Always and Forever 6
Warning: This story contains scenes of love and sexual interaction. Much of this involves males with other males. If the reading or possessing of such material as this is illegal in your country, state, province, county, municipality, etc., please leave this site immediately and do not proceed further. If you are under the legal age to read this, please do not do so. It is not my intention to offend anyone or to get you in trouble.
The author retains all rights to this original story. Please do not publish without explicit authorization from me.
Disclaimer: This story is completely fictional. Most of the places mentioned, and none of the characters exist in real life.
Always and Forever is a romantic story centering around the lives of high school kids. Lovers of other ages are also involved, but not in a cross-generational sense.
If you just interested in hot stories that will get you off, or if references to religion and God offend you, you should probably read something else. This story is about love, not just sex. I JUST REALIZED THERE IS NO SEX IN THIS CHAPTER! HOPE YOU ENJOY IT ANYWAY.
If you are still interested in reading this, I hope you will enjoy the story. . This is my first attempt at writing fiction. Please be gentle in your comments. Flames will be ignored. If you write to me, please include Always and Forever in the title of your e-mail. I get a lot of spam!
Finally, if anyone know how to contact Matt L who wrote: "Truly Blessed", please give me his e-mail or tell him that I would like to contact him again. We lost touch last spring. I just hope he is okay.
Dlee169@hotmail.com Always and Forever By David Lee
Chapter 6 New beginnings.
"Uh, Mr. Hanson, I already knew about you being queer and all and I guess it don't matter. My old man hated people like that, but he was no better. I mean, he ain't nice, so maybe he don't know what he's talking about. Oh, you know what I mean."
"Yes, I think I do. But, Tom, I prefer the term "gay" or even "homosexual" to words like queer or faggot. Those are hurtful just like when kids called you "pussy cat."
"Sorry, you'll have to teach me what is okay to say. I don't know why you are doing this, but if you are willing to take me in, I will do my best not to make you sorry."
"Tom, I know you won't make me sorry. Inside, you are a good kid and you have talent. We are going to work on that this summer. We will work on your grammar too. I want you to make a good impression when you interview for art school next winter. Maybe you can be the son I will never be able to have."
After Mr. Hanson left, Tom cried softly in his hospital room. This time his tears were not in anguish or frustration. For the first time he could remember, he cried for joy. His heart had actually been touched.
In a small city, an attempted suicide was rare and a forcible rape was even rarer. To have had two such earth-shaking events happen in a seven day period was beyond belief. On Monday the school rumor mill was grinding hot and heavy for the second week in a row. Some kids had heard that Brad was arrested for beating up Courtney because he got drunk and wanted to get laid and she refused. Others had heard that he and Alan had tried to rape her. Still others said that Brad had ditched Courtney at a bar in the next town and she had tried to hitch hike home and was molested by a trucker. Those were the more credible of the multitude of stories making the rounds.
Having rested well and eaten a good breakfast, Alan and Brad were ready for what they hoped would be a normal day at school. But starting in 1st period, each had noticed that people stopped talking when they got near. Other kids seemed to be avoiding them or kind of timidly saying: "Hi" and walking on. Since there was no homeroom that day, their usual support group was scattered in various classes. At lunch, Dave, Jeri, and Amy sat at the table with the guys as usual.
"Well, observed Brad, how come you guys aren't treating us like the disease of the month? Most of the school acts like we have AIDS or something."
"If you did, you would still be our friends," was Amy's casual reply. We don't put too much stock in the stories that circulate in this edifice of learning. We know you too well to believe any of them anyway."
Brad decided to tell his well rehearsed G-rated version of the story to clear the air. He didn't want them to know that Courtney had tried to get in his pants; and, worse for a guy's reputation, that he had held back. The others listened without interrupting. Afterwards, they asked a few questions to clarify details. At the end of the lunch period, they assured him that they would spread the truth as quickly as possible.
After school on Monday, Don Hanson drove to the hospital to get Tom. Don had made arrangements with Tom's mother so that they could pick up Tom's belongings. Alan had volunteered to help. Brad had an appointment and could not accompany them. Pastor Liz and the social worker were headed to Tom's house in separate cars; each thinking that her own presence might be a stabilizing influence.
The scene at the unkempt Katz household was a grim one. Mrs. Katz let them in and hastily retreated to her room. Mr. Katz was out on bail, but was under a "no-contact" order and could not be in the house. It took less than an hour to pack Tom's meager earthly possessions into Don's car. Alan observed that Tom had less than he had had at his poorest. And, Alan had always felt loved. Poor Tom, it must be awful to have lived like that. When they were ready to leave, Mr. Hanson looked at Tom and inclined his head toward the closed door of the room where Mrs. Katz was secluded. Tom bit his lower lip and looked back with a pleading expression. Mr. Hanson nodded his head almost imperceptibly. Tom knocked on his mother's door.
"Yes?"
"Mom, I'm leaving. I wanted to say goodbye. And I don't hate you. Uh, I gotta go."
With those words, he turned his back and literally ran from the only home he had known.
Pastor Liz smiled slightly and said in a near whisper: "I think that is as close to saying he forgives her as he can get at this point in time."
The other adults nodded.
The desk sergeant pointed Brad toward Lieutenant Gorman's office. Brad knocked tentatively.
"Thanks for coming in, Brad. I called your home to tell you not to come, but you were already on the way and must not have had you cell on. There have been some breaking developments in the past hour, and while I cannot tell you all of it, I will say this much. You are in the clear. Courtney Forbes regained consciousness this afternoon and told the whole story. I should probably fuss at you for leaving out some details, but I commend you for being a gentleman. It must have been hard to resist an offer like she made you."
"I wonder if he'd say that if he knew the real reason I got out of there," thought Brad.
Sam continued: "I have a Godson who could have done it, but he's a bit different if you know what I mean. Hmm, I wonder if that make me a fairy Godfather. Ha, ha. But you're a real guy - football and all."
"Well, Brad thought, I have my answer."
Susan was putting the finishing touches on her make-up and was appraising what she saw in the mirror. She was pleased with her reflection. She didn't know if it was because of the job or the renewed contact with her mother, or Alan's happiness, or their better financial situation, or all of the above; but she felt she looked years younger than she had a months or so ago. Her musing was interrupted by the sound of someone knocking. (The landlord never had gotten around to fix the doorbell.). Hmm, I guess Tony is early, she thought as she opened the door.
"Oh, my God, Alan is that really you?"
"Yeah, it's me, but I have gone by my middle name for the past 15 years, so I usually answer to "Travis." I had to talk to you after meeting the kid. I subbed for Don Hanson and when Alan came into the room, I knew he had to be my son. What I need to know from you is whether or not he should be told. I have no plans to try to come back into your life after all these years. I know that I could never live the straight life despite trying about 18 years ago. But, I would like to know my son if you think it wouldn't mess him up. I don't want to embarrass him or influence him to be gay too."
Susan smiled wistfully.
"Come on in Al-, uh, Travis. Tony Rossi will be here in a few minutes to pick me up for dinner, but we can talk until then. To answer your most pressing question, I think Alan should know everything. He needs to know you. He has never complained, but I can sense that he has a hole in his heart about your size. You could be a positive influence on him. Let's figure out how to break this to him gently."
Travis hugged Susan and began to sob.
"Oh, thank you. You are a saint. How can you forgive me? I ran. I never helped."
"I don't blame you now, though I did for a while. It wasn't easy raising a kid with only ADC and no emotional support. I wanted to hate you, but I finally realized that if society didn't make gays feel like outcasts you wouldn't have needed to prove your manhood in the first place. Of course, if you hadn't, the world would be missing one heck of a great kid."
Twenty minutes later, Tony Rossi pulled into the drive just as Travis was pulling away from the curb and Alan was pulling up. It was a veritable traffic jam on Washington Street. Well, maybe not, but the quiet dead-end street was far busier than usual.
After a couple of words with her son, Susan got into Tony's car and went off to dinner with him. It was a pleasant dinner in the Olive Garden restaurant which had recently opened. This was haute cuisine for the small Midwestern city, and Tony was good company. Susan had nearly put the reunion with Travis on the back burner, or so she thought.
"You seem a little distracted, was that good looking guy at you house an old boyfriend? Will I have to fight a duel for you attention?" Tony quipped as they were finishing.
"Uh, I'm sorry. An old boyfriend? Yes. A rival? No. We are friends, or at least, I hope we will be again. It's a long story and someday, if I get to know you better, I may tell it to you.
"Susan, I hope that you will get to know me a lot better," Tony replied as he put his right hand over her left.
Alan sat in his room deep in thought. Mom's explanation of Mr. Naughton's presence at their house had been flimsy at best. A sub wouldn't have been that impressed by the work of a "B" level art student. Now if it had been Tom's work, maybe. No, there had to be another explanation and it must have to do with the uncanny resemblance between Travis Naughton and himself. He must be a relative. Grandma would know. Should he call his newly discovered grandmother? He picked up the phone and put it down again. Would she think he was being a nuisance?
Alan heated up some leftovers in the microwave. He didn't mind eating alone. His mother had looked radiant as she left with Tony. Alan thought she looked beautiful. To him, she had always looked good because she was his mom; but in the presence of a date, she looked special. Maybe, she's in love, he thought. Yes, that would explain a lot of things.
After eating and putting his dishes in the dishwasher, Alan took a deep breath and punched in Judith Jenkin's phone number. His grandmother's warm greeting washed away any apprehension he had had.
"Grandma, there is a guy here that looks a lot like me. Can you tell me if I am related to someone named, Travis Naughton?"
There was silence on the other end of the line. Alan wondered if the connection had been broken.
"Are you sure his name is "Travis?"
"Yeah, I think so. That's what I saw on the board when he subbed."
"Alan, I think that may be his middle name. What is your middle name, by the way?"
"It's "Travis" too. There is a connection!"
"Alan, hang up and let me call you back. I don't want to run up you mother's bill and this is going to take a while."
Brad was feeling both relieved and frustrated. He had tried to call Alan to give him the good news, but Susan had said he was not home from helping Tom.
Then Brad's family had gone out to eat to celebrate the fact that Brad had been exonerated. Actually, Fran had said it was because she didn't feel like cooking, but the family knew. No one wanted to admit to celebrating with Courtney still in the hospital and her assailants presumably still on the loose.
When the Jacobs family got home, Brad tried to call again, but found the line busy. After a half hour of this, he decided to go to Alan's. He knocked and waited and knocked again. What was taking so long? He was about to give up and go home when he was met by a tearful Alan.
"Babe, what's wrong?"
"Just hold me."