Chapter Eight My Own Private Idaho, dir. by Gus Van Sant
“Eli, do you mind staying behind?” Michael asks as the rest of Eli’s coworkers all gather their notebooks and tablets, leaving
on the table rings of condensation from their iced coffees that Eli knows he’s going to have to clean later.
It’s hard to hide his annoyance. Thanks to the rock climbing, pretty much everything except his head aches, though Michael’s
doing his best to remedy that.
Gwen from IT shoots Eli a sly glance that seems to sing You’re in trouble...
And Keith, well. He can’t stand not being involved.
“Is there something that we forgot to talk about?” Keith asks, sidling close to Michael.
“No, no,” Michael says, closing his laptop. “I just need to talk to Eli about a project he’s doing.”
“A project?” Keith can’t hide his confusion, even daring to check his notebook. “I wasn’t aware of any project Eli was assigned
to.”
“No, you weren’t,” Eli can’t help but cut in.
Michael gives Keith a sympathetic look. “It’s a private project, just between Eli and myself.”
“Oh, are you sure I don’t need to sit in on this one? Maybe I could offer some... advice?”
Eli isn’t surprised. Keith has a habit of sticking his nose in where it isn’t needed.
There was a time when Eli thought of that as a helpful quality; sometimes Keith was able to offer sound advice, or he saw a typo or error that Eli hadn’t.
Other times Keith rewrote entire paragraphs of the articles Eli had given him to read through, even making the writing worse sometimes.
Eli hates himself for how much he let Keith get away with.
“I appreciate it, Keith. But we don’t need your input on this one.”
Eli feels a swell of pride at the disappointment on Keith’s face.
“Okay, well...” Keith raps his knuckles on the table. “Just give me a call if I’m needed.”
“You won’t be,” Eli says. Sure, maybe it’s not the most professional reaction, but Michael sure doesn’t care.
Keith shoots him a glare before he gathers his things, tucking his Apple Pencil into the pocket of his shirt as he walks out
of the meeting room. For a moment, once the door is closed, he lingers, his eyes meeting Eli’s again through the pane of glass.
“So, I’ve been reading what you have so far, and it’s good stuff,” Michael says, taking the seat at the head of the table
once again. “You’re selling me on how much of a loser this guy is.”
Eli swallows. Working on two articles at the same time isn’t exactly a walk in the park, especially when both are meant to
be career defining.
“Don’t call him a loser, Michael.”
Sure, Eli had gone a little harsh in the fake article, knowing exactly what Michael would want to read. It’d felt awful, at first, lying about Peter, exaggerating their interactions, playing up
his social and romantic incompetence. But the more Eli told himself that no one besides him and Michael would ever read it,
the easier it became.
“Barks like a dog, looks like a dog, must be a dog.” Michael smiles. “The guy is almost thirty and hasn’t been on a single
date yet? Pretty pathetic.”
“Maybe you feel that way, but I think a fantastic angle for us to explore would be expectations in the queer community.” Eli can’t help himself.
The sooner he wins over Michael for this better idea, the easier this whole scheme gets.
“How a lack of experiences prevents you from learning anything about dating, intimacy, making connections. Peter comes from a really small town, so there was no one for him to have learned from. No community for him to find comfort in.”
“Ah, Eli!” Michael throws his head back. “You’re killing me.”
“What?”
“You keep wanting to make this deep and meaningful. Just write the article, talk about how much of a dud this guy is, how
you’re fixing him, and we’re good! We don’t need anything more than that.”
“But—” Eli tries to interject, and Michael stops him with a hand.
“Eli, I’m trying to help you here. I want you to learn,” Michael waxes on. “You’re writing about dating . Nothing else.”
“Why can’t dating be profound?” Eli asks.
“Because it’s dating . Get over yourself and write the story. Okay?”
Eli swallows. “Okay, yeah. I’ve got it.”
“When are you seeing him again?”
Eli pulls his phone out, double-checking his last messages from Peter. “Today, actually. We’re having lunch.”
“Good. And I like this note for him to meet your parents, that’s a smart idea. See, that’s what I’m looking for! Chase that
lead, not whatever nonsense your journalistic integrity is pulling you toward.”
“Understood, thanks...”
“You’ve got fantastic stuff here, just stop trying to make it something it’s not. We’re not highbrow, we’re not looking to
change the world.”
All Eli can do is nod solemnly.
“Thank you!” Michael slaps his hand on the table. “Feel free to take your lunch whenever he gets here.”
Eli tries his best to hide his frustration as he walks back to his desk, plugging his iPad back on the charging dock and opening
his emails. He can see Keith walking toward him out of the corner of his eye.
“Hey, Eli!” Keith hovers behind Eli’s monitor, like he’s trying to play along with some joke that hasn’t been made.
Eli deletes an email from the advertising department. “What can I do for you, Keith?”
“Nothing, I just wanted to talk.”
“About the meeting?”
“No, I mean... I was just curious.” Keith hesitates. “But it wasn’t just about that.”
“Yeah, right.”
“How about lunch?” Keith asks. “We haven’t gone out in a while.”
“Because we’re not dating, Keith. Or did you forget that?”
“I know, I know...” Keith tries his best to act ashamed. “And... I have regrets about how that went down. But just because
I no longer felt romantic toward you, that doesn’t mean we can’t still be friends, right? I was thinking we could get some
closure.”
“No, Keith. Because I’m not interested in being friends with you.”
Keith smirks that stupid dumb handsome smirk that he knows Eli fell hard for, gliding across the floor until he sits on the
edge of Eli’s desk. “Come on, let’s just grab some lunch.” Keith lets his hand drift closer and closer to Eli’s keyboard,
where Eli’s hand rests. He’s always been like this. Keith could never stand being out of the loop, unaware of what’s going
on.
Eli pulls away before Keith can even think about touching the skin between his thumb and pointer finger, a space that Keith seemed so fond of, his touch light when he traced invisible shapes there.
“Actually, I already have lunch plans.”
Keith raises an eyebrow, staring at Eli like he doesn’t believe him. “Oh, really?”
Eli can see the elevator doors opening, Peter strolling into the offices.
“Peter!” Eli calls out, waving. “Hey, baby.”
Eli has to stop himself from cringing. Peter just smiles, waving back.
Keith doesn’t dare move, like he wants Eli to be caught in some precarious position he’ll have to explain.
“Hey... sweetie?” Peter can’t say the word without it sounding like a question. Eli has to commend him for trying at least.
“You ready to go?”
Keith holds out his hand in front of Peter. “I’m Keith, nice to meet you.”
“Oh, I’m Peter...” Peter takes the hand, obviously unsure.
Keith fakes a laugh, a familiar sound to Eli’s ears, the laugh he used when they attended the fundraisers Eli’s mother had
to put on for the press, making the rounds in a room full of rich people. “So, you two are... together?” Keith looks at
Peter, giving him a once-over as if Eli needs Keith’s approval.
“Yep.” Eli grabs his bag off the back of his chair, refusing to give Keith another pathetic moment of their time. “Let’s head
out, we’ll go to the cafeteria.”
“Sounds good.” Peter tucks his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. “It was nice to meet you, Kevin!”
“It’s Keith, actually!” he corrects.
Eli hides his smile.
“And likewise!”
He and Peter head toward the elevator, the door opening just in time for them to squeeze through without having to awkwardly wait for it to arrive.
“You know, he doesn’t seem like that bad of a guy,” Peter says once they’re both behind the doors.
“Believe me, it’s a point of shame that I gave him seven years of my life.”
“Seven years?” Peter has every right to be shocked. “Wow...”
Eli shrugs. “Love makes you blind. You can’t really see how big of a douchebag someone is until you’ve broken up.”
“Was he really that bad?”
Eli pauses, staring at the ugly tiled floor. “No. Not while we were dating. But feelings like that, they have a way of hiding
the worst parts of someone, even if they’re right in front of you.”
Peter’s gaze follows Eli’s. “That’s a lot of time.”
“Rub it in, why don’t you?”
“No, I mean... I mean, I didn’t mean—”
“Peter?” Eli eyes him.
“Yeah?”
Eli remains silent, waiting for Peter to catch on.
“You’re messing with me?”
Eli nods.
“Right, right.”
“You’ve got to get better at that.”
“I have a problem with sarcasm sometimes.”
“That’s okay. That’s why I’m here.” Eli smiles, and Peter smiles back, the elevator doors finally opening.
***
“ Fargo ?”
“Nope.”
“ Before Sunrise ?”
“No.”
“ The King of Comedy ?”
Peter shakes his head.
“ The Devil Wears Prada ?”
“The one with Anne Hathaway, right?”
“Yes!” Eli exclaims.
“Haven’t seen that one either.”
“Most of those I can forgive,” Eli tells him, pointing with a string-cut french fry. “But The Devil Wears Prada , come on.”
Peter shrugs. “I haven’t seen a lot of movies.”
“Or any, it sounds like.”
“I was just never a big movie guy. I saw Spider-Man with my dad; he found the DVD in a Walmart and my mom didn’t want him to buy it but she knew how much he loves Spider-Man.”
“Those are good. I like Sam Raimi.”
“Who’s that?” Peter asks, stealing a fry.
“The director... of Spider-Man ... the first three, at least. Darkman , A Simple Plan , the Evil Dead trilogy?”
“Oh... yeah, he’s okay, I guess.”
Eli blinks in disbelief. “The guy’s name is literally at the beginning of the movie.”