Life's Pageant

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Terry picked up the receiver slowly, brought it to his mouth and said as casually as he could, "Hello?"

"Hello, Terry? Is that you?" The voice sounded very nervous.

Terry sighed. "Yes, it's me, Michael."

"Oh good. Listen, would you like to go somewhere this Friday? Maybe... er... maybe go and see a movie?" There was utter silence on both lines as both boys fidgeted with telephone cords. Then slowly Terry smiled.

"Sounds wonderful."

"Can you pick me up at six?"

Terry gazed absently at the yellowing wallpaper of the wall opposite him. "I'll be there."

"Fantastic," said the voice merrily. "See you then."

"See you," said Terry. He put the receiver back and leaned against the wall.

In the weeks after Terry left Oxford Michael couldn't stop staring at the slip of paper Terry had given him, lonely and worried. In the few days that separated the phone call from Friday, Michael grew ever more anxious. Anxious to see Terry and to hear his voice and no no, that thought was unthinkable. He forced a grim expression back onto his face.

And finally Friday evening arrived, thankfully not menaced by clouds. And so did Terry's car. Michael stood there staring out the window at it for several minutes. Then he gathered up his nerves and stepped out the door, insides crawling like mad.

Michael crawled into the tiny car and was greeted by the overwhelming scent of cigarettes and cologne. He gave Terry a brilliant smile. "How's the flat?"

"Boring," giggled Terry. "Shall we go to the Odeon then?"

Michael bit his lip and stared out the passenger side window at Brasenose. "Er... could we maybe go somewhere outside Oxford?" He turned to look back at Terry, who smiled graciously.

"Yeah, course we can." The car pulled away from the college and wound its way out of Oxford. "There's a park round here..."

Before too long the car stopped in a park. The cinema was a little ways away, behind a grassy expanse of trees and benches, and the two began walking towards it sharing stories of university and post-university life. Michael couldn't help feeling giddy.

"So what is it exactly that you do over there?"

"Script supervising," moaned Terry. "It's, you know, insignificant tedious stuff, incomprehensibly dull."

"Well it's a damn sight better than advanced philosophy. At least you're in television. Are the people all right?" asked Michael.

Terry laughed. "They're all right, I suppose."

Michael hesitated a moment. "How's your girlfriend doing?"

He watched Terry purse his lips on another smile. "Same as ever. She's been kinda getting on my nerves though." Michael gave a soft hum. Terry looked up at him.

"Have you got a girlfriend?"

Michael grinned proudly. "Nope."

Terry found himself grinning as well. He rather liked that answer...

Once under the dim light of the cinema they took their seats in the row under the balcony, behind a boy seemingly more interested in his companion's ear than the screen. Terry took all this in with a smirk. Disgraceful... it made him wonder a bit about Michael's picking these seats out. Oh well. Michael was already settled into his and crossing his legs calmly.

During the film Terry let his eyes drift over the boy sitting beside him. Michael had on a pair of snug dark trousers, which wrapped round his long legs and fell down over his dark brown shoes. His hand would occasionally drop to his thigh, pick at the fabric and scratch gently, and again climb up to the armrest. The couple in front of them started snogging madly. Terry contemplated the hand again. It looked as though Michael wouldn't mind... all he had to do was lift up his and put it there on Michael's, just really slowly... he started to panic. And soon enough the movie had ended and the lights had come back on. Michael rose from his seat and Terry blinked away all thoughts of that hand touching his.

He offered Michael a coffee as they walked past a little cafe, which Michael gladly accepted. They sat down at a little table with their coffees, under the shimmering light of a lamp glowing fiercely against the night sky.

Michael noticed one of the couples that had been in the cinema sitting at the next table over. And another couple... giggling and embracing each other. He noticed that he and Terry were the only two there that weren't a couple. His hand froze on his coffee. Then it started to tremble.

He realised that what he was on was not a friendly outing, but a date. It was a date.

Michael carefully raised his eyes to Terry's and saw that his friend was now gazing quite intently at Michael's mouth. Not a good sign. "Erm," he began to stutter, "ah... I... getting rather... rather late... shall we get going?"

Terry's eyes snapped up to his. He looked slightly surprised. "Ah... sure."

They abandoned their coffees and walked back to the car in silence. This silence continued as they journeyed back into Oxford, icy, chilling, skin-prickling silence. The car slid to a halt in front of Brasenose.

Michael started to fumble with his seat belt. "Thanks for the coffee," he muttered.

"Don't mention it."

"I'll... I'll call you then."

Terry laughed quietly. "I'll be waiting."

Michael slowly lifted his gaze to Terry's again. He could hear his heart thudding loud in his chest. He wasn't moving.

Then Terry started to lean closer to his seat. He still wasn't moving. Terry's eyes were on his mouth again. His eyes dropped to Terry's mouth. Terry's lips were parted, Michael could taste his breath as he leaned in closer, closer to Michael's face. And Michael couldn't take it any longer.

"Terry, wait," he gasped. His hand flew up between them and stopped Terry. "I - I'm not gay."

They stared at each other a minute. The look on Terry's face was extraordinary; his eyes had gone dark and the lids heavy, his lips were still opened and the breaths short and fast. Then it became a moody pout.

"All right. Will you still call me then?"

"Of course." Michael smiled brightly at him, though his heart still hammered away madly. This seemed to shake all the previous tension from Terry and was met with a grateful smile.

They bid each other goodnight, Michael got out of the car and walked back through the doors. Terry watched him go in a daze.

He let his body fall onto the car seat, laid his head in the spot where Michael's lap had just been. Still warm. He let his eyelids fall shut and laid there still and quiet.


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