All the characters and events in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to real people, either living or dead, is entirely unintentional.
The story is copyrighted and may not be reproduced in any way without the express permission of the author who can be contacted at: pjalexander1753@gmail.com
A Very Ordinary Boy (Part 2)
From Chapter 9:
But you're here and you've listened to me for, like, forever and you've taken off your Nikes -- I've only just noticed -- so I'm hoping that means that I haven't totally blown it with you (even though I have blown you -- yes, another joke). Is that a nod and a smile? And you do understand about Friday night and we can chill and slow things down. But now you've gotta go. But you'll be back tomorrow. And I can tell you, then, about Chalkey White coming round. And, yes, I can have a kiss before you go.
Chapter 10:
And it's a big hand for Mr. Grey Garvey, winner of this year's all-comers popularity contest. No, seriously, seems like you've won over the parents and got the thumbs up from both of them. Mum, apparently, was impressed with what my gran said about you being really supportive and stuff. So typical of her, always seeing the psychological angle in anything. And dad thought you were both considerate and polite on Saturday morning, you know, when you left first thing, after my freak-show performance on Friday night. He said you were obviously in a hurry but still stopped to explain why you had to go and about not disturbing me `cause I was asleep. Said you can stay over anytime, no need to ask for permission in advance. So max impressive all round. Good job!
And it goes from me, too, total appreciation for the way you stuck with me all night and didn't run a million miles from the nut-job. Yeah, I know I've said it before but I couldn't ever say it enough, even if I told you fifty times a day, every day. Which I'm not gonna do but just know that it's true. And you can, you know, stay over any time. Whenever you want. If you do ever want. No expectations. No pressure.
Saturday, after you'd gone, well, like I said, I was way relieved when my dad told me what you'd said about why you were leaving so suddenly, with no mention to him of me freaking out. But when I started going over in my head, everything that happened last Friday night, I felt, I dunno, like that had been a completely different person, not really me at all. At least, not the me I want to be. I know you probably don't want to hear this, not after we've said we're gonna slow things down and not rush into anything heavy, but I did want to have sex with you on Friday. And I still do. Yeah, I know, I know, as soon as we'd got to the point where you were gonna, well, you know what, as soon as that happened, that's when I freaked. But the more I thought about it over the weekend, the more I realised that the freaking out was because I hadn't thought it through, hadn't talked to myself about what I wanted. Yeah, I know that sounds weird, but I talk to myself all the time. Sometimes it's cause there's no-one else around, but mostly it's cause I'm the most sensible person for me to talk to, and mostly that's okay cause me and me usually understand each other, though it can get awkward and a bit confusing if I start answering back at me, you know, disagreeing and telling me I've got things wrong. But even more important than talking to myself about the sex stuff, I hadn't talked to you. I hadn't told you that I was ready to go all the way, hadn't asked you if you felt the same. And we hadn't talked about what we like, not that I could have made much of a contribution to that conversation, not when my entire sexual experience begins with being raped by Noah and ends with making out with you, along with a side order of I'll-eat-yours-if-you-eat-mine'. Not exactly Mr. Incredibly-Experienced Superstud.
What's that - do I think you are? What? A stud? Well, no, not exactly, but you did say that you and the other guys on the swimming team do stuff together and you told me that Milo de Beer is a great cummer, and there aren't many ways you could find that out. So, yeah, you're way ahead of me as far as experience goes. And, I `spose, because I knew you were more experienced I just assumed you'd be the one to do the actual fucking and that I'd be happy to be the taker. But what do I know? It's not as if my one and only full sexual experience was a masterclass in romance and mutual affection. I think what I'm trying to say is that I'm sorry -- sorry for scaring you, sorry for not talking to you, sorry for screwing everything up. And, now, that's it. I've said everything I'm gonna say about it. Scouts honour! No more apologising. Now we move on. Yeah, slowly, like we said. And we only do what we both want to do. (You have my permission to do another dance for me, anytime.) And we talk about stuff.
Talking about talking about stuff, I said I'd tell you about Chalky White's visit. Well, I won. Yeah, in that art competition I told you about. Apparently he got the heads up from someone he knows who was involved in setting it up. No, I didn't win the whole thing. Obviously. There were loads of proper artists who entered. No, in the Young Artist category. The judges said ... hang on, I wrote it down. They said I'd created a contemporary, imaginative and skilful reinterpretation of a classic subject. And not just a `highly commended'. I got second prize. I get to choose a whole load of art materials from a specialist on-line supplier. How cool is that? I don't know, yet, how much I get to spend. Chalky said he'd let me know once he'd heard, officially, from the competition organiser. Even if I say it myself, I'm dead pleased. And my mum and dad are treating it as if I've won the lottery. Said they'll take me out for a special dinner. When I'm feeling up to it. When I'm better. And Rosa's so happy she made me a whole bunch of chocolate caramel brownies. And yeah, I'm happy to share.
It was good to see Chalky. Mostly we talked about art stuff. Never mentioned school or me hurting myself. He did say he missed having me around and that some of the other arty-types had been asking about me. Stuff like they missed me and when was I gonna be back. Chalky said they look up to me. I was, like, totally surprised but it made me feel good. You know, it made me think that, maybe, people cared about me. It also got me wondering, maybe going back to school might not be as hard as I'd started to think it would, not if you're there, and Chalky, and the other art crowd kids. Made me think I wouldn't be totally alone and isolated. Though I haven't heard from Dyl again, not since that day he came round. And nothing at all from Si, but no surprise there.
Chalky didn't stay too long, said he just wanted to let me know, straightaway, about winning a prize in the competition. Then, and he was on his way out the door when this happened, he turned round and said how brave he thought I was, and that he was impressed with how well I was doing. Then he walked back towards me and asked if I would be fine with it if he gave me a hug. I mean, a hug. From a teacher -- even if it was Chalky White. How weird is that? So I just sorta shrugged and said that, yeah, that would okay, but not to think that meant that we we're dating or anything. I said it as a joke, you know, like sorta nervous, but for a moment he looked as if he thought I meant it. He had a look on his face that I've never seen before and then he said that he takes his professional responsibilities totally seriously and would never, ever take advantage of a student, no matter how much he liked them. Just for a moment I thought he was gonna say attracted to' but he didn't, he said like'. Then he turned round again and walked out. No hug after all! Shit, it was weird. You don't think that he'll be different with me, do you? When I go back to school, I mean. Just because of a stupid joke? But, like I said, I was nervous and, if I'm honest, a bit weirded out by the whole hug idea. And what did he mean when he said he liked me? Did I tell you before that I think he might be gay? Oh yeah, I remember now. Well, obviously, if he is, that wouldn't bother me one bit. But if he's gay and he likes' me, well, that would be majorly weird. Over-thinking it? Yeah, I spose I am. But's it's still weird.
And talking of being weirded out, Chalky wasn't the only person to do that to me today. I had another `two-for-the-price-of-one' visit from Rosa and gran (sounds like the title of a kids' story book) and they told me about the latest idea they've come up with. They've decided, finally, to drop the idea of me going to the police to report what happened on the camping trip. They accept that I'm right about it being his word against mine and, because of that, the chances of getting it to court are somewhere between nada and zero. Not that I think that's what I want. Standing up in front of a judge, and mum and dad, and Rosa and Granny S, having to explain what happened that night, I mean, who'd want to do that? Yeah, fair play to anyone who feels that they can put themselves through that, but not me. There's no way I've got the cajones for something as brave as that.
Anyway, like I say, they've given up on the police and court and all that legal shit but they still think that something needs to happen so that, "You can put yourself back together," -- that was Rosa -- and, "Get on with living your life" -- gran. When I told them that I was working on it, but that Doctor Loveless says it's gonna take time, they said that I'm young and I shouldn't, "Have the best years of your life ruined by something that's not your fault" -- Rosa again. I asked them what choice did I have and that's when they both looked very pleased with themselves and, like those twins in the in the Alice story -- tweedlesomething - they looked at each other and said, "RJ!" Like it was the greatest news ever and something to celebrate.
I didn't get it and I must have looked like a complete empty-brainer. "Who?" I asked. "Who the f ..., who the hell is RJ?" I mean, I don't know anyone with those initials, and definitely no-one who could help me get on with living my life.' Do you? Know anyone called RJ, I mean? Exactly. And that's when they told me that it wasn't a who' but a `what'. It seems that RJ stands for something called Restorative Justice. No, I'd never heard of it either and they didn't make a whole lot of sense when they tried explaining it to me. They said it was all about giving someone who's been the victim of a crime an opportunity to meet with the criminal and tell them how they've been affected by what happened. The criminal, they said, is supposed to apologise.
I couldn't believe it. They're thinking I'm gonna be cool about sitting in a room with Noah and telling him how getting raped by him made me want to kill myself, and he's just gonna sit there and then say sorry. No way! No fucking way. I may be a nut-job but I'm not stupid. And anyway, where did they get this totally screwed-up idea from in the first place? That's what I wanted to know. They said they'd been talking to old Mrs. Harrington again and it was her who came up with it. At least, not her exactly. It was Tani. She's been spending time with Noah and reckons that he's ready to own up to what he did to me and wants to put things right between us. That's as long as there wouldn't be any police involved, or anyone official at all. Yeah, right! She's doing some sort of sociology course and has been learning about this RJ stuff and thought it could work for me and Noah, to straighten things out, you know. I mean, what fucking planet is she on? So I told the gruesome twosome that there was no way I was gonna get within half a mile of Noah (though I still didn't give away his name), not without an armed guard and pepper spray. When I told them that I wasn't interested they both got a bit huffy, said I should at least think about it.
After they'd gone I felt pretty shitty for the way I'd blown them off like that, so I did what they said they wanted me to do. I thought about it. I thought about how my life is totally stuck in the slow lane `cause of what happened with Noah. I thought about how it's time that for that to change, that I want to get unstuck. I thought about you, and me, and you and me, thought that I want to find out where you and me might go. And then I thought about Noah. No, no need to worry, it didn't make me mad or upset me. Truth to tell, it was probably the first time since the rape that I had thought about him, I mean properly thought about him. Yeah, Doctor Hapless has been trying to get me to face up to what happened and "confront all the feelings the incident engendered". And I surprised myself by thinking that, yeah, it's time to do that, and, even more surprising, I reckon I'm ready to do it.
So I went on-line and looked up this Restorative Justice stuff and found out that gran and Rosa hadn't got it quite right. Yeah, the basic scenario is a meeting between the harmed person' (they don't get called a victim) and the person who caused the harm' (and they're not called the criminal). But it wouldn't be like I thought they meant. No, it wouldn't just be the two of us in a room. There'd be other people, like friends or family. And someone called a mediator or facilitator, someone who, sort of, leads the meeting and makes sure that everyone has a chance to say what they want to say, without anybody getting angry or aggressive or any shit like that. And it doesn't even happen at all unless everyone agrees to be there and to stick to the rules that are decided by the group. I wrote down a definition of RJ that I liked. It says:
Restorative Justice brings together those harmed by an offence and those responsible for the harm and supports them in communicating about their feelings and needs arising from that offence.
Basically what I think that means is I would get a chance to tell Noah how it feels to have been tricked by him into thinking that we might be friends' but then ending up being abused by him and then dumped like a wet towel. And, as well as that, I might get to hear from him why he did it and, you never know, that he wishes it hadn't all happened. Yeah, I know it's a long shot. I mean, why would he even want to do it. Maybe Tani's got it wrong. For starters, it would mean him owning up to exactly what he did to me, even though anyone involved in it would have to agree to him not getting in trouble with the law. And he wouldn't want his dad to know anything about it. But even then, he'd still come out of it smelling really bad cause people would know just what a heap of shit he really is.
I dunno what to think. When I talked to myself about the idea I totally couldn't agree with me. Yeah, it could be a way to get stuff back on track and finally start to be normal again (whatever that is), but maybe it'd freak me out to see Noah again and I'd be back to how I was after the camping trip.
What's that? Yeah, making-out could definitely help. Stupid question. It would so give me something else to think about. And if you wanted to do another dance, well, I wouldn't turn that down! No? You don't want to get me over-excited? Don't you know that just having you here in the room with me makes me excited? I meant what I said a little earlier, you know. I totally do think that I might be falling in love with you. And I know that's not a cool thing to say, especially as we're only just getting to know each other, and that admitting to it could frighten you off. But even knowing all that, I still want to be upfront with you, even if it's not a good move. What do you mean, you want me to shut the fuck up? Oh, you mean you can't kiss me if I keep talking. Not another word. I promise.
As an author, it's REALLY encouraging to know that there are people out there who are taking the time to read what I've written, and then bothering to send a response. So please, do feel free to write to me at the email address given at the top of the chapter. I welcome all comments and guarantee to write back. PJ
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