Ambush

The following fictional story deals with sex among males. If you are offended by such material, are too young, or reside in an area where it is not allowed, depart. Though not observed in this story, care enough about yourself and humankind to practice safe sex.

The author retains all rights. No reproductions or links to other sites are allowed without the author's consent.

EvanBradley33@Yahoo.com

Chapter 36 Shifting Centers

On Monday evening, Miles Forbisher phoned Evan Halsey, catching him in the study grading tests. "Thank you, Evan, thank you, thank you."

Evan stared out the window, trying to recall what he might have done to make Miles so happy. "But my check for Jeremy's adoption and the addition of a codicil to my will wasn't that big," Evan responded.

"I'm talking about Jim and me. I drove back to town early this morning after a weekend on his farm."

Evan laughed with delight, remembering what had been scheduled, reveling in his friend's obvious happiness. "I can hear in your voice that it went well."

"Well indeed!" Silence ensued.

"So you're going to make me ask for details?" Evan asked archly. "I paid my bill promptly. Now you pay yours."

Miles chuckled. "We were like rabbits. We started out in the barn after we had cleaned all the stalls. Up in the hayloft again - with our boots on." Evan laughed. "Saturday night, I got that massage you suggested that Jim give me. Jim got one too. Do you know how an evening of sex can be prolonged when it starts out with two guys trading massages?"

Evan's head shook a bit. "Now that you mention it, I don't. I've missed something."

"You and Ron will have to try it."

Evan's brow creased, but he asked, "So what else?"

"Sunday morning we slept in - in each other's arms. Then we made slow, easy love. Sunday afternoon, we rode horses all over the farm. We stopped by a clear stream and went skinny dipping."

"A-n-d?" Evan pressed.

We traded slow blowjobs. Sunday night, we made dinner and then talked the evening away - until time for bed, that is." Miles chuckled. "Yeah," he responded to Evan's unasked question, "Jim was hungry for me again. What could I do?"

"You Dawg!" Evan charged, laughing with Miles.

"We're good together, Evan, in the sack or out. I've never had an experience like this with anyone. Every minute we were totally there for each other. He wants me so much he makes me top him every time."

"Oh, I can see the arm-twisting now. The Brute. Forcing you like that."

Miles roared at Evan's irony. After settling down, he spoke softly, "I'm a willing victim."

"So it's love, then?" Evan asked hopefully.

Miles hesitated, recalling his and Jim's discussion of love with Ron after the ballgame. "Surely feels like it, but we aren't rushing to declare it yet. We want to be certain." Even though Miles was speaking of only Jim and himself, Evan felt reproached. "Then I drove back to town early this morning after we made love again. Did you see Jim at school?"

"No, I didn't. Now I know why. Poor guy. You obviously wore him out. He didn't even have strength left to crawl out of the basement where his office is," Evan teased.

"Evan, you would not believe how Jim prepared for this weekend. He had farm clothes and work boots waiting for me. He'd checked with Rosamund about my sizes." He laughed. "I didn't even know my secretary possessed such information about me. I guess it's the mother in her. He'd prepared or bought things ahead for every meal. The house was immaculate. He had massage oil ready. He'd picked out music for dinner Saturday and Sunday evenings. I wonder if he didn't decide what topics we discussed in that long talk we had, sitting in recliners in the family room. I was so touched." Miles paused. "I wonder what I can do to pay him back, to show him that same level of attention to detail for making him feel comfortable, appreciated?"

"You'll know, Miles. It'll come to you."

"Yeah, I think it may come up this week, but it may be an insurmountable obstacle," Miles grumbled.

"That sounds ominous," Evan observed.

"Later this week I meet with Brenda Belton's attorney so that we can work out the details of a divorce settlement."

"Oh," Evan said glumly. "I've been thinking about that, Miles. It's none of my business, and I'm not asking you to violate any confidence or ethical canon to respond to what I'm about to say. Regard it merely as my worrying about Jim, but I've had this sinking feeling every time I think about Jim's love for his farm. I can't help but think that the farm will have to be sacrificed so that a settlement can be made. I really don't know Brenda. I saw her occasionally at all-school picnics when faculty brought their families. I think Jim introduced us once. I believe she has a degree in information science. It's my impression that librarians don't earn a lot unless they work for a school district where a salary schedule is in place. So I'm certain she will want her share of the farm - probably even need it. I think something bad may happen for Jim. That farm is so much a part of his history, his identity."

"I know. Caring for Jim as I do and being an attorney, I've played 'What if' over his losing the farm. He's going to need his friends, Evan, if that occurs. Will you and Ron be available to help fill his time if that does happen?"

Evan started to reply in the affirmative, but his brow creased again. "I certainly shall be available, and I'll be seeking Jim out at school if he seems to be holing up. He helped me more than once when I needed it, so now I can repay his kindness. I can't speak for Ron, but he'd appreciate it if you talked to him."

"You won't be talking to him?" Miles asked.

Evan cleared his throat, stalling, never having reached this very moment when he had to acknowledge to anyone but himself that something was wrong in Ron's and his relationship. "Hm-m-m, I don't see Ron at school much. We aren't going out as often."

Miles didn't reply immediately. Evan could feel himself blushing even though Miles was not physically present. "I guess that's why the four of us haven't been able to make that dinner together happen," Miles commented.

Now it was Evan's turn to avoid replying immediately. He sighed in defeat. "Something's not right. I don't know what, Miles. I need to take myself to the woodshed for avoiding dealing with it. It's so unlike me. If a challenge presents itself, I just wade into it feet first to meet and resolve it. But I'm hanging back for the first time in my life. I'm not proud of admitting that. Maybe this situation reminds me too much of another time in my life when a relationship fell apart. I tell myself that I'm busy at school and busy at home with Jeremy and also with Troy, now that he's living here. Did you know that?"

"Yes, Ron sat with Jim and me at the ballgame last week. He told us."

Immediately, Evan wondered what else was discussed. "I know I'm dodging the issue about Ron and me. It's humbling. I've always expected my students not to flinch or flail when life puts issues in their path, and I've been impatient when they've held back or delayed in meeting it head on. Now I'M doing it. Believe me, I'll approach their situations more compassionately in the future. Instead of pushing them, I'll nudge them because I'll be remembering what I feel like now."

Miles chuckled. "But you'll still be moving them forward rather than allowing them to stew. That's so you, Evan."

"What's that mean?" Evan asked, pitching a little attitude, quaking under what he thought was a critical eye, not realizing that he himself was chiefly responsible for his own discomfort.

"Don't get your dander up, friend. I'm celebrating your nurturing orientation to your students and friends. You can't kid me. You don't want those kids hurting any more than is necessary. It drives you crazy to sit by watching them do that."

"Ouch," Evan exclaimed.

"What?" Miles asked, concern registering in his voice.

"You just fingered me."

"Was it as good for you as it was for me?" Miles asked suggestively.

"Horn Dog! I mean you reminded me of a student, Tony Francini, who's probably feeling very ambiguous now."

"Tony Francini of Francini's Italian Restaurant?" Miles asked.

"The same. At Jeremy's reception, he teased me about supposed trysts I'd had in a special alcove at his family's restaurant. He blurted it out in front of some of my students who didn't know about that. It's really no big deal. He was referring to my having dinner with Tim Minor, a teacher with whom I was involved for a little while. Tim then dumped me for a knockout college student, a chem major. They moved off to the capital together when Tim changed jobs."

"The relationship you just referred to? That's the same guy who brought Ron to your school?"

"The same."

"Was he trying to make up for what he'd done to you by sending Ron to fill his place as teacher and lover?"

Evan sighed. "I don't know. I've never talked about his having such an intention before. Anyway, your comment reminds me that I need to talk to Tony tomorrow. He's a great kid. His girl friend is also a student of mine. In fact, if I have success stories, Tony is one of them. I already admire the man he's going to grow up to be."

"I can imagine what that last statement would mean to him if he heard Evan Halsey utter it."

Evan barked out a laugh. "Alright. Now you're doing my shtick - nudging me to get off my butt and resolve this issue for Tony's benefit."

Miles laughed. He paused. "Maybe if you can do it for Tony, you can do it for Ron and Evan too?"

Evan was silent for a bit. "You were a camp counselor when you were in high school or college, weren't you? Spent summers taking care of scrapes and cuts, bug bites, helping kids combat homesickness by learning to stand on their own two feet? Getting them to stretch beyond their own shallow expectations?"

Miles laughed. "You got me!"

"And I'll never let you live it down!" They both chuckled. "Who knows, maybe some of that will help you with Jim as he adjusts to the changes in his life," Evan suggested, relieved he was deflecting attention from his own dilemma. "Your support will mean much. Maybe you harbor some 'camp counselor perspectives' in your memory banks that will boost your effectiveness."

"Okay," Miles said, "now who's nudging?"

They both laughed. "Maybe that's why we're friends," Evan observed. "Getting back to the point, I know Ron would be touched if you would ask him yourself to stand by in case Jim needs our support. . . . Miles, it suddenly occurs to me that if this settlement goes against Jim, he'll totally withdraw, become a phantom, even avoid us. Is that your reading too?"

"Yes," Miles spoke softly. "He'll hurt big time, Evan. One of the memories I brought back from the farm is how much that farm means to him, how much it's his patrimony. It's woven into his being. He's a man of the land: he feels responsible to generations of his family even though they've passed on. I'm not confident at all that he'll find me a sufficient bulwark during a time that tests him to the depths of his being. I just realized that our new relationship will be tested too."

Neither Miles nor Evan spoke, but they felt much. "This conversation started out on such a high note but has reached such a somber point," Miles remarked.

"It needed to be said," Evan rejoined. "Okay, Miles, let me know when and if I can do anything for Jim. I'll start making contact with him at least once a day at school even if I have to hunt him up."

"I'd appreciate it, Evan," Miles responded sincerely. "Work on Tony, and then Ron too, okay? You need to feel better about those fellas."

Evan thought to himself, 'No way I'm going near Ron until I know he really wants me.'

When they'd said their goodbyes, Evan sat at his desk, musing for perhaps five minutes.

Troy stuck his head in the door. "Earth to Evan, Earth to Evan. When do you land?"

Evan turned toward Troy, smiling. "What's up, Dude?"

"Just taking a study break. The house is so quiet, I decided to see if you were still here."

Evan just smiled. "Jeremy's at work."

"You okay?" Troy asked.

Evan nodded his head, but then in a sudden reverse, shrugged his shoulders. Troy walked in, swiveled Evan's desk chair back toward the desk, and began kneading his shoulders, making Evan moan. "You're tight, Evan. You have some knotted muscles here. Did you know that?"

"No."

"It's Ron, isn't it? I mean Ron and you, right?"

"Yes. Did I give it away?"

"No. Susan and I talked about it a little at lunch. She figured it out just by studying you when our class was in the library. . . . Funny, isn't it?"

"What?"

"We hit periods in life when nothing seems to be working out, seems to be falling apart. Tim and you. Greg Dunwoodie and Ross Brownlee. Byron Okata and Melanie Simpson. Tony and . . . . My dad and me. And now Ron and you.

Evan knew Troy meant Tony Francini. "Finish what you were going to say about Tony."

"Tony and you." Troy cleared his throat. "He's feeling bad, Evan. Thinks he's delivered life's cruelest blow to you with that comment at the reception. Says you don't want him near you now. We keep telling him to talk to you, but he won't do it. I don't know why. You're really important to him. Angela was going to talk to you, but when Tony learned about it, he put his foot down. He wouldn't allow her to do it. That man can be really stubborn! So she's feeling bad too."

"Okay. I'll take care of it soon. I'm ashamed I've been so distracted with other things."

"You mean my moving in here, right?"

Evan shot up, turning around, pulling Troy against him hard, causing Troy to hug back. "NO, damn it! Your being here, our being able to make you a part of our home, that's one thing that's going right around here. Don't you feel that? Know that?"

"I just don't want to be a burden."

"You're anything but!" Evan leaned back, looking up at Troy. "With all we've been through and meant to each other, Troy, we've committed to each other. We're way past any issue of your being a burden."

"Thanks, Evan," Troy said, leaning down and kissing the top of Evan's head.

Evan cocked his head back, looking up at Troy again, a combative look in his eyes, a frown on his face, delivering a fake gut punch to Troy. "You kissed me on the top of my head. I'm not a little kid."

"Okay then," Troy muttered, leaning down and pulling Evan into a hot kiss with tongue, which Evan returned. When they broke, Troy looked deeply into Evan's eyes, making him wonder what was coming next. "Evan, what do you do when it feels like everything's falling apart in your life?"

"Restore your center, or move to a new one if the old one isn't working anymore."

"Center?"

"Whatever anchors you, activates you, serves as your gyroscope. For strong people, it's something they internalized at significant moments in their lives, something to which they cleaved because they recognized that it was an important concept, image, totem, talisman, philosophy, value, person, situation that they realized transmitted energy, from which they drew strength and purpose. The center can be a lot of things. For weak people, it's something that is external to them, not internal. When it's external, they have no control over it. It controls them. They are always reactive, never proactive. For young people, it's often family, assuming it's a health family. Sometimes when families aren't healthy, young people have to look for another center. Unfortunately, they don't always choose well."

"Oh, that's why you took me in," Troy exclaimed. "I lost my family as a center when Dad kicked me out. You didn't want me making a bad choice for another center."

"We took you in because we love you, brother, Lion, friend."

"Why do you have to restore the center if you cleaved to it before?"

"Time, tide and circumstance cause us to lose focus, stray, loosen our hold on our center, shift to another center or somebody else's center, sometimes without knowing we've done it. Or as I indicated about dysfunctional families, it isn't working as it should."

"Why does it sound difficult to restore the center?"

"Usually because your inclinations seduced you away from it. Anything that seduces us away from our moorings is powerful. For whatever reason on whatever level, you wanted that other thing that is not your center, is not compatible with it; otherwise, you could not have been seduced away. And when the shift occurred, you didn't ask yourself what the price for shifting was - if you were even aware of the shift at all. Wanting is a force, superseded only by anger, pain, fear, and hate in power." Evan suddenly smiled. "Sex belongs to the category of wanting. We don't fight wanting naturally, so it takes a lot of effort to restore the center." Upon uttering those words, Evan couldn't help but think of Ron and him. Sex had been their center, he suddenly realized. "Please understand, Troy, that I'm saying all this humbly because I've lost my center too."

"Ron?"

Evan shook his head in the affirmative. "We never took the time to establish a workable center for our relationship. We just jumped into a sexual relationship, which became our center. For many reasons that we overlooked, sex is not a good center for a relationship that needs to grow and deepen. It's a powerful means to a noble end. We allowed it to be the end itself. That's when it can become a dead end."

"How can something as pleasurable as sex be a dead end?"

"When it makes you settle for less than you or your sex partner could have, are capable of having, or deserve. When that happens, it's no more valuable than Fool's Gold, iron pyrite, which, for all its glitter, holds no precious metal."

"I guess there's a lot of Fool's Gold out there for us to grab onto?" Troy asked tentatively.

"You've got it. And no one's immune to its allure."

Just then the phone rang. Troy snagged the receiver. "Halsey residence." He listened for a few seconds.

"Hey, Babe. You studying or working on your research paper?" Troy listened, grinning, mischief shining in his eyes.

"Yeah, it's the pits to have a slave driver as an English teacher, who makes us work so hard we can't even be together during the week," Troy groaned, aping suffering. Evan freed himself from Troy's one arm, sassily flipping the bird at Troy while walking out of the study.

Later, on a midweek night, the Halsey residence was quiet. Its habitues were within its walls, Evan grading papers in the sunroom, Jeremy in the family room reading a chapter for his World History class the next day, and Troy working at the computer in the study on a chemistry lab report due on Friday. Evan jumped from sudden banging on the front door. As he arose and moved hastily to see who was at the door, he wondered why he always assumed someone needed a phone to report an accident when he or she pounded on the door.

Evan peered out through the small glass circle in the front door and through the glass screen door. The porch light illumined the caller, a stranger, an older man, but he looked slightly familiar: tall, broad-shouldered, dark blond hair, darker mustache, square jaw, good-looking. Evan opened the door. "Get Troy!" the man demanded.

'Ah,' Evan thought, studying the caller, 'this must be Troy's father.'

"I said to get Troy."

Evan frowned. "Who ARE you?"

"I'm Troy's father," the man said, as though Evan had asked an obvious question. "And I'm not here to visit. Get Troy!"

"What is your name?" Evan asked calmly.

The man's irritation revealed itself immediately. "Roy Morgan. Now get Troy."

"Well, Roy Morgan, be advised that you are on my property, and if you expect to continue to occupy space on it, you'll find some manners or you can take yourself OFF my property! Allow me to state the obvious - which oddly seems to have escaped you: I call the shots here, not you. Nobody comes to my door making demands."

"I'm here to take my son home. Get him."

A hard gleam arose in Evan's eyes. "You mean the son you kicked out?" he asked in an accusatory tone. "You mean the home you threw him out of - in the middle of the night 'without any provision for his health, well-being, or safety'? That's legal language, in case you didn't notice. The son you reviled with hateful names? I'll tell you right now - if he doesn't want to accompany you, he's staying here. He's not going to be subjected to that cruel behavior any more."

Roy looked scornfully at Evan, eyeing him from head to toe. "A pip squeak like you is going to keep me from taking my son? What have you got - a black belt in karate?"

"No, I have a black belt in Rodney Hampton."

A look of irritation and confusion flashed across Roy's face. "What's a Rodney Hampton?"

"The chief of police and the grateful father of a former student."

"I suppose he's a fag too."

Evan's eyebrows rose. "I'll tell you what, Ro-o-o-o-y, since you seem to think everybody else's sexual orientation is your business, I'll give you his address. You charge right up to him, get in HIS face, and ask him what you just asked me. You might want to have the number of a bail bondsman on you before you go there."

Roy looked like he was ready to pop his cork. "I'll go to the school board about you. Get you tossed out on your ass."

"I'll give you the phone number of the president of the school board. While you're calling her - "

"'Her'? A woman?" Roy remonstrated.

"You have a problem with that?" Evan studied the man. "What a foolish question," Evan observed, tossing his head. "It must be the company that's just brought itself to my door. Of course you have a problem with a woman as president of the school board. . . . Anyway, while you're calling her, I'll call the Division of Family Services hotline and tell them about your irresponsible treatment of your son and the slurs you've used against your son and against me. It is mandated by law that any allegation be investigated. Your behavior is so marked with ignorance you probably didn't know this city has an anti-hate ordinance. Using slurs against people as you just have lays the groundwork for being charged with a hate crime if you are arrested for violating other pertinent laws - disturbing the peace, harassment, assault, battery, those kinds of illegal behaviors. Besides, I have an impeccable reputation - you don't. The word is out about how you treated your son."

"Nothing will happen to me!"

"Your reputation will be sullied even more. All the kids at Troy's school will hear about this. They already know you kicked him out in the middle of the night. Many have told their parents. It has rippled out from there. Eventually, it will filter into your workplace within the hearing of your employer and supervisors and circle of friends. Are you beginning to see the ramifications of your rash behavior?"

Evan felt a presence behind him and a hand being placed on his shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze. He looked back to see Troy standing beside him, his eyes hardening as he looked out the door at his father. Jeremy stood next to Troy with an arm over his shoulder. "Dad, what are you doing here?" Troy asked with some attitude.

"Get your things. You're coming home - NOW!"

"NO!" Troy replied just as emphatically.

Roy looked surprised. "Do as I tell you. You're coming home."

"I'm not coming home to listen to your stupid talk, calling me names, giving me the cold shoulder. Besides, today at school little brother Drew told me what's really going on. Right in front of the family this morning, Mom told you that if you didn't get me back home, your butt was going to be the next one out the door." Evan turned to look at Troy, his eyebrows raised as though saying, "Do tell!" Then he turned toward Roy, the same look on his face, accented with a sassy grin, adding to Roy's irritation.

Troy continued, "She said she'd file for divorce and ask for custody of us boys. She also told everyone, including you, that she wasn't going to hear one more nasty name used by the men in her family, names like those you have called me and slung around here this evening. And she told you that she was making the decisions from now on because she was tired of your overbearing attitude. If you could kick me out, then you'd lost any sense of value or justice. She would see to it that the other boys didn't grow up with your bad habits."

Troy was panting from his rapid-fire response and heightened emotions. "So you didn't come here because you care anything at all about me." Evan suddenly glimpsed the depths of Troy's pain at being rejected so demonstrably by Roy. "You've discovered that your wife has a temper, and she'll use it against you if you don't shape up. And she's got the standing to do it. Given all that, do you think I'm going home just to save your sorry ass after you threw me out? That would be stupid! This is my home now. Not that you'd care, but I'm treated with love and respect here."

A light suddenly gleamed in Roy's eyes. "You'll hurt your mother if you don't come home with me. What did she do to deserve such hurt?"

Troy snorted out a short laugh, expressing contempt. "Good try. It won't work, you hypocrite. How do you explain away the hurt you've caused her, the hurt she felt when you announced that you'd kicked me out because I'm a homo without giving her a chance to weigh in on your decision or even listen to my version of what happened? I'll call Mom tomorrow. We'll have a talk, but I'm not going with you now. You've kicked me out for the last time in your life. Oh, by the way, you don't need to come to any more of my basketball games. You're not pumping up your ego at my expense ever again. You need to leave now."

Roy muttered something under his breath. Evan smiled, recalling his prediction that the next time Troy's father braced him about something, Troy would come right back at him. Roy's days of domineering Troy were definitely over.

Looking at Evan, Roy asked, "So you're going to support him, provide all his needs? Because he's not getting a dime from me."

"We've worked out an arrangement," Troy responded. Evan remained silent, staring back at Roy as though he'd just won the lottery. He wanted Troy to feel the flush of independence and control, of standing his ground with Roy, even backing him down when he was out of line. That would be especially important if Troy decided to return home at some point.

Roy was shifting his weight from one foot to another as though he was about to turn tail and run. "Yeah, I'll just bet. How many times does he have to service you?" he asked, looking at Evan.

Evan's eyes turned steely. "One more instance of that kind of talk and I'm calling the police first and my lawyer second. You will not come to my home and talk that way to me or anyone else here. You clearly didn't hear a thing your wife said. I've had it, Mr. Morgan. Your behavior exceeds any obligations of hospitality. Leave now! And get some help. You're obsessed with sex, especially others' sexual orientation. And you're a control freak."

Roy looked at Troy. "Don't think about college. This spells the end of it for you."

Troy responded with heat: "Whatever my freedom costs, I'll pay it, especially if it means I don't have you messing up my life again. Besides, we've talked about that here too. Don't hold your breath, waiting to see me flop. I'm working hard on my studies to bring my GPA up and on basketball to compete for a scholarship. Coach Hernandez will be a big help there. In a year, I'll have been accepted at some university."

Roy stood looking at all of them. Twice he started to say something, then closed his mouth. He spun around and charged off to his car, parked at the curb.

Evan shut and locked the door. Turning, he threw his arms around Troy. Jeremy pulled Troy around into a three-way hug. "Are you going to be okay?" Evan asked.

"Yeah. Let's all go get something to drink and then we'll talk." He led the way to the kitchen with Jeremy behind and Evan bringing up the rear.

"You guys go sit in the family room," Jeremy directed. "I'll bring us some orange juice."

When they'd all settled in the comfortable family room, Jeremy asked Troy, "Is there anything we need to do for you now, Troy?"

"Naw. I'm going to call Susan in a bit. I'm okay, really." But Evan and Jeremy, trading glances, knew Troy was upset. It's not easy to read off a boorish oaf, especially if he's your father. "I wish I didn't have to leave Mom hanging like this, but I want us to have a sit-down, just the two of us, nothing over the phone. May I ask her over here to talk, Evan?"

"You know you can, Troy. This is your home now. And we have enough space that we can give the two of you privacy. Just let us know when."

Troy chuckled ruefully. "I remember when we brought you here, Jeremy, homeless. And when we left, you had a home and a plan for college. I never imagined that I'd be in the same situation in just a few months' time."

"You're not going to allow what just transpired at the front door to diminish your sense of yourself, are you, Troy?" Evan asked.

"No. I'm a little surprised . . . I feel pumped. I don't feel bad at all. I wish none of it had happened, but I realize now that it had been moving to that point all along. After Susan and I ran into Drew today and he gave us the family news, I knew my dad would make some kind of grandstand play. He's the kind of man whose image depends on a lot of people accepting HIS values. He'll be cast adrift when he discovers that the majority considers his values outdated and bigoted. But I was happy that Mom came out of hiding. If she's feeling like me, she's pumped too."

The next morning Dave Hernandez, the head basketball coach, was sitting at his desk during his office hour, studying statistics from the last two games. The team had clicked like crazy. Dave realized during the warm-up before the first game that these boys were going to meld into a better team than they had ever been. He didn't know whether it was Troy's apology during the spirit rally, the team's refusal to accept his offer to step down as captain, or Troy's leadership, but he knew that Troy, backed by Cody, was the catalyst. Dave was determined to grasp the shape of the team's new dynamics so that he could help them build on it to become champions. He smiled, remembering Evan Bradley's challenge to do just that. It excited him, knowing he could lead the team into one of the best experiences they would ever have in their lives. For him, nothing had been headier in life than being part of a finely tuned team. He wondered if it was that way for all coaches.

He looked out the window, wondering if his fellow teachers felt pumped the way he did when they could lead and coach their students into new achievements. They HAD to feel the same way. Immediately, Evan's face floated across his mind's screen. Yeah, one time he might have hated to admit it, but he knew Evan had made a major contribution to Troy's playing so well. When he heard at the beginning of the school year that Troy was going to be in Evan's English class, he knew that it would be a triumph or a disaster for Troy. Evan showed Troy he could think, and think intelligently. He remembered Troy's shining eyes as he described how Evan had taken him back to when he was a child, trying to lob the basketball up to the hoop - all as a means of discovering how he had already learned to recognize and transcend challenges. Since then he heard several times each month from Troy about an incident when Evan had taught Troy how to use his mind to achieve better results or to step to new levels of leadership. And Susan was doing the same for him.

Dave felt a little envious as he looked back on his schooling. Most of it was tedious, rote learning, relieved only by sports. As a result, even in college he'd always been afraid that he wasn't a good student, a good thinker. Where would HE be now if he'd had someone like Evan as a teacher? Of course, he might have ignored Evan. He had a feeling though that Evan would have pushed and pushed until they were nose to nose with Evan guilting him into fulfilling his potential. He was smiling at the thought of it.

Oh, Dave had been popular with his high school teachers, but only because he was the star jock - and a good one at that. They let him get by with no effort at all. No one warned him about the lifelong lack of self-confidence he would pay as a price. It made him think they really didn't care about him at all. Until recently,he'd felt uncomfortable around his colleagues in this school. He was always reserved around Evan and other teachers who were regarded as super smart. He was even apprehensive around Ron Hamilton, who had been a star jock too. But he was damned smart as well - one could tell if he listened to him in a conversation. He'd stayed away from Evan because he was afraid Evan would instantly recognize that he wasn't a brain. When he'd confronted Evan after the spirit rally, Evan had chided him and challenged him at the same time to take his team to new heights. Dave grinned, suddenly realizing that Evan had made him believe more in himself just as he had done with Troy. Evan would never have delivered the challenge if he didn't think Dave could meet it. Probably made the challenge less gently than with Troy because Dave knew he'd pissed Evan off. The ringing phone jerked him out of his reverie. "Coach Hernandez."

"Coach, it's Roy Morgan. Congratulations on your victory against Wayland High last week. That was a monster win."

"Thank you, but you should congratulate the team, especially your son and his clone, Cody Saxon." Dave heard a "hurrumph" on the other end of the line, making his brow wrinkle.

"I'm calling to alert you to a problem that may interfere with your team's play in the future and a winning record for you. I know it's interfering with Troy's game. I guess you know Troy moved out of our home and into Evan Halsey's place."

Dave wondered what con job Roy was pulling. He knew from several years of being a coach when he was being courted for some plot by parents or alums. He'd learned the hard way to nip it in the bud, or it would haunt him in the future. After Troy started varsity basketball, Roy had struck up a friendship with Dave. In no time at all, Dave realized that the friendship was phony - merely a ploy allowing Roy to tell Dave how he really ought to be coaching Troy and the team - all in the name of a concerned friend, of course. "Roy, the talk here at school is that you kicked Troy out in the middle of the night without any concern for where he was going to sleep or eat. Many people would regard that as unfatherly behavior on your part. Evan was kind enough to give him shelter. If anything, Troy has been playing better ball in the last couple of weeks. He was staying with the Halseys during that time."

"I didn't have any other choice."

"What did Troy do that left you no choice?" Dave asked, barely masking his skepticism.

"I overheard him talking to someone on the phone. Troy's a fag." Dave winced not just because of the epithet but because of the issue and what it disclosed about Troy's father. To underline his point, he used a formal address: "Mr. Morgan, I have to tell you now that I won't listen to any more of that name-calling. It's not condoned at this school, and even the school board has endorsed its prohibition. We are in the second year of a program to increase tolerance for diversity in our school community and all the others in the city. I have to tell you at the same time that I can't believe you're talking about your own son this way. He's a great kid, a good student, a strong athlete, a genuine leader. I'd take him as my son in a second."

"I'd like to get him back home. Then we could straighten out this misunderstanding," Roy spoke heartily, "get him back on the straight and narrow." Dave frowned. He could just imagine the kind of "straightening out" that would be waiting for Troy. That would more likely interfere with Troy's play.

"So have you gone to talk to Troy?"

"I tried last night. Halsey wouldn't let me. Threatened me."

Dave's eyebrows shot up, registering skepticism. "How did he do that?"

Dave heard nothing, thinking that Roy was quickly manufacturing cover for what really happened. He must have thought he had only to allege it and Dave would believe it, whole cloth.

"Why wouldn't he run me off? He's a queer! That's why Troy moved in with Halsey and his 'new' kid. Both of them are queer. If what I hear is correct, the Halsey kid has a little boyfriend."

"That's nobody's business."

"It is if my son is involved."

"That boat won't float, Mr. Morgan. You kicked your son out. Stirring up trouble will first raise issues about your role in Troy's situation in ways you won't welcome. And you ought to be more judicious about slinging around accusations like that about Evan, Jeremy, and Kenny. It's irresponsible. How would you like a raging pack of parents and Evan and their lawyers pouncing on you? These are well-connected people. They have clout, and they know how to use it. I'll also warn you that you won't get anywhere running Evan Halsey into the ground. The man has the respect of everyone in this school and a lot of parents in this city whose children learned well from him. It sounds as though you discovered last night that Evan can be a scrapper. But if you have issues about any teacher in this school, you should talk to our principal, Kate Williams." Dave grinned, thinking about what a confrontation that would be, wishing he could be a fly on the wall.

"Another woman," Roy spat out hatefully. "They don't know their places."

"She's a fine professional and leader, Roy. I respect her."

"You friends with Halsey too?"

"No. I'd be happy to be a friend of Evan's. I'm pleased to be a colleague of his."

"I should have known the way you coach that you'd take up with the weaklings - women and queers."

"As for my being a coach, Mr. Morgan, I am and you're not. Troy came to me in the past about your trying to become his basketball coach, bullying him to play your style of ball. If anyone is going to interfere with Troy's game, it's you, trying to relive your youth through your son. I was going to talk to you about it back then, but Troy said he'd take care of it. If what was reported to me is true, and I believe it is, he did just that. If you were a coach and behaved as you are now and encouraged young men to play the way you want, you'd be fired."

"Your school must be full of homos and fag-lovers."

Mr. Morgan, I'm hanging up. I told you I'm not going to listen to that language." And Dave did. He sat thinking about the downright cussed meanness he'd just heard. He tapped his pencil on his desk blotter. He arose. He'd better warn Kate Williams what might show up at her door. As he walked down the hall to the main foyer and office, he decided he'd better warn Evan that Roy Morgan was trying to drum up trouble. Then maybe he'd better have a talk with Troy.

At noon, Evan was eating quietly in his classroom, reading an essay on postmodernism when he was distracted by someone knocking on the frame of the door. Looking up, Evan saw Dave Hernandez. "Mind if I interrupt you?" Dave asked.

"Not at all. Come in and have a seat," Evan invited warmly, laying his book aside.

Dave settled into a desk, lacing the fingers of his hands together on the top of the desk. "Has Roy Morgan come by to see you?"

"Last night," Evan said.

"Did Troy leave with him?"

"He refused. With his father, Troy has finally found his voice."

Dave shook his head in understanding. "Troy's dad called me today, trying to enlist my help in getting Troy away from you."

"AWAY from me? I can imagine the kinds of things he alleged," Evan commented.

"Yeah, he was heavy into hate. But when he called Troy and then you and Jeremy the first name, I cut him off. Told him I didn't listen to that kind of talk, and if he valued his future, he wouldn't sling accusations like that around. I told him I wouldn't stand for him to use that kind of language against Troy. He claimed Troy's ball- playing skills are declining because of your influence. I told him my observations indicated just the opposite." He grinned. "I told him that if he remained concerned, he should talk to the principal, Kate Williams. He snorted out something like, 'A woman? She doesn't know her place.'"

"You dangerous Dawg," Evan charged, grinning widely. "He didn't know you had just helped him lower his head onto the chopping block."

Dave arose. "Thanks for giving Troy a home, Evan. He's feeling good about himself now. You can see it in his bearing and in his play and leadership. I appreciate your contribution. Let me know if you need any support."

"I appreciate that, Dave. I shall. And I extend the same offer to you," Evan said, as Dave leaned forward and held out his hand, briefly shaking Evan's before turning back to the door.

Later that evening, Evan looked up the number of the Francini residence. When Mrs. Francini answered the phone, Evan asked to speak to Tony.

"Whom may I say is calling?" she asked.

"Evan Halsey. I'm Tony's English teacher."

"Oh, Mr. Halsey, of course. I'll get Tony."

Evan knew Mrs. Francini must be entertaining at least five questions about why Tony's English teacher was calling at night. He hoped Tony wouldn't receive a grilling because of it.

"Hey, Mr. Halsey. What's up?"

"Tony, I was wondering if you would stop by my classroom after you have lunch tomorrow? I'd like to talk to you."

"Okay. But don't bring lunch. I'll take care of it if we can eat in our classroom."

"Oh . . .," Evan's mind was churning. "I don't want to put you to any trouble, Tony. You don't need to do that."

"I know. I want to do it. I know you don't eat a big lunch. We'll have gazpacho and bread sticks. Okay?" he pushed.

"Well . . . hey . . . okay. I love gazpacho. But how will you get it to school?"

"Don't worry about it. I'll have someone bring it over from the restaurant. See you in class," Tony said, hanging up.

'Hm-m-m-m,' Evan thought. 'He certainly hung up fast. I hope he's okay.'

The next day at noon, Evan had continued reading the long essay on postmodernism and contemporary literary theory that he'd put aside when Dave Hernandez dropped by the previous noon. Gradually, he realized Tony was standing in the door to the classroom without announcing his presence. He was taller than Evan, his head crowned by a mound of unruly black curls that made him look adorable. His thick black eyebrows lent his dark eyes intensity. His long narrow nose had a slight Roman bump, announcing his heritage, complementing his high cheekbones. His olive complexion harmonized nicely with lips that curved like Cupid's bow, marked by a natural blush. He had wide but not broad shoulders, a slim, sinewy frame that would entice but not intimidate. He would catch many women's and men's eyes. "Tony, come in."

Tony walked into the classroom, appearing very much a strong male in control, carrying a picnic hamper. "Hi, Mr. Halsey. "Thank you for seeing me. For eating lunch with me."

"You're bringing gazpacho from Francini's VERY Italian Restaurant. I should be thanking you!" Evan responded with pleasure. Tony snickered.

Setting the hamper down, Tony walked up to Evan, grasping him in a hard hug. "I'm sorry I let out personal information about you at Jeremy's reception." Tony stepped back. "My dad would be steamed at me if he knew I did that. He taught me that the customer is always right even if he's wrong and that we're kind of like bartenders: we keep quiet about diners' guests. I broke that rule."

"Tony, it's okay. We're past it. It's a new day. Let's just move on as we've always been."

"Dad asked me why we hadn't seen you at the restaurant in a while. You were staying away because you didn't trust me any more, did you?"

Evan studied Tony, trying to fashion a positive response. He started rubbing one palm against the other as he replied. "I just needed a little time to get past that moment at the reception."

"I hurt your feelings, right?"

"I guess."

"You thought I didn't care about you."

Evan just shook his head in the affirmative. Evan admired Tony's accurate analytical abilities. He'd obviously spent a lot of time analyzing the situation. He looked at Evan for the longest time, causing Evan to wonder if there was anything else he should say to set their relationship back on track.

Suddenly, Tony wheeled about, walking to the hamper. "Here, let me serve this. Then we can talk," Tony said. Very much the classic host at an inn, Tony commanded, "Sit, please." Evan did as he was told. He studied Tony as he unpacked the food and table service, and napkins, ladled out the cold gazpacho, and set out bread sticks in a basket.

Evan tasted the cold soup. "Um-m-m-m-m. I love gazpacho, but I've never had it at your restaurant. This is wonderful!"

"Of course," Tony answered. Evan laughed. "I thought if I brought some 'VERY Italian Francini' food, you might come back to the restaurant."

"Well, after this treat, I shall have to return for more."

Tony smiled. They ate in companionable silence. All of a sudden, Tony blurted out, "I wish I were gay so that I could show you how sincere I am about not meaning to embarrass you at the reception."

Evan paused in his attack on the delicious soup. "What an odd comment. Why do you have to be gay to convince me you're sincere?"

"Mr. Halsey, I know you're gay. If I could do those things to you, then you'd know how important you are to me, how sorry I am"

"Tony," Evan said with a slight degree of exasperation, "you don't have to be gay to convince me that what you say is sincere. Do I have to be straight to convince you of how much I value you?"

Tony studied Evan dispassionately. "No."

"Then you don't have to be gay to convince me."

Tony paused. "Why are you so touchy about some things?"

Evan placed his soupspoon in the bowl quietly, looking out the windows, thinking. After awhile, Tony wondered if Evan's mind had jumped off into another dimension. "Fear of losing" was Evan's reply, uttered so softly that, if no one heard it, it wouldn't be true.

"You don't have anything to lose with me," Tony replied.

Evan glanced at him and then away. "Losing your esteem, good will, approval."

"I didn't think you cared about anyone's approval."

"With special people I do."

"But you can't go through life without losing sometimes. It's the breaks."

"All I know is that when I lose, I never get back," Evan uttered, a bitter edge to his voice. "I'm poorer. Sometimes when I look at my life, it's a history of loss."

"You're life looks terrific to me. What makes you think you lose more than anybody else?" Tony asked, his question hinting of his old impertinence.

"If my life looks terrific to you, it's only because you don't have to live it, relentless second after relentless second. You see only the surface. Every time I think I've escaped the pattern, it kicks me in the ass. It was back there all the time. I just didn't see it. I hate not seeing what's coming. As for what makes me different from others, I can't answer. I wish I could. I hate these circumstances." Evan paused a moment, studying Tony. "What happened with Tim Minor is happening again with Ron Hamilton and me."

"What is it about you that you think caused this trouble?" Tony quizzed.

Evan thought for a bit. "You certainly are making me define my thoughts and feelings more precisely." Tony grinned. "I'm so afraid that someone will look at me finally, irrevocably, deeply, and find me not worth the effort," Evan concluded. "It happened with my father, wife, and Tim Minor. I think it's happening with Rom . . . maybe some others."

Tony looked at Evan for the longest time. "So that's why losing is such a big deal with you. If you lose someone, you think it proves you weren't worth the effort. . . .I don't know how to help. I understand what you're saying, but I can't even imagine it. Angela and I don't have that problem. Maybe we will someday, but I hope not. So I have no answers for you. If I came to you with this problem, what answer would you give me?"

Evan thought for a while. "You should never reveal your total vulnerability except to someone whom, you've established, loves you completely."

"You're thinking of Tim Minor," Tony spoke matter-of-factly. "But you could mean letting me see you with Tim and Ron at our restaurant. You thought you were important to me, but when I popped off in front of the guys, you felt betrayed, which left you feeling hurt. I understand now." Tony thought a bit. "What you just told me about Mr. Hamilton and you was making yourself vulnerable to me. Is that because you think I love you?"

Evan went back to his soup, blushing, feeling that Tony's asking the question was its own answer. Tony stared at him before observing, "I think sometimes you wish I was gay."

Evan averted his gaze, not answering.

"I think it's more than just my body you want," Tony added hastily, as though appeasing Evan for the implications in what he'd just said.

Evan lay his spoon down, continuing to stare at the floor. "Even if I were gay," Tony continued, "you'd want more than a roll in the hay. You'd want me to love you."

Silence.

"Why?" Tony quizzed.

Silence.

"Is that why you froze me out?"

Evan pursed his lips, then emitted a little sigh.

"Why would you want my love?" Tony pressed.

"You're wonderful, exciting," Evan replied quietly, not looking at Tony.

"What's wonderful about me?" Tony responded.

"Everything. Your quick wit, your sense of humor. Your mischievousness. Your caring, sometimes your taking control. Your certitude. Your strength, your appearance, your potential. If Tony Francini likes someone, that person feels as though he or she is valued beyond the Pearl of Great Price. You don't know how awesome it feels when Tony Francini demonstrates that he cares for someone. Angela is a lucky woman!"

Tony sat studying Evan for a bit. Then he arose, replacing the dishes and utensils in the picnic hamper. Evan watched him, wondering what was running through his head.

When he had packed all away, Tony grabbed the hamper and started walking out of the room. "Tony . . . ," Evan said. Tony continued walking away, never turning around, but he waved his hand in farewell. Evan's head dropped, for he felt that he'd failed at something. He didn't know that he would have felt better if, instead of seeing the back of Tony's head, he'd seen the smile being born on Tony's face. It grew as Tony walked out the door and down the hall.

Evan was confused. What had just happened? Were he and Tony any better off than they'd been before? . . . He didn't think so. Had he lost Tony? . . . Felt a lot like that. Tim. Ron. Roy Morgan. Now Tony. He wasn't piling up successes in interacting with people. 'You're looking exclusively at the negative,' that interior voice warned. 'You'll dig a hole for yourself if you don't look at those with whom you are succeeding too.' Evan didn't return to his essay; instead, he riveted his attention on the scene outside. He saw Byron Okata walking to the front entrance holding the hand of a cute young woman. He thought her name was Sherry Westbrook. Well maybe something was going right for Byron. He hoped so. He could stand to see at least one person be successful in affairs of the heart.

Angela's parents being out of town, Tony spent that night in her bed. He made unusually passionate love to her. He made certain their foreplay was long and hot. In fact, Angela climaxed the first time during the process, making Tony feel like a sexual giant. When he sank his fat six inches into her wet, warm, silky vagina, she immediately had another orgasm. Tony worked tirelessly to drive her to orgasm after orgasm - multi-orgasmic madness! Once or twice, he found himself trying to imagine what it would be like to have Evan under him, to be in control of him, driving him to a passionate orgasm, using his dick and body and mouth to show Evan how much he meant to him. It didn't give him any answers. At least he wasn't revolted by the idea.

After he had climaxed, basked in the afterglow, he finally rolled onto his back. Leaning on an elbow, running her palm over the sweat- soaked wiry muscles in the smooth chest and stomach of her hunky boyfriend, Angela observed, "You were magnificent, Stud. I don't know what's gotten into you. So commanding, so forceful, so caring! Sort of like you were trying to prove what a stud you are. You never have to prove that to me, but I'm going to encourage you to apologize to Evan more often." Tony didn't react for a long while. Eventually, he smiled.

"So how did it go?" she asked.

Tony looked over at her. "Kind of weird."

Her head cocked to the side cutely. "Why weird? Did you apologize?"

"Yeah. But then we got into this intense discussion. Maybe I started it when I said if I were gay, I could convince him how sincere I was in my apology. He told me I didn't have to be gay to convince him. Since we were speaking frankly, I asked why he was so touchy about some things." Angela's eyes widened. "He said he was afraid of losing my approval. I said he didn't act like he needed people's approval. He said he 'was touchy' with some people because they are special. I told him I thought he had a terrific life. Then he got into this discussion about how his greatest fear is losing. He told me he and Ron Hamilton are on the outs maybe. Then he said something about never making yourself vulnerable to people unless you know they love you. I realized he'd made himself vulnerable to me. Was it because he thought I loved him?"

"Well," Angela replied, "there's a difference between loving someone and being in love with someone."

"I love Evan. I wonder if he wants me to be in love with him? I can't be. I'm in love with you. I don't think I'm complicated enough to be in love with more than one person at a time."

Angela smiled. "Well, I like the sound of that. Go on. Tell me more about what you two talked about."

Tony thought for about half a minute, trying to remember their discussion. "He said he wanted my approval. When I asked why, he said I was wonderful. I asked him how I was wonderful. He rattled off all these reasons, so I knew he'd thought about what he liked about me before then. It almost knocked me off my feet, Angela. Except for you and occasionally Mom and Dad, no one has talked to me that way, made me see good things in me. I really wished I'd had some answers for him on the Ron thing. But I didn't. I'm not gay. I was disappointed in me. So I packed the hamper and left."

"How did you leave it with him?"

Tony looked puzzled. "I just told you - I didn't have any answers."

"You didn't just walk out?"

"Yeah. . . . I waved good-by. What's wrong with that?"

"Tony-y-y-y-y-y," she wailed.

"What?" he demanded.

"Evan spilled his guts to you. You can't just walk out without a word after that."

"I said I didn't have any answers. I didn't know what else to say."

Angela pursed her cute, kissable lips, thinking. "Do me a favor. Close your eyes and replay that scene in your head, but you be Evan and let Evan be you. Ready?"

Tony looked doubtful. "I'm not certain I can put myself in as Evan."

"Just try it."

"Okay." Tony closed his eyes. While he did as Angela asked, she rubbed her flat palm slowly, gently over his chest and abs. Gradually, she felt the muscles beneath her hand tightening. She knew it was working.

Suddenly, Tony exclaimed, "Shit! He opened his eyes: "I've done it again. . . . I'm beginning to think I don't do this relationship stuff well."

Angela smiled. "You're doing okay. You just need a little fine- tuning. So what are you going to do about this new situation with Evan?"

Robert Martin, Kenny Walters' former boyfriend and now Lisa Wemberley's beau, had been continuing his social program initiated by Evan. He still made it a goal every day to recognize at least one of those marginal students dissed, regarded with contempt, mistreated, or ignored by other students. Jonah Stedman, one of those disenfranchised students, was a veritable brain, entering senior high school two years ahead of his ordinary entrance age. Because he'd been jumped ahead of his classmates two times, his young age isolated him among the older students in senior high. To make matters worse, he was still small and thin, all gangly. Robert had teased him that, like his namesake, a whale could swallow him easily, thinking him a minnow. It taught him what an endearing giggle Jonah had. A blond mop of hair crowned his head, freckles dotted his nose, on which was perched wire-rim glasses, making him look like a little blond Harry Potter. A sweet smile graced his cute face.

Robert had watched Jonah for three days before he'd struck up a conversation. Jonah had had his head in a book the entire time. As nearly as Robert could tell, Jonah had absolutely no friends. He was always alone, arriving at school alone, walking the halls alone, sitting alone, eating alone, looking at students, if not life itself, with BIG eyes. He'd caught a couple of freshman, Benjie Waters and Tom Beardon, menacing Jonah, so he'd stepped in and ended it, admonishing the two that he expected better behavior from them in the future. He made them apologize and then shake hands with Jonah, warning them that he'd be watching them, expecting them to become heroes for Jonah and other students. He secured a promise from each one that they would adopt this new role. Jonah watched wide-eyed, looking at Robert like a lost puppy, which Robert had reached down to pet. After his rescue, Jonah had glommed onto him like a thirsty man after water.

Jonah grew on a person - even Lisa. Before long, they often included him on many of their outings, treating him as a little brother. Jonah basked in the attention, becoming livelier, exhibiting a sharp sense of humor and a loving spirit. Before long, Robert knew that Jonah was heavy into hero worship when it came to their relationship, which bothered him a little. It reminded him too much of Kenny Walters. He knew he missed the buddy side of his relationship with Kenny. Only after it was over did he realize how much it pumped his ego up to know that Kenny felt protected by him, perhaps the reason he'd thrown himself so much into his social rescue program at the high school. He wished he could return to that side of Kenny's and his relationship, but that wouldn't be possible now that Kenny had Jeremy in his life. And it wouldn't be fair to Kenny, probably. So he found satisfaction in having Jonah as his buddy.

When Robert had learned that Lisa was going to be involved with a field trip over the weekend, he'd asked Jonah to attend an action movie with him Friday afternoon after classes. Then they would hit the basketball game later that evening. Jonah had talked excitedly about the movie just a few days before. After the movie, they had emerged from the huge mall, swapping explanations of their favorite scenes in the movie. Robert had thrown his arm around Jonah, and he had his around Robert's waist. Neither thought it more than an expression of their companionship and good spirits. They hadn't really paid any attention to the five guys walking toward them from the parking lot, thinking they were friends about to hit a movie together. But the five homed in on the two locked together by their arms. Then Jonah suddenly noticed that that the five had spread themselves into a semi-circle on the sidewalk, blocking Robert and Jonah's path to their car. Jonah grabbed the back pocket of Robert's jeans, yanking Robert back while he voiced a little whimper. Robert turned to see what Jonah wanted, noticing his pale face and worried look.

"You can't go anywhere without running into a homo these days. They just stand around in public pawing each other," one of the young men on the end of the semi-circle taunted. Robert realized that this boy wasn't the leader. The thickset leader stood in the middle of the group. All the others were taking their cue from him. He was wearing boots, jeans, and a black leather jacket. He wore his black hair in a high and tight. He was stocky, all muscle, Robert thought.

Digging down within himself, Jonah found courage to respond to the taunt. "We're not homos. Robert has a girlfriend, Lisa. She's nice and beautiful."

"Oh, R-o-b-e-r-t," the leader said slowly, "so you've got regular pussy and then a pussy boy on the side." His cohorts snickered except for the one on the end who'd spoken first. He looked angrier.

Just at that moment, Jarod Paine and Valerie Cunningham had driven into the parking lot on that side of the mall. Valerie had spotted Robert and the gathering, elbowing Jarod and pointing his attention to the guys on the walk. "Jarod, that doesn't look good. Are those guys threatening Robert and his friend?"

Jarod slowed the car and glanced where Valerie was pointing. Sure enough. The guys had placed themselves directly in the path of Robert and the little fella. He'd been around enough in his early wild days that he knew words were being exchanged, heated words coming from the five hoods. He immediately stopped the car. "Babe, go inside near the theaters. See if any of our friends are there. Some of them may have had our plan of seeing a movie before the game. Bring them back out here - but easy like. We don't want to start a fight."

"Okay." Valerie opened the door and hopped out, entering the mall at a rapid walk. Jarod drove toward the group, spotting an empty parking slot nearby. He parked the car, locked it, and strode toward the group, slowing as he nearly reached them, hearing Robert explain that they weren't looking for trouble. That they had just gone to see a good action movie. Ignoring the five guys, Jarod hailed Robert, coming up behind and walking through the pack threatening Robert and Jonah. They looked hostilely at the dude walking through their midst, acting like they weren't there.

"Hey Robert! Hi ya', Man. I didn't expect to see you here. I don't think I've had a chance to talk to you since Jeremy's party. How's Lisa?" Just then they heard someone shout their names. They turned to see Jim Marbury and Gabe Hinton walking out of the mall entrance toward them, smiles on their faces. The stances of the five hoods became less settled. At the same time, Troy, Cody, Jeremy, and Kenny drove by, planning to grab a quick bite to eat at one of the many restaurants in the mall and to do a little shopping to kill time before Troy and Cody had to go to the gym to suit up. Kenny was the first to spot the group. "Oh-h-h-h-h, look! That's not good!"

"What?" Troy asked, trying to catch a glimpse at what had attracted Kenny's attention while steering the car.

"Over there," Kenny pointed. "Stop the car, Troy. Let us out. You can park and join us." Troy did as Kenny had directed. Jeremy noted with delight how Kenny had taken command of the situation. "Okay, guys. No fight though!" Troy ordered.

As the three alighted from the car, Jeremy and Kenny hustled over to stand right next to Robert and Jonah. Robert's smile was quick as he spotted Kenny, who smiled warmly back. Robert held out his hand to Jeremy, who shook it. The hoods were now swapping glances, for the tables had turned considerably. They were outnumbered. Cody came ambling up, casting an impudent look at the hoods, allowing his shoulder to nudge the leader as he walked through the toughs, walking over to stand by Jarod, Jim and Gabe, planting his feet wide apart. Just then Troy hailed, "Hey, gents! What's up?" as the heads of the five wheeled about to see who was again coming up behind them, again making their positions vulnerable. Troy walked through the five, giving them a smile. Valerie walked out of the mall entrance, walking up to Jarod, who slipped his arm around her waist, pulling her close to him.

"I think we all had the same idea - visit the mall before the basketball game," Troy said, smiling. He turned to the five, walking up to the leader. "Hello, I'm Troy Morgan. Who are you?" he asked, holding out his hand, towering over the stocky tough, who had to look up at Troy.

"Uh, Burt Graham," he answered, shaking Troy's hand. "Hey, aren't you that ball player that shot that last-minute basket a few weeks ago and beat Midvale High? Story in the paper and all that?"

"Guilty," Troy smiled. "But the real culprit is Cody over there. Cody, come over here." Cody ambled/swaggered over, looking down on Burt.

Burt held out his hand. "Burt Graham." Cody looked Burt in the eye. Then looked down at his hand. Burt's eyes flicked over to Troy as though to see if all was well. Then back to Cody, who finally grasped the proffered hand.

"Cody stole the ball with five seconds to go, drove down the court and passed off to me," Troy explained. He's the hero."

Burt's eyes were beginning to shine with worship. "Rad play, Man."

"Thanks," Cody answered, smiling coolly.

"Who are these other fellas?" Troy asked.

"Buddies of mine," Burt answered, looking to his left and right. "Meet Austin Wilson." Troy held out his hand, which Austin shook hesitantly while Troy repeated Austin's name in greeting. "Next to him is Chad Murphy, then Rex Tolliver. That sour-looking guy down there on the end is Denton Cooper." Denton wouldn't shake Troy's hand, preferring to glare at all of them, irritating Burt. "Cooper, what's wrong with you?"

"I don't like queers. I don't want to be around them."

Though he remained hacked at Denton, suspecting that he made him look like a wimpy leader, Burt turned to Troy. "Maybe you should answer that."

Troy worked hard to keep his feelings to a smile rather than the belly laugh he was holding in. For all his apparent admiration, Burt was casting a gauntlet quietly on the ground before Troy's feet.

Troy walked over, standing close to Denton, looking down on him. "Denton, what's your problem? Since you can't see anything but homos around you, I'm thinking that you're covering your true nature." Denton stared back. Troy started counting in his mind, waiting for Denton to register Troy's remark.

"Huh? . . . Hey, what are you saying about me? I'm no homo!"

"Then why are you so uptight about them? Why do you see them everywhere? Are you afraid of them?"

"I'm not afraid of anyone or anything."

"Then you'd better stop seeing gays everywhere you go. After while, your friends will find you tiresome, then boring." Troy noticed Chad and Rex swapping glances. 'Oh,' Troy thought, 'it's already happening.'

"So Chad and Rex, are you down on anyone? Maybe gays?" Troy asked, walking over to look down on them.

"No," Rex answered a little defensively.

"Chad?"

"Not really."

"Well, look at us," Troy invited, turning with his hand out, sweeping to include all those behind him. "We're all friends. Go to school together at Templeton Senior High School. We know some of our friends are gay, but we don't care. It doesn't threaten us. We're not hung up on sex." Troy snickered. "Well, we like it a lot, but we're not hung up on it." Burt and all the others grinned, Denton being the holdout. "When we're around each other and look at each other, we aren't seeing a sexual role or label. In fact, we're pretty proud of ourselves that we avoid labeling others. We just have fun, hang out together, like each other, help each other, study with each other. Life for us is good. It wouldn't be good if we spent all our time on a witch hunt, being afraid of this or that."

"I'M NOT AFRAID!" Denton remonstrated.

"Then lay off the names, Man. It isn't cool among the enlightened and the hip," Troy challenged.

Denton blushed. He turned to Burt, who'd been listening carefully to Troy. "Enough talk," Denton announced to Burt. "Let's bash some fags."

"Chill, Cooper. These guys are cool."

All but Denton looked nervously at Burt. Robert thought about future chance meetings among them all. Suddenly, he had an idea. "Jonah, tell Burt and his friends about yourself," Robert suggested, squeezing Jonah's shoulder.

Jonah scowled at Robert. "Uh . . . I'm a freshman at Templeton High School."

"You don't look old enough," Austin observed, just short of a taunt.

Jonah waited three beats. "I was jumped ahead two grades, which put me in senior high school early."

Jonah looked up at Robert, a questioning look on his face. "Go on," Robert encouraged. "Tell them about your family."

Jonah blushed. "I don't have a family. Just my mom and me. My dad ran off with a waitress when I was really little." Jonah looked slightly sideways out of the corners of his eyes, expecting to see looks of contempt or to hear giggles among the others.

Burt fixed his gaze on Jonah. "Crappy, ain't it? My dad ran off, leaving Mom with three kids."

Rex grinned. "Do they call you Brainiac?" A chuckle ran among the others since the name implied a monolith when Jonah was so slight. Jonah smiled, shaking his head in the negative.

"So what high school do you guys attend?" Troy asked Burt. The smile faded from Burt's face. After a pause, he responded with a little belligerence: "We don't. We dropped out."

The smile faded from Troy's face. "That's a shame, man." Troy knew this was not the occasion to discuss the issue. "Hey, I've got an idea. Why don't you guys come see us play tonight? We're taking on Raleigh Senior High School. Raleigh promises to give us a run for the league championship this year. It ought to be a good game."

"We might try that," Burt said.

"Then sometime maybe we can talk about school and your future," Troy added.

Burt looked wary. "Maybe."

"Hey, listen," Troy continued. "We've all got to get on about our business so that we can get to the gym on time. You okay with us now?" he asked Burt.

"Yeah, glad to meet you. We have to catch the movie Jonah saw," he said, winking at Jonah, who winked back. He captured his buddies in his sweeping glance. Nodding his head toward the mall doors. All but Denton followed, the latter glaring at the others. Burt turned around. "Denton," he barked. Still looking angry, Denton moved reluctantly toward his buddies, who were nearing the mall doors.

Evan had stumbled to the kitchen for his morning cup of coffee in just his boxers. Jeremy was once again staying overnight at Kenny's home, so Evan expected to see no one other than Troy. Evan mused that it was good that Troy had moved in; otherwise, he would probably be feeling lonely with Jeremy spending nights more often at Kenny's home. He wondered if he was going to start feeling left out. He'd returned to his bedroom to shave, shower, and dress. Upon entering the kitchen, he grabbed a container of strawberry-banana yogurt from the refrigerator. He immediately recognized that he was hearing more than one set of feet clomping up the stairs. Evan rinsed out the plastic yogurt cup and trashed it, placing his spoon in the dishwasher as Troy walked into the family room, followed by a smiling Susan and a smirking Cody. Evan's jaw dropped.

Seeing that Evan was surprised, Troy greeted him, "Hi, Evan. Did you find my note about who was staying overnight?" Evan looked wildly about the kitchen, spying a note on the kitchen table. "Oh, were you guys pulling an all-nighter for a test?"

"On the night of a basketball game? Naw," Cody laughed. "We were studying but nothing academic. If there was a test, we all passed with flying colors." Troy and he chuckled, looking into each other's eyes. Troy swung his arm around Susan and pulled her close, giving her a peck on one cheek while Cody delivered another on her other cheek. She was beaming.

Evan said softly, "Oh . . . ." Then tipping to the innuendo in Cody's disclaimer and the joint kiss, a louder "OH!" issued from his mouth. His eyes shot from one to the other of the three nervously. Then another softer "Oh," with the tone of his voice falling off. He acted as though he'd stumbled accidentally into a situation where he didn't belong. He shot out of the kitchen. He was gone, leaving a startled trio. Cody had enjoyed Evan's surprise and, possibly, discomfiture immensely. Troy looked puzzled. Susan's brow was furrowed.

Early that evening, Evan sat at the computer in the study to compose some handouts for a couple of his classes. It hadn't been a challenge to have the computer to himself: Troy was out somewhere, probably with Susan, and Jeremy was at work. It had been a strange day. He'd stayed away from people - except for Jim Belton. When he'd arrived at school earlier than usual because he'd fled his own home, he'd gone to the school basement, finding Jim in his office. Evan had tried to visit with Jim, but Jim's mind was someplace else. "Is anything wrong, Jim?" Evan asked.

"Yeah, Miles meets with Brenda and her attorney today about the settlement. I guess I'm a coward for not going, but I begged off. I knew I couldn't control my reactions if I heard bad news. I didn't want to bawl in front of anyone."

Evan just shook his head in understanding. "What time is the meeting?"

"5:30. They had to wait for Brenda to get off work."

"Is there anything I can do, Jim? How'd you like to go out for dinner this evening - my treat?"

Jim smiled wanly. "May I take a rain check, Evan? I won't be good company this evening."

Evan chided himself for jumping to what looked like an easy answer. "Of course. Rain check granted."

Jim had shut down after that, preparing himself for bad news, Evan knew. He'd not gotten back to Jim's office the rest of the day because his own mind was atumble with too many negative feelings. Somehow his failed meeting with Tony merged with the scene in his kitchen that morning and the recent nonevents with Ron and the morning's short exchange with Jim. He'd decided he was flawed for not keeping those occurrences separate in his perceptions.

Suddenly the phone rang. As soon as he heard Miles's voice, he had a premonition. "Hey, Miles. What's up?"

"Bad news, Evan. Brenda wants her share of the farm."

Evan was silent for a while. "I was afraid of that," Evan commented quietly.

"As you predicted, she needs a nest egg. She's apprehensive about how she'll survive. Right now, she doesn't have anyone in her life. It's making her feel highly vulnerable, especially financially."

"Well, I can't say I wouldn't feel the same," Evan observed.

"I offered to buy Brenda's share of the farm, offered her a good price for it, and she was all for it, very relieved. She observed that it would mean that Jim could keep his family's farm. She's a nice person. She's not out to hurt Jim. Said Jim had always done right by her. But her lawyer asked to speak to her alone. I left the room for ten minutes. When I returned, I could tell Brenda was unhappy. Her lawyer had strongly suggested that an auction might provide her more money for her share. And he's right. He was representing her well. She reluctantly agreed. So the farm has to be sold at auction. At least she looked miserable when I left them. I haven't been able to contact Jim. How should I tell him, Evan? I've been thinking I should take him out to dinner and then break the bad news. What do you think?"

"Hm-m-m-m-m, may I offer an alternative? Take him someplace where no one will be nearby. How about the farm? He will feel less vulnerable. He won't have to guard himself. I think you'll be more satisfied for that reason alone."

"I'll do it."

"Miles, let me know how Jim is after you share the news. Help me figure out what I can do to help him and you."

"I shall. I'm going to call Ron now with the bad news, enlist his help too."

(To be continued.)

I apologize for the delay in completing this chapter. For about eight weeks, I've been flying out of state almost each week on business. Not conducive to writing. It won't be quite that bad in the future. Evan