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~WINTER~

Johnny Depp is my absolute favorite actor. I love him not only because he's gorgeous, but because, unlike most actors with his looks, he can actually act. After a fantastic night with Arden, going to see The Tourist was just the icing on the cake. The movie's just barely started, and I'm already absorbed to the point where I hardly even notice the people around me.

Some twenty minutes later, Arden gets up to go to the bathroom; my attention wavers momentarily when he makes his way past me. His tail brushes me slightly, sending a familiar shiver up my spine; I follow him with my eyes for a few more seconds before getting back to the movie.

At one point in the film, a new character gets introduced - a very attractive male otter. I turn to face Arden, but find his seat empty. Worry creeps in with the cold breeze from the air con. I rummage around in my coat pocket until I find my phone. The display reads 12:30; Arden's been gone for at least fifteen minutes. Worry for my otter easily wins out over Johnny; I hop out of my seat and walk quickly out of the auditorium.

The bathroom that all the signs seem to point to turns out to be out of order; I knock on the door just to make sure and continue onward. With each second that passes, the worry grows stronger. In my head, I'm imagining all the worst possible things that could have happened to him; most of those things are completely irrational, but they still scare me.

On the second floor, I bump into Andy. He acknowledges me with a curt nod, and I can hardly keep from acknowledging him with a fist to the stomach. It sickens me to the core to know that someone's capable of attacking an innocent person solely because of their sexuality; the sickening feeling is only amplified by the fact that I used to be good friends with such people. These thoughts invariably lead me to the possibility that Andy might have hurt Arden. I am about two seconds away from pouncing on him and beating the living shit out of his conniving carcass when a mouse passes by us, surveying us critically before continuing on. This serves to remind me that I'm in a public place, and beating up Andy would be more trouble than it's worth; but only a little more. As soon as he's out of sight, I break into a run.

The bathroom door isn't locked, but I'm afraid of what I will find behind it.

"Arden!"

"Be right out!" The answer melts some of my tension instantly, but the shakiness in his voice quickly replaces it with more worry. Not waiting for him to emerge, I push open the door and hurry inside.

Arden's standing in the middle of the room, looking like he'd just seen a ghost. His eyes are wide, and he's shaking just enough for me to notice. I survey him quickly for any signs of damage, but he seems perfectly alright; physically, anyway.

"Are you okay, hon?" I take one of his paws in mine and lead him out of the bathroom. "You've been gone for so long. I went out to look for you."

There is a slight pause before he speaks. I know he thinks I didn't notice; he thinks that a lot, I can tell... but I do notice. "I'm... I'm fine. Just had a bit of indigestion, I guess."

My first instinct is to press further, but somehow I know it wouldn't be a good idea. In his current mood, he would only get defensive and clam up more. "Okay."

We walk back to the auditorium and catch the rest of the movie, but seeing my otter in such a state of shock, drains all my previous interest in the film. I do my best to focus on the screen and not look at him; he'll talk to me when he's ready. I keep repeating that mantra over and over in my head until the movie ends.

My normal tradition of waiting for the credits to end (there's usually a cool bonus scene in movies like this) is all but forgotten. I get up with the rest of the audience and make it into the aisle. Only then, I notice that Arden is still in his seat. I inch my way slowly against the outgoing current of people until I'm within arm's reach of him.

"Arden." I tap him gently on the shoulder.

He awakens from his daze, looks around and gets up.

As we make our way out of the theatre, I turn around constantly to make sure he hasn't gotten swallowed up by the crowd. Normally, he would comment on my fussiness, but this time he doesn't say a word.

Once in the parking lot, he strays ahead and starts heading for the wrong car.

"Want me to drive?" It's less of a question and more of an attempt to snap him back into reality. It works... to an extent, anyway.

"No, no it's okay," he mumbles, finally finding the right car and unlocking the doors.

We get in, and I can't help but look at him. I want, more than anything, to see inside his mind; to take his problems and share them between us; to face every fear, every doubt together... but I am not a mind reader, and until he decides to talk to me, there's nothing I can do. I am reminded, of course, of the fact that I've kept quite a number of my own problems from him; but the trouble with my problems is that there's nothing any of us can do about them.

"I'm fine, really." Now, it's my turn to snap back to reality. I realize that I've not only been looking at him, but outright staring. His grin couldn't be more forced; he knows I know this. His eyes are sad and have a faraway look in them.

He starts the car.

There really is nothing more to say at this point. I sigh and manage a nod.

He tries to start the car again; the screeching noise startles him and seems to give him enough concentration to drive.

On the way home, I can't resist glancing at him. He glances back, but doesn't say anything. I'm pretty sure he expects me to talk, but I decide to stay silent as well. Every conversation-starter that comes to mind seems like it would invariably lead to a fight.

We manage to get to my house in one piece (Arden runs several stop signs, but it isn't anything lethal). He puts the car into park and heaves a sigh; I perk up momentarily, thinking he's finally ready to talk, but he just stares straight ahead for a few moments and climbs out.

It almost looks like he's wandering through a thick fog... treading softly, not sure of where he's headed. I want so badly to help him find his way. I catch up with him and rest my arm gently around his shoulders. "We should go see that movie again. You missed all the best parts." I don't expect much of a response, but there's no harm in trying.

Finally, I get a smile, an honest to God smile. "It's a date, then."

As the front door slams shut, I half-expect him to jump into my arms or pull some other romantic move; instead, he wanders into the kitchen and plops down on one of the chairs. He gives me another smile as I walk into the kitchen; it's not as sincere at the one before, but better than nothing.

My stomach grumbles, distracting me from my otter; I realize that it's been quite a while since I'd eaten, so I pull out several boxes of Supremeo pizza and shove them into the microwave. The smell of food seems to breathe a bit of life into my otter; his ears perk up, and I can see him eying the slowly-rotating pizza hungrily.

I hardly have time to pull the steaming pizza out of the microwave before he attacks it.

"Hungry much?" I blow the steam off my slice and take a cautious bite.

"Haven't eaten since lunch," is all he manages to say before diving into the pizza again.

Maybe he was just hungry. I have a cousin who does the same thing; any time he has to go more than one or two hours without food, he turns into a zombie. It would be easy to just put everything off to that one theory and forget; unfortunately, my brain just won't let me. My thoughts get sidetracked again from watching him eat.

"Well, you should've said something; we could have stopped somewhere before the movies." I can't help but chuckle at the comical sight of my otter gorging himself on microwave pizza.

He mumbles something, but it comes out as a bunch of incoherent vowels. He clears his muzzle and tries again. "Didn't have time."

We don't talk much after this. He's too busy eating, and I really don't have much to say.

Finally, the last slice of pizza disappears into that adorable muzzle. He chews it over and speaks once his muzzle is free. "That was... amazing! I'm pretty much stocking my freezer with these."

"Yes, because all you have to eat at home is delicious, home-cooked awesomeness, you poor thing!" I take his plate and mine and put them both in the sink. I have half a mind to wash them, but decide to put that off 'til tomorrow.

"Yeah, but sometimes I just kinda crave junk food, you know?" He rocks back in the chair, a lot more relaxed than I've seen him since our trip to the movies... or maybe he's just sleepy.

"Well, I'll be more than happy to share mine with you." I wait for him to get up and then embrace him. It isn't just my junk food I want to share with him... it's my life. He doesn't know that; or maybe he does, I don't know. I hold him, wishing it was always this easy to express how I feel. I thought it was, but Chris has shown me otherwise. It's like two conflicting artists, fighting over my canvas; one, Arden, paints a beautiful picture, where everyone accepts me and loves me. The other one, Chris, paints over it with all the shadows that the otter seems to leave out. He's made many valid points; coach is, most definitely, a homophobe. Not only that, but he knows quite a few coaches on the D-1 level at college. If he starts to hate me, it's a pretty safe bet that I won't get to play in college; and if I don't play in college, there's no way I'll ever play professionally. He's also made a good point about the other guys on the team; they all respect me because they think I'm this go-getter alpha male who bangs all the girls in the class... what would happen if they found out I was gay? My captaincy hinges on respect; if I lose it, I might as well quit the team.

Only one thing keeps me peeking out of the door of my cozy closet, and I'm holding him in my arms. Before Arden came into my life, I would look at guys guiltlessly, go home and paw off. I was completely satisfied being where I was; sure, I never got the physical contact, but it really didn't faze me. When I first met Arden, it was about the same - a sexy otter jogging on the track, his gorgeous body outlined by a very tight shirt; just something for me to paw off to later to... and yet... it wasn't. At first, it was guilt; I felt like an ass for hitting him with that soccer ball and just wanted to clear things up... but the warmth in my chest when he spoke, when I looked into those beautiful green eyes... I just couldn't get enough of it. Every logical part of my brain told me to back out, to leave him be and return to the soccer field and my former life. I didn't. I stuck with him, and the longer I remained by his side, the more I wanted to be there. My logical mind scolded me ceaselessly; the odds of him being gay and interested in me were astronomical. Why was I even trying? What would people say when they found out? To my surprise, I didn't care. It wasn't until I was inches away from his muzzle, in his family's swimming pool, that it hit me; this is wrong. I'm taking advantage of this guy, when all he wants is a friendship. So, I back out. Logic says that I should be thankful for it, for quitting while I was ahead and not looking back... but I'm not. I begin to wish for nothing more than to be in his arms, to kiss that sweet muzzle. I don't want to paw off to him, I want to be with him. I got my wish; this gorgeous creature is in my arms right now... but fate won't let me win that easily. The afterglow of my triumph fades, and all the old fears obscured by this beautiful light come into focus again. I want them to leave, to go away, but they don't listen. My logic, previously a floating figment of my brain is now personified by my best friend. Chris never lets me forget my career plans, my goals, my aspirations. How can I choose between what I want to spend the rest of my life doing, and the person I want to spend the rest of my life with?

I drift back to reality slowly, he's still in my arms and all is okay.

We head downstairs, undress, and I promptly fall asleep.

I wake up several minutes before my alarm is due to ring; I guess it's the whole "biological clock" thing. Arden is still asleep; I lay quietly on the bed, watching him through slitted eyes. He's so beautiful, even when he's asleep.

The alarm goes off, he shudders slightly and taps his paw around the bedside table.

"I used to keep the alarm there." I continue to watch him, chuckling softly at his comical efforts. "But I would just push snooze and fall asleep for a few more hours... needless to say, I overslept quite a bit. So," I force myself out of bed and walk over to the dresser, "now I keep it in here." I slide open the underwear drawer and find my alarm clock. The ringing only gets louder, so I power it off as quickly as I can.

He sits up slightly and stifles a huge yawn. "That's actually a pretty good idea."

It takes him a little longer to wake up fully; once he is, we head over to the bathroom. My first instinct is to take a shower with him. I've always wanted to do that, but never got the chance. Logic, as usual, comes in to ruin things. I watch him rinse off quickly, grumbling something about forgetting to bring shampoo. "Hey, at least you get to shower in the mornings. If I wanted to shower, I would have to get up at least three hours earlier than I usually do." Come to think about it, that wouldn't have been a bad tradeoff, so long as I got to shower with him.

After a quick breakfast of waffles and syrup, we head to school. Somewhere around halfway there, we run into Sam; he overslept and is more than happy to see us and accept Arden's offer for a ride.

Arden parked right next to the dumpster and wants to find a better space so his car doesn't reek of rotting food by the end of the day. I leave them in the parking lot and head inside.

My first class flies by before I can even get into it; I don't really mind. The bell rings, and I file out with the rest of the students.

As I approach the history classroom, I hear a familiar voice.

"I know; just don't get into a fight."

"Fight?" I stand just behind Arden. For a second, I can smell fear; before I can figure out where the scent is coming from, it's gone.

Arden turns around to face me. "Florin was out sick today and gave us ten pages worth of homework."

I can't help feeling like it's somehow connected to yesterday's behavior, but I take him at his word. "Yeah, that wouldn't be smart."

Fresto starts class, and any chance at a further conversation is gone. Just like the last class, it seems to fly by. I catch Sam glancing at me quite a bit and begin to think that maybe he knows more than I do about whatever's bothering Arden. When the bell rings, I take a few minutes to write down the homework, hoping that my otter would wait for me; but by the time I'm done, he and Sam are both gone.

Just as I'm walking to my next class, I get a text from Chris. 'We've got a sub, don't bother coming.'

I text back 'thanks' and go to the library instead.

I've got a huge project in physics and don't waste any time with it. By the time I'm done, I've already missed lunch and I'm late for English.

Piling all my textbooks hastily into my backpack, I run out of the library and make it to class just before the bell. Eggurd wouldn't have minded, but hers is a class I actually hate being late to. She assigns us a writing project and leaves us to work. It's only halfway through my paper that I realize something's missing; Arden. Just as I start to worry, he walks in to abate my fears somewhat.

"Where have you been?" I don't really expect an answer by this point, but it's worth a shot.

He smiles innocently "I had a few errands to run; nothing special."

'Of course'; I can hardly keep from saying that. Instead, I nod and go back to my work.

The bell rings just as I'm finishing up. He's still writing; I want to wait, but I've got practice.

"I'll see you tomorrow!" I wave to him and head out.

***

Soccer is what I do best. I hate bragging, but I've had very little competition on the field, and D-1 Schools like Williard are spamming my inbox with offers so fast that lately my junk filter has just been deleting them; but it's more than that. Soccer is something that relaxes me. Granted, it's a grueling game, physically, but when my mind and body are completely immersed in the experience, I get a temporary reprieve from the outside world; sort of like meditation.

Our home game is coming up, so everyone is starting to pick up the pace. Even guys like Andy, who just never seem to give a crap, are suddenly trying. We play a couple scrimmages, and I run them just as hard as I usually do; this time, they manage to keep up.

Coach doesn't seem satisfied. "You guys will never be ready for the game with the snail's pace you're setting. Running drills for everyone after practice."

Everyone moans collectively before he continues. "And don't think I won't assign people to make sure you do them."

I don't really have anything else to do after practice, so I don't mind as much as everyone else seems to. I pat a couple of the guys on the back and head over to the bleachers to get some water.

"Hey, Mark." Chris catches up with me. "Can we talk?"

I was going to start the drills right away, but the tone of his voice and the look in his eyes screams urgency.

"Yeah, what's up?"

He follows me to the bleachers; just as he's about to speak, my phone goes off. I don't even have to check caller ID to know who it is.

"Hello?"

"Mark, can we meet after my swim practice? I just wanted to-- tell you something."

"Sure."

Wow, when'd I become this popular? First nobody wanted to talk to me, now everyone's vying for my time.

"I'll be at the track. Coach assigned us running drills, and I didn't have time after practice." I still have to talk to Chris, after all... and who knows how long that'll take.

Arden seems satisfied. "Okay."

After he hangs up, I turn my attention back to Chris. "What's up?"

He hesitates for a few seconds, sighs and finally speaks. "Look, Mark, I didn't want to have to say anything... but-" With his shifty eyes and his tail between his legs, I put him down as a case of cold paws. Contrary to my expectations, he continues. "I just-- I didn't think it would be fair to keep this from you."

"What?" Chris never had a problem letting me know things; whatever it is, it's gotta be big.

"Arden confronted me after lunch today." He looks me straight in the eyes. "He blamed me for keeping you closeted."

For what it's worth, that part was true, but Chris only did it because he cared. He never said that I shouldn't come out because it's not right or unnatural; he always provided logic and facts to back up his opinion. I've come to rely on him for that.

Chris sees that I'm not interrupting and continues.

"I told him how hard it is for you; how coming out would jeopardize your soccer career, how it would screw up our winning season, how colleges wouldn't be interested in a reject athlete... but he didn't listen." His voice grows shaky. I don't think I've ever seen him cry before. "He said that he will do whatever it takes to make you come out. He said you would see, once you do, that it's not as bad as people say."

Arden's given me the same spiel before... although without the 'whatever it takes' part. "He'd never say that!" I find myself defending Arden without even knowing what to believe.

"I'm sorry." His voice gets even shakier than before as fresh tears form in his eyes. "I just wanted to tell you this. Mark, you're my best friend. You've been my best friend for as long as I can remember. I don't want to see you hurt."

Before I can respond, he sulks his head and walks away.

I don't want to believe him. My Arden would never lie to get me to come out. Would he? He's always been the forward-thinking one; he came out to his parents before I did, to his best friend before I did; now he's come out to the whole school. How badly does he want me to catch up? Maybe the problem isn't him... it's me. He is everything I've ever wanted, but am I the same to him? Are there some things I simply cannot give him? Am I holding him back?

My paws begin to shake at the thought. I feel more nervous than I felt right before our first kiss. I'm holding him back. I think back to our visit to Coaster Island; that was the happiest I've ever seen him. For those brief moments, we were completely open; we felt so free. I didn't mind going back to the way things are, simply because I saw no alternative; I still see none... but what about him? The sudden loss of freedom must have felt like suffocation. I remember him trying to put his paw around me at the movies; the look he gave me was more fraught with pain than I thought it was at the time. That was when he realized how things will have to be; kissing in the shadows, pawjobs behind closed doors. God knows, I'm trying; but how long will it be before I can give him the life he dreams of; the life he deserves?

The worst part of it all is that he loves me. He loves me so much that he would never even think of being with anyone else. He will sit next to me in my closet and let a life of freedom pass him by. He will watch Danny and Sam walking down the street holding paws, kissing, sharing all the affection that he will never get from me in public.

I see now, more than ever, that I have to change; I have to give him the life he deserves. We will make other gay couples jealous!

With that resolve in mind, I head off to the track.

Most of the guys are gone by the time I get there and coach is already packing up his stuff. "I don't think I have to watch you too close, Heeley." He smiles. "Just finish up and get outta here." He gives me one more nod and walks off.

I do a couple stretches and start the drills.

Just like with soccer, I focus solely on the work ahead of me... if only so I don't have to think about Arden. I get so into it that I completely forget our impending talk, as well as not notice his arrival.

I finally see him just as I'm rounding the track on my last lap.

I jog over. "How was practice."

"I got promoted to team captain." There's a definite mismatch in wording and emotion. With that look on his muzzle, I would have expected him to say something like 'I got kicked off the team.'

"That's amazing!" I hug him, hoping that he's just tired from practice. "So, what did you want to tell me?" We share this embrace about as long as we usually do, but this time, he parts from me even more reluctantly than before. He takes a step back before speaking. "Mark, I know who was behind the attack on Danny."

'Whatever it takes'.

"It was Andy and his friends. We already knew that."

"It was Chris. Chris was the one who set the whole thing up."

'Whatever it takes.'

"Oh, my God." My heart starts to beat faster. The night grows icy-cold. "He was right."

"Who?" The question rings hollow. I can see in his eyes that he already knows the answer.

"Chris. He said that you would try something like this." I am still in a complete state of disbelief. How can Chris be right? Is Arden really this desperate to get me to come out?

"And you believed him?!" He's yelling now, getting defensive. He usually tries to reason calmly, why would he be yelling? Unless Chris really was right.

"I didn't. But now I see he was right." The words gather meaning as I say them. I guess I really can't give him what he wants. All this time, he assured me that he would wait as long as it takes; I guess he got tired of waiting. "He said he came to talk to you about how tough my position was. How coming out would lead to me getting kicked off the team and not being able to play in college. He said you threw a tantrum and told him that you would do whatever it takes to get me to come out." I feel like a total idiot for not trusting Chris. "I defended you."

"Mark, I-"

I don't wait for him to finish. "I know you hate that I'm so closeted, but I'll come out eventually. It's just really tough."

"Tough?" He puts his paws on my shoulders as I do my best to steady them. "Mark, you've been lied to. Chris made it all up; the coach isn't a homophobe, and he certainly has no influence on you playing in college. How long is it going to take before you realize that things aren't as bad as they seem?"

It's the same question I pondered less than an hour ago. Back then, it was hypothetical; now, Arden really expects an answer. "Months? Years?" I'm yelling now too; I did my best to stay calm. The more we talk, the more I realize just how unfit for him I really am. He wants an open relationship, a house in San Francisco; he wants to march in parades, to be proud of his lifestyle... and I'm holding him back. "I don't know, Arden! When you came out, it was all sunshine and roses. Me; I lost my mother, almost lost my father and now, I might lose my chance at a career!"

"But you can't lie to yourself forever! Aren't you tired of constantly sneaking around? Of always hiding your feelings? I know I am!"

Those last four words... the words I was hiding from. The knowledge that he'd always stick by me was comforting at first, but the comfort slowly turned to guilt; he can do better. Those four words showed me that I was right... I never wanted to be more wrong.

I want now, more than ever, to keep him by my side, to take my time coming out and to do it with his support. There is only one problem... I love him. I want nothing more than to see him happy... whatever it takes.

'Arden, I know you can't hear me, but I don't need you to. I love you... I love you so much that I will set you free.'

"Well, if you're so tired, maybe you should find yourself someone else!"

My vision blurs. I want so badly to walk away. I want to make him hate me... hate me enough to not think back to me when he's holding hands with his new boyfriend... when they kiss.

I hardly notice him running away. My chest tightens and my breathing grows heavy. I feel weak; whatever strength I had left seeps out of my body. The overwhelming sadness won't even let me cry out. I lift up my left paw, just to notice that I don't feel it anymore. Colors start to dance in front of me as the ground comes rushing in to meet my face... everything goes black.