The Death of Friends Read Online Free PDF Page A

places.”
    A faint, indulgent smile creased his lips. “You do those things, Henry. I think you can. But it’s not for me.”
    “Why?”
    “Listen, I’ll tell you, but don’t get mad, okay?”
    “I’m listening.”
    “This,” he said, squeezing my thigh, “this is about sex. I’m not knocking sex, it’s great, but that’s all it is, Henry. I can’t organize my life around it. It’s a kind of self-indulgence. You said you wouldn’t get mad.”
    “I did not.” I was mad, but I couldn’t stay mad because I’d had this same conversation with myself. “How can you marry a woman if you’re not being honest with her about who you are?”
    “It depends on what you mean by honest,” he said. “Should I tell her about the other girls I’ve had sex with? What would be the purpose of that? It’s the same principle with the guys I’ve been with.”
    “You’ve gone out with other women?”
    “Haven’t you dated women?”
    “No,” I said. “It seemed dishonest. The way I define it, anyway.”
    “I guess I don’t have your high standards,” he said coolly. “I was president of my fraternity at college and there was a lot of pressure to date. I did what I had to.”
    “That sounds like fun.”
    “Come off it,” he said, annoyed. “I went to a little college in the middle of Iowa. There was no way I was gonna come out.”
    “I had you pegged as an Ivy Leaguer.”
    “My family broke up when I was ten and it was just me and my mom. I was lucky to be able to afford any kind of college. I’m a scholarship student here, Henry, just like you.”
    It was my turn to bristle. “You assume I’m a scholarship student because I’m Mexican?”
    “No,” he said, “because you told me so last night.” He smiled. “You said it as if you were proving a point to me.”
    “I thought you were another rich preppie here on his daddy’s money.”
    His smile faded. “I haven’t seen my dad in ten years.”
    “Does the woman you’re engaged to mean anything more to you than the ones you went out with in college?”
    “You’ve really got a mouth on you,” he said. “You’ll do well in court.”
    “Does she?” I persisted.
    “No,” he said. “I like her. I like her a lot.”
    “Her name’s Bay? Like the body of water?”
    “Asshole,” he said, but he laughed when he said it. “Yes, Bay, Bay Kimball,” he said. “She’s a senior at a Catholic girls’ school over in Marin, St. Clare’s. Her father’s Joe Kimball, the senior partner at the firm in L.A. where I clerked the last two summers. Awesome guy, Henry. I met Bay at a firm picnic. We both play tennis, so we played some and since we’re both at school up here, I’d meet her in the city sometimes.” He folded his hands behind his head. “I have to admit I kept in touch with her at first mainly because I really wanted an offer from the firm, and I figured it wouldn’t hurt if I was friends with Joe’s daughter. But after I got to know her, I liked her for herself and I could tell she really liked me. By the time I went back to the firm for my second summer, we were definitely dating.”
    “Someone who didn’t like you as much as I do might say you’re kind of an opportunist, Chris.”
    He moved away from me and said, “I know what you’re thinking. I marry the senior partner’s daughter and I can write my own ticket. You just have to trust that I’m not that much of an asshole. Look, Henry, try to understand. I knew I was homosexual when I was fourteen years old. When I was in high school, I used to bike to the library across town and look up everything I could find on the subject. All the books said I’d grow out of it. I waited and waited, but that didn’t happen. I didn’t want to be different, Henry. I still don’t.”
    “You think getting married will change you?”
    “God, I hope so,” he said, in a voice so full of hurt that it made me ashamed for a moment of who I was.
    “You think it’s wrong to be gay,