Back at the apartment that Angel and the Professor shared, I set my stuff down on the floor by the couch. Angel handed me some sheets.
"There ya go, hon. Make yerself comfortable."
"Thanks, Angel." I took them, and threw myself down on the couch. It felt great just to sit. Collins sat down next to me.
"So... You been taking your AZT regularly, Nick?"
"When I can afford to." I replied.
"If you give me a copy of your prescription, I could fill it for you." He glanced at Angel. "I was just about to go pick up our meds, so..." I dug a crumpled up copy of my prescription out of my pocket, and shoved it into Collins' hand.
"You know I can't pay you back, right? You don't have to do this."
"It will be taken care of." He stated. Hmm, very cryptic.
"Thanks, professor."
"Don't mention it. And you can call me Collins, outside of school."
"Thanks, Collins." With that said, he ducked out the door. I thought about dozing off, but decided against it- then I wouldn't be tired when I was actually supposed to go to sleep. Instead, I reached into my backpack and pulled out my Computer-Age Philosophy notebook. Angel, who had been in the
kitchen, sat down in a chair across the room from me.
"Whatcha doin'?" He asked.
"Looking at some old notes, from when Collins taught at MIT."
"Oh."
"Wanna see?" I asked him. I could tell he was just dying to be asked.
"Sure." He crossed the room and sat down next to me, craning his neck to see the papers I was reading. "...Therefore, because man created machine, man is smarter than machine." He read. "That actually makes sense. Did Collins teach you that?"
"Yep. That was the closing of one of his lectures last year. Kinda cool, huh?"
"Very cool." We pored over that page for awhile; Angel read everything on it. I flipped a few pages ahead- crammed between a blueprint of the Computer-Age Philosophy wing and an old report card of mine was a Polaroid snapshot of six people sitting on the floor of a classroom, having lunch. I tried to hide it behind my back, but Angel noticed, and brought it closer to his face to study.
"What's this?" He asked.
"A picture of project Actual Reality. There's Collins." I pointed Collins out, in the center of the picture.
"Damn, he looks different!" Angel pointed at the picture again. "There's you, Nick."
"Yep, there's me." There was a pause, as I looked a younger version of myself in the face.
"Who are the rest of these people?"
"Want the short story, or the long one?"
"We got time. Long story." I sighed. I hate the long story.
"Might as well begin at the beginning. My mom had AIDS, and she passed it on to me when I was born. When I was little, not that long ago, people still didn't know much about AIDS, so people were afraid to let their kids play with me, or come over to my house. They thought you could get AIDS by being near an infected person." Angel shook his head. "Well, this left me a lot of time to sit up in my room and mess around on the computer. I was fascinated by computers, and wanted to learn everything I could about them. That led me to MIT.
"In my freshman year, I was in a sophomore Computer-Age Philosophy class, and every day after class, these four kids would sit on the floor and eat together. One day, I got up the nerve to ask them why they did that. As it turns out, they all had AIDS, too, and invited me to join them, when I explained my situation. Patrick, Lena, Marv, and Kelly." I pointed them out in the picture, for Angel's benefit. "When our professor, Banks, got promoted to department chair, they began to search for a replacement for him- and found Collins. On his first day, our class was so mean to him. Seriously, by lunch, he looked like he was about to cry... He probably wanted to march up to the dean's office and resign on the spot. Then, he saw the five of us eating on the floor, asked us what the hell we were doing, and we invited him to join us. It wasn't until we heard his AZT beeper go off, a few days later, that we knew he had AIDS, too.
"When we all got to be pretty close, Collins told us about these plans he had for reprogramming the Virtual Reality equipment, and asked us to help; it was called Project: Actual Reality--" I trailed off.
"So, what happened? Did everyone help with the project?"
"No." I sighed. "Marv was transferred to another school. Lena quit. Kelly went into the hospital before Actual Reality was finished, and Patrick...died."
"I'm sorry..."
"We ended up finishing the project by ourselves."
"And the rest, as you say, is history." Joked Collins, who was standing right behind me. How long had he been standing there, and how much had he heard? "I got the AZT, you guys." He tossed us each a bottle with our names and prescription on the label.
"Thanks, Collins."
"Thanks, Honey!"
"No problem. You guys ready to go out?"
*~~*
The Life Café was busy and crowded when we arrived. Mark, Roger, and Mimi had already staked out a table towards the back. I assumed the two women sitting next to them were Maureen and Joanne. I grabbed a seat between Angel and Roger, and sat back as Mark ordered some stuff for everybody. Maureen leaned across the table.
"Maureen Johnson. What's your name, pookie?" Oke-ey, then. Maybe Maureen calls everyone pookie... I hope.
"Nick Evans. Collins' student." She giggled.
"A college boy, huh?" I was about to nod my head, when Roger spoke up in my defense.
"You're scarin' the kid, Mo. Leave him alone." She stuck her tongue out at him, and looked offended.
A waiter came and put some vegetarian dish I'd never seen or heard of before in front of me. I'd been surviving off of airline food since yesterday, and this, whatever it was, was a welcome break. It was actually pretty good, and I cleaned my plate like I hadn't eaten in years. When it looked like everyone was finished, Roger, Mark, Mimi, Angel, Collins, and I stood up from the table.
"You guys comin', or what?"
"Nah. See ya tomorrow, or something. Kay?" So Maureen and Joanne headed home, while the rest of us headed to Life Support. It occurred to me that I still didn't know what the hell Life Support was, but I figured I'd find out soon enough...
*~~*
"David."
"Tim.
"Kasey."
"Steve."
"Mark."
"Roger."
"Mimi."
"Tom...Collins..."
"Angel."
"Uh, Nick?"
"I'm Paul, let's begin." From what I could gather, this was some kind of support group. For most of the meeting, I watched as Paul posed questions to people- really hard questions, about feelings and stuff. He nailed Roger with a few that I don't think I could've answered- I hate being put on the spot like that. However reluctantly, Roger was dragged into the discussion. I was proud of myself for remaining pretty much inconspicuous until about the last five minutes or so. Paul turned to me.
"How do you feel today, Nick?"
"I'm fine, thanks for asking. How are you?" Looking back, maybe that wasn't the best thing I could've said.
"Are you? Are you really fine? Or, is 'fine' just a word we all use everyday to avoid discussing our feelings?" He asked, in a slow, calm manner- rather unnerving. Throws ya off guard, y'know? I finally found a word for what I was feeling.
"How do you really feel today?"
"Pensive." I stated.
"How so?"
"I've been remembering people, and thinking about them. Pensive." I said, again, fidgeting under Paul's gaze. He smiled, much to my surprise.
"Thanks for sharing, Nick. And nice work today, you all. See ya next meeting."
We all filed slowly out of the building, and reconvened on the sidewalk by a park bench.
"I'm tired!" Angel yawned.
"I'll take you home." Collins kissed him on the cheek and wrapped an arm around his waist. Mark, who had been pretty quiet, spoke up.
"I gotta get home to work on my film."
"Who wants to go get drinks, or something?" Asked Mimi.
"Me!" Yelled Roger.
"Can I come?" I asked.
"I don't wanna play babysitter tonight, kid."
"Thanks, but I can babysit myself. I'm 19."
"No joke? Me too!"
"I'm the same age as your girlfriend. You have to let me come, now."
"Fine." He sighed reluctantly. "Collins, we're taking the kid with us, kay?" He nodded his head.
"Have him home by two, alright, you guys?"
"No problem!" Mimi shouted at Collins' and Angel's retreating backs.
"Looks like daddy has you following a curfew, huh?"
"Shut up. He's not my dad."
"Whatever. Let's go."
*~~*
"This *hic* tastes funny." I took a swig of my coke; Roger giggled drunkenly. That couldn't have been a good sign.
"Define 'funny'." He grinned at Mimi.
"You... You poisoned me." I pointed a finger accusingly at him, then turned to Mimi. "Did you help?" I asked her. I was so nauseous, I couldn't think straight if my life had depended on it.
"Poison? Far from it."
"Yeah, kid." Roger managed to choke out, between bouts of laughter. "You make a real funny drunk." My jaw dropped.
"You people spiked my coke?" We dissolved into fits of hysterical laughter. Wow, we were drunk. After a while, Mimi managed to choke out,
"We gotta get you home before Collins kills us. It's almost three."
"Kay, just one more eensy-weensy, teeny-tiny sip?" I didn't wait for her approval, and chugged the entire contents of my glass- coke and... whatever else was in there, before allowing myself to be dragged out of the bar. The walk home was difficult- we were all too smashed to walk, so, positively drunk off our asses, we stumbled back to Collins and Angel's, holding each other up by the arms the entire time. I passed out on the floor next to the couch, leaving Roger and Mimi to get home by themselves.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. Y'all rock! I'm off to write more... The next chapter is going to be an attempt at humor...
"There ya go, hon. Make yerself comfortable."
"Thanks, Angel." I took them, and threw myself down on the couch. It felt great just to sit. Collins sat down next to me.
"So... You been taking your AZT regularly, Nick?"
"When I can afford to." I replied.
"If you give me a copy of your prescription, I could fill it for you." He glanced at Angel. "I was just about to go pick up our meds, so..." I dug a crumpled up copy of my prescription out of my pocket, and shoved it into Collins' hand.
"You know I can't pay you back, right? You don't have to do this."
"It will be taken care of." He stated. Hmm, very cryptic.
"Thanks, professor."
"Don't mention it. And you can call me Collins, outside of school."
"Thanks, Collins." With that said, he ducked out the door. I thought about dozing off, but decided against it- then I wouldn't be tired when I was actually supposed to go to sleep. Instead, I reached into my backpack and pulled out my Computer-Age Philosophy notebook. Angel, who had been in the
kitchen, sat down in a chair across the room from me.
"Whatcha doin'?" He asked.
"Looking at some old notes, from when Collins taught at MIT."
"Oh."
"Wanna see?" I asked him. I could tell he was just dying to be asked.
"Sure." He crossed the room and sat down next to me, craning his neck to see the papers I was reading. "...Therefore, because man created machine, man is smarter than machine." He read. "That actually makes sense. Did Collins teach you that?"
"Yep. That was the closing of one of his lectures last year. Kinda cool, huh?"
"Very cool." We pored over that page for awhile; Angel read everything on it. I flipped a few pages ahead- crammed between a blueprint of the Computer-Age Philosophy wing and an old report card of mine was a Polaroid snapshot of six people sitting on the floor of a classroom, having lunch. I tried to hide it behind my back, but Angel noticed, and brought it closer to his face to study.
"What's this?" He asked.
"A picture of project Actual Reality. There's Collins." I pointed Collins out, in the center of the picture.
"Damn, he looks different!" Angel pointed at the picture again. "There's you, Nick."
"Yep, there's me." There was a pause, as I looked a younger version of myself in the face.
"Who are the rest of these people?"
"Want the short story, or the long one?"
"We got time. Long story." I sighed. I hate the long story.
"Might as well begin at the beginning. My mom had AIDS, and she passed it on to me when I was born. When I was little, not that long ago, people still didn't know much about AIDS, so people were afraid to let their kids play with me, or come over to my house. They thought you could get AIDS by being near an infected person." Angel shook his head. "Well, this left me a lot of time to sit up in my room and mess around on the computer. I was fascinated by computers, and wanted to learn everything I could about them. That led me to MIT.
"In my freshman year, I was in a sophomore Computer-Age Philosophy class, and every day after class, these four kids would sit on the floor and eat together. One day, I got up the nerve to ask them why they did that. As it turns out, they all had AIDS, too, and invited me to join them, when I explained my situation. Patrick, Lena, Marv, and Kelly." I pointed them out in the picture, for Angel's benefit. "When our professor, Banks, got promoted to department chair, they began to search for a replacement for him- and found Collins. On his first day, our class was so mean to him. Seriously, by lunch, he looked like he was about to cry... He probably wanted to march up to the dean's office and resign on the spot. Then, he saw the five of us eating on the floor, asked us what the hell we were doing, and we invited him to join us. It wasn't until we heard his AZT beeper go off, a few days later, that we knew he had AIDS, too.
"When we all got to be pretty close, Collins told us about these plans he had for reprogramming the Virtual Reality equipment, and asked us to help; it was called Project: Actual Reality--" I trailed off.
"So, what happened? Did everyone help with the project?"
"No." I sighed. "Marv was transferred to another school. Lena quit. Kelly went into the hospital before Actual Reality was finished, and Patrick...died."
"I'm sorry..."
"We ended up finishing the project by ourselves."
"And the rest, as you say, is history." Joked Collins, who was standing right behind me. How long had he been standing there, and how much had he heard? "I got the AZT, you guys." He tossed us each a bottle with our names and prescription on the label.
"Thanks, Collins."
"Thanks, Honey!"
"No problem. You guys ready to go out?"
*~~*
The Life Café was busy and crowded when we arrived. Mark, Roger, and Mimi had already staked out a table towards the back. I assumed the two women sitting next to them were Maureen and Joanne. I grabbed a seat between Angel and Roger, and sat back as Mark ordered some stuff for everybody. Maureen leaned across the table.
"Maureen Johnson. What's your name, pookie?" Oke-ey, then. Maybe Maureen calls everyone pookie... I hope.
"Nick Evans. Collins' student." She giggled.
"A college boy, huh?" I was about to nod my head, when Roger spoke up in my defense.
"You're scarin' the kid, Mo. Leave him alone." She stuck her tongue out at him, and looked offended.
A waiter came and put some vegetarian dish I'd never seen or heard of before in front of me. I'd been surviving off of airline food since yesterday, and this, whatever it was, was a welcome break. It was actually pretty good, and I cleaned my plate like I hadn't eaten in years. When it looked like everyone was finished, Roger, Mark, Mimi, Angel, Collins, and I stood up from the table.
"You guys comin', or what?"
"Nah. See ya tomorrow, or something. Kay?" So Maureen and Joanne headed home, while the rest of us headed to Life Support. It occurred to me that I still didn't know what the hell Life Support was, but I figured I'd find out soon enough...
*~~*
"David."
"Tim.
"Kasey."
"Steve."
"Mark."
"Roger."
"Mimi."
"Tom...Collins..."
"Angel."
"Uh, Nick?"
"I'm Paul, let's begin." From what I could gather, this was some kind of support group. For most of the meeting, I watched as Paul posed questions to people- really hard questions, about feelings and stuff. He nailed Roger with a few that I don't think I could've answered- I hate being put on the spot like that. However reluctantly, Roger was dragged into the discussion. I was proud of myself for remaining pretty much inconspicuous until about the last five minutes or so. Paul turned to me.
"How do you feel today, Nick?"
"I'm fine, thanks for asking. How are you?" Looking back, maybe that wasn't the best thing I could've said.
"Are you? Are you really fine? Or, is 'fine' just a word we all use everyday to avoid discussing our feelings?" He asked, in a slow, calm manner- rather unnerving. Throws ya off guard, y'know? I finally found a word for what I was feeling.
"How do you really feel today?"
"Pensive." I stated.
"How so?"
"I've been remembering people, and thinking about them. Pensive." I said, again, fidgeting under Paul's gaze. He smiled, much to my surprise.
"Thanks for sharing, Nick. And nice work today, you all. See ya next meeting."
We all filed slowly out of the building, and reconvened on the sidewalk by a park bench.
"I'm tired!" Angel yawned.
"I'll take you home." Collins kissed him on the cheek and wrapped an arm around his waist. Mark, who had been pretty quiet, spoke up.
"I gotta get home to work on my film."
"Who wants to go get drinks, or something?" Asked Mimi.
"Me!" Yelled Roger.
"Can I come?" I asked.
"I don't wanna play babysitter tonight, kid."
"Thanks, but I can babysit myself. I'm 19."
"No joke? Me too!"
"I'm the same age as your girlfriend. You have to let me come, now."
"Fine." He sighed reluctantly. "Collins, we're taking the kid with us, kay?" He nodded his head.
"Have him home by two, alright, you guys?"
"No problem!" Mimi shouted at Collins' and Angel's retreating backs.
"Looks like daddy has you following a curfew, huh?"
"Shut up. He's not my dad."
"Whatever. Let's go."
*~~*
"This *hic* tastes funny." I took a swig of my coke; Roger giggled drunkenly. That couldn't have been a good sign.
"Define 'funny'." He grinned at Mimi.
"You... You poisoned me." I pointed a finger accusingly at him, then turned to Mimi. "Did you help?" I asked her. I was so nauseous, I couldn't think straight if my life had depended on it.
"Poison? Far from it."
"Yeah, kid." Roger managed to choke out, between bouts of laughter. "You make a real funny drunk." My jaw dropped.
"You people spiked my coke?" We dissolved into fits of hysterical laughter. Wow, we were drunk. After a while, Mimi managed to choke out,
"We gotta get you home before Collins kills us. It's almost three."
"Kay, just one more eensy-weensy, teeny-tiny sip?" I didn't wait for her approval, and chugged the entire contents of my glass- coke and... whatever else was in there, before allowing myself to be dragged out of the bar. The walk home was difficult- we were all too smashed to walk, so, positively drunk off our asses, we stumbled back to Collins and Angel's, holding each other up by the arms the entire time. I passed out on the floor next to the couch, leaving Roger and Mimi to get home by themselves.
A/N: Thanks to everyone who's reviewed so far. Y'all rock! I'm off to write more... The next chapter is going to be an attempt at humor...