Page 15 of Finally

“Of course, I’ve heard of Carter’s Creed. Who hasn’t? They’re the pride of Chicago, not to mention their music is incredible.”

“Yeah, they’re great. I still see them every once in a while. My boss is married to Carter Greene’s brother and they’ll stop in the office sometimes to see Micah.”

“Wow! That’s awesome. Most of the famous people I know are old, stodgy politicians,”

Topher joked.

I laughed. “Well, you’re not stodgy or old.”

“Thanks. Maybe I’m not stodgy, but I sure feel older than my years lately,” he said with a chuckle.

“So, what made you decide to go into politics, since it clearly wasn’t the stimulating company?” I teased.

Topher shrugged. “I went to school to be a lawyer. I thought I’d be able to make a difference there, you know, help people out.”

“You always did want to make the world a better place,” I murmured, remembering all the times he had me scrubbing pots and pans or dishing up food at the local soup kitchen. I’d never known anyone who did that kind of stuff, giving up their free time just to help others, until I met Topher.

“Well, I became a prosecuting attorney, and at first, it was great. I was representing innocent people and helping them fight for the justice they deserved. A lot of my clients were from poor neighborhoods. Regular Joes trying to live their lives and take care of their families. Then, for whatever reason, tragedy would strike those people down, but instead of having the support of their society, they often found themselves having to pick up the pieces all on their own. Sure, they’d make the evening news. Just another mother crying about her son being shot in the streets, tucked in somewhere between a story on the latest credit card scams and the weather.” I glanced back and forth between Topher and the road, hanging on every word.

“Occasionally, things would go our way and we’d get to celebrate, but most of the time, there was no justice to be found. There was a young boy, barely a teenager. His mother told me he’d always been a good kid, quiet, top of his class. Some kids at school figured out he was gay, and they started harassing him. His mother did all the right things. She called the school and told them what was happening, even gave them a list with the kids’ names. The school said they hadn’t seen anything, and they couldn’t take one boy’s word over six others. She then reported it to the police, but they told her they couldn’t do anything until a crime was actually committed. A week later, her son was beaten to death in an alley. The news labeled it as gang violence and the same police department that she’d reported her son’s harassment to went along with it because it was easier, less messy than admitting that they’d stood by and allowed a hate crime to be committed.”

Topher, obviously still very distraught over what had happened, began to shake as he told me the story. My knuckles turned white as I gripped the steering wheel, fighting the urge to reach over and take his hand.

“Anyway, that’s what made me decide to run for office. I knew that nothing was going to change for these people unless we started making changes at the top. Society needs to work as a whole if we truly want things to get better and we need to concentrate on making things better for everyone, not just the wealthy and privileged.”

“Wow!”

“You don’t have to say it. I’ve been criticized before for being too idealistic. Most people don’t believe the kind of changes I’m talking about could ever happen. But if I can get even one person to listen and change their way of doing things, then I figure it’s already started.”

“No, you misunderstood. I wasn’t criticizing you. I just saw what my boss was talking about when he said you were the man who was going to make things happen. You deserve to win this election, Topher.” I realized what I’d said the moment the name left my mouth and my eyes widened, but Topher just smiled.

“Thank you. That means an awful lot coming from you,” he said softly. He squeezed my hand and I felt my heart skip a beat. Calm down. You’re just having a conversation…with a very attractive man…who you used to be in love with. None of this means anything.

I could tell that Topher was feeling drained from the emotions of the conversation, so I flipped on the radio and tuned it to a rock station. We rode the rest of the way in relative silence, but things were definitely more comfortable between the two of us. Topher spent the time looking over his notes, which gave my mind time to wander back to when we were teenagers.

“My parents both have to work late tonight, so I’m on my own for dinner. I’m thinking we should celebrate that B+ you got and order pizza, maybe watch a movie? What do you say? Oh wait. Are your folks expecting you home for dinner?” Christopher asked.

We’d gotten together after school every day for the last two months so he could tutor me, and so far, I’d already managed to raise two of my grades up to a C-. I was grateful for all the work he was putting into helping me and I felt bad that I couldn’t pay him in some way, even though I’d held up my end of the bargain and had spent every Saturday volunteering alongside him at the soup kitchen. Most of the work they had us do was gross, like washing dirty dishes or taking out the trash, but I didn’t mind because it meant I got to spend even more time with him. I also discovered that most of the people there were even worse off than my family and it felt really good to do something nice for them.

As nice as he was, I kept wondering when it was going to happen. When he’d decide that he had better things to do or he was tired of me being at his house all the time. Every day after school, I’d wait by his locker, holding my breath and bracing myself for disappointment, but then I’d see him, walking toward me in the hall, and something would settle inside me. Every single time, his eyes would meet mine and he’d smile as if he were really happy to see me and my skin would suddenly feel too tight, like I might burst out of it at any second.

“No, my parents won’t care. They won’t even notice I’m not there,” I told him. Christopher gave me a peculiar look, but then he opened one of the kitchen drawers and pulled out a pile of take-out menus and tossed them on the counter.

“What do you like on your pizza? Or we could order something else if pizza doesn’t sound good,” he offered.

I rolled my eyes at him. “I’m a teenage guy. Pizza always sounds good,” I pointed out. He laughed, and after we’d settled on which toppings to get, he sent me into the living room to pick out a movie while he called in our order. A few minutes later, he walked in and tossed me a can of Pepsi.

“What’d you decide?” he asked.

“Con Air?” My answer came out sounding more like a question. I felt bad that he was always having to watch movies that he’d already seen, but he insisted that he liked watching them over and over and would be watching them even if I wasn’t there.

“Excellent choice,” he said, taking the VHS tape from my hands. He pulled it out of the case and slid it into the VCR before settling on the couch beside me. I was confused when he didn’t automatically pick up the remote and click the fast-forward button, but when I turned to him, he wasn’t even looking at the TV. He was staring at me instead, his head tilted to the side.

“Do you consider us friends, Greg?”

My heart began to hammer in my chest and my palms grew slick. Had I somehow given away my true feelings for him? Was this the part where he was going to explain that he just didn’t like me that way and that we would only ever be friends? Everything inside me screamed to lie, to make him believe that all I wanted was his friendship because if that was all he was willing to give, I’d take it. If it meant I could continue hanging out with him, I’d take it. And part of it was true. Christopher was my friend. He was the best friend I’d ever had. I just wouldn’t mention to him the other part about me being absolutely crazy about him.

“Uh, yeah. Of course, we’re friends,” I answered. My voice was barely more than a whisper, but he was sitting close enough that he still heard me.

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