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“Dude, I swear,” Eric grabbed the burgers and fries from the cashier and turned back to his brother Cory. “Hayes hits a home run like, every game, we will definitely see him hit one today.” He led them both over to a table amidst the bustling families in this diner slash bowling alley on the outskirts of Roanoke.
Cory looked unconvinced but was quickly distracted from retorting as such by the fast food they set down on their plastic table. Eric looked down at his burger gratefully. It was becoming more and more difficult to have a relaxed time with his brother, especially when Cory was in the midst of some argument with Topanga, which seemed to be practically perpetual now the pair were in freshman year. Young love. Lucky, Eric never had to deal with that kind of drama. Lucky? That’s one way to put it.
Eric had thought the trip down to Roanoke, taking Cory to watch a Phillies game and getting to drive farther than his school or the grocery store for his mom – which was hard enough to convince their parents to let them – would be a good distraction, for Cory as well as for Eric.
He let his eyes wander around the retro-style diner they’d stopped at for lunch. It had a definite charm, with a neon sign out front and vinyl booths by the windows where Eric could picture sharing a milkshake with his high school sweetheart, straight out of a teen drama or a film. He could just about picture it, although as usual, the heteronormativity was getting in the way of his imagination.
Currently, there was a young guy, maybe Eric’s age, sitting in the booth furthest from the door, almost tucked out of sight. Eric probably wouldn't have taken notice of the boy if it weren't for two things. Firstly, he was cute; and secondly, he looked sad. The boy looked worn out, and, judging by his blue shirt, had just finished some sort of shift at a nearby big box store.
Eric had been looking for too long, the boy abruptly looked up and caught him staring, sending an electric shock into Eric's heart, from both embarrassment and the rush you get from sharing eye contact with someone you find attractive.
Eric glanced back down at his burger, but chanced a look back a second later, almost like instinct. The boy was staring back, now with a twinkle in his eye and a smirk on his face.
"Dude!" Eric was jolted out of the moment by Cory slamming his tray into Eric's. "Eat your food already, we have to go to the stadium soon!" He was right, petulant as he sounded.
As they were leaving, Eric's gaze drifted back over to the corner booth. The boy was gone.
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Isn't it just so pretty to think....
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"And I want you to say... I need more time..." the lead singer on the small stage was crooning an Oasis cover to the crowded club in the East Village, her angsty vocals matching Eric's mood. Eric turned away from the bar with his beer and searched the throngs of people for his friends, to no avail. It was their idea to come out tonight, Eric would have been happy to continue wallowing in a post-break-up funk in their student apartment for the third Friday in a row. A mere year into his twenties and he was already familiar with every season of The Golden Girls. His roommates were beginning to despair and so decisive action had been taken and here they were. Meg and Jonathan had likely wrestled their way to the front of the stage at the first notes of the Oasis ballad, knowing them. Comfortably positioned back from the intensity of the crowd, Eric took a sip of his beer and surveyed the people flocking to the bar for drinks.
Eric could feel his funk sliding away, and he could grudgingly admit that he was having a good time. Probably the first Good Time he'd had in too long, considering how many months he'd spent trying to make it work with a guy who wasn't right for him. The fact he could see that now was definite progress. Now he could move forward and check out other options. And there were other options. You don't study theatre in New York City without realising that the gay community is a whole lot bigger than you ever knew in your suburban Philadelphia teendom.
The club was incessantly busy, and Eric shifted aside to let a guy pass to the counter for a drink, absentmindedly noting the tan biceps peeking out under the guy’s aquamarine t-shirt and that he wore one of those surfer shell chokers. Eric could admit he had a type. And there was no harm in looking, right? The guy glanced back, flashing a grin of thanks to Eric for moving out of the way, and it felt as if Eric’s heart stopped beating for a second. The guy’s twinkly eyes had Eric smiling back instantly, along with giving him a strange sense of déjà vu.
“What’ll it be?” the bartender yelled to the guy over the clamour of the club band’s Manic Street Preachers cover. The guy’s gaze lingered on Eric a moment longer, drifting to the beer in his hand.
“I’ll have what he’s having.”
The bartender uncapped a bottle of Heineken and handed it to the guy, who then turned lightly to Eric, grinning that twinkly smile again.
“Cheers,” he offered, holding out his bottle for Eric to tip his bottle against.
“Cheers,” Eric responded, clinking their bottles, opening his mouth to ask the guy’s name, to make some comment, start a conversation, when they were interrupted by a raucous shout and a handsome-in-an-unoriginal-way guy clapping his hand onto the other guy’s shoulder.
“Jackson! Bro! You’ve got to come show Ricky up at pool with me, he’s getting way too cocky!” He gestured to a back section of the bar where several pool tables were arranged under dim lights.
“For sure, dude!” The guy – Jackson – cast an apologetic glance towards Eric and let his friend lead him away.
Eric sighed. He spotted Meg and Jonathan approaching him from the edge of the crowd with gleeful looks on their faces, excitedly pointing to the band. Eric tuned back into his surroundings, momentarily he had been so caught up in the eyes and the smile of a stranger he’d missed the opening chords of his favourite Blur song.
“Eriiiiic!” His friends grabbed his arms and they dove into the crowd together to yell the lyrics and dance the night away. Funk officially gone.
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All along there was some invisible string....
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Eric sighed, reading through the latest staff-wide email from Adams new principal. Jack Hunter. Jack. Eric would have liked to see slightly more compassion from their new leader.
Two months ago, when Evelyn Rand had walked him into the staffroom, where all the Adams Academy staff had gathered for the introduction, Eric had been full of hope.
The previous principal had left to take a position overseas, and all Eric could really ask was that the new principal would take student pastoral care just as seriously.
Of all the people who could have walked through the staffroom door that day, Eric would never have expected to see Jack Hunter. He wasn't the 'Jackson' that Eric remembered from the club that night, or the college parties where they had crossed paths a handful of times. The charm, the smile were still there but the relaxed, loveable guy with friends in every room he walked into was gone, or buried deep under well-fitted suits, hair gel and many, many diatribic emails.
A change was stirring at Adams, with the administration under Jack Hunter becoming more serious, favouring discipline and rules (no dancing in the hallways!?) over the creativity and free-spiritedness that was easily found among the students and many of the staff. Eric had to wonder how long someone as strait-laced as Jack could last at an institution like Adams Academy of the Arts.
That said, he was still Jack, a charming and clever leader, and it would be amiss for someone as emotionally apt as Eric to approach this new era with pessimism when Jack's merits may yet outweigh his flaws.
🍃🌷🍂❄️
Tying me to you…
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The early morning sunlight filters around Eric's curtains, making the room glow orange. Eric loves Sundays. No responsibility, just the quiet, and Jack. Eric rolls over, watching his partner relaxed and restful in sleep. This was a long time coming, but Eric couldn't help believing that they were always heading here, every twist of the journey that brought them here was like one invisible string leading them to bliss.