I Will Follow You Into the Dark

CHAPTER 11

The next morning, Derek woke up with a hangover the size of.......well he couldn't really think straight enough to identify something large enough to fit his hangover........he just knew it was really huge. He knew he deserved the way he felt after drinking so much scotch and after planning to be "sick" that day. He rolled out of bed, vowed never to drink again, and threw on some clothes. After grabbing the type of unhealthy breakfast at a local diner that Derek only craved when hungover, he made his way down to the docks, trying to convince himself that he felt human enough to go fishing.

Jim smiled when he saw him coming. As Derek approached, the older, much larger man clapped Derek on the back and greeted him with a really loud, "How ya been, Derek?" Derek winced from the voice booming in his ear. Jim laughed, "You always show up here wanting to fish when you're hungover. For a young guy, you sure are predictable." Jim chuckled, "Rough one?"

Derek nodded. "Woman trouble?" Jim continued to inquire. "Something like that," Derek muttered. Jim helped him by loaning him his spare motorboat. It was the smallest one around, but Derek just needed enough motor to get him out to his favorite solitary spot for an afternoon of fishing. Grabbing Jim's backup tackle box, Derek climbed in the boat and set off. "Hope they're biting!" Jim yelled for good measure, leaving a still hungover Derek grimacing at him for the noise and shaking his head.

Fishing. He always ended up fishing at times like this. It was good therapy. He hated the fact that Mark had ruined fishing for him forever. He still loved doing it and still fished often but he couldn't go fishing without thinking about Mark and the hours they spent fishing in Ecuador. They had had their very best conversations on those fishing outings. Mark had listened to Derek's pining for his girlfriend, and Derek had listened to Mark's grumbles about his family or his rambling about how much sex he was going to be having when he got back to the States. They talked about their dreams and their fears and some of their deepest secrets.

Derek sat at his favorite shady spot with a line cast out and a beer in hand. This hangover required alcohol.......it demanded it. Finally feeling a little better, he kept an eye on his line and pondered the misery he felt. And as expected, his thoughts wandered back to Mark.

After the long day of flying back to Ecuador after their trip home, Derek and Mark settled into a hotel in Quito for the night. They would be making the difficult journey to their village the following day. Mark's spirits had lifted the moment they'd touched down at the airport. He was thrilled to be back in the place he truly loved. Derek's mood, however, had plummeted. He was physically aching because he missed his girlfriend so much. They really didn't need to unpack since they were staying just the one night, so they immediately found themselves sitting around and staring at the walls of their hotel room.

"Get up," Mark said to Derek. "We're going out to a bar. We won't be in a bar for another six months, and I want some scotch. Now."

"You go ahead, I'll just stay here," Derek pouted.

"Get your mopey ass off that bed. We're going out if I have to carry you out. Don't make me do it."

Derek considered arguing but he was too tired and unhappy. So he got up, and the pair wandered the streets until they found a bar that suited them. They ordered their scotch and sat not even talking. Mark always insisted that they leave one bar stool between them so that nobody would think they were a couple. "Nobody'd think I'd be desperate enough to fall for you, loverboy," Derek always said, but Mark never listened. It was just one of those things, and Derek had grown accustomed to it. Mark liked the plan because it always left room for women to approach them, and someone always did.

As expected, about half an hour later, a lovely young woman sat down between them and ordered a beer. She said hello and sat quietly nursing her beer. Struck by her beauty, Mark immediately started hitting on her. Derek had thrown back his drinks a bit faster than usual, and he was a bit tipsy. He kept cracking jokes to distract the lady from Mark's advances. The two men kept eyeing each other threateningly when the woman wasn't watching. Derek turned up the charm just to spite Mark by reeling her in. And she fell prey to Derek's flirty looks and sense of humor.

Supremely frustrated that Derek had all of her attention, Mark went to the restroom to plot his next move. Derek wasn't even interested--he was doing this just to frustrate him. And to make sure that Mark didn't have more sex than he'd had that week. It irked Mark a great deal, so he vowed to go back to the bar and take action. "Miss me?" he asked the lady who had turned completely around to face Derek by that time.

"Jime didn't miss you, Mark. Neither did I," Derek said. "So you've introduced yourselves, huh?" Mark asked surprised. "Yes," Jime said. "Your friend is very polite."

"He's also practically engaged," Mark spat—thinking that Derek's friend would be frustrated by learning that news.

"I know. He told me. He misses his girlfriend very much. I think it's sweet"

"Yeah......," Derek said truthfully. Jime patted his thigh encouragingly. "I'm sure she misses you, too."

Mark tried to jump into the conversation, "So, Jime, is it? Are you from Quito?"

"No. Actually, I'm on my way back home to Argentina. I'm just passing through like you are."

"Oh," said Mark. "So we're like ships that pass in the night or something."

"Or something," Derek said laughing at his friend's feeble attempt. Jime laughed with him.

The night continued that way. Derek and Jime really hit it off, and they spent the evening talking. There was nothing inappropriate about their actions except that Mark didn't have a chance to get to know her. And that left him really frustrated. When Derek left to go to the restroom, Mark was thrilled to have a chance to talk to Jime all alone. He was just turning on his own charm when her friend wandered over. She spent the rest of her time alone with him talking to her friend. Rolling his eyes, Mark gave up. By the time Derek got back, Mark was ready to leave. "It's late. We'd better turn in. We have an early morning."

"But I'm not ready to leave," Derek said honestly. "Get your butt off that barstool, or I'll call your girlfriend and tell her all about your new Argentinean friend." Mark snapped. "Some friend you are," Derek muttered, "we were just talking." They said their goodbyes. Jime shook Mark's hand, but she gave Derek a big hug before they left. And Mark complained about that night nearly nonstop for the next six months.

"Can I help it if I'm irresistible?" Derek always asked when the topic came up. "She was hot, Derek. We'd have had fabulous, mindblowing sex if you hadn't distracted her out of pure meanness."

"Sorry, man. She said she liked my hair. Nobody who's into my hair would ever look at you twice. Why would they? It's great hair."

"You are such a girl," Mark would always snap in response.