Peter dropped his suitcases on the bare mattress and scanned the room. It was perfectly symmetrical: two single beds, two desk, two small closets, two sets of floating shelves. He unzipped the first suitcase, and pulled out a set of bed linens. He hadn't brought much with him. Some clothes, a set of linens, a couple of pairs of shoes, and a small picture frame holding a photo of himself and Jason that night at the rave. Stuff didn't seem to matter much anymore. Not after everything that had happened. Anything else he needed he could get in California. He wanted to leave as much of his old life behind as possible.
A young man enthusiastically entered the room.
"Hey, man! I'm Luke, you're roommate. You must be Peter."
Peter turned around and shook the boy's hand. He couldn't help but feel a twinge when he saw that Luke was flanked by his parents. Luke's father reached out, and Peter shook his hand too.
"Nice to meet you, Peter." said Luke's father. "Are your parents around?"
Peter looked down at his shoes for a moment, then pulled his head up and looked right in the man's eyes, "Nope. Just me."
Luke's father's face belied the realization that he'd said something wrong, but he tried to cover as best he could. "Well, then at least let us take you and Luke out for lunch before we leave."
Peter did his best to let go of his anger. It wasn't meant for this man. "Sure. Sounds great."
Peter helped Luke and his parents get the rest of Luke's things from a large SUV they had parked outside. Then, they all piled in, and drove off together. Throughout the meal, Peter watched how attentive Luke's parents were towards their son.
Luke's mother effused about how much she would miss her son, "I can't believe you're already grown up and going off to college. It's going to be so strange going back to that empty house." She looked at Peter, "Are you nervous about living on your own?"
"Oh, well . . ." Peter thought about what he might say: My mother can barely stand to look at me. My father and I rarely see each other. He settled on, "I've been at boarding school since seventh grade, so it's not that different for me."
"Oh," Luke's mother looked shocked that any parent would actively allow their twelve-year old to go off to boarding school. "Well, then I'm glad you'll be there to help Luke adjust. The longest he's ever been away from home is for summer camp."
"I'll be fine, mom," Luke cut her off.
After they had returned to the dorm, and Luke had said his goodbyes, he plopped down on his bed across from Peter.
"I'm so sorry about that, man. My mom can be a little intense." Luke tried to break the ice.
"It's cool," Peter replied. "Really. My family is just kind of a sore subject these days."
"No worries. I won't ask, but if you ever want someone to tell, you can tell me."
"Thanks."
With that Peter went back to unpacking the few things he had, and Luke passed out on his bed in a food coma.
A few days later, Luke came into the room to find Peter staring up at the ceiling with his headphones on. He waved to get Peter's attention. Peter looked up, and took off his headphones.
"What's up?"
"Activities fair on the quad. You should come down. Get out of this room for a little bit."
"Yeah, why not." Peter pulled his shoes on, and followed Luke down to the lawn.
"So what kind of stuff are you into?" Luke asked.
"I don't know. I did some theater stuff in high school. I was never much for sports. I mostly spent a lot of time with my . . ." Peter paused, "roommate. What about you?"
"Played soccer since I was a kid, but I wasn't good enough for a scholarship, so I was thinking maybe intramurals. I don't know. Just thought I'd check out what's going on. This place seems to have a club for everything."
Peter scanned the quad. He couldn't help but notice the booth with the big rainbow flag. He didn't want to hide who he was anymore, but he wasn't sure how to tell total strangers either. He hadn't told Luke yet, and it had weighed on him since the first day. As if reading his mind, it was Luke who spoke first.
"It's cool, man. The LGBT Alliance is huge on campus. You should go talk to them."
Peter didn't know how to react. "I'm . . . how did you know?"
"The picture frame of you and your 'roommate,' the way you never want to talk about high school or your parents, and how you always use gender neutral pronouns when I talk about girls."
Peter was stunned. Speechless.
"Dude," Luke continued in that laid back surfer way of his, "I have tons of gay friends. No one's judging you here."
All Peter could manage was "Thanks."
Luke put a hand on Peter's shoulder, "Look, I'm going to go talk to the intramural kids over there, but you should really go talk to them. It might be good for you." Luke walked off leaving Peter to contemplate.
This was why he had decided to come to Berkeley after all, wasn't it? To be himself. To be out, no matter what other people thought. To live the way he never could with Jason. Peter gathered his courage, and walked over to the booth.
"Hey," he said.
An exuberant, spiky-haired girl reached out to shake his hand. "Hi! I'm Dolly!" she said with a strong southern drawl that seemed mismatched with her dyed hair and multi-pierced ears.
He reached back across the table, "Peter. So what it is that you guys do, exactly?"
Another young man stepped up next to Dolly. He had golden hair that fell in his eyes a little, and bright green eyes. It reminded him a little of Jason in a way. He spoke excitedly, "All kinds of things."
Dolly cut him off, "We're part social club, part activist group."
The boy handed him a flyer. "We're having a mixer this weekend. You should come."
Peter took it. "Thanks." He looked back at Dolly and the boy as he walked away, "I'll try."
Peter walked into the room, and looked around. There was a table along one wall with drinks and snacks, and people were milling about chatting with one another. He didn't used to be so shy. When had it become so difficult to just go up and talk to people? It was then Peter realized he hadn't really had to make new friends since the seventh grade. He had been with the same people for so long they were all friends whether they really wanted to be or not. This was his chance to start over, to be someone new, to finally be himself.
Peter spotted Dolly's pink and platinum spikes across the room, and walked over to her. He consciously pulled his hands out of his pockets.
"Hey," he said.
She whipped around, and her eyes lit up. "You came! I'm so glad! There are so many people I want you to meet!" Dolly began pulling him around the room introducing him. There was a blur of names and face, but Peter just kept smiling, and tried to keep his balance. When the carousel of introductions finally stopped he found himself face to face with the golden-haired boy from the activities fair.
"Hey, I'm Kai. We sort of met the other day."
Peter felt the heat rising in his cheeks. He couldn't believe he was having this reaction. It had only been a few months since Jason. He felt guilty, like he was cheating. It'sjustaconversation, he reminded himself. He shook Kai's hand, and felt a surge of electricity run up his arm.
"It's nice to meet you officially." Peter smiled in a way he hadn't in a long time.
"You pick a major yet?" Kai asked.
"I haven't decided."
"Nothing wrong with that. I've had like three different majors in the past two years, but I think I've finally settled on Mathematics. At least for now." Kai's eyes twinkled with mischief. "You wanna go for a walk? It's kind of loud in here."
Peter tried to steady his breath. "Sure. That sounds great."
Peter and Kai snuck out without any goodbyes into the cool California evening. The last hint of summer sunshine slipped below the horizon.
"So, where're you from anyway?" Kai asked.
"Massachusetts."
"You seem like a man of few words."
Peter smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I just don't really know where to begin. It's been a long time since I've met new people."
"Well, that's kind of what college is all about. What brought you to Berkeley?"
"It was as far away from home as I could get."
"That bad, huh?"
Peter looked down at the ground, and kicked a pebble. "It's a long story."
Kai opened his arms to the waning sun. "I've got nothin' but time."
Peter pressed his lips together. "I'm not sure I'm ready . . . It's just, I haven't actually had to tell it. To anyone who wasn't there, I mean."
"Try me. You don't have to, but it might make you feel better. Most of us in the LBGT Alliance have some kind of story. I'll tell you mine, if you tell me yours."
"Why don't you go first then," Peter said, smiling.
"Touche," Kyle replied. "Well, let's see. Mine's not much of a story, really. I knew pretty early on that I was gay. I think my parents did too. There was a boy at summer camp when I was in middle school. After that, I just kind of told my parents everything, and they were pretty cool about it."
"Must be nice."
"I gather your family wasn't so accepting."
"When I tried to tell my mom last year, she wouldn't even let me get the words out. I'm not sure I've ever actually said it out loud. At least not in that way."
"You can say it now."
"I'm gay." Peter stood for a moment, listening to the words ring in his ears. It felt honest. More honest and real than he'd felt in a long, long time.
Kai clapped him on the shoulder. "See. It's not so hard. So how 'bout the rest of the story."
They continued to walk. Peter started by telling Kai how he first met Jason when they were assigned to be roommates at St. Cecelia's.
"We kept it a secret for years. The first time he kissed me, I knew who I was. But, he wasn't ready for it. We spent most of last year fighting about it, and then . . ." Peter stopped. He wasn't sure he was ready to admit the rest of it. Jason was gone, and saying it out loud to a total stranger would just make it feel all the more real. Peter sat down on a bench. Kai sat down next to him, and put a hand on his shoulder.
"You don't have to finish the story now if you don't want to."
Peter tried to hold back the tears he could feel rising in his eyes. "I think I need to tell it. It's just really difficult. Jason, he couldn't handle the pressure. Golden boy to his father, valedictorian, lead in the play, and Ivy."
"Who's Ivy?"
"She was the most popular girl at our school. He slept with her right after we broke up. He was trying to prove something . . . to me, to himself. I'm not really sure. He got her pregnant."
"Oh!" Kai was stunned at the turn of events, but let Peter keep going without interruption.
"That was only the trigger. The night of the play, he took some drugs. I'm not even sure what exactly. I think he just wanted to escape from the mess he'd gotten himself into. He OD'ed. I held him on the floor, and watched the life just slip right out of him. There was nothing I could do." By now, the tears were streaming freely down Peter's cheeks. All of his self-consciousness had left him.
"I'm so sorry," was all Kai could say. He put his hand on Peter's shoulder, letting him cry softly until there was nothing left.
Peter pulled away, wiping his face. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I can't believe I just unloaded on you like that. You don't even know me." Peter got up, and started to walk away.
Kai followed him. "Wait!"
Peter paused, and turned around. "Why? I'm so embarrassed. I think I just need some time alone."
Kai stopped. "Okay, but please don't be embarrassed, and please don't avoid me. I know we just met, but I like you Peter. I'd like to be your friend. If you'll let me."
Peter gave as much of a smile as he could muster. "Okay. Well, maybe I'll see you around then."
Peter walked back to his dorm alone, replaying the evening over and over in his mind. His feelings were all mixed up: sadness, anger, loneliness, and also something new, excitement, and hope.
Luke was reading when Peter came back into the room. He immediately noticed the off look on Peter's face.
"Hey, man. You ok?"
"Just a weird night, that's all."
"You want to talk about it?"
"I think I'm all talked out. I just want to go to sleep." Peter flopped face down on his bed without even bothering to change his clothes and passed out.
He dreamed of Jason, kissing him. Then when they broke apart he was looking at Kai. Then Kai turned into Ivy, and as he raged at her, she shifted into the priest. Peter awoke, sweating. It was still dark, and Luke was snoring softly across from him. He stripped down, and put on his bathrobe, then slid on some flip-flops and walked down to the bathroom.
Peter stood under the hot water, letting it mix in with his tears, and wash away his dream. He knew he would never truly get over Jason. You never let go of your first love. Not really. But, it was time. He knew he needed to move forward. It was the only way he would ever start to put the pieces of his soul back together.
Over the next few weeks, Peter began to get into the routine of college. He even agreed to join Luke's intramural soccer team, and found that has wasn't half-bad at sports. He went to more LGBT Alliance events, but found himself avoiding spending any time alone with Kai. They hung out in groups, but Peter always made sure to make his exits early to avoid any potential embarrassment.
Peter also started to become more comfortable with his identity on campus as part of the LGBT community. He found that he didn't have to "come out" to every new person he met. Just by being himself, and speaking honestly about his life, the truth usually made its way to the surface. Plus, no one at Berkeley really seemed to care if he was gay or not. Life was the polar opposite of his days at St. Cecelia's with one exception: his mother.
Peter had tried a few times to call her, but as Thanksgiving approached he decided it was time to confront the issue, and he booked a ticket home.
Peter took a deep breath and opened the door. "Mom!" he called out. Claire walked into the hallway, and stared at her son.
"Peter, I . . . I could've picked you up at the airport."
"It's fine. I'm fine."
"Well, why don't you go up and put your things in your room. Dinner will be ready soon."
Peter went upstairs to his childhood bedroom. It hadn't really changed since he was twelve. There were some boxes in the corner of things he'd packed up from St. Cecelia's, but the rest of the room looked as if it still belonged to a little boy. There was the single bed with the navy blue comforter, and the curtains with the red and white embroidered boats. A set of Hardy Boys novels lined his bookshelf, and his once-prized Matchbox car collection took up much of his old desk. Peter sat down on the bed, gathering his courage.
It had been nearly six months since he'd been home. After graduation, Peter had arranged work as a counselor at a sleepaway camp in the Berkshires to avoid having to live at home for the Summer. He enjoyed working with the kids, and the busy schedule of activities prevented too much unwanted social interaction with the other staff.
Peter looked at his reflection in the mirror above the dresser. He barely recognized the young man staring back at him. No more prep school uniforms or altar boy haircuts. The baby fat had dropped away from his cheeks, and the soccer had brought form and tone to his muscles. He wore his shirts a little tighter now, and his hair a little looser.
Peter walked down the stairs to find his mother dishing out spaghetti onto plates.
"I figured I'd do something easy tonight," she said. "Since tomorrow we'll be eating so much at your Aunt's house."
"Have you told Aunt Susie about me yet?" Peter asked.
"Told her what?" Claire pretended she had no idea what Peter was talking about.
"That I'm gay." There it was. Out loud. The words he had tried to say for so long. The one thing his mother never wanted to hear. She dropped the pot loudly onto the countertop.
"Don't say it like that," Claire scolded.
"It's true, Mom. I need you to see me. This is me."
"I, just . . ."
"Why is it such a big deal? I don't understand."
"The Bible says . . ."
"Fuck the Bible!"
"Peter!"
"Mom, I lost Jason because of this. I really don't want to lose you too. Do you want to lose me? Do you want to spend the rest of your life ignoring your only son because of this one thing?"
Claire slumped into a chair. "I just don't know how to reconcile this. Everything I've ever believed . . . and you. It's going to take some time."
Peter crouched down next to her, and put his hand on her knee. "So it takes time. Please, just don't shut me out."
"Can we please not discuss it tomorrow. It's Thanksgiving, and all of your cousins will be there."
"I'm not going to hide who I am, Mom. Not anymore. It's not good for me."
"Are you just going to announce it, then?" Claire asked.
"No, mom, of course not. It's not like some big, formal thing. I'm just going to be me, and answer their questions about my life honestly. It will come out in conversation. It's a huge part of my life at Berkeley, and I'm not going to pretend it's not."
"Well, I suppose they had to find out eventually." Claire resigned.
Peter figured it was the best he could hope for, and sat down to eat his dinner.
Thanksgiving day went better than Peter imagined despite his mother's recalcitrance. The younger cousins weren't fazed at all when he mentioned joining the LGBT Alliance, though his Aunt Lisa kept trying to bring the subject back to his classes and soccer games. He was surprised when, while clearing the post-dinner dishes, she pulled him aside in the kitchen.
"Peter," his Aunt Lisa beckoned him over toward the sink. "Help me rinse the dishes and load the dishwasher."
Peter did as he was told. The sound of running water and clattering dishes kept their conversation private from the others in the dining room.
"I want you to know, Peter, that I love you."
"I know."
"I know your mother is having a hard time dealing with all of these . . . revelations, but please go easy on her."
"I'm not trying to make her life difficult, Aunt Lisa. I just want to be myself."
"Claire is different than the rest of us. She took it so hard when your grandfather died, and the church was there for her in ways the rest of us couldn't be. She's clung to that version of the truth for so long, she doesn't know how to see anything beyond it. You know she originally sent you to St. Cecelia's because she wanted you to find the same comfort in religion that she did. I think she thought it would help after your father left."
"I spoke to him over the summer. He actually handled it better than she did. I know how angry she is with him still, but he and I . . . I think in some weird way we kind of understand each other."
"Well, what happened between your parents never had anything to do with you." Lisa dried her hands on the dish towel, and squeezed Peter's shoulder. "Give your mom a break. She'll come around."
Peter took a moment, pretending to busy himself in the kitchen while he considered Lisa's words. He'd never really thought that much about why his mother had sent him to boarding school. He always just figured it was easier for her that way. She had been such a mess after the divorce. Sending him away seemed like an easy solution. He never really thought that she had done it for him. He watched her through the doorway to the dining room. Always so sad, that's how she looked to him . . . how she had looked for so many years. He almost forgot what her smile looked like.
It made sense. The divorce had blindsided her. She kept in touch with Peter's father for the sake of their son, but their contact was minimal. They only saw each other on Peter's parents' weekends, and occasional school functions.
Peter and his father e-mailed while he was away at St. Cecelia's, and he would usually spend a few weeks every summer with his dad up at the cabin. They would fish and eat and watch old movies, but they never really talked about anything of substance. Peter had a feeling that his father had always known the truth, but was too afraid to ask. It was easy with his dad. He had made himself the "fun" parent. The one with whom Peter had no responsibilities. Peter knew it was his father's twisted way of trying to make up being around so little, but he had always liked the ease of their relationship. He knew it wasn't fair. Claire tried so hard, and he loved his mother, but he just never felt as close to her as he wanted to.
The following morning, back at his mother's house, Peter tiptoed downstairs early to find his mother in the den, flipping channels in her bathrobe.
"Hey, mom," he said quietly as he sat down beside her. He put his hand on her arm, leaned over, and kissed her gently on her forehead. "I love you."
Claire looked at him, tears rising in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around him, and pulled him close. They stayed like that as infomercials played in the background.
As Peter left to fly back to California the following day, he knew that while things weren't yet totally back to normal with his mom, they were certainly much better than they'd been before his trip home.
Claire drove him to the airport, and hugged him tight, "Come home for Christmas, yeah?"
"Yeah," Peter replied as he slung his bag over his shoulder and disappeared between the automatic doors.
The last thing Peter expected as he exited the airport was to hear someone shouting his name.
"Hey! Peter!" the voice shouted. Peter looked up to see Kai waving at him. Nervous, he walked over. He had managed to avoid spending any time one on one with Kai since that first night.
"Hey. How was your Thanksgiving?" Peter asked.
Kai rubbed his belly, "Fattening. We should go for a run later to work some of that turkey off. Want to share a cab back to campus?"
"Sure." Peter tried to breath through his anxiety, and let the cabbie toss his bag in the trunk as he slipped into the backseat.
Kai chatted breezily as they rode back to campus. Peter mostly smiled and nodded. He couldn't help but notice the little dimple in Kai's left cheek or the lines his muscles cut into his arms.
They arrived back at campus, and stopped where the path split towards their respective dorms.
"So, a bunch of us are going out later for karaoke at this bar off-campus. You should come" said Kai.
Peter's first reaction was to say no: to make up some excuse, but he decided to be brave and said, "What time?"
The smile on Kai's face widened. "Meet me here at nine." As he headed off towards his dorm, he turned and shouted back, "and don't be late!"
Peter shivered. He was excited, but nervous. The room was empty when he got back. Luke wouldn't be back until Sunday night, so he had a rare night to himself in the dorm. He took a shower, and spent far more time than was necessary deciding what to wear and forcing his hair into the perfect "effortless" mess.
Kai was waiting with Dolly, and a bunch of other people when Peter met them. Some of the people he recognized from the LGBT Alliance, but there was a handful of others he'd never met. Kai introduced him around, "Everyone, this is Peter. Peter, this is my roommate Mark, his girlfriend Lindy, her suitemates Jada and Tara. You know Dolly and Liam and Shayla from the Alliance."
Peter waved at the group, "Hey!" He shoved his hand back in his pocket, and let Kai lead the way.
The bar was packed when they got there. Someone was up on stage singing a hopelessly tuneless version of "Don't Stop Believin'." Lindy, Jada, and Tara bee-lined for the sign-up sheet.
Mark leaned over towards Kai and Peter, "They always do 'Stop, In the Name of Love.' It's karaoke tradition. You gonna sing, Peter?"
"Oh," Peter was caught off guard. He hadn't really thought about actually getting up and singing himself. He hadn't sung in front of other people since the night that Jason died. "I'm not sure. I was kinda planning on just watching."
"C'mon, you have to sing. That's the whole point of karaoke. Plus, this place is super laid back. No one cares if you suck. Look at that dude," he pointed to the stage where a sloppily-dressed middle-aged man sang a barely audible version of an old country song.
Peter shrugged. "I don't know what I'd sing."
Kai grabbed one of the large binders sitting on the bar. "I'll help you pick something."
An hour and two cocktails later, Peter was feeling looser and less nervous when the DJ finally called his name, "Next up we've got . . . Peter singing . . . a little classic U2."
Peter walked up the dingy, black stairs and accepted the mic from the DJ. He stared out into a sea of eyes, and then closed his own, letting the opening chords seep into his pores.
"Is it getting better, or do you feel the same . . ." Peter sang softly at first, getting louder as the bridge swelled, "Love is a temple, Love the higher law . . ." The music faded out, and as Peter opened his eyes he realized every body in the bar was completely still and staring at him. They erupted in applause. He even heard shouts of "Encore!" and "Sing another one!" Peter pressed his lips together, handed the microphone back to the DJ and quickly skipped down the steps. He couldn't breathe. He slipped between the hordes of people towards a back door, and burst into the cold, night air of the alleyway. He leaned forward steadying his hands on his knees, wondering if he would throw up.
Seconds later he heard the door and saw Kai standing beside him. Kai put his hand on Peter's shoulder, but Peter shrugged him off. Kai stepped back. "You, ok?" he asked.
Peter shook his head. He forced himself to take a deep breath in and pushed the air out through his mouth. "I . . . I'm sorry. I didn't mean to ruin your night."
"Peter," Kai was taken aback by Peter's apology, "You were amazing up there. I had no idea you could sing like that. Everyone loved you."
Peter finally turned around, and tried to pull himself together. "I think I'm just going to walk back to campus."
"Peter, please," Kai pleaded with him. "Let me come with you. It's late. You shouldn't walk by yourself."
"I'll be fine." He was surprised when he looked at Kai and saw the liquidity in his eyes. "I'll call you tomorrow."
"Promise?" Kai asked.
"I promise" said Peter as he walked off towards the street.
Peter tried to shake off his emotions. Something about singing that song had brought everything rushing back . . . Jason and Ivy and Matt and his mother and the priest. The look on Nadia's face at graduation. The first time Jason had kissed him . . . and the last. The night at the rave, and Ivy's birthday party. The play. That stupid play. Why had he pushed so hard for Jason to try out anyway? Maybe if he'd laid off. Maybe none of it would ever have happened. Ivy never would've gotten so close to Jason. Peter shook out his arms. He knew it didn't matter. It would've happened one way or another. He missed Jason so much, but he was so angry at him too. Angry at him for his weakness: for sleeping with Ivy, for being so scared of what he was, for not being able to stand up to his father or the priest. For not being willing to kiss Peter at that stupid rave. For taking the drugs in the first place. For dying. Dying. He was the most angry at Jason for that. For leaving them all alone to pick up the pieces he'd left behind. For dying and leaving Peter feeling guilty every time he even looked at another guy. For making him feel guilty every time he saw Kai.
Peter pulled his phone out of his pocket, and called Kai. "Hey, can you come meet me?"
A few minutes later he saw Kai walking down the street towards him. Peter looked him in the eyes. "I'm so, so sorry for just walking out like that. Your friends must think I'm a freak."
"No. They don't. I hope you don't mind, but they were worried, so I told them you'd recently lost someone. I didn't get into specifics or anything, but I thought . . ."
Peter cut him off, "It's fine. It's my fault. I should never have gotten up there, or I should've picked a different song."
Kai put his hand on Peter's face. "I'm not crazy am I? I know you're going through all this stuff, but there's something here, right? With us?"
Without thinking, Peter leaned in and kissed Kai. When he pulled away, Kai's expression was unreadable, but then it was Kai's turn to pull Peter back in. Peter slid his fingers in between Kai's.
"Luke's not back until tomorrow," he said breathlessly, as he began to walk towards the dorm, pulling Kai along with him. They walked hand in hand in silence until they reached Peter's room.
Peter unlocked the door, and was barely able to get inside before Kai was kissing him again. They pulled at each other's shirts and buttons and jeans until they were a tangle of limbs on the bed. Peter let everything go. No thoughts, just hands and lips and skin and warmth and the smell of sweet sweat.
When he woke, the dawn was barely breaking. Kai's breath was slow and soft. Peter let his hands wander along Kai's spine, learning every inch of his skin. Kai slowly awoke to Peter's touch.
"Mmm, what time is it?" Kai asked.
"Early," Peter replied. He glanced over towards his clock. "Five-ish."
Kai rolled over sleepily kissing Peter. "Go back to sleep. It's Sunday."
Peter sat up, his hand still on Kai, "Actually, I have to go somewhere. You stay. Sleep. I'll be back in a little bit." Kai murmured and drifted back off.
Peter took a quick shower, and pulled on some clothes. He walked in the early morning sun until he came to a big, old church. It was too early for the congregants to have arrived for Sunday mass, but the doors were unlocked. Peter pulled, and slipped inside. He looked up at the massive stained glass windows, watching the light dance through them. He walked up the aisle, and took a seat in one of the pews. He clasped his hands together, and dropped his head. He prayed for Jason, and for his mother. For Ivy and Nadia and Matt. He prayed for himself and for Kai. His prayers weren't pleading. He wasn't asking for anything. He just sat and ruminated about his past, his friends, his family. He thought about Kai and his future. A voice pulled him from his reverie.
"Can I help you, son?"
Peter looked up to see an old priest, much like the one he'd grown up with at St. Cecelia's. "No, thank you. I'm fine. I was just . . ." Peter stood up, "saying goodbye." He smiled sadly at the old man, and walked out of the church. He didn't know how he was so sure, but he knew that this would be the last time he prayed in a place like this.
When Peter got back to his room, Kai was awake and waiting for him. Peter sat down next to him on the bed.
"Where'd you go?" asked Kai.
"Church," replied Peter.
Kai's eyes were wide. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah," he kissed Kai softly. "I'm good."