“Jesus Christ, Wynter, what the hell did you pack in here?”
“Didn’t we go over this once before?”
“Well, what did you expect? This is everything I own.”
“I know. I know.”
“Come here,” I pulled Ally to me and kissed him. “Let’s just get this crap upstairs and then we can go to bed. Okay?” He put his arms around my waist and pulled me tighter.
“Promise?” he pouted.
“Jesus Christ, Wynter, what the hell did you pack in here?”
“Didn’t we go over this once before?”
“Well, what did you expect? This is everything I own.”
“I know. I know.”
“Come here,” I pulled Ally to me and kissed him. “Let’s just get this crap upstairs and then we can go to bed. Okay?” He put his arms around my waist and pulled me tighter.
“Promise?” he pouted.
“I promise. Now, pick up your end and help me get this up the stairs.”
Ally and I had been together since that night with Ricky. We had finished our finals two days before and now we were moving into a loft we were sharing with Tarin and Erin. We all had jobs in the city, so we weren’t going home for the summer. Not that I had a home to go to anyway, now that John and I were over.
I had an internship with a local photographer. Ally was an errand runner for a nearby gallery. Tarin was interning at MTV and Erin was waiting tables at a couple of restaurants. We found the loft over Spring Break and intended to stay there for the rest of school. It was a huge open space with a room on each end and a kitchen in the middle. Erin and I fell in love with it the first time we saw it. The boys didn’t care as long as they had a place to sleep.
“Mmm, what’s that smell?” Ally called as we hauled the last of our stuff into the loft.
“Pizza,” Tarin said, his mouth full.
“God, didn’t you guys get tired of that in the dorm? We have a kitchen now, you know,” I complained.
“We were too tired to cook,” Tarin said through another mouth full.
“Whatever,” I gave up dropping the box in our room. It felt weird saying “our room” in reference to me and Ally. I realized I hadn’t had my own room in two years. Since that fateful summer that I ran away with John.
John. That name still made me a little dizzy, like he was still here. Still a part of me, but he wasn’t. I’m still not sure how to cope with that. I mean does a part of you love your first love forever or does it go away? Will the thought of him always fill me with mixed emotions of pain, resentment, loss, and love? Why, now that I had Ally the one I had wanted since I broke up with John, did I still feel like deep down inside I still wanted John? Was Ally just a rebound guy?
“Wyn, honey, why are you just standing there staring off into space? Come and eat.”
“Sorry, baby, I’m coming.” Maybe I’m thinking about it too much.
The world settled into routine. Although, I had learned my lesson about routine with Ricky, I was still inclined to settle into it. The internship went well and Ally and I were getting closer by the minute. I finished Junior year without any major incidences.
Then the summer after Junior year the strangest thing happened. I was watching MTV and they were interviewing John about his new single.
“Winter? Why did you call it Winter?” the girl asked as flirtatiously as she could manage.
“I don’t know. Kinda like Iris, I suppose, I just liked the way it sounded.” I could just see the lie hanging there in front of him. It way be spelled differently, but we both knew the truth.
“There were some rumors that the song was actually about someone you used to date.”
“Yeah, I heard those too.”
“Are they true?”
“Now, what kind of man would I be if I kissed and told?”
“So they are true?”
“I didn’t say that.”
“Well, here’s the video for the Goo Goo Dolls’ new single”
In the video there was a girl there was a girl who was in love with John and another girl, but in the end she chose John.
“Pretty risqué for the Goo Goo Dolls, don’t you think? I mean, bisexuality is a big issue.”
“Nah, good old-fashioned love between a boy and a girl won out in the end. It was just a phase for the girl.” I turned off the TV and threw the remote down.
“That bastard. That unbelievable bastard. A phase. A fucking phase.”
“Wynter, what are you shouting about?” Erin came running in.
“It’s bad enough that we’re not even accepted by the gay community, but he has to go and tell the whole world that.”
“Who’s not accepted? Tell the world what?”
“A phase. A fucking phase. Oh, I could kill him. Does he even realize what he’s doing? How hard it is for us to be accepted as it is?”
“Who, Wynter, who are you talking about?” she sat down in exasperation.
“Bisexuals. Straight girls think we’re sluts. Straight boys think all we want to do is have threesomes. Lesbians won’t touch us for political reasons. And gay men think we’re sweet, confused darlings. Fucking hell!”
“Wynter, calm down, what happened?” So I told her about John and the video.
“Nobody takes us seriously and to hear that come from him, god. Learn to accept it my ass. He just thought he could change me. It’s a part of me. A part of who I am. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”
“Wynter, honey, he can’t hear you.”
“I know. Fucking asshole.”
So other than that little blip on the screen, life continued and graduation approached with a vengeance. My photography advisor helped me get my portfolio out to quite a few magazines to try to get me a job.
I actually had two west coast magazines and one east coast magazine interested in me. I interviewed at the east coast magazine in February, but the interview went badly. The interviewer didn’t like my style and I didn’t like him.
“You do realize what kind of pictures we take here?”
“I’m aware.” It’s not like you don’t know what you’re getting into when Penthouse calls you for an interview.
“So, you don’t have a problem with that?”
“No, I’m cool with it.”
“Good. I was hoping you weren’t one of those feminist bitches who think we exploit women around here. Please, women exploit themselves all the time but when we pay them it’s such a huge deal. All women are basically prostitutes at some point or another, anyway.”
I’m sure not everyone at the magazine was like that, but then again that could have just been the tip of the iceberg. I set up the other two interviews for Spring Break and Playboy actually sent me a plane ticket and got me a hotel room. They sent me an itinerary and I found some time to arrange an interview with Rolling Stone. To be honest Playboy was looking more and more appealing, even though I would have loved a job with Rolling Stone.
Ally went with me to the airport and gave me a long kiss goodbye. It didn’t occur to me until I got on the plane that Ally hadn’t said anything about his post graduation plans. It was pretty obvious that I was moving to the west coast, but I didn’t even know where he called home. Were we going to have to split up? How did that make me feel? I decided just to stop thinking about it and talk to him when I got home. I wanted to enjoy my time in LA.
I got off the plane and saw a woman standing to the side holding a sign that said my name. I walked over to her.
“I’m Wynter.”
“Hi, Wynter, I’m Janet Malley.” She stuck her hand out. I took it and she gave my hand a good firm shake. “How was your flight?”
“Fine.”
“Good. Today we have you scheduled to do a tour of our place and an interview. Since I’m the interviewer, we’ll probably do most of it while we’re walking. Don’t worry though, we’re going to take you to the hotel first.” She smiled as climbed into the back of a limo. I was a little shocked to say the least.
“Wow!”
“I know. Look, Wynter, I’m going to be completely honest with you here. We are very interested in adding you to our staff. We also know that you’ve had offers from Penthouse and Rolling Stone.”
“Oh, Penthouse is already out.”
“I take it you already had the interview.”
“Oh yeah.”
“Sexist pig, isn’t he?”
“Oh yeah.”
“That’s why they don’t have any female photographers on staff.”
“I’m not surprised.”
They dropped me off at the hotel and I went up to my room. I changed quickly into an outfit that was about as professional as Janet’s. I wasn’t sure what their offices were like, but I figured that I was better safe than sorry.
About an hour later Janet came back to get me. She gave me a tour of their offices and their studios. The place was fabulous and the interview was going very well in my opinion. We ended the tour in her office.
“Wynter, your style is completely different from anything we have ever seen. We really like your stuff and we’d like to offer you a position.” She ran down all the details of it and looked at me for conformation.
“Oh wow, that sounds really nice, but I have to be honest with you. I have an interview with Rolling Stone tomorrow morning and I don’t want to make any decisions before I have seen all the prospects. But just so you know, Rolling Stone would have to offer me a hell of a lot of money to get me away from you guys.”
“That’s good to hear and perfectly understandable. So I guess I have to wait until tomorrow to hear from you and I really hope I do. The rest of your itinerary depends on your answer, but of course you will have a ticket home regardless. I’m glad I got to meet you.” She stood and put her hand out for me to shake.
“Thank you and I hope I will be seeing a lot more of you.” I left the building and found the limo waiting for me. It was already evening and I was suddenly very tired. I told the driver to take me to my hotel. Once back I ordered room service and sat down on my bed. I had sent copies of my portfolio to all the magazines, but the original was with my bags across the room.
I jumped up off the bed and grabbed my black, zippered portfolio. I was about to open it when room service knocked. I brought my dinner in and changed into more comfortable clothes. I sat down at the table by the window with my food and my portfolio. I dug in to my pasta as I leafed through the first few photos. There were some landscape shots of Manhattan and some random pictures from central park. I also had a group of photos I took while on tour with John last summer. I stopped when I came to a picture I had taken of John. He was sitting on a swing at some park we had stopped at, now I couldn’t even tell you what state we had been in. He was looking down to the left of me, but it was the look on his face that was amazing. It was a mix of loss and happiness, it was like he was reliving some long forgotten childhood memory. The fact that the picture was in black and white only made it more poignant.
God, I miss him sometimes. I can’t help but wonder if he’s in LA right now. What if I ran into him at Rolling Stone? Do I even know how that would make me feel? I can’t help but think of what it would be like to touch him again, to be with him again. His touch used to set my skin on fire. I wonder if it still would. Of course, I shouldn’t even be thinking this, because I’m with Ally now. I put the picture away and finished my dinner. I crawled into bed a little while later and fell right to sleep.
I dreamt of John that night. We were in some sort of room, and it was really hazy beyond where we sat. There were to flame red chairs and a matching couch. I sat in one of the chairs that was facing a TV that was turned on. Someone, who I couldn’t really see, sat in the chair next to me and John sat on the couch watching me. Suddenly the person next to me disappeared and John and I were laying on the floor. He leaned over and kissed me softly. I woke up and the only thing I could think was the person who disappeared was Ally. I laid back down and tried to forget the whole thing.
The next morning I caught a taxi to Rolling Stone’s offices. The interview went well and she even offered me a job. Sadly, the pay and the benefits weren’t anything compared to what Playboy offered me.
“I’m sorry, but I got a better offer than that waiting for me.”
“I wish I could offer you more because your portfolio is top quality, but I can’t.”
“I really would have liked to work here.”
“I might be able to offer you some freelance work now and again, if you were interested. The pay is really good.”
“More than interested. I’ll call you in six weeks, when I’m in LA permanently and give you my new number.”
“That’d be great. I do have a question for you, though.”
“What’s that?”
“How in the world did you get John Rzeznik to pose for you?”
“I know him.”
“Know him, huh? That’s pretty vague.”
“Let’s just say we’re old friends.”
“I’d like to be ‘old friends’ with that man.” I laughed and stood to leave. I liked the woman. She was about 50 and had jet black hair. She was very heavy and short, and she wore bright red lipstick. Her name was Ella Fife and I really hoped she meant what she said about the freelance work.
I went back to the hotel and called Janet at Playboy. I told her the good news and told her I would be at dinner this evening. The rest of my itinerary mainly consisted of lunches, introductions and training. In the few free minutes I had, I got a real-estate agent to show me around some apartments. I really liked what I saw and was very anxious to graduate all of the sudden.
I flew back to New York on the last day of Spring Break. Ally met me at the airport. In the taxi on the way to back to the loft, I finally decided to talk to him.
“Baby, I took the job with Playboy.”
“That’s cool.”
“Well, it is and it isn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“We’ve been avoiding it for months now, but we have to talk about it sometime. You’re not going to LA with me,” I stated simply.
“Why do we have to talk about this now?”
“Because we need to, Ally. I can’t live ignoring this for the next six weeks. It’s too hard.”
“No, Wynter, no I’m not going to fucking LA! Does that make you feel better?” he shouted.
“No, it doesn’t make me feel better. It’s not like I wanted this, Ally. I don’t want us to separate at all, but I need this job.”
“And, I need to stay on at the gallery, Wyn.” I sat back against the seat. I could feel the sting of tears in my eyes and a lump building in my throat. “I didn’t want this either, Wyn, and I’m sorry this has to happen. I do love you, Wynter, I hope you know that.”
“I do. I love you too, Duncan.”
“You never call me that.”
“I just... Look, baby, this just sucks really bad.”
“I know.” We got out of the cab and paid the driver. We went up to the loft and put my bags in our room. I sat down on the bed and just started crying. Our room, our room. How bad is it going to hurt to have my own room again? Ally sat down and put his arm around me.
“We still have the next six weeks.”
“I just wish it didn’t have to turn out this way,” I said between sobs.
“Me too.” We just sat there on the for an hour, crying together.
For the next five weeks life went back to the way it was before I went to LA. The very last week before graduation I spent packing and crying. Every time I looked at Tarin or Erin or Ally, especially Ally, I felt like bursting into tears. Graduation came and went quicker than I could have imagined.
Suddenly it was my last day in New York, and all of my stuff had been shipped to California already. Tarin, Erin, and Ally were all staying in New York, so they drove me to the airport. The goodbyes were long and tearful, but I finally got on the plane. Watching New York melt into the distance after take off became one of the most cleansing experiences of my life. The sadness of the last week was gone and I was really excited about starting a new life.