5. Chapter Five

Chapter Five

Mark

W e meet at a small café called the Tipsy Turtle. It's a small place with bright colors and lots of coffee… and booze. I like to go there because it's locally owned and less expensive than the Starbuck's three blocks down. I'm sitting across from Brandon and wrapping my hands around my chai tea latte. After having seen him nude in class, it feels surreal being here with Brandon fully clothed.

"So, what happened to … pre-med? Or was it nursing?" I questioned, trying to remember.

Brandon offers a one-shouldered shrug. "Pre-med. I didn't get into the program and rightly so," he says. "My grades were pathetic."

I wince. "Still, that sucks," I offer.

"Yeah. I know, right? I ended up transferring and getting my degree in biology. I didn't really want it, but I'd already got halfway through. I figured I might as well get something for my effort."

I nod. "I'm aiming for a doctorate. I figured that if I'm driving myself that far in debt with student loans, I might as well get a fancy title out of it, you know?"

And if I ever get that doctorate, I'm ninety percent sure I'm going to turn into one of those obnoxious people who insists on being referred to as "Doctor" who puts his title all over his credit cards. I might even get a checkbook just to have my name on the checks, even though I only use credit cards.

Brandon laughs. "I guess you might as well. But I guess it's worked out okay. My father runs a charity thing, and I'm helping him out part-time with it."

"A charity thing?"

"Yeah. My father runs a charity that helps at-risk youth. They're the ones who throw the massive gala in the art museum every Halloween."

"Oh, that gala."

I'd looked at tickets for that gala once, and the cheapest one was two-thousand dollars. It was definitely out of my price range. Logan could afford it if he wanted to go, but he prefers to spend his Halloweens in bars and doing shots with friends from campus. I like alcohol just fine, but I always end up being the sober driver when I go out partying with Logan. Self-control is one of his weak points; especially when he's drunk. When drunk, it's like Logan sees thin ice and dives in face-first.

"That's really cool," I say. "I've always wanted to go to one of those." (Naw, that's a lie.)

That's not entirely false. I do think it would be helpful to go to the gala and network with professionals and people in the art world, but otherwise, I could not be less interested. And I've been to that museum plenty of times. I know (almost intimately) every painting, sculpture, and drawing inside that building.

"Have you?" Brandon asks. "We should go then. It'll be fun."

I pause, unsure if I've heard him correctly.

"That's expensive," I finally say.

Because Brandon, who is taking over his father's charity, totally won't know that tickets to his gala are expensive. Riiight!

He waves a dismissive hand. "Don't worry. I'll comp your ticket," he insists. "It'll be fun."

I don't know about that. It sounds like a bunch of rich snobs wandering around a museum. Admittedly, my best friend is fabulously wealthy, but he's not the typical rich guy. Not that I've met any super-wealthy people, but I can sort of imagine what they're like. Logan is much more down-to-earth than those people, and thus far, to my surprise, it seems like Brandon is, too.

"Do you mean, like, we'd go as a date?" I ask, trying to get the tone right.

I have no idea if Brandon is attracted to men or even how he feels about men being attracted to other men; it never came up. So, it's best to play it safe until I know for sure. I can claim I was joking if he receives the question poorly.

"I wouldn't mind calling it a date," Brandon replies smiling and reaching across the table to place his hand on mine. "You're really cute, you know? Even back when we were classmates, I thought you were really cute."

He thought I was cute! He thinks I'm cute now ! What on earth do I do with this news? Like, I don't think I'm bad looking, but I also don't look like some Nordic god fallen to earth.

Now Brandon, he does.

But for a split second, it's like the two of us are the only people left in the world. He does want to date me. I start to blush.

That's incredible and nice, and Logan will never, ever let me live it down.

"I'm... flattered," I say, unsure what else to go with.

"So, is that a ‘yes'?" he asks.

I consider it. Obviously, I know that the answer should be ‘yes'. As an art student who is about to get a master's, it's wise to communicate and connect with as many people as possible, so even if I'd rather lie around the apartment and do nothing all day, sometimes going to galas and such becomes a "necessary evil"

"I'll have to think about it," I say. "I usually have plans on Halloween. If that transpires, we can raincheck and do something else together."

"I can work with that," Brandon replies, going back to circling the rim of his mint tea, "But let me know if you can. Otherwise, I'll have to take my sister with me. Social functions are so awkward if you have to show up alone."

I get the "being alone" thing. It doesn't bother me so much, but Logan insists he has to get someone to go with him everywhere he goes. That's how I get dragged to some really shady clubs, haunted houses, and in one memorable instance, a house that was really old (actually looked like it should be torn down) that Logan insisted we just had to investigate. The door was locked, which should have been a tipoff. The elderly couple living there caught us sneaking through a window. We're lucky we didn't get arrested. Good ol' Logan conjured up a clever excuse.

"Oh, my bad! We must be on the wrong street! We thought this was a surprise party for a friend of ours." Old people fall for anything.

"I will," I say. "I just need to check with my roommate. He usually holds Halloweens hostage. It's his favorite holiday."

"Really? He's that into it, huh?" Brandon asks. "I've always preferred Valentine's Day myself."

"Valentine's Day? Why? It's just so commercialized."

"What holiday isn't?" Brandon replies.

I smirk. "Columbus Day."

"Fair enough," Brandon says, "But I don't think Columbus really deserves all that much recognition, anyway. I know Valentine's Day is super commercialized, but I guess I just enjoy the idea of an entire day dedicated to expressing romantic love. Obviously, you want to love those close to you every day, but there's something about making a special day to go really overboard that I absolutely love."

"I can get on board with that," I say. "It is kind of romantic."

I now have an uncomfortable vision of Branden flying around like some overgrown cherub shooting arrows at people, except there are no white flowing ribbons covering his now famous genitalia, sans pubic hair. I cannot unsee it. Sheesh.

I haven't really celebrated Valentine's Day in a while. I've been single for so long that I've just sort of gotten accustomed to celebrating the post-Valentine's Day candy sales. Sad, eh?

"Hold on. Back up. So, how did you end up modeling nude?"

Brandon laughs. "Oh, I just do that for fun. I saw an ad looking for nude models, so I applied as a dare I had with my friend, Seth. Then, I got picked and figured ‘Oh, what the Hell!'

"I mean, I'm incurably vain as is, so the thought of a bunch of art students painting me nude is actually pretty appealing. And it's freeing, in a way, to be naked in front of a bunch of people. Maybe pick up a date."

Uh huh.

"I know that sounds weird," Brandon says, smiling crookedly, "But it's the truth. I think there's this atmosphere where no one is judging you. That's powerful."

Maybe so. But I'm at a complete loss as how to respond to that. The cherub vision is holding my tongue.

Eventually, "Logan did something like that," I reply. "Not nude modeling."

Although, let's be fair, he'd be up for it if anyone asked.

"The Secret Service sent out an email asking all the graduate students to apply for a job as a data analyst. He applied as a joke. They never called him back."

"I'm sure he was heartbroken."

"You laugh, but I think he really might have been," I say. "He made jokes for months about how the Secret Service was missing out on their opportunity to have their own James Bond."

"Did you apply, too?" he asks.

I shake my head. "I don't need the Secret Service getting in my business; besides, the pay is only twenty-four-thousand a year. And entering data? Ugh. You couldn't pay me any amount to do data entry. I've been there, done that."

"Sounds dreadful," Brandon agrees, sipping his tea.

I nod and now idly toy with the rim of my cup. Strange how little we have to say to one another. It's even stranger how my stomach flip-flops every time I look directly into his eyes. I can't believe that he actually asked me out. I don't get asked out. Logan is the one who's always being admired and getting all the phone numbers, and now that I'm in that situation, I have no idea what to do.

Maybe I should've taken more effort to go on dates over the years. Then, I wouldn't have this problem. What do I even say?

" Wow, Brandon. Thanks for asking me out. I didn't think you would, but I'm super happy you did"?

"So how far are you from graduating?" Brandon asks.

"One semester after this one," I say, "Assuming everything goes according to plan."

"You don't think it will?"

I shrug. "To be honest, I'm intimidated by the amount of paperwork I have to do. The thesis has all these strange, misleading deadlines, and I'm absolutely terrified I'm going to miss one and put my whole graduation in jeopardy."

"Yeah, I've never liked paperwork, either. Fortunately, I have people who can do that for me," Brandon replies.

Somehow, I don't think I can just hire someone to file all my thesis paperwork, and really, even if I could, I wouldn't trust anyone with that.

"But you'll get it," Brandon says slyly, "As long as you remember to bring all your materials to your thesis defense."

I sigh. I suppose Brandon forgetting my inability to remember my chemistry lab book was too much to ask. "You're still going to hold that over me, huh?"

Brandon shrugs and winks. "Yep. That's the kind of man I am."