When Judd met me at the door, he looked fabulous! He was wearing khakis and white socks, with a dark green T-shirt and an unbuttoned button-up in a lighter green which was perfect with his eyes.

There was an awkward moment when he couldn't figure out what to do with our hands. Did we slap or touch fists or shake hands? We settled on shaking hands, which was probably right since we really didn't know each other. I knew that the soccer guys usually touched their fists together, but since I wasn't part of that group, I didn't think he'd appreciate that.

He seemed a little nervous, but he took me in, introduced me to his parents, who both seemed nice, and took me downstairs to his room. The Thomases had a kind of a big ranch-style house. Judd's room was in the basement, but since the lot slopes away from the street, there were sliding glass doors from it onto a patio.

"Cool! You've got lots of privacy."

"Yeah. That's what I like best about being down here."

I was carrying my backpack and he told me to put it down anywhere. He gestured for me to sit in a nice upholstered chair. He turned his computer chair around, straddled it with his arms on the backrest, and said, "Louis, I really appreciate this, man. If you can help me pass this course, you'll save my ass. Can I get you a Coke or something?"

"No, I'm good, thanks. And I'm glad to help. But look, before we go any farther, there's something I think I'd better tell you."

"What?"

"Well, would it make any difference to you that I'm gay? I mean, it's not like I'm gonna come on to you or anything, but I thought you needed to know."

He sat there and looked right at me, but I couldn't read the expression on his face. Well, actually, there wasn't any expression on his face. He seemed to be thinking about how to answer me. He waited so long, finally I said, "Judd, talk to me, man!"

"Sorry. We're cool. It's okay with me. I was just thinking about the other guys on the team. How many people know you're gay?"

"I'm not generally out at school. I don't broadcast it or anything. I suppose some of the jocks think I'm gay just because I take lots of art courses and am good at something that isn't about sports. So if I can help you with Burleigh's class, that's great. But if you don't want people to know that we're working together, then it's your call. And I won't be pissed or anything."

"How could I be pissed, man? You're trying to help me. If the guys on the team don't like that, then fuck 'em."

"You're sure?"

He grinned. "Damn sure."

We spent a while talking about the course he was taking and what his problems were. I grabbed my bag and took out a book.

"This is the text for the art ap. course. Your counselor should really have put you in there instead of art history. I know you probably won't have time to read the whole book, but you might want to browse through it and read sections that talk about things you're having trouble with. And there's a great glossary of terms in the back that might help a lot."

"Cool! I'll get busy with this over the weekend."

"Whitney said you had started your term paper. That's good. A lot of guys would wait until the last minute and try to put together something off the web. What's your topic?"

He turned around and took a book off his desk. "Have you ever heard of Bernini?"

"No, I don't think so."

He opened the book where there'd been a slip of paper and then handed the book to me.

"This guy did these sculptures, see, and I think they're beautiful."

'Beautiful? This was the leader of the soccer team? A hunky jock? Since when do guys like that use a word like beautiful?

But they were. The Bernini dude had used the white marble to make you want to reach out and touch it. The guys who'd been the models all had fantastic bodies, and the way the light played on the curves and ripples in the marble was enough to give anybody a hardon. But, wait a minute! What was a straight jock like Judd doing choosing these really very sexy statues as the subject for a term paper? Interesting.