Matt felt queasy. “Should I just resign from my office? I could say that I’ve realized I’m overcommitted, that I can’t do soccer and SGA.”
Evan’s eyebrows furrowed.
Matt imagined the neurons in Evan’s brain lighting up, sifting and sorting what to say next, imagined the many tiny muscles involved in tugging those eyebrows into their various contortions. He wondered what shape they took when Evan climaxed.
Evan directed his gaze beyond the balcony. “Check out that pool,” he said, pointing with his chin.
Really? Matt was flummoxed that so much brow wrinkling on Evan’s part had only produced this non-sequitur of a sentence: “check out the pool.”
All the same, Matt gazed out at the pool. Townhomes overlooked it on all four sides, walling it in. It was early afternoon. The sun’s light glinted off the clear water. A few people sunbathed and frolicked. There were no particularly hot guys.
“Notice anything unusual?” Evan asked.
“No.” Matt wasn’t in the mood to playWhere’s Waldowith Evan.
Evan stretched his long legs, eased back in his chair. “Apartment complexes don’t have pools even a quarter that size. Most cities don’t either.”
Matt didn’t give a shit about the pool. Three things dominated his thoughts. First, what to do about SGA? Second, why had William betrayed him? Third,why was Evan disinterested in him. Did Evan rate himself as being a “10” and think Matt was beneath him? Just because Evan had a Mediterranean’s olive complexion, just because his hair and facial features were more Gallic than Greek did not make him some gay god.
Evan’s posture—legs stretched and askew—seemed suddenly arrogant to Matt. Matt sipped his chilled wine. It was refreshing in this heat. At least there was that.
Evan continued. “For decades this was the largest pool in the state. It has room for a thousand people.”
That got Matt’s attention. He saw the disparity now. The pool predated the complex—by decades. And it was huge. He was curious despite his anger. “Who built this pool?” he asked.
“It was part of the Wedgewood Village Amusement Park,” Evan said. “There were rides, games, even a roller coaster. The park closed in the late sixties. The pool and the pond out front are all that remain.”
Matt looked down into his wine glass. Hopefully now they could return to the topic of Colton Langley.
“Places have histories that follow them,” Evan said. “This giant pool only makes sense if you understand its story.”
No shit, Matt thought. That was probably true for most places. He was beginning to regret coming here today. He hadn’t found William. He’d been stuck with Evan who viewed himself as too hot for a hookup with him. And, oh yeah, he’d had to endure a history lesson about the Wedgewood pool! Throw in Gay Chapel and this was proving to be a banner day.
Matt felt Evan’s eyes boring into him. He looked up from the well of his wine glass, made eye contact.
“People are like that, too,” Evan said, emphasizing his words. “They have histories that follow them.”
So that was it, Matt thought. The whole pool story had been a parable to pave the way for the real topic: someone’s dark personal history. It must be a doozy of a story to merit the pool parable.
Matt hazarded a guess. “These histories that follow people. Are we talking about you?”
Evan shook his head.
Matt tried again. “William?”
Evan gave a Mona Lisa smile. “Have you noticed the ring that William wears on a chain around his neck?”
Matt started to shake his head, but then remembered having glimpsed something shiny hangingfrom that chain.
“He never takes it off,” Evan said. “It was a sort of promise ring his first love gave him their senior year in high school. William is from Bartlesville, you know. His dad is a bigwig in Phillips Oil, which is headquartered there.”
“And?” Matt prompted. There was obviously more to this story.
“And do you know who else is from Bartlesville?”
“No.”
“Colton Langley,” Evan said.
