Owen and Enzo
Owen:
It's my third year of college and to save some money, I am sharing an off-campus house with five roommates, rather that living in the dorm. When Wyatt suggested this, I was skeptical. A house was a luxury I couldn't afford. Who wouldn't prefer a house with friends to the cramped and smelly dormitory? But Wyatt ran the numbers and broke it down for us. A three bedroom, furnished house's rent divided by six roommates would save us all a couple hundred dollars each, per semester. That included utilities. So, yeah. I jumped at the chance.
Wyatt and I are both on the Basketball team and finding four other teammates to go in with us was easy. Wyatt was a good salesman. He should probably be a real estate agent after graduation. I'd hire him. Anyway, the problem came when Ray dropped out on us last minute. He had some family thing come up over the summer and he won't be back at school at all this year. Wyatt's plan for us to save money was dependent on expenses being divided six ways. Reduce six to five, and it becomes a financially unfavorable situation, to the point where guys can't afford it. The dominoes would fall from there.
It was so late in the summer by this point that everyone else's situation was already established. Our other teammates had set plans of their own. It was a real problem. But then I had an idea. My friend Enzo is a commuter and he shouldn't be. He drives ninety minutes each way to save on room and board, but I could recruit him last minute if Wyatt could prepare a proposal just for him. So, that's what we did. Wyatt made a power point presentation illustrating to Enzo that if he quit his job in his hometown, took an on-campus job in the science lab and stopped spending so much on gas, he would break even financially and gain three hours of time every day.
Enzo is an improbable dude to be our sixth housemate. Wyatt, Aiden, Cooper, Ivan and I are all on the basketball team. We are five burly, athletes all over 6' 2" and 180 pounds. Enzo is not that. I don't know specifics, but I'd estimate that he is 5' 8", 130 pounds and can probably fit both of his feet into just one of any of our giant sneakers. And he doesn't know the other four guys at all. He and I met as freshmen in a finance and statistics class. Enzo's major is in science and mine is English, so neither of us were math geniuses. We weren't even through week one of classes when Enzo introduced himself and suggested that we study together a few times a week. By the time the semester was over, we both managed to pass the class and an unlikely odd couple sort of a friendship was born.
I liked hanging out with Enzo. He was different from my other friends in pretty much every way imaginable. And his car, his job and his commute made him seem so independent and cool. So adult. If we can convince him to move into our house, it would be awesome to spend more time with him. And he deserves to have the traditional college experience like the rest of us. He's already lost so much time in his first two years.
The other guys didn't care that Enzo wasn't on the team (or any kind of an athlete). Besides, I would be the one to room with him anyway and the financials were back in order. It was thanks to Enzo that we were back on track. Our sixth housemate could have been a billy goat if it paid its share of the expenses.
I told the other guys all about Enzo, including that he is gay. Enzo was clear about that from the beginning. He said he's been "out" since he was fifteen and he's not going to start hiding who he is at age twenty. He needed to know that his five prospective jock housemates all were aware of his sexuality from the beginning and that they were cool with it. They were. We unanimously voted that Enzo was in. And "out". He was out and he was in. He laughed at my lame joke.
But he still needed to be convinced. He said he didn't mind being the only non jock in the house and he was already used to being the only queer person wherever he was. It was still a leap for him. A life changing moment to quit his job and move away from home. But our man Wyatt had his laptop fired up and his power point presentation loaded and Enzo got a kick out of the whole thing. He found Wyatt's effort and enthusiasm endearing. Aside from the dollars and cents logic of the situation, it gave Enzo a sense of who these guys are. This was going to work out.
Enzo:
I wasn't so sure when Owen first approached me with this whole housemate proposal thing. Sure, I was sick to death of the long daily commute. Yes, Owen and I had become friends over the last two years and he promised me that with six guys and three bedrooms, he would be the one to share a room with me. I wouldn't be stuck with a stranger. It was still such a big, scary change. I insisted that he tell them all that I'm gay. That needed to be a nonissue from the start. I wasn't surprised that none of them had a problem with it, after all, Owen didn't when I told him the day we met. I didn't expect his friends would be any different, but still. It was only fair for them to know too.
It was when Owen brought me to meet Wyatt that I was finally convinced. His little power point presentation was adorable. He had put some serious time and energy into creating it. He won me over from the very first slide. If the other three guys were even half as nice as Owen and Wyatt, this would all work out just fine. And it wouldn't bother me at all that I was sharing one house with five hot jock dudes. I can compartmentalize. I need them to be my friends and roommates, not my secret crushes. No matter how gorgeous they all are.
But the brain thinks what the brain thinks. And my brain is gay. No rational thought will change that. The first time I bumped into Ivan in the hall as he came out of the bathroom wearing nothing but a low-cinched towel, I lost my breath for a minute and half of the blood in my body rushed to my crotch. Fortunately, Owen is the one I share a room with. Okay, fine. If I'm honest with myself, Owen is the cutest in a house of five extremely cute guys. But the thing is, I've known Owen for two years now. We are established friends. I don't even notice how cute he is anymore. Hardly. Much.
It's all irrelevant anyway. None of them fall anywhere near the queer umbrella. Not that they've said, at least. I was open about myself from the beginning. None of them ran away screaming, but also none of them came out and joined me in the big gay pool. Not that I expected them too. I have "come out" to dozens (maybe hundreds) of people in these last five years, but to this day, not one person has ever "come out" to me. Maybe now that I get to be here at school all the time, that will change. I sure hope so. Aside from being a virgin, I get lonely sometimes.
But Owen really has been a good friend. That first week freshman year, he seemed completely lost in that statistics class. I pretended to be just as lost as he was as a reason to introduce myself. I suggested that we could meet up and figure it out together. He took me up on my offer and we've been friends ever since. I'd already had it all figured out, but I acted like it was a collaboration. It really wasn't that he was gorgeous (which he was). I never dared to hope that he might be gay - I stopped hoping such hopes years ago - he just seemed like a nice person and I wanted to make a school friend. It worked out. And as a bonus, Owen didn't fail statistics.
Being his friend made me more social too. I started going to the basketball games and even a few on-campus parties. When Owen and I had no classes together second semester, we still made a point of having lunch together most every day and spend time studying after. He took the lead in maintaining our friendship beyond that first semester. I wasn't sure why. He had his team and lots of other friends. I was nothing special. But Owen kind of looks out for me and that makes me feel cared for and important.
Owen:
All of the guys took quickly to Enzo. I knew they would. He's just a sweet guy. And being so different from the jocks we usually hang with, it's cool. He is the one and only friend any of us has who shows up at all of our games. He's always there, rooting us on. And it's not just for show. He understands the game. We all get a kick out of hearing his post-game analysis in the kitchen afterwards. He gets into it and is passionate about heaping praise on each of us. He should be part of the coaching staff. The truth is that we are a mediocre team with a 500 record, but to hear Enzo talk about us, we're headed for the championship. He's just that guy.
On nights that we have practices, Enzo always cooks for us. He shouldn't go to the trouble. I told him so. He does it anyway. He makes these authentic Mexican dishes that are part of his heritage and while they are sometimes initially intimidating to the guys, once we try them, we just fall in love. He should consider dropping out and going to culinary school, but that would make me sad. The first time he cooked for us, he made pozole. It was so simple and so delicious. Every one of us guys has loved and devoured every one of his creations. I've tried telling him that he doesn't have to cook for us. That he owes us nothing. He assured me that he genuinely enjoys doing it, and I believe him. He's just that guy.
It was Enzo who introduced himself to me way back that first week. I saw through his little act of subterfuge. He was not lost in that statistics class. He had it all figured out from the beginning. But for me, the struggle was real. I was clueless and afraid I would fail the class. Enzo unofficially tutored me. He got me through it. But he did it in this subtle way so that I never felt ashamed. Even though I knew what he was doing, he still managed to be humble and to help me maintain my pride. And I really did learn. I learned way more from him than from the professor. Yeah. Enzo is that guy.
He told me that very first day we met that he is gay. I was so impressed with how confident and self-aware he was. He slipped it into our conversation in a way that was so seamless and natural that neither of us was uncomfortable. He was obviously an experienced professional at "coming out" and he put me as much at ease as he was. It was that blunt honesty that got him through high school. While he was the only "out" person in his entire class, he won over enough people that the few assholes in the school chose not to bother him. We are in college now so I expect that there are way fewer assholes than there are in high school, but you never know. I've taken to kind of looking out for Enzo whether he needs it or not. He doesn't know that I do that.
Enzo:
I have no choice but to live my life as a gay man because that's who I am. I will not change. Given that, I need to be able to take care of myself and I think I've done an okay job of that so far. I am not a physical threat to anyone. At 5' 8" and less pounds than I care to admit, my presence is not intimidating to most middle schoolers. But I am open, direct and confident and that seems to go a long way. Owen thinks I don't know that he's looking out for me, but I totally do. I should tell him not to, but I don't. He's just that guy. He's sweet and he's doing something nice for his friend. I don't want to hurt his feelings.
All of my housemates are actually good guys, but being a bunch of twenty year old boys, they sometimes do stupid things. Owen told me that a couple houses down from ours, there is a house of six stars of the baseball team. Our baseball team happens to be the regional champions, while our basketball team is middle of the road at best. For months now, there has been a lot of trash talking back and forth. Their guys flaunt their success (and their trophy) and make fun of our guys for "sucking". Our guys point out that college baseball is nothing but a playground for losers. The best baseball players are drafted out of high school and go straight to the minor leagues. The NFL and the NBA pull their talent from the college scene. Baseball does not. The best college baseball players are nothing more than the best losers.
This has been going on back and forth for a long time. It's all been pretty harmless. Until now. Two days ago, led by Cooper, he, Ivan and Aiden all snuck into the baseball team's house at night and stole their trophy. Owen and Wyatt were smart enough to not only discourage it, but to stay out of it. When they found out, they both walked the trophy over to the baseball house and returned it, apologizing for their idiot teammates' behavior.
