Matt has made repeated sexual advances on me. He has asked me to perform sexual acts on him, things I won’t describe here. Things that disgust me. Things I have refused to do.
I am straight and don’t want to sin.
Respectfully,
Paul Olson
Matt felt gut punched. This had been the shittiest day of his life. Correction: second shittiest. Nothing trumped getting raped. Still, second place to rape was pretty fucking shitty.
Someone was gunning for him, had written this letter andinstructed Paul to copy it and hand it to the dean. Paul had never been to his room before tonight. Matt had never made advances on Paul.
Matt knew only one someone vile enough to write such lies. Someone who excelled at getting gay kids kicked out of MCU. Someone who had threatened him and his friends: Colton Langley.
“Who gave this to you?” Matt asked.
“That guy I thought was my friend. The one who’s been coming to my room to play chess.” Fresh tears streaked Paul’s cheeks.
“What’s his name? Is it Colton Langley? I told you to stay away from him.”
Paul shook his head. “Mike. Odd last name. Sounds Klingon.”
In other circumstances Matt would have smiled at Paul’sStar Trekreference. Not tonight.
“Mike Huebsch? Short? Skinny? Looks like a ferret?”
Paul nodded.
Matt’s instincts had been correct. Huebsch was Colton’s toady, and Matt had not thought to warn Paul about Huebsch. One question remained, though: what made Colton think Paul would write this letter and give it to the dean? What leverage did they have against Paul?
“You know Mike’s been coming to my room to play chess,” Paul said. “He always insisted we play when my roommate was gone. Mike said he wanted the door closed so he could concentrate. Nothing happened, but everyone in my dorm has seen him coming to my room, seen the door closed.”
Paul sniffled. “Tonight, Mike showed me two letters. The one you’re holding is the one I’m supposed to write about you. If I don’t, he’ll hand the dean the other letter, the one from him, claiming that I came onto him. Basically, same accusations. I just have to choose whether it is you or me that gets screwed, school-wise. I’m not gonna tell lies about you just to save my skin.”
“And I’m not gonna let you take the fall either,” Matt said. “There has to be a way out of this.”
Paul shook his head. “It’s a classic chess move. Called a ‘fork.’ The same piece, the black knight, for example, is positioned to capture either of two white pieces. The white player gets one move. He can save one piece, but not both.”
Chapter 24: Order in the House
9/18/’95
Mustang,
You crack me up with your whole “what a coincidence” that you watch “All My Children!” Is that what strikers do—on and off the field? Swoop in for the score?
I like AMC’s Mateo and Haley storyline as well, but, honestly, Mateo’s not my type. Not that I’ll be dating anyone in the near future. I’m still on house arrest, plus my dad’s not jazzed about this “gay thing,” as he calls it.
Augbergine is more elegant than “eggplant.” Eggplant is a shade of purple, but so much more sophisticated, with its red and black tones. Anyway, I’m partial to it, but maybe because I’m vegetarian.
Any soccer updates?
You asked about my favorite graphic artist. Here are a few hints. He was American. He tied another artist for most covers of the “Saturday Evening Post” (322). But he also had over 80 covers of “Colliers” as well. And he was gay.
Solve that riddle and maybe I’ll let you see some of my work.
Your friend,
Adam
