'They have a good fine arts department. And a great drama department of course.” Lionel knew he hadn't chosen his major yet.

“I don't think that's my style.” John smiled shyly at the older boy. He had always admired him.

“Are you living on campus next year?”

John looked hesitant. “I'm not sure. My Mom thinks I should live in the dorm, which doesn't appeal to me much. I think I'd rather live at home.”

Lionel looked pensive for a time as they moved gently on the swing. “I think one of my roommates is moving out.” He looked thoughtfully at John, wondering how he would fit in. He was still very young, but he was a decent kid. He didn't smoke, didn't drink, didn't seem to raise too much hell, certainly nothing like Greg. He was a lot like Li's roommates, most of whom Lionel liked. Occasionally, they got rowdy on Saturday nights, but they weren't completely wild, and unlike a lot of other freshmen and sophomores, they didn't choose to live like pigs. They kept the apartment fairly clean, two of them had girlfriends who slept there a lot, but they didn't bother anyone, and Lionel came and went as he pleased. No one asked him a lot of questions anymore. Sometimes he wondered if they knew, but no one said anything, and no one asked. It was a good group, and John Wells might just make a good fifth. “Would you be interested, John? The rent is pretty cheap.” He looked at him. “How would your parents feel about your living off campus first year? Actually, it's just across the street, but it's not the dorms.” He grinned, and looked just like Faye as he did. He had grown from boyhood into manhood that year, and he was a beautiful young man. People often stared at him in the street with his graceful build, long limbs, big green eyes, and golden hair. And he wore quiet clothes that set off his good looks in a casual way. He could have been in films if he'd wanted to, but that end of the camera had never appealed to him. He looked at John now, and the younger boy felt something stir in him. “What do you think?”

His eyes lit up with quiet excitement as he glanced up at Lionel. “Boy, I'd love to find a place like that. I'll ask them tomorrow, first thing.”

Lionel smiled. “No rush. I'll just tell the others I know someone who's interested. I don't think anyone is worried about it yet.”

“How much is it? My Dad'U want to know.” John's parents were comfortable, but careful. He was the oldest child of five, and they were going to have four in college in the next four years, not unlike the Thayers, although Lionel's Dad worried less than John's. But Ward had two or three successful films under his belt every year, and John's did not. He was a plastic surgeon in Beverly Hills, and his Mom did a little decorating for her friends when she had time. She looked great though. She had had her eyes done the year before, her nose bobbed several years before that, and that summer she was going to have implants done in her breasts. Besides, she looked great in a bathing suit. And his sisters were pretty nice-looking too, he always thought. Greg had gone out with two of them, and one of them had had an eye on Lionel for years. But he had never seemed interested, and John had never wondered why.

“Divided by five, the rent only comes to sixty-six dollars a month, John. It's a five-bedroom house in Westwood, and the landlady is pretty good about staying off our backs. There's no pool, and there's only room for two cars in the garage. You'd have a good-sized bedroom, looking out on the front, and you share a bath with two other guys. The room comes with a bed and a desk. You'd have to supply the rest yourself, unless Thompson wants to sell his junk. He's going East to Yale for the next two years.”

“Wow!” John's eyes were all alight with excitement. “Wait till I tell my Dad!”

Lionel smiled. “Want to come by tomorrow and have a look at it? There are only going to be two of us there this summer, which will make the rent pretty steep. But it's too much trouble to move back in here,” he shrugged and looked vague, “and I don't know … it's easier, once you move out, I think it would be hard to come home again.” Especially in his case, there would be so many questions asked that he didn't have to contend with now. And he liked the freedom he had. And with only one other boy there that summer, it would almost be like his own place. He was looking forward to it.

“Yeah, I know … can I come and see it tomorrow?” It was Saturday and Lionel didn't have any plans. All he was going to do was sleep late and do some laundry. And he had been invited to a party that night, but he was free all day.

“Sure.”

“Nine o'clock?”

John looked like a five-year-old kid waiting for Santa Claus to come, and Lionel laughed. “How about noon?”

“Great.” They abandoned the swing then, and Lionel gave John a ride home. And after he dropped him off at the miniature French mansion where he lived in Bel-Air, with the regulation Cadillac and Mercedes parked outside in plain view, he drove slowly home, thinking about John. He felt something he couldn't deny, but he didn't know if it was appropriate in this case. He suspected not, and he had no intention of taking advantage of him. The offer of the room in his house was sincere. He wasn't setting John up, but he had to admit, having him so close could be difficult, or … and as his thoughts whirled around as he pulled up in front of the house he shared with the four other boys, he suddenly wondered if Paul had felt that way about him. There was an odd kind of responsibility to reaching out to someone like John … especially if it was the first time … and Lionel suspected it would be…. He almost shook himself then. What was he thinking of? What if John didn't feel that way at all? He'd be crazy to make a pass at him. He reminded himself of that several times as he brushed his teeth and went to bed. He was crazy to even consider it, he told himself as he lay in the dark, trying not to think of him. But John's innocent young face kept coming to mind again and again … the powerful legs … broad shoulders … narrow hips … he could feel himself becoming aroused, just thinking of him…. “No!” He said it aloud in the dark, and turned over, instinctively stroking himself, as he tried to force John out of his mind, but it was impossible, and his whole body shuddered with desire, as he thought of John diving into the pool earlier that night … and all that night, as he slept, Lionel dreamt of him … running on a beach … swimming in a deep tropical sea … kissing him … lying at his side…. He awoke with a dull ache that refused to go away, and he took his bike out and went for a long ride before anyone else got up, anxiously waiting for noon, and promising himself that he was going to tell John the room had been rented to someone else. That was the only way out. He could have called, but he didn't want to. He would tell him when he came to the house at noon … he would … that was the best way … tell him to his face … that was the only way.





CHAPTER 19




When Greg woke up the morning after his graduation bash, he had the worst hangover of his life, and he had already had quite a few. His head throbbed, his stomach was upset. He had woken up twice during the night and thrown up, once on his bathroom floor, and he thought he would die when he tried to stand up at eleven o'clock the next day. But his father saw him staggering downstairs, and handed him a cup of black coffee, a piece of toast, and a glass of tomato juice with a raw egg in it. Just looking at it all made him feel sick again, but his father insisted that he force it down.

“Make an effort, son. It'll do you good.” He seemed to speak from experience, and Greg trusted him, so he did his best, and was amazed when he felt a little better afterwards. Ward handed him two aspirins for his head and he gulped them down, and he felt almost human by noon, as he stretched out in the sun at the pool. He glanced over at Val, her lush figure poured into a bikini Faye didn't like her to wear when there was anyone else around, but with family it was all right. It was barely more than a piece of string, but Greg had to admit it looked great on her.

“Great party, wasn't it, Sis?”

“Yeah.” She opened an eye and looked at him. “You sure got drunk enough.”

He looked unconcerned. “Were Mom and Dad mad?”

“I think Mom would have been, but Dad kept telling her it was your graduation night.” She grinned. She had had quite a few beers too, and the music had been good. They had all danced a lot, before passing out.

“Just wait till it's your turn. You'll probably go nuts.”

“It's my turn next.” Except that she would have to share it with Van. That was the one thing she hated about being twins, you always had to share everything with someone else. And Faye had never understood that she wanted to be separate, to do things by herself, to have her own friends. She always treated them as though they were one, and Valerie had spent her whole life fighting that, making a point of how different they were, at all costs. And still nobody understood. It ruined everything. But not for much longer. Only two more years at home, and then she was moving out. Vanessa said she was going to college in the East, but she knew exactly what she was going to do. She was going to take classes at acting school. Not UCLA drama school, the real thing, the kind working actors went to between jobs, and she was going to start looking for work. She'd get her own apartment. She wasn't going to waste her time going to college. Who needed that? She was going to be an actress, and a bigger one than her mother had ever been. She had set that goal for herself years before, and she had never swerved from that desire.

“What are you looking so uptight about?” Greg had been watching her as she thought, and she was wearing an ominous frown. She usually looked like that when she was plotting against some poor slob she had the hots for. But she only shook the long red hair back now, and shrugged. She hadn't told anyone what she was going to do. They would just give her a hard time. Greg would try and talk her into being a physical therapist, or an acrobat, or getting a dumb athletic scholarship somewhere, Vanessa would try and talk her into going to school in the East with her, Lionel would have some other dumb idea, like going to UCLA because he did. Mom would make speeches about education, Dad would tell her how bad makeup was for her skin, and Anne would look at her as though she were a freak. She knew all of them too well after sixteen years of living with them.