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It was a world of its own. Prestigious. Canada’s equivalent of Oxford, or Columbia in Manhattan. I was homesick and anxious for weeks, just trying to fit into the crush of student life. Although it was never too far from my mind, the last thing I tried to pursue was my sexual interest in men. It took about a month to really settle in, classes became a routine, and I learned that the best time on campus was Saturday nights at the Student Union Pub. Every week it was hosted by the university’s active Gay-Lesbian-and-Bi Student Collective. Always the best entertainment, best crowds and cheap beer. I’d never been in a bar and it scared me a little, but on the weekend before Halloween that year, I decided to check it out. All the advance billing was right. Imagine a rock-and-roll venue with about 600 university students swilling beer. Mind-blowing for an otherwise innocent kid like me. I stood for a while by the bar, sipping a beer, when a guy came by and struck up a conversation. He was. With no lights in the cabin, and now only the flashes of lightning to illuminate the page, the effort was too much. Bored, she studied the profile of the man opposite as he half-dozed in the gloom.The face was rugged and lean, the neck powerful. His hair was flecked with grey, the beard grey, almost white. Had she been able to see them, the eyes were a deep ice blue. They gave him a piercing look, making his face seem stern, but kind, with laughter lines to soften the cragginess.She leaned forward beside his head and stroked the side of his cheek with the back of one hand. "Penny for them?"Without opening his eyes he laughed gently, softly, almost inaudibly in the noise of the drumming rain, and said, "Not a lot, really; the old days, I suppose. The madness of youth."She giggled a little. "Do you remember, all that time ago, dancing in the storm, in the rain? It was like a pagan ritual, made me feel so alive."Abruptly she stood up, half-stooping under the rain-drummed awning. Easily.
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