Sorry it's taken a while to update. I have computer issues. Enjoy.

Chapter 10
Chris's apartment was boring. There really wasn't any other word for it. His mother had informed him that his great-uncle owned a boarding house, so here he was.
He had two rooms, and though he had been here for over a month, his rooms were still eerily nondescript. They were decorated, yes, but they didn't reflect anything about him- save for the framed photo of him and Gordie above his bed.
The girl on the train's name had been Lea Williamson. Though they'd spoken approximately ten words on the train, she seemed to be hell-bent on befriending Chris.
Chris had always been one to walk. He had never been able to sit still for long periods of time. So it happened that on his first full night in New York, he was walking around Central Park trying to forget Gordie instead of unpacking everything that would remind him.
And who should he meet sitting on a bench feeding birds but Lea.
"I like to feed the pigeons," Lea had explained. "It's not really about the birds- rats with wings, they are- but it's nice to come out here and think about everything sometimes." Chris noticed a lilting British accent and wondered why he hadn't heard it before.
She wasn't bad looking, with straight, sleek shoulder length red hair and emerald eyes. Her nose was crooked, though, as if she'd broken it several times over and it had never been set.
"Rats with wings, huh?"
"Yeah. Look at that." She pointed at two birds fighting over a single scrap of bread. "They don't even see the pile of bread beside them. They just want to fight over that one."
Chris thought of fighting Teddy for marshmallows every time they made s'mores and laughed, though it wasn't really that funny a statement.
"Hey, where do you live?" Lea asked, setting her purse down and tucking a novel into it. Chris wondered for a second why he was always starting friendships with bookworms, but then realized that the question at hand was probably a little more important.
"I live over on 82nd Street," Chris answered, gesturing in the general direction.
"Over by Manhattan, huh?"
"Yeah."
"Nice place." She looked down at her lap for a second. "Maybe I could swing by sometime."
"Yeah," Chris agreed gratefully, noting that he should perhaps try to stop saying 'yeah'. "I'd like that. I'm new here, and I don't know very many people."
"What's your address?" she asked. "If it's not too far from my house, I'll walk you home."
"I'm at the boardinghouse by the Post Office," he said, a little embarrassed that he didn't know the street address.
"Cool," she had said approvingly. "I live on 79th street. That crosses 82nd about a block from your place."
And so began a friendship.
Lea, who was born and raised in the house she lived in now, knew everything there was to know about New York. Chris asked her everything he ever needed to know, and she was always right there with an answer.
"Who's that?" she asked now. They were sitting in his bedroom, on his bed. She often asked that, looking up at the photo of him and Gordie laughing, and until now, he had always responded with a vague "He's my friend," or something equally lame.
Lea didn't know he was gay. He didn't consider it lying to her, because he had never told her he was straight, now had he; he had just let her think that.
Tonight, for some reason, he found himself saying something more. "That's Gordie Lachance," he said fondly. He was my best friend back in Oregon."
"That's like a million miles away from here," she said lightly, lying back on his bed against his pillow. "How do you stand it? I've never even been out of New York."
"How do I stand what?"
"Being away from everyone like that."
He shrugged. "I don't know," he said. "I hurt someone pretty bad back there."
"You hurt someone?" she repeated incredulously. "I have trouble believing that."
He closed his eyes. "There are a lot of things you don't know about me, Lea," he said, propping his head up with his hands.
"Like what?"
"Well, you didn't know I hurt anyone, did you?"
Lea was silent for a moment. "What do you mean, hurt?" she asked after a little while.
"I said I lot of things that I didn't mean."
"To who?"
"No one. Nothing."
"Tell me!" But his face remained impassive.
"It was him, wasn't it," Lea said, when Chris, who had not opened his own eyes in a little while, was sure that she was asleep and was preparing to wake her up. She shook him to open his eyes and pointed to the picture above his bed. "He's the one you hurt."
"Yeah," Chris admitted, but he didn't say anything more than that.
"That's the only picture you've got in your entire place, Chris," she said. "He's important to you. What the hell did you do that was so bad that you had to leave?"
"I told you."
" 'I said things I didn't mean' is not an answer."
"Well then you're not going to get one."
There was more silence before Lea broke it again. "How are you doing with school?"
He shrugged. "I'm doing okay, I guess," he said. Lea had finished middle school and gone straight to work at her father's restaurant, so Chris's college courses were a constant source of curiosity for her.
"What's your favorite class?"
"Law."
"You think you're going to become a lawyer?" she asked, interested. She rolled over to look at him.
"Yeah, I might," he replied. He had not yet told anyone, including his uncle, that he thought he was most definitely going to go into law. It was the only subject that appealed to him, though he had been told many times by many professors that he had "potential". Damn, education was so much easier when no one knows your name.
"That'd be good for you," she said, and didn't elaborate on anything other than that.

*Downstairs*
"We're looking for Chris Chambers," Gordie said to the formidable old man who owned the boardinghouse. "We're friends of his from Oregon."
The old man's face softened at the name of his great-nephew. "He's room 28," he said. "Second floor. Staircase is over there. Here's a key."
"I can't believe we're going to see Chris," Justi said excitedly, trying not to squeal. "It'll be so romantic, Gordie."
But Gordie wasn't so sure. What if Chris had forgotten him in New York? What if- worse- he didn't even want him anymore? He wasn't sure he could handle that. . . the butterflies in his stomach were rising. . .

*Chris's apartment*
"You'd be a good lawyer," Lea repeated.
"You think so?"
"Yeah."
Chris cocked his head thoughtfully and stared ahead of him.
"You could be good at a lot of things."
Chris turned and looked at her. He had managed to miss the subtle change in her voice. Gordie's voice did that, but when it changed tones from happy and light to dark and lustful, you knew it. There was nothing subtle about it.
So he was completely shocked when she scooted up to sit a mere three inches from him. "You're a good guy, Chris."
He grinned uncomfortably at her. "Lea. . . if I. . . I think I need a breath mint. . . I . . . excuse me. . . "
"You're fine," she said soothingly, rubbing his arms now. "You and your breath are both fine."
"Well, Lea, the thing is, I. . . "
"Don't," she whispered. "Let your body talk to me."
And she enveloped him in a searing kiss.

*The stairwell*
"Will you please just breathe, Lachance? None of us brought any paper bags, so. . . "
"Teddy, shut up."
"Just don't fall," Vern cautioned, noting the excessive amount of times Gordie seemed to be tripping up the stairs.
"I'm good, Vern," Gordie assured him. "I'll be fine. I just. . . I can't wait to see Chris."

*Chris's apartment*
It had been so long since he had kissed a girl. Where Gordie was rough and muscular, Lea was soft and pretty. But something about it just felt. . . wrong.
Well, DUH, his brain screamed at him. You're kissing a GIRL!
"No, Lea," he murmured, and pulled away.
"Why?"
"Because. . . I. . . "
"You don't have a reason," she whispered. "Please, give it a chance."
And before he knew it, he was struggling against another kiss.
"Now there's something they don't teach in school," a familiar voice came from above him. He looked up to see Gordie's usually dark eyes black with an emotion he'd never seen.

*The Hallway*
"You ready, Gord?" Teddy asked, and put the key into the lock.
"I'm ready," Gordie said, and took a deep breath. Teddy turned the key and shoved the door open.
"Chris? Chris!" Gordie called, but there was no answer. Then he noticed a door. Pushing it open slowly, he jumped back when he saw Chris writhing under a girl, hands at her shoulders, lips at her mouth. . .
He made some stupid remark- knowing him, something sarcastic and juvenile- and Chris had snapped up to look at him.
The girl was pretty, he noted with an intense onslaught of anger, disgust, and jealousy. A redhead. He remembered something Chris had said one time about dating a redhead.
And then he had stormed out.

"This isn't what it looks like," Chris had screamed after Gordie, but he was long gone now.
"And this had better not be what I think it is," Lea added, having placed the boy who had just walked in as the boy in the photo.
"It's everything it looks like and more," Teddy confided to her.

End of Chapter 10