[OCTOBER 5, 1990 – Friday, 3:15 pm]
Peter
The sound of chairs scraping the floor roused me from my thoughts as all around me students started gathering their books and bags and heading out the door.
Had class ended already?
What’s happening to me? I’m jittery and anxious and excited and terrified and empty inside and yet at the same time too full.
I’d left the dining hall, glanced back at Derek where he still stood by the table, waved, and walked out the door like I always did. Then my feet had followed the covered path out to the Commons and through the Student Center and on to Markham Hall where Econ 3 met Fridays at 1:45 pm. Just like always.
I’d entered the room in a daze, taken my usual seat and opened my notebook. Did I notice Sherri or Malcolm or Tim taking their seats around me? I hadn’t noticed the usual pre-class banter of the other dozen or so senior Econ students. I hadn’t even noticed when Professor Andrews came in and dropped his books and papers on the desk at the front of the room. I’d just sat there like a butterfly inside a cocoon, waiting, lost in my thoughts.
No, everything around me had been a blur since I left the dining hall, my body running on autopilot while my mind was far away. My thoughts had been flying from one scene to the next: looking across the Quad and meeting the dark, sparkling eyes of a stranger, looking up unexpectedly into those same eyes in the dining hall, the first introduction, Derek’s soft brown-skinned hand offering the leaf, a small bit of shy conversation, and me feeling myself caught like a fly in a spider’s web.
Those dark, sparkling, beautiful eyes had captured me. Had looked deep into me and set loose something in me that I’d been pushing down my whole life.
I shook my head to get my mind back in gear. I needed advice, and I only knew one person who could give it to me.
“Hey Sherri, hang on a bit,” I called to the short, full-figured brunette who was just getting up from her seat at the end of the row.
She paused as she stuffed papers in her backpack. “What’s up, Peter?”
I moved closer, set my pack on the floor at my feet. “Sherri, you’re my best friend. We’ve known each other for a while now, since Freshman year,” I said slowly.
Sheri nodded in agreement, watching me closely, “Yeah, so?”
“It’s just that I need some advice and I’m not sure how to ask…”
Sherri tilted her head to one side and the corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. “Peter, it’s OK. You can ask me anything; you know that.”
“I know, it’s just…” I stumbled over the words. What exactly did I want to ask?
“It’s OK,” she repeated. “You know I’m gay, and I know you are, too. I’d be honored if you decided to come out to me.”
I stared. “How did you know? I’ve never told anyone.”
“I suspected for a long time—you never had a date and I’ve never seen you hit on anyone.” Sherri shrugged. “But after watching the way you reacted to that guy at lunch, well it pretty much confirmed my suspicions.”
My face got hot, and I had to look away. “It’s just that it’s such a terrible sin, you know? I’ve been praying for God to change me, but nothing happens.” I looked back at Sherri, met her eyes. “I’ve spent so much time and energy fighting it, pushing it down. I’m tired,” I paused, took a breath. “And I’m thinking maybe I don’t want to fight anymore.”
Sherri nodded sympathetically. “There’s no class coming in here for a while; maybe we should sit down,” She took a seat and pulled out the chair next to her for me. I sank into it heavily.
“I just don’t know what to do, Sher,” I rubbed my face with my hands. “Do I go for it, see if he wants to date me, come out to everyone? And if I do, what about everything else? How can I just abandon my faith?”
“That’s a lot of questions, for sure, Peter, but I’ve got one for you: how do you know God hates us, hates gay people?”
I stared at her. “What do you mean? Everyone knows it’s a sin—the Bible’s pretty clear on that.”
“Is it? Or is it possible that those ancient words have been misinterpreted for centuries?” She took my hand, squeezed it tightly. “Just because that’s what your parents said, what their church preached, doesn’t mean it’s the truth. Why are you so sure that they’re right about God? What does your heart and gut tell you?”
I didn’t know what to say. Could Sherri be right? She’d never seemed ashamed at being gay.
“What do you think I should do?” I asked softly.
Sherri smiled. “I think you’ve got a lot of thinking to do,” she replied. She raised her eyebrows and winked, “But if you do decide to go for it, remember there’s the LBGA dinner dance tomorrow night in the dining hall. You could bring him, see how things go. I’ll leave two tickets at the door for you.”
I had to laugh. No matter how serious the situation, Sherri always managed to lighten the mood. We gathered our packs and moved to the door. I turned left while Sherri went to the right.
“Dinner in the dining hall as usual?” Sherri asked as she turned away.
I nodded, already lost in my thoughts.
“OK, see you later.”
We waved goodbye and I headed back to my apartment, more confused than I’d been before.
The View from Mt. Hope 