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That is when I lernd somtims kids have to tak care of ther parents.
    Jeremy put the paper down, impressed with this story. He would have to make sure to talk to Seth and tell him how proud he was Seth had been brave enough to tell such a hard story. He wiped a tear from his cheek, decided he’d had enough of work, and packed up his things to head out.
    The air carried a hint of spring warmth, made more appealing by the cloudless sky and gentle breeze. His school, New Horizons for Young Leaders, located on Second Avenue and Twenty-Fourth Street, was a small private school with only one class per grade. Ever since he graduated college and moved to New York, he had taught at the school, loving the work more than he had expected. Although he’d completed his master’s degree five years later at City College New York, he had never used his qualifications to move to the public sector of education. Working in a private school provided a certain level of autonomy and freedom which didn’t exist in the public schools.
    Heading down Second Avenue, Jeremy passed many of his favorite stores on the way to the East Village apartment he shared with his boyfriend, Andrew Jamieson.
    Jeremy loved the East Village because, in his opinion, it was the most eclectic neighborhood in New York. Every walk of life coexisted without difficulty. He and Andrew walked down the street hand in hand past yuppie couples with kids tugging at their arms or punk skateboarders with pink spiked hair practicing their moves. No one seemed to care how anyone else lived their lives, so long as they didn’t create any problems.
    He also loved the East Village because he could afford it. Jeremy had known that choosing to become a teacher, especially a teacher in a private school where the pay was meager, would limit what he could afford, but his current apartment was rent stabilized and he was able to pay and still have money left over for himself and Andrew.
    Andrew had become increasingly pushy about moving over the past two years; ever since he got his promotion at work. Along with the promotion and increased 16

    D.H. Starr

    Meant For Each Other
    earnings had come increased tension and arguments at home. Each time Andrew brought up moving, Jeremy had to swallow his anger to avoid blowing up at him. It wasn’t that he minded a difference of opinion, he had never backed down from arguments with Andrew, but this particular issue cut too close to Jeremy’s core. The fact Andrew couldn’t see how important it was to him to be self-reliant hurt. It sent the message that he wasn’t listening to what Jeremy was telling him. That had never been the case between them, at least it hadn’t until two years ago.
    The smell of potatoes frying in oil carried on the breeze, reminding him he hadn’t eaten since breakfast. He decided to stop at Pomme Frites to buy some fries to curb his appetite until Andrew got home. He got his favorite, potato wedges with a creamy garlic dipping sauce, and continued walking east down Sixth Street towards his apartment located between First Avenue and Avenue A.
    Continuing east, he passed several more stores, each bringing back memories of different experiences. He stopped at the The Record Mixer, a store which sold various albums with beats, vocals, instrumentals, and other random sounds which DJs used for mixing. Andrew had loved this store and Jeremy had indulged him on numerous occasions, by perusing the bins for a specific sound he needed. Back in the days when they had begun dating, when everything had been fresh and new, Andrew had mixed music all the time, his apartment cluttered with equipment and records. Jeremy loved every minute of it as they drank wine and Andrew shared stories of the college parties he had been invited to since he was the best mixer around.
    But that had been at the beginning of their relationship, back when they both made the same salary and still thought the most important thing was the love they