Chapter Four

Tristan took a quick break from looking at the paper in his hands to glance up at Chris. He blinked a few times before speaking. “What are you doing?” he slowly and skeptically asked. Chris froze, his hand on his semi-opened wallet, and stared back at Tristan.

“Paying for my half,” Chris innocently replied. Tristan was not satisfied with that answer. He fervently shook his head.

“Put that away,” he commanded. “I've got this.”

“It's not a problem, really,” Chris insisted, though he still did not move further. He kept his eyes on Tristan. Tristan leaned across the table and placed his hand on Chris's. Chris felt his stomach flip at the touch.

“I've got this,” Tristan firmly repeated. Chris gave him a reluctant look. “Listen, I'm the one who asked you out, I'll pay for dinner. It's only fair.”

“Well, I was gonna ask you before you asked me,” Chris mumbled. He looked down at their hands and thought for a few moments. “How about this – I'll pay for your part and you can pay for mine.”

Tristan stared hard at Chris, his jaw slightly tensed. “All right,” he calmly agreed, sitting back and retracting his arm. He briefly gazed at the check he had placed on the table, memorized the correct number, then slid it across the table for Chris to see.

Once they had compiled the appropriate amount of currency, Tristan brought it up to the register at the front of the restaurant. He told Chris to just go ahead and walk out to the car, but Chris had no intention of doing that. He did exit the building, only because it was oddly crowded for a Thursday evening and he didn't want to get in anyone's way. But he waited right outside the door for Tristan.

“You're really stubborn, you know that?” Tristan said as he noticed Chris waiting for him. Chris looked up at him and smiled.

“Is that a problem?” he asked, confident that he already knew the answer.

“No,” Tristan replied, bashfully ducking his head. “I kinda like it.” He scuffed his shoe on the ground a bit, then raised his head. “Come on, then, let's go. The theater awaits our presence.”

Chris smiled a little wider as they began to walk. “OK. So, I'm stubborn, and you're bossy–”

“Bossy?” Tristan interrupted, though he laughed a little. Chris shot him a look meant to say that Tristan knew he was right. “Well, fine, but you could at least use a more sophisticated word.”

Chris nodded as he laughed along. “I do spend an awful lot of time with Ty,” he said. “If I said you were... domineering, is that sophisticated enough for you?”

“Ooh, well, aren't you just the smartest man alive?” Tristan mocked. “You're like... a walking thesaurus or something.”

“I am the smartest man alive. Haven't you listened to a word Ty has ever said to you?” Chris opened the passenger door of his car like a perfect gentleman as Tristan sat inside. Tristan was smiling when Chris left to walk around to the other side, but as he slid into the driver's seat Tristan had put on a more pensive face, his index finger raised pointedly in the air.

“That reminds me,” Tristan began as Chris buckled his seatbelt, now shaking his finger ever so slightly. “I've been meaning to ask for a while – how old are you?”

Chris stared at Tristan for a few seconds, his eyes partially narrowed. “Shouldn't you know how old someone is before you, you know, ask them on a date?” Tristan quickly raised an eyebrow as if to say that it was probably a good idea. “I'm twenty-one.”

“Wow, you're a lot younger than I thought you were,” Tristan mused, running a hand over his chin. “I mean, you do look twenty-one, I just kinda figured you were closer to my age. Since you have a kid and all.” He repositioned himself and cleared his throat a bit. “So, you were... you were a teenager when you had Ty, then?”

“I was sixteen when he was born, yeah,” Chris said. By this point, they were pulling out of the restaurant's parking lot, so Chris had his eyes on the road. But he could sense that Tristan was staring at him, itching to hear more. “It's a long story, at least from my point of view, but... well, certain things happened and I ended up, at fifteen, impregnating a thirteen-year-old girl.”

Chris cringed at the memory of that fateful night, and at what this information must have sounded like to Tristan. He was probably loosing points all over the place. But, much to Chris's surprise, the next word out of Tristan's mouth was an astonishing, “Impressive.” Chris couldn't tell if he was being serious. He certainly sounded serious, but that didn't exactly mean anything at all.

“I'm lucky her parents didn't have me killed,” Chris exasperatedly replied. “Although, I guess Ty would really be the lucky one. Kirsten isn't a bad person or anything, but she's not very good as a mother.”

“You're a very good father,” Tristan said to him, and the admiration in his voice was quite apparent. Chris felt himself blush a little.

“Thank you. I try... Sometimes I worry that I'll think I'm doing all right, but in reality I'll have messed up his life and he'll hate me forever.” Chris took a moment to compose himself. He had begun to lose it at the thought of Ty hating him. “Actually, I worry about that a lot,” he hoarsely continued.

“You shouldn't worry about it, that kid worships you.” Chris glanced over at Tristan for a moment, as they were temporarily stopped at a red light. Tristan noticed that he looked rather doubtful. “Seriously. I think you would have to murder someone before he even considered hating you.”

Chris smiled a little. “Good to know,” he said. The light changed, and they drove off down the road once more. It was only another few minutes before they reached the movie theater. Tristan was out of the car before Chris was, though he waited at the back.

Chris hurriedly examined his reflection in the side-view mirror. Despite Ty's confirmation that afternoon that he looked “extremely handsome today,” he didn't exactly feel like it. Even though the date had gone exceedingly well thus far, Chris still felt as nervous as he had at the beginning of the night, if not just a tiny bit more. But he tried to shove his anxious feelings aside, and he hopped out of the car and caught up with Tristan.

“So... you thought I was closer to your age, then,” Chris began as they walked down the narrow sidewalk. “How old are you?”

Tristan looked up at Chris, lifted his eyebrows and ridiculed, “Shouldn't you know–”

“–know how old someone is before you accept a date with them?” Chris finished. He carelessly shrugged a shoulder. “Sure. Hypocrisy, I know. How old are you?” he asked again. Tristan grinned and held up his hands, all five fingers on the left and only two up on the right. Chris was quick to quip, “Oh, so, you're seven?”

Tristan laughed as he nodded. “Yep.” He breathed in deep and gathered a bit of confidence, as well as a bit of oxygen. He casually slid his hand against Chris's, and Chris flinched involuntarily at the touch he had certainly not been expecting. It did boost his confidence a little. They simultaneously moved to interlock their fingers. “What movie are we seeing, anyway?”

“Um...” Chris paused for several long moments, thinking. “That is a very good question. I don't even know what's playing.”

“We are such prepared and organized people,” Tristan remarked as they made it up to the doors of the theater. They stopped inside and managed to make a decision on the movie which they would be viewing, and who would pay for the tickets. It took them nearly ten minutes to decide, but they finally did.

Finding a seat in the theater was much easier. They sat somewhere in the middle of the rows, towards the end of the right side. Tristan sat closest to the aisle, though he rested his elbow on the armrest of the chair and slightly leaned into Chris.

There were still approximately twenty minutes before the movie was to start. They spent that time talking, as there was not much else to do. Tristan asked Chris about the situation with him and Kirsten, and Chris in turn informed Tristan all about how he had skipped going to college for Ty. Tristan thought that was rather sweet.

“Plus, you know, I didn't have any money to go,” Chris said. “I mean, my family is rich, but... they've sort of disowned me.”

“They have?”

“Yeah. My mother's reaction to me coming out was something along the lines of, 'Get out.'” Chris sighed, staring down at his hands. “Sometimes I remember that day and I can still hear her voice... the emotionless way she spoke... My father didn't say anything. I'm not sure which is worse.”

Tristan gently placed his hand on Chris's arm. “I'm sorry,” he softly said. Chris looked up and gave him a tiny smile, ignoring the butterflies in his stomach.

“It's OK. I have a lot of other people in my life who have been extremely supportive, and it helps.”

“I was lucky, I guess. When I told my parents they were just kinda confused at first, I think. But they accepted it.” Tristan glanced over his shoulder briefly, then turned back to the front of the theater just as quickly. “Shit,” he breathed, though it was loud enough for Chris to hear.

“What is it?” Chris asked. Tristan brought a hand up to his forehead and tried to make himself look less noticeable.

“My ex is in the row behind us,” he quietly said. “Of course, this would happen to me.” Chris looked back himself. There were only a few people in the row directly behind them. The one who stood out most was a man seated in solitude, his skin wrinkled and his head covered completely in light gray hair.

“That rather... um, aged man?”

“What?” Tristan sat up a little, and looked over at Chris. “No, no. The blonde girl.”

“Oh.” Chris examined the movie-goers once again. There was indeed a blonde girl sitting behind them, not many seats over. She looked up and Chris thought she had spotted him staring, but she didn't appear to have noticed him at all, only Tristan.

“Tristan?” she called, though her voice was lowered a bit in order to not disturb the whole theater. Tristan groaned and faced her; he had been caught, there was absolutely no use hiding any longer. He gave an unenthusiastic wave, then turned away.

“Is it time for the movie to start yet?” he impatiently asked. Chris took a look at the watch he had conveniently decided to wear that night.

“Another five minutes or so,” he answered, apologetically. Tristan sighed, then quickly shook his head.

“So, anyway, you were saying?”

“Actually, you were saying...” Chris told him, as he stared into Tristan's dark brown eyes. “About your parents.”

“Oh, right,” Tristan said. “Yeah, they didn't seem to understand how it was possible for someone to be attracted.... to...” He trailed off, slowly turning around. He seemed to have sensed a presence on his other side, and sure enough he found himself facing the blonde girl.

“Tristan, I'm so glad I ran into you,” she said, her tone desperate and high-pitched. “Listen, I wanted to call you, but you seemed to have changed your number, and you also moved, so I didn't know how to contact you. But this is great, I think we should talk–”

“Not now, Mary,” Tristan bitterly interrupted. “I'm kind of on a date.”

Mary leaned over to see past Tristan. Chris looked back at her and awkwardly waved. Then he focused his attention on the giant screen, feeling just a bit uncomfortable. “Oh,” she said. “Sorry.”

Mary remained seated next to Tristan, though none of the three spoke again before the lights dimmed and the previews began to play. Tristan took hold of Chris's hand again, which Chris smiled at. It was a very reassuring gesture.

Unfortunately, as the night went on and the movie ran its course, Chris's level of hope wavered until he was almost entirely certain that this would be their only date. It wasn't often that he saw it, but at least twice he noticed Mary leaning over to Tristan and whispering incoherent things to him. Tristan looked like he was trying his best to ignore her, but the last time Chris looked, just before the end of the film, the whispers were coming from Tristan.

Nevertheless, Chris was intent on remaining calm no matter what the night – or possibly even the next day – would bring. For a while it seemed as though they had lost Mary once they left the theater. As they walked out into the chilly and dark air, Tristan was in the middle of giving Chris a rather detailed review of the movie they had just seen. Chris had been listening, but staring down at the ground, so he didn't realize when Tristan had stopped walking.

“Wait, Chris,” Tristan said, pulling back Chris's arm to stop him before he went off the narrow sidewalk. Chris spun in place and faced the man before him; oddly enough he had never before noticed just how tall he was compared to Tristan, who couldn't have been more than five feet and nine inches, if that.

“Yeah?” Chris asked, finishing by biting his lip gently, preparing himself for what he knew was to come.

“I had a really great time tonight,” Tristan began with great sincerity. “You're a really nice guy... and you're also very hot. In a dorky sort of way.” Tristan smiled to indicate that this was meant to be taken as a compliment.

“I had a great time, too,” Chris carefully agreed.

“But, um...” Tristan turned his head to the side, his eyes glancing behind him. A blond woman stood in the distance, waiting. “Well, Mary wants to have a talk... So I think I'll just catch a ride home from her.” Tristan looked back at Chris, his eyes wrought with sympathy. “We'll probably end up getting back together. I'm sorry,” he quietly added.

“It's OK,” Chris said, with some confidence that what he was saying was true and indeed how he felt. “There's always that one person, right?”

“Yeah.” Tristan took a small step closer to Chris, though he kept his head down. “It's a shame, though. I've always wanted to fall in love with a boy. But I guess that's just not for me.” Chris felt just a tiny wave of sadness wash over him. Tristan looked up. “Is it too much to ask for just one kiss?”

Chris semi-consciously lifted a hand to Tristan's face and stroked his cheek. There was some part of him that was desperately trying to inform himself that there was not one good reason why he should be doing this, but that part failed to get the message through. He was halfway to bringing up his other hand and leaning in when Tristan grabbed both of his hands in midair. Chris froze momentarily while Tristan relocated Chris's hands, placing them firmly on his waist. Then Tristan wrapped his arms around Chris's shoulders and stretched his body up while simultaneously pulling Chris down towards him.

Tristan was apparently not at all shy about putting everything he had into the kiss, even though they were standing in the middle of a perfectly public place. In a way that made Chris feel better.

“I'm sorry,” Tristan whispered again, his lips a mere inch from Chris's. “But... it seems like you're waiting for someone else, anyway.”

“I am?”

“There's always that one person, right?” Tristan replied. “He's out there somewhere, waiting for you, too. He's a lucky guy.”

A pair of bright green eyes flashed in his mind, and Chris felt like his heart had sunken down into his stomach. “Oh...”

“I'll see you tomorrow, yeah?” Tristan said, and the conversation ended there. The night ended there. Tristan immediately walked away, and after only a few more moments, so did Chris.

Chris drove to Kirsten's apartment – a one-bedroom payed for entirely by her parents – in total silence. If he was alone in the car, he might usually turn on the radio to keep himself company, but not in this instance. He didn't even think about where he was driving or how he was driving. He just did it, and the entire time he kept replaying Tristan's words in his mind.

He knew who Tristan was talking about, or who he thought Tristan may have been talking about, even if Tristan had not intended to mean any specific person. But it didn't feel like that was true, and though Chris was so very young, he was overwhelmed by the feeling that it might take him forever to find the person Tristan actually meant. It seemed impossible that he had already met this someone.

For the few brief moments that he was not incessantly thinking about Jonathan, Chris wondered what he would be obsessing over had Tristan not said what he did. Perhaps he would have been questioning why exactly it was that he didn't feel as sad or annoyed as he should have with Tristan, because in truth he had just been treated rather poorly by someone he had really liked. He should have been pissed, but he thought it was safe to say that he mostly didn't care because Tristan didn't mean as much to him as Jonathan had, and that was all that Chris's mind could focus on.

It was approximately ten-thirty when Chris paused his agonizing, turned off the car, and made his way to Kirsten's door. Ty would no doubt have been asleep for a while now. Chris hated the idea of having to wake up Ty, but it was what had to be done.

“Hey!” Kirsten brightly greeted Chris as she opened the door. She didn't invite him in, or say anything else at all, which led him to feel slightly apprehensive.

“Hey,” Chris replied in a lackluster tone. “I assume he's asleep, right?” He also assumed Kirsten would understand who he was referring to, though he felt that needn't be said.

“Yeah, I was actually thinking that maybe he could just spend the night here,” she said. “I can take him to school in the morning.”

“He doesn't have any clothes-” Chris began, though as tentative as he sounded, he was certainly considering Kirsten's offer. He really did hate waking Ty up, which was one of the reasons he always made sure Ty was in his bed long before he was tired enough to fall asleep.

“He still has some stuff you left here from the last time he stayed the night,” Kirsten explained. “He's got his school stuff, and I have a class in the morning anyway. I can drop him off and you can pick him up later and bring him back home.”

Chris thought for a few minutes. Even though it almost felt like he was abandoning his child, a night to himself didn't sound half bad. And it was probably important for Ty to spend more time with his mother every now and then.

“All right,” he finally agreed. “Good night, then.”

Chris started to walk away, but Kirsten practically shouted, “No, wait!” She stepped outside the apartment, quietly shutting the door behind her. “So, how was your date?”

“It was... good,” Chris truthfully replied.

“But not bring-him-home-for-the-night good, huh?” Kirsten asked, deviously raising an eyebrow. Chris shook his head.

“He left with his ex-girlfriend. I suspect they're probably already back together,” he replied with a quick shrug. “And anyway, what makes you think that I do that sort of thing on a first date? I'm not you, after all.”

Kirsten dropped her mouth open in offense. “Excuse me? You know, you are just as bad as all those other girls in my high school.” As Kirsten continued, she used her hands to aid her speech. “Oh, Kirsten had a baby when she was fourteen, she must be a slut! It's not true! And I don't see why, but everyone has always thought I try to get with every guy I see!”

“Hey, I have that problem, too,” Chris joked. Kirsten was far from amused.

“Besides,” she snidely went on, “I'll have you know that next week is mine and Tom's six-month anniversary. So there.”

“Six months, wow,” Chris said with feigned impression. “The whole long distance thing is working for you guys, then?”

“Yes,” Kirsten plainly replied. “He's still in America, but next week he's going to fly over, and take me out to dinner.” Her voice grew an airy tone of admiration, like the love-sick teenage girl she was. “He is so sweet. I love him so much, I really do. I have no idea what I would do without him in my life.”

Chris tried to ignore what he felt was a stereotypically young misunderstanding of love, even though he couldn't be so sure that it wasn't that very particular emotion he had felt so long ago, and still longed for every now and then.

“Do you always have a thing for your brother's friends?” he asked.

Kirsten narrowed her eyes, though she may have actually been trying to remember how many of her romantic interests had not been linked to her brother in any way. “Well, you were never friends with Devon,” she answered.

“Kirsten,” Chris slowly began, placing a hand on her shoulder as if she were a child, “having a thing for me and having a thing with me are two totally different... um, things.”

Kirsten thought for a few moments, her expression twisted as if she had actually never thought of that before. She tried to ignore it. “Whatever,” she said.

“Yeah, well, speaking of, perhaps I should leave and you should go look after our child for once.” Chris wasn't sure if he was speaking to purposely anger Kirsten, but it seemed to be working regardless.

“Hey, you don't know what it's like to be in uni and constantly swamped with work,” she defensively snapped. “I mean, I barely have time to spend with my friends, let alone take care of a child. You have no idea what that's like.”

Chris refrained from rolling his eyes, refrained from pulling out the speeches about how Kirsten should have considered that while her clothes were still on or how he obviously had never had to make any sacrifices at all (which went well with the eye rolling). “And you,” he said, pointing his index finger at her while gradually walking away, “have no idea what it's like getting a five-year-old ready first thing in the morning.” He left at that point; he had considered finishing with a “good luck!” but he didn't feel much like using sarcasm, and there was no way he would have said it with any other inflection.