get off the couch.
“Drinking without me,” Locke asked.
“Better catch up,” Waylon told her.
“Please,” she said. “I’ve been pre-gaming since noon.”
With that, the three of them fell into the gentle current of conversation; discussing the snow, school, and everything that only mattered for a day.
“Anything but the cranberry sauce,” Waylon said. “That shit's disgusting.”
“Oh my God,” James said, covering his face with his free hand. “That’s the best part! Put it all over the dressing.”
“It’s stuffing, not dressing,” Locke chimed in.
“What? Stuffing? No, you don’t stuff anything,” Waylon said, with James nodding in agreement.
“Yes, you do. You put it in the turkey to cook.”
James and Waylon looked at her in bewilderment before Waylon whispered to his friend in an exaggerated Southern accent “it's because she’s from the North.” That seemed to be enough to settle James as he quickly downed the last of his beer.
-----------------
Waylon woke up to find the television playing a steady stream of infomercials. He hadn’t remembered falling asleep. James was slumped on the far end of the couch, and the chair Locke had once been sitting in was now empty. Waylon checked his phone and saw a text that he had missed from Cameron. It had been sent almost four hours earlier.
Instead of replying and waking Cameron, Waylon tossed the device on his bed as he stood up and walked to the far side of the room. He looked out the window at the constant shower of falling crystals. A light outside illuminated the ground; the sidewalk now completely covered, the remains of footsteps just barely still visible as elongated indentions in the otherwise pristine white.
“I’ve always loved the snow,” James said from behind him.
Waylon jumped. “I didn’t hear you get up.”
“Ah, sorry. I guess I’m a light sleeper even when I’m drunk.”
“Does it snow in Kansas?”
“Yeah, maybe a couple times a year. Usually nothing too crazy, but maybe we’ll get a few days out of school over the whole winter. What about down in Arkansas.”
“Maybe once every other year or so. Sometimes we get ice, but mostly just the cold.”
“I think the winter is more bearable when it snows. I guess it makes me feel like there’s an end result to suffering out the cold.”
“You don’t like winter,” Waylon asked.
“Who does,” James said. “It's dark, cold. You’re always bundled up in heavy clothes. Don’t get me wrong, snow days are fun, but . . . after a while, all that snow just starts to look like ashes.”
Waylon turned to look at his friend who was now undressing and sliding into bed. Waylon slid his pants off and pulled his shirt up over his head. “I have something I wanted to talk to you about,” James said, as Waylon settled into bed and pulled the covers up around his chest.
“Yeah, sure, what is it?”
“Well, it's two things actually. The first was about this Summer. I’ve applied to go on this study abroad trip to Peru. One of the professors is sponsoring a trip to an archeological dig down there.”
“Well, that sounds great,” Waylon said. “You almost had me scared there. I thought you were going to tell me you wanted to change roommates or something.”
James smiled. “Nah, I don’t hate you that much, yet. But, I mean, I haven’t been accepted to the program yet, and I probably won't be - its mainly for upperclassmen, but I figured it was worth the shot.”
“Well, yeah, of course. What was the second thing,” Waylon asked.
“Oh, well, I was wondering what you were doing for New Years?”
“Probably sleeping though midnight and then watching that rose parade thing. Why?”
“Well, I was going to see if you wanted to come up for a few days?
“To Overland Park?”
“Yeah, sure. I mean, we’ve never really done much to celebrate, but there’s fireworks and stuff around so I thought it could be fun.”
“Yeah,” Waylon said, “absolutely. I could defiantly drive up, I mean, I think it’s really only about six hours away.”
“Good deal, man. Good deal.”
The sound of James’ breathing soon became soft and steady. Waylon’s eyelids drew heavy, but his mind rolled over the image James had given him. As he lost himself to sleep, his last thought was of the ground outside, changing from snow to ashes and ashes to snow.
----------------
A silver filtered light fell through the window. Waylon cracked open his eyelids just enough to see James’ blurry form standing by his desk, riffling through a drawer. Waylon sat up. “Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” James said.
Waylon looked at the clock that was blinking 1:24. “I thought you’d be at the airport by now.”
“Flight's cancelled. You’re stuck with me another day.” Waylon groaned and laid his head back down on the pillow. “Ah, come on, it can’t be that bad to have me around.”
“It is” Waylon said from beneath his pillow.
“Well here,” James said tossing Waylon his phone. “Go hang out with Cam. Your phones been buzzing all morning.”
Waylon unlocked his phone. Two messages awaited him, both from Cameron. One, timed at 7:02am read ‘breakfast?’ A second simply read ‘call me.’ Waylon held the phone to his ear and waited through the ringing from the other end. Cameron’s silver voice soon filled Waylon’s ears and they agreed to meet for lunch in the main hall.
Waylon despised the act of getting dressed. The cold weather forced to wear a pair of thermal underwear beneath his jeans, and two pairs of socks beneath his insulated boots. Locke, much more acclimated to New England winters mocked both James and Waylon as they struggled with the cold, but they took comfort in knowing that they would, if ever stranded in a sun drenched and humid environ, be returning her taunts. Waylon put on his heaviest coat with gloves, a hat and scarf and set off out of the Keep. The fresh powder squeaked under his boots. Waylon squinted his eyes against the sun’s reflection off the gleaming landscape.
Cameron greeted him at the door and they exchanged a brief kiss.
“Aren’t you cold,” Waylon asked, noting that Cameron was wearing only jeans and pea coat.
“I am not. I spent much of the morning by the fire. The walk here is in no way long
enough for body temperature to be significantly lowered.”
“Well, some of us aren’t that lucky. Some of us had important things to do this morning, like sleeping off our hangovers.” Cameron smiled.
They scanned their I.D. cards and entered the dining hall. Splitting up they each drifted off in opposite directions only to meet again at the hall’s grill. Cameron made himself a hamburger while Waylon pilled chili on top of a hotdog. “You know,” Waylon said as Cameron took the first bite of his burger. “They say eating a lot of red meat gives you cancer.”
Cameron put down his food and clasped his hands. “Your hotdog is no less a source of red meat than my hamburger. Also, when one takes into account the amount of beef in the chili you have added, it could be argued that you are putting yourself at an even greater risk than I am.”
Cameron looked pleased with himself, while Waylon just pursed his lips. “You just have to be right, don’t you?”
“I assure you, the joy I have at being right is incomparable to the joy I get from being with you.”
“Listen here bud,” Waylon said smiling and brandishing his butter knife, “if you a
ssure me of one more thing then I
assure you this knife will hurt when I jam in up your spleen.”
With each passing day of their relationship, the maze that was Cameron’s personality seemed to grow less twisted. While some aspects of his life still remained shrouded in a grey haze, Waylon had noticed that Cameron seemed to be coming to life before his eyes. Cameron smiled. No longer did Waylon have to rely on the subtle raising of eyebrows to discern a joke. Now the granite muscles of Cameron’s face would shift and a new light would grace his countenance.
Waylon was pulled out of his thoughts by a questioning stare from across the table. “I’m sorry, what? I zoned out for a minute.”
“I asked if you knew when James was leaving.”
“Oh, no, not sure. Tomorrow maybe? As soon as they can get the flights going again.”
“Well, if you should be so inclined, my roommate has already left for the holidays, so you could spend the night in my quarters.”
“You don’t have a roommate,” Waylon smiled.
“Do I not?! I am filled with disappointment!”
“Something tells me you’ll live.”
“Perchance you could help ease my broken heart?”
“Yes,” Waylon said. “Perchance.”
) - I don't really care if I am right or wrong, just trying to figure it out is part of the fun for me. And thank you for the update, I hope Seth's preparation stuff for graduate school is going smoothly and for the best.
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