Chapter I- 8 Weeks Before
Eric had walked this far across town before, but never in this kind of weather. It was a good half hour at least, walking on a sunny day- it was more than double that in the snow. Briefly, the short-haired blonde had considered calling Alex; he didn't have a doubt in the world that Alex would have at least tried to plow through the snow in his ancient Volvo to get him. But the truth was, it didn't matter; Eric had his pride.
There weren't many winter clothes to be had in Eric's house; his mother left him precious little to buy clothes with when so much of the monthly budget went into her drinking. There simply weren't many clothes to be had for Eric, so two t-shirts, an old Army winter jacket, and his best pair of jeans would have to suffice.
Eric just hoped his best friend would understand. His mother always seemed to bring the worst kinds of boyfriends home; though he liked his mother, Eric hated her boyfriends. Every one of them was stronger than he was, and nearly all seemed to take a dislike to Eric very fast. A few- like the latest, for example- had decided that beating the hell out of Eric once in a while was good for the teenager, and a great deal of fun besides. Tonight, Eric had fought back, and the effort had cost the man a black eye- it also had gotten Eric literally thrown out the front door and into the snow.
Lucky, then, that Eric had planned for that. He simply got up and started walking.
Eric's heart had done a strange little flip-flop when Alex had told him he could come over anytime he wanted. He'd said this so casually one day, when Eric was complaining at lunch about how boring it was around his house, and how he never had anywhere to go on the weekends. Alex had just said simply, "Well, you can always come over to my place. Never as boring at a friend's house."
Eric idolized Alex, though he wasn't entirely sure why. But when Eric felt or believed something, he rarely questioned it- there had to be reason he looked up to his best friend as well as respected him. The two were a year apart, so perhaps age had some role in it- Alex was also stronger and better trained in hand-to-hand than Eric, so he guessed he admired that too.
But what mattered most to Eric, most of all, was just how damn smart Alex was. He knew so much, about so many things. Alex could sit back in his chair and rattle off the history of a given firearm or automobile without a second thought. He could relay stories from countless wars throughout history, and in war and in cars- two things Alex liked a great deal- he could tell you about countless successes and failures and why something had ended up in the one column instead of the other.
Alex was outwardly calm at nearly all times; he had a kind of self-control that Eric could never have. If provoked, Eric was quick to anger and could never do well at hiding it. But Alex… he could go up to people he absolutely loathed and treat them like a best friend. Eric knew; he'd seen the dark-haired teen do it. Alex was also a talented, gifted liar. It was unbelievable what he could make people think, the things he could sell them on.
Alex also was a visionary; he had written more than seventeen volumes in his college-ruled series of journals, spanning some four years and more than six hundred pages. In those pages he had written his personal thoughts and notes on daily events, yes- but more and more, Alex had told the short-haired blonde on occasion, the journals had become more about his thoughts and ideas on a grand scale than about events on a daily basis. Alex would read passages to Eric now and then- something Eric understood was a great privilege- and Eric would listen, spellbound all the while. At one point since their preparation for V-Day had begun, Alex had read aloud the final sentence or two from one entry: "I've been thinking about something else, too. If there is a God, why has He let me spend so much time getting ready to do something like this? Why hasn't He stopped me?"
It was classic Alex all the way. He was a thinker to rival any of the 21st century in Eric's mind. It made Eric very proud- though he was too shy to admit it- that he was playing a role in helping his best friend achieve fame, and through it recognition of his greatness. Eric was very grateful to play so important a part in the fulfillment of Alex's life.
It was those thoughts that helped keep Eric warm as he trudged through the snow on Friday night in January of 2003. His hands at least were safe; he had a nice pair of Army-issue leather gloves, bought from a local surplus store, that did the job nicely. But the wind stung his face mercilessly, and the coat's hood pulled up over his head could only do so much.
Eric just kept putting one foot in front of the other. Alex's family was not exactly rich; their house was a bit on the cold side in the winter, too. But it was someplace to go on a night like this, and Eric was glad to have anyplace to go at all. And Alex was a good friend- more than just some simple, ordinary friend at that. He was a truly great friend, the kind who would do anything he could for you and then do something more, just because you asked.
It wasn't until nearly 10:30pm that night that Eric got to the snowed-in end of Alex's driveway. He read the number on the side of the mailbox, just to be sure- 9053 Cameron Drive; yep, this was it, all right. Turning his back to the wind, Eric took out his cell phone- a cheap, righteously uncool thing that dated back to somewhere in the 90's- and dialed Alex's number.
One ring, two, three… Eric prayed he wasn't too late, or that his friend hadn't come up with new plans and left town. He'd had to go into the city a few weeks ago to visit his older sister- she'd been sick, apparently, and Alex hadn't had any choice but to go see her. Family was important to Alex. Eric had had a vague suspicion his friend had been lying- he imagined there was indeed a tall, attractive older girl Alex was indeed going to see in the city… but there was a solid chance that if that was so, she wasn't Alex's sister. Maybe it was his sister's friend. But whatever the truth of that day was, Eric didn't mind. He even forgave Alex for leaving him to deal with the big asshole jocks at school for those two weeks. Eric could take getting slammed into a few lockers; he knew there'd be hell to pay when Alex got back. The dark-haired, brown-eyed teen was brilliantly inventive with his fury.
Four, five…
Please pick up, man, Eric prayed silently. Pick up for me just this once.
"What?"
The voice was surprised, almost irritated, even- but it was Alex, all right. Eric spoke quickly, his voice shy and awkward, as it always seemed to be whenever he was asking for something he knew Alex might not give him… but always seemed to in the end.
"Hey, man," Eric said. "My folks kicked me out. Can I come over?"
"They kicked you out?" Alex was angry at someone else now, his voice indignant. "Well, where are you?"
Eric laughed a little. "I'm outside your driveway, man."
The blinds in Alex's room in the basement parted for a moment. Then Alex came back on the line, now sounding shocked. "Dude! Why didn't you fucking call me?"
Eric didn't want to say it was because he knew Alex would probably have done something stupid and gotten his car stuck in the snow. Instead, Eric just said, "I felt like walking this time."
Alex didn't buy that for a minute, not from his tone of voice. But he let it go, asking no further questions. Instead, Eric just heard his friend say, "Well, get up to the front door already. My parents are out of town this weekend, so I'm letting you in."
Eric hurried through the falling snow up to the front door of Alex's family's white brick house. He was shivering from the cold, but had never felt happier than when he saw Alex's face appear on the other side of the door.
"Come on, man! Get in here!" Alex snapped, dusting snow off Eric's shoulders and ruffling his hands through his blonde hair. "Aw, come on," Eric said, but Alex would have none of it. He fussed over Eric like a concerned mother, even insisting on microwaving some Sopwith microwave pizza and a hot chocolate for the both of them. They sat in the kitchen for close to an hour, slowly warding off the cold while the wind howled now and then outside.
"Fuck, Alex… I mean… fuck, man." Eric suddenly laughed a little, too shy to say anything else. He was thankful and wanted to say so, but didn't really know how. Alex was the big talker, the one who could always think of what to say.
"There's plenty of food in the fridge if you need some more, man," Alex said, getting up. "I'll be downstairs. Gonna have to get some sleep soon."
Eric looked up then, somewhat curious. He glanced outside; it had to be up to four inches already. "I think it's gonna be a snow day, dog," Eric said.
Alex, for his part, noticed it was yet another line from Eric that he could have just responded to with "No shit". And he would have, had it been anyone else. Yet, coming from Eric, the statement was not only undeserving of rudeness, but actually worth listening to. Anything Eric said mattered, no matter how plain-spoken it was.
So Alex just smiled. "Exactly, dude," he said. "Gotta sleep in while I got the chance."
It was vaguely exciting to Eric when he thought of spending the night in Alex's room. He'd never done that before. But he didn't have a couch in there or anything, and the armchair at his computer desk was hardly worth sleeping in- if you weren't fucked up on pot.
After a few minutes of finishing his hot chocolate and then putting the dishes away, Eric hung up his coat on a rack in the hall and headed downstairs. Alex was going through some boxes under his bed, complaining to himself when he was apparently failing to find something.
"Uh, hey, man," Alex said as Eric came into the room. "I thought I had some extra blankets under here somewhere, but I guess my mom moved 'em."
Eric noticed a slight sideways movement in Alex's eyes then, a momentary inability to meet the blonde's crisp blue eyes. For the second time since they'd known each other, Eric had a feeling his friend was lying.
But he knew he didn't care.
Alex was already settling under the heavy blanket covering his single bed, and Eric stood nearby, feeling more than a little awkward. He shivered in spite of himself as a breeze hit him; it was a little cold, even inside Alex's house.
"Damn, man," Eric grumbled. "Figures your mom'd move the damn blankets, just when we need 'em."
"I'm sorry," Alex said, and he seemed to mean it.
"I mean, it wasn't enough that I fuckin had to walk here in the fuckin cold?"
"It was enough for me," Alex said.
Eric stood there for a few moments, and then for a few minutes tried snatching one of the spare pillows and curling up on the carpeted floor. But that wasn't working; Eric soon found it just wasn't working at all.
Then Eric gave up, and without complaining- or even asking- got up, lifted the covers for a moment and joined Alex on his single bed. There was hardly enough space for one seventeen year old boy; there was precious space to spare with the both of them.
But strangely, Alex didn't complain; he didn't even seem to mind. He'd been surprised for a moment, certainly- but only for a moment. He'd seen Eric questioning the lie for a moment, perhaps suspecting that Alex had indeed been making a show of pointing out how those three winter blankets weren't there like they usually were. But if Eric suspected Alex of lying, he simply didn't care. Alex hadn't known what words to say, to tell Alex it was okay if he wanted to share the bed with him.
But he had been hoping Eric would do that.
The two boys might have been skinny, but what flesh was on them was mostly muscle. They were lean, and in their own private workouts getting a little more mean. Alex felt Eric's shoulders brush up against him, then stay there as the tired blonde naturally sought warmth. Alex finally decided to take a risk and wrapped an arm around his friend, pulling him close and keeping him warm under the covers. A sheen of sweat broke out on Alex's forehead when he realised he was a little excited; Eric could surely feel that, and he couldn't be totally asleep yet.
But if Eric did, he didn't care. What Eric did care about was that he was going to sleep, soundly and comfortably, for the first time in a long while. And he was feeling better than warm, more than safe.