Sweet Spot Ch. 01

"Elaine, Kostas and I need to get going," Anna said, ignoring Kostas' immediate protest. "Do you want us to give you a lift?"

"Uhm, that would be nice." She stretched up and Andy obligingly lowered his head, so that she could buss his cheek. "Bye, darling. Let's do this again in less than half a year's time, hmmm? Goodbye, Mr. Pappas."

Andy and Paul watched them go. Only Kostas turned briefly to wave another goodbye.

"Anna's okay," Andy said as he sat uninvited at Paul's table, though Paul hadn't asked for an explanation. "She just worries too much about me."

"She knows you're gay?"

"Yes, of course," Andy responded, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

"So what's she worried about? That you'll be taken advantage of by some money-grubbing tennis coach?"

Andy laughed. "No, not really. More that I'll damn my eternal soul by taking advantage of a poor tennis coach by offering him more money or gifts than he can bear to refuse."

"I don't need money," Paul retorted, stung.

"No, I wouldn't think you do. You're Paul Pappas, after all. Sorry I didn't recognize you before."

"So your cousin doesn't care about you being gay, just about you potentially being a sugar daddy?" Paul tried to clarify.

"Basically. Well, she also gets the fact that I don't like having sex with women, but she doesn't particularly want to have to acknowledge the fact that I fuck men."

"And what? She assumes you fuck every guy you meet?"

"Every sexy, good-looking guy, whom I'm obviously happy to see, whose name I know, but not what he does for a living? Yeah, probably," Andy said, sounding pleased about it.

Paul thought about it for a while, decided he'd been paid a compliment, and smiled.

"I went back to S-CAPE four times in the past two weeks, hoping you'd be there," he admitted. "Will you please give me your phone number and last name, so that I never have to go back again?"

"I did, too, last Tuesday and again on Friday. I have to say, that place isn't nearly as much fun when you're only looking for one specific person, and he never shows. Plus I googled you, and found out all about your glorious past."

"Not so glorious," Paul said dismissively.

"Listen, this time around my place is only three blocks away. Are you done here? Can you come over?"

"Yeah. I'd like that," Paul smiled. "I just need to get my stuff and my bike."

"Okay. I walked here, so I'll wait for you at the front gate?"

Paul started towards the locker room, but turned, when Andy called his name.

"I'm really, really glad I found you," Andy said softly, and Paul nodded jerkily, then turned away again, his heart almost bursting out of his chest.

Zois caught up with him as he was unlocking his bike.

"Was that Andreas Giannopoulos I saw you with?"

"Yeah. He's a friend of mine," Paul responded, though he wasn't sure he could make that claim just quite yet, seeing as this was the first time he'd even heard Andy's full name.

Zois' mouth curled in disgust. "Einai poustis," he said, and Paul knew enough Greek to understand that. He's a fag.

Paul gripped the handlebars of his bike so tightly, his knuckles turned white. It took him a few long seconds, but he was finally able to look up and meet Zois' eyes, and his voice couldn't have been clearer or calmer.

"Ki ego eimai." So am I.

He waited for Zois' eyes to drop, then he wheeled his bike towards the gate, where he could see Andy waiting for him, his heart both lighter and fuller than he could ever remember it.