Seeking Boy, Finding Love

Chapter 2

Chapter 2That was three months ago. There are no hard feelings between us. Well, definitely nothing hard from my end. Seriously, though—Mindy’s cool. And she’s apologized profusely, multiple times. I guess a girlfriend of hers suggested that if the tables had been turned, and I’d been a straight guy trying that on a lesbian friend…well, you can imagine that s**t storm. I’m good, though. I’m almost ready to laugh it off, even.

Since then, Mindy’s mission has been—yeah, you got it—finding me a man. I guess I haven’t grown tired of it yet, so I’m still humoring her. It’s not like I’ve got guys breaking down my dorm room door yet, so I figure, let her try. Unfortunately, her taste in men is horrible. If I had to describe myself, I’d say I was a twink, growing into an otter. Mindy’s done all the research, and concluded that, therefore, my ideal man must be a leather-clad, burly bear. No. Just no, no, no, no, no.

“If you don’t like bears, how about a daddy?” We were chilling—literally—on the sidewalk patio of a little campus coffee shop, fleeces zipped up against the early October chill. Neither us, nor the café, were ready to give up on patio season yet.

“Daddy’s are your issue, sweetheart. not mine.”

“Harsh!” She gasped, swatting the air in my direction. “It’s not my fault he wants to pay for my college out of guilt.” Mindy’s father—her actual bio-dad, not some sugar daddy—lived out west somewhere. There were regular tuition payments, and irregular video calls between father and daughter.

“Mindy, Theo!” A trio of classmates for whom we’d been waiting before going to class had arrived. Heather—Mindy’s oldest friend in the city—was in front, dragging her boyfriend Jeremy by the crook of his arm. He didn’t look amused, as usual. Scott brought up the rear, looking like someone’s lost, younger brother.

Mindy pushed back her chair with a scrape of metal on stone. I followed suit, albeit more quietly. “Guys, what kind of man should we set Theo up with?”

Heather frowned—she was a bit of a stuck-up b***h. Jeremy exuded a complete and utter lack of interest in the process, but Scott was game.

“You can have my ex-boyfriend,” our unassuming friend said, his grey eyes sparkling. His tight hoodie accentuated his slim build and matched the color of his short black hair.

“I don’t want used goods, thanks,” I replied.

“Beggars can’t be choosers, sweetheart,” Mindy said to me, collecting her drink. “Scott, text your ex—see if he’d be willing to do some charity work.”

Scott chortled, and even Jeremy cracked a tiny smile. Heather remained stoic.

“Nice, Min. Nice.” Done with their ribbing, I set off in the direction of our mutual class.

Mindy and Heather were friends from high school; they were the heart of our little ragtag group. Heather was what I’d describe as a foxy Latina. She was also unapologetically Catholic, and tolerated with ill-grace Scott’s and my predilection for the same pool of available mates in which she fished.

Heather’s boyfriend Jeremy was a red-haired grouch recently emigrated from Wales, who would lose it on you if you asked him if he was Irish. He’d come to North America with his much-older sister after their folks had died in a car accident back home. He was a year ahead of us, studying architecture, but hung out with us, well, because he was p***y-whipped. And didn’t make friends very easily, with his bitter attitude, so didn’t have anyone better with whom to hang out.

Scott was from out of state—he’d come to college on the coast to escape his two overbearing mothers, who’d always wished for a girl. They got two-thirds of their wish. Scott knew he was gay while he was still in diapers, so he claims, and he liked to dress up in women’s clothing. By day, our boy was Scott M. Croft, a fellow second-year student; by night, he transformed into Lora Croft, the youngest and most beautiful drag queen on campus. And, f**k, is he beautiful. Even out of drag. I feel like he’s our group’s little brother, though, so don’t get any dirty ideas.

As for Mindy and I, we were lumped together back during frosh week, lived in the same co-ed residence, and shared a good portion of our first-year courses. It was only natural that we’d become close friends. Now that she was completely sure I was gay, we were even closer.

The five of us had arranged to take all the same electives this year, to maximize the time we spent together. So, twice per week, we’d meet at the campus café, and carry on together to learn about Sustainability in the 21st Century. We took up the entire back row of the little lecture hall and helped one another stay awake for the hundred and fifty minutes of straight lecturing.

After class that morning, we split up. Heather dragged Jeremy off for whatever it was straight couples did just before lunch; Scott, Min, and I set off for our dorm hall.

There was bad news waiting for me when I got back. The dickwad of a dorm don, Danny—hey, I didn’t make up that alliteration; it’s all just true stuff—was loitering outside my door, perking up when he saw us come out of the stairwell.

“Bondi,” he barked—that’s me, by the way; well, my last name, at least.

“What’s up, Danny?” I said, knowing what it was he held between his meaty linebacker fingers.

“Your eviction papers came in.” He flashed a toothy smile, waving the folded letter in my direction. Mindy, my pit-bull, strode forward, snatching it out of Danny’s hand. After reading the first few lines, she wheeled back to Danny, her social-justice warrior coming out.

“This is so unfair! Theo is working his ass off at the pool to make money. It’s not his fault his parents are poor!” Ouch. I shared a wince with Scott. Min was oblivious, and just bulldozed onward. “You can’t just kick him out of here! Where is he supposed to sleep?” As she took a breath, Danny made a “w” with his two hands. He looked at me over Min’s shoulder.

“You have until Sunday to be out, Bondi.” And with that, he lumbered off.

I snatched the letter out of Min’s hand, ignoring the curious heads leaning out of a few doors. Striding quickly to my room, I let us in, slamming the door shut after Scott slid through.

“That’s such bullshit—” Min started again, before I stopped her with a gesture.

“Okay. I know. But we knew this was coming. I just need to go to the res office and get a cheaper room. They’ll hook me up with a sleazy apartment off-campus. It’s no big deal. I just left it late, that’s all.”

“You can stay with me in my room until you move,” Scott said as he fiddled with a pair of swim goggles on my dresser. “I’ll help you move, too.”

“Thanks, dude,” I said, smiling at him. He lifted his head and smiled back, dimples popping out on his cheeks. “Mindy, you doin’ anything this weekend?”

“I love you, honey, but I don’t lift stuff. I’ll get Heather to tell Jeremy to help you guys.” She winked, yanking out her phone.