Chapter 7

Tracy looked at the envelope with a sense of trepidation. Would Charlie let her off the hook or was this his final expression of anger and disgust? She dropped the rest of the mail on the hall table and ran up to her room, closing the door and lying on her bed to read the good or bad news.

His handwriting was so neat and precise it was like it was mechanically generated, as easy to read as a typewritten page. She took a deep breath and slid the two pages from the envelope:

Dear Tracy,

Thanks for your dogged persistence in sending the e-mail. I don't want to be the kind of person who carries a grudge forever. Today I guess the anger was softened enough to make me want to know what you had to say.

It would be pointless to rehash my feelings about what happened but since then I've given a lot of thought to how my life is going. I've met a couple of people here who make me believe that taking refuge from the world isn't the most effective means of normalizing my life. It's still early times yet but I'm going to try my best to look people in the eye and demand a little respect.

I still think what you and Mom did was a poorly conceived scheme but it might have worked if I hadn't overheard her talking to you on the phone. I'm sure that a part of the pain I felt was due to the demolition of some irrational fantasies about you that I was starting to construct in my own hormone-flooded brain. But what's done is done.

I'm not sure I buy the comment about you having a crush on me but I appreciate the sentiment. I can tell from your letter that you're not the shallow person I thought but I know you can pick and choose when it comes to boyfriends so I won't delude myself that I'm on your short list.

As for friendship, yes, I'd like to have you as a friend. I'd like to be able to write to you and talk to you about personal things. We've both learned some hard lessons and that should count for something, right?

Tomorrow I start working at TelCom. I've already met some of the people there and I'm sure I'm going to like it. I've also made a friend here on campus. He's a guy who likes to run as much as I do and his twin sister has the same kind of facial distortion as I do, only not so bad because hers was partially corrected as an infant.

Anyhow, things are going well here so far. Thanks again for persisting with the letter. Let's just say all the embarrassment and pain is behind us now, OK?

Your friend,
Charlie

Tracy wiped the tear from her cheek. He still didn't trust her but what he wrote was more than she had a right to hope for. Maybe in time ... She read the letter once more and then held it to her breast. She loved that he had written an actual letter instead of sending a reply to her e-mail. The letter represented something of him, a personal, physical thing that she could keep as a treasured memento. From now on, she'd write letters as well.

She started to pick up the phone and call Fran Werther to let her know Charlie had written to her but changed her mind. This was between her and Charlie and nobody else.

She swiped some writing paper and an envelope from her mom's desk and sat down to answer his letter.

Charlie had been thinking a lot about his sexual encounter with Marty and his feelings were mixed. At first, he could hardly wait for an opportunity to have a repeat session, popping an erection when he thought about how awesome his first blowjob felt. But as he considered how much his relationship with his new – and only – friend in California meant to him, he began having second thoughts. If he were being completely honest with himself, he knew he wasn't gay, at least not gay the way Marty was. He didn't feel like he was being completely honest about it and that bothered him.