Drummer Boys

Drummer Boys By Kevin Carson

This story is about my relationship with my friend and, well, much, much more-than-a-jack-off buddy. Yes, it includes gay teen sex stuff. It's based on true experiences but some of the names and places have been changed for privacy. Hey, if this is illegal where you're at or if you're too young to be reading this, then you better not. Getting in trouble isn't cool. All rights reserved. No reproductions permitted without prior permission. Copyright 2008.

Thanks to everyone who has written to me. I really appreciate your comments/feedback and questions about this story. My email is: kc.drummerboy@yahoo.com.

Sincerely, -kevin.

Part 36.

I woke up lonely for Mark. He wasn't snuggled up behind me, spooning me! His chest wasn't pressed up against my back and his chin wasn't on my shoulder. I couldn't feel his breath on my neck or his tongue licking my ears. I couldn't reach around and feel his hard dick in my ass crack. Damn it, I was lonely!

He was across the room in a recliner, half-awake, and I was one of the lucky ones in a sleeping bag on the floor. See, all the guys slept in the same bedroom, except Eric... and who knows where he spent the night. It was kind-of crowded sleeping in that room with five guys and only two beds. What did I expect?

I wonder if anyone would have noticed if Mark and I had slept together? I should stop thinking like that, because I already know the answer: Of course they'd notice! I wouldn't have been able to keep my hands off of him! Just the thought of all that put a big smile on my morning face. I only wish I had a big kiss from Mark on my morning wood!

As I was lying there, on the floor, I realized that the Fourth of July is the half-way point of summer. In some respects, it seemed like summer would never end, even though it really had just started. It was anything but uneventful... so much had happened already, even before school was out: Mark getting sick, Townsend and the whole stealing issue, then he and I going to camp right before his tragic, untimely death. And, oh yeah, before that, the `Emily thing' and having to come out to Dad and Keith... how could I forget that? And, of course, the situation with Marcie and the booze... What the fuck??!! That was a problem.

Then, there was the fight I just had with Keith... and while maybe it wasn't quite as bad as the other things I'd had to deal with, it still haunted me. It was more about loving and trusting my brother than sex and drugs. I don't know what else could possibly happen, but I do know that a strong bond with family and friends helps get you through almost anything. Yep... family and friends.

It also dawned on me that band practice would be starting soon... and the drumline starts before everyone else. Once that happens, summer's basically over, because then school starts again and it's football season, then it's fall and Thanksgiving, then Christmas and New Year's and WOW! And somewhere in there Mark and I are going to have our anniversary!

I guess I have mixed feelings about it... summer, that is. But thank God for pictures... the reminders of things that might be forgotten someday. Pictures let you hold on to memories that could otherwise slip away. Boy, it seems, on one hand, time flies. And on the other hand, sometimes time stands still.

Overall, we had a great time at Fire Island. Eric's aunt and uncle are great, their summer house is great, the food was great, the weather was great, our friends are great, the beach was... well... it was the beach! And while Mark and I never ended up under that pier I was hoping to find, we did have a little "alone time." I said "a little." Very little!

Everyone was finally up and about, and Mark and I were in the bedroom getting dressed: swimming trunks, t-shirts and yes, sunscreen. Mark is so fucking hot in swimming trunks. He doesn't like long baggy ones or boardshorts. He likes them mid-thigh and kinda tight... not tight like those lycra shorts that cyclists wear... but definitely not baggy either! When I see him wearing those trunks, I thank God mine are rather loose-fitting, because I need the room!! Yep, Mark's hot!

Anyway, I guess there's no hiding from anyone how Mark and I feel about each other. I'm kinda-sorta getting to be OK with that. I guess some people, maybe not everyone, but some people just seem to pick up on it instantly. Like Allie and big Shir'lee for instance. And now, apparently, Matt Kramer.

Matt's not exactly a loner, and it's not that he's a tag-along or anything. In fact, I really like having him around and hanging out with him. He's not as outgoing and chatty as Scott, but he and I did talk quite a bit the other day. And he's one hell of a guitar player and a bit of a show-off on stage. But sometimes I think he's shyer than me, and he seems more comfortable with some people more than others. I guess I was one of those people, and Mark was, too.

Anyway, he innocently walked in and sat down on the bed, as Mark and I finished getting dressed. It wasn't awkward or anything. I mean, it's not like we were naked and making out... that was only a wish. By the way, I should tell you everyone was ready for the beach... except Matt had on long sleeves and jeans. What the fuck was that all about?

"Matty! How's it going, bud?" Mark asked, all chipper and friendly.

"Ahh, I dunno," he sulked. Mark and I sorta glanced at each other, perplexed by Matt's noticebly downbeat mood. "Am I ever gonna be as happy as you two?"

Wow. I didn't quite know how to respond to that. So I didn't. I felt like telling him he's not gonna be happy dressed like that, since it was gonna be, like, the hottest day of the year. But I kept my mouth shut. I like Matt too much to make fun of him, especially if he was in a "mood." I left the room and thought OK, Mark will know exactly how to handle this and what to say, but not any more than he has to. He'll help Matt with whatever is bugging him. He's a rockstar in situations like that...

As I closed the door behind me, I heard Mark ask, "Dude, what brought this on?" I figured he'd tell me sooner or later what the story is with Matt, but I had my suspicions. Whatever it is, Matt, Mark and I will always be friends. That's just how we are. We'll always be friends.

Everyone sorta did their own thing, hanging out at the beach and whatnot. Mark convinced Matt to change into his trunks, and he seemed to loosen up a little. And I gotta say Nora looked mighty fine in her little 2-piece crimson swimsuit. It wasn't a thong or a bikini... nothing too revealing. But I admit, there was a little boob action going on. And I looked! I dunno... she's just... classy. She looks good in red, the same color as the dress she wore at Christmas. Nora's hot. Mark's hotter.

We were all messing around, throwing a football and stuff, until the beach just got too crowded. By late afternoon, we'd had enough fun in the sun. I was ready to go home, and Mark agreed. But not until we took lots of pictures. In one of them, we made it look like the guys were completely buried in the sand with only our heads sticking up, and the girls were sitting behind us. Another beach-goer was kind enough to take the picture. In another one, we all threw Nora in the ocean. She was screaming like she hated it, but I know she loved it. That was fun!

Who knows? Ten years from now, we all might be in different places... out of touch with each other. Some of us will stay close, and maybe others will barely be remembered. But we'll all have the pictures of that day on the beach at Fire Island. They'll be old by then, the pictures... but when we look at them, especially the one with the guys up to our necks in the sand, we'll hear our layers of laughter, giggles and screams, over the roar of the crashing waves. A perfect group of friends, that day on the beach... the day the picture was taken.

When we got back up to the house, we rinsed off as best we could, at the outdoor shower. Still, sand was in our hair, in our ears, in our buttcracks... everywhere! We thanked Eric's aunt and uncle, they thanked us for thanking them, and insisted we make sandwiches for the road. As I was getting my stuff together, Mark whispered that he offered Matt a ride home too.

"Kev... I gotta help the kid out. I'll explain later, just... trust me."

"No problem. I like Matt, so whatever you say, it's all good."

We said our final goodbyes, and Eric and Nora walked with us to the ferry dock. The rest of them would leave on a later boat, except Jen, who was staying a few more days. I think she and Eric have hot sex. I admit to having serious visions of them fucking, making each other scream. I bet he eats her pussy first and then she sucks him off. That's what I think.

"...Mmmm... suck my big cock, Jenny. Mmm, yeahhh. I wanna eat your pussy out... Fuck me, Jenny... ride that dick... yeahhh..."

I bet that's how it goes. And I wonder if she swallows? I wonder if people wonder the same thing about Mark and me?

I didn't notice big Shir'lee as we boarded the ferry this time. Soon enough we were at the dock in Bay Shore and walked over to the Jeep. I forgot that we parked waaaay across the lot by the fence.

I kind-of mentioned that I didn't really sleep much last night, and that I'd be happy to sit in the back so I could snooze if I wanted to. That was partly true. I was also thinking that Matt might want to talk to Mark some more. Sitting in the front would make talking a bit easier for them. Well, that, and the fact that Matt's legs are so damn long! I figured he needed room to stretch out! We shuffled stuff around, throwing our bags in the back of the Jeep. Dumbass me... I wasn't really paying that much attention to what went where...

I was pretty groggy... out-of-it, I'd say. But I remember seeing the big green signs that said "I-495 West (big white arrow) -- To Queens - Via Express Lanes - Next Left - Exit Only -- Nassau County Suburbs - Use Local Lanes -- (more white arrows)." And I read it out loud, just like that. "I love those big green signs," I said.

Matt turned and looked at me like I was crazy when I did that, you know, reading the signs. Mark grinned and shook his head, saying to Matt, "Um, don't ask... it's a "Kevin" thing. He does it all the time." They kind-of snickered, but, whatever. We no sooner fully merged onto the expressway and I was asleep.

I woke up as soon as we got to the Kramer's street, about forty-five minutes later. Matt got his stuff and thanked Mark, and we exchanged "c-ya's" and left. It was nowhere near dark yet, but I was getting that sick, empty feeling inside... dry mouth... tightening in my throat... I wasn't sick of Mark... but sick from the fear that I might have to spend the night without him.

We got to my house and I was damn near in tears, at first. "Are we, umm, gonna do anything tonight?" I asked, trying not to sound desperate... too dependent.

"Haven't you had enough of me, sweetie??"

"Come on, Mark. Don't say shit like that," I joked back. "Are we gonna do something or not?? I gotta know, you know, like... I gotta make plans."

"Make plans??" he joked.

"Get real... you know what I mean. Are we gonna do anything, yes or no?"

"Sure, if you wanna! But maybe later on, OK? I gotta get home now... I haven't seen my mom in days."

I thought, yeah, right. What's this crazy talk about not seeing his mother? "Umm... sure, Mark-o... whatever you say. I get it." But then - and maybe I was overly tired - I just blurted it out, "You wanna see your mom?? Damn, dude, like... what for?? What the fuck??"

"Settle down, sweetie!" he laughed, blushing a little. Then he confessed, "OK, really, I gotta go because... you wore me out at Indian Ridge and I'm exhausted! Plus I need to take a decent shower and, umm... well, I have to go to the bathroom, like really, really bad! I mean, I gotta go!!"

"Oh come on!! Give me a break! Exhausted my ass!! Alright, we were pretty wild at Indian Ridge, I'll give you that... and yeah, I'm sorta tired too. OK, a lot tired... but we didn't do anything at Fire Island! And the shower can wait! You don't smell that bad to me! Come on, man... I'm... you know... kinda horny."

"KINDA horny???? You're ALWAYS horny, sweetie!"

"And you're not???" I teased, as I grabbed my things out of the back of the Jeep. "Come on, stay... please?????"

Mark started to back up, and hung his head out the window... "I gotta go NOW!!!"

"You are soooo full of shit, Graham!"

"That's not funny!" he smiled. "It's the truth!"

"OK, OK!! We wouldn't want you to shit your pants right here in the driveway, now would we??!!"

"I'm gonna if I don't leave - like RIGHT NOW!!! I'll call you later..." If he had to go to the bathroom, then he had to go! Nothing I could do about that except deal with it!

"WAIT WAIT WAIT!!! One more thing... were you and Matt... making fun of me before, about the signs?"

"Come here, sweetie." Mark smiled. I ran over to the window on his side of the Jeep. He gave me a quick peck on the lips. "I love you," he whispered, melting me with his smile.

I stood there, in my driveway, half laughing and half crying, watching my boy drive away. "Oh hell yeah!" I said to myself. He's the most amazing person on earth.

I was happy to see Dad when I got in the house. We hugged, then he stepped back, and with his hands on my shoulders, observed my reddened face. "Looks like you got a little sun there, I see! Forget the sunscreen?"

"Dad!! No, I didn't forget the sunscreen, duh! We just didn't need it one day, so it's all good. But we had so much fun, Dad! Wicked fun!"

"Did you just say... Wicked' fun?? I-I-I bet you had some wicked' fun!!" Dad smiled, his innuendo flying over my head.

"I mean, Indian Ridge is the shit! We really ought to go back! The Grahams go all the time. We could all go, Dad... all of us. Can we??!!"

"Sounds good to me!"

Dad and I joked a little more, and I finally admitted that Mark and I did, in fact, forget to put on sunscreen... that it never even occurred to us, because, after all, we're stupid asses. But as I was telling Dad how we met Allie and Jon and went rock climbing and all, I was looking around for my bookbag. What the fuck?? Where was it?? I had my duffle bag, the sleeping bag, the cooler and all the other gear. But Jesus Christ, how the fuck could I have misplaced my bookbag with all the booze in it?? I almost panicked.

"Wait... Dad... hold on a sec... I forgot something, I think... I gotta call Mark..."

I went out to the garage so Dad wouldn't hear the almost-panic in my voice. Fuck. He didn't answer. I said to myself, "God damn it, Mark! Wipe your ass and answer the phone! Damn!!!" I tried two more times and he still didn't pick up. So I called Matt. Thank God he answered. "Matt, it's Kevin. Look, did you accidentally take my bookbag? It was in the front seat of Mark's Jeep?"

"Umm, no, Kev. I don't have it..."

"Are you sure?? Do you remember seeing it?? Damn it, Matt, it's important..."

"No, Kev, I don't think so... I'll look around, but I'm sure I don't have it... If it turns up I'll let you know..."

"Fine," and I hung up. OK, now I was fucking for-real panic-stricken. I tried Mark's cell again. STILL no answer. Jesus holy shit! I called their house phone. No one answered that line either. I guess no one's home, and Mark's STILL on the toilet. Fuck!!!"

I called Lisa's cell, and I asked her if she could look for my bookbag in the Jeep, or maybe even in the house. "Sorry, babe. I'm not home, so I really couldn't tell ya... Calm down... you sound desperate."

"Desperate?? Lisa... you wouldn't believe... you have NO IDEA!!!"

"Well, did ya call Mark?"

"He doesn't answer... I think he's in the bathroom."

"Oh, well... he'll be in there a year! Sorry, hot stuff."

"Thanks, Lisa, you're a big help..."

I tried Mark again. The bastard still didn't pick up, so when I got his silly voice mail greeting, "Heyyyyyy... it's Marco Polo... whaddaya waaaaaaant????" I left an urgent message...

"Mark... dude... come on, I gotta talk to you. I can't find my bookbag, so hurry it up. Call me!! For Christ's sake CALL ME!!!!!"

Dad yelled out to me, "Kev... everything OK? Need anything?"

"No, Dad... I'm good..." Truth was, I couldn't stop pacing back and forth in the garage and driveway.

Then FINALLY my phone rang. It was Mark! "OK, sweetie... spill it! What's going on?"

"Oh, thank God! Have you seen my bookbag? Can you check in the Jeep??"

"Well, Jeez, sweetie, I don't even have my pants pulled up yet."

"My God, Mark, that's no excuse!!!" I could hear all kinds of background noises, including the toilet flush... then he got back on the phone.

"It's not in the house... I dunno what to tell ya sweetie."

"Come on, look in the Jeep!"

"Can't... my mom took it."

"Look, I gotta have that fucking bookbag! The minute she gets home, call me back. Better still, just get your ass over here. We gotta find that bookbag! You don't understand... I GOTTA HAVE IT!!!!!!"

"Fuck! Settle down. It's just a bookbag. You can get another one."

"No, Mark, listen to me... it's a long story, and I don't wanna get you involved. Please, help me out here, OK??"

"Did you call Matt to see if he maybe grabbed it by mistake?"

"Already called him... no luck... he doesn't have it."

"Try Nora. Maybe she saw it, you never know."

"Yeah, OK, I will. Just get here as soon as you can..." I said "love you" but I don't know if he heard me. I knew I'd have to explain this cluster-fuck to Mark sooner or later, but I was holding off as long as I could.

I went back in the house and up to my room to stew about my stupid fucking dilemma. I should have never let that fucking Marcie coerce me into taking the liquor in the first place. I'll get back at that bitch... somehow. I'm not really good at getting revenge, but I'll think of something, I swear.

I finally got a hold of Nora, and of course she hadn't seen any sign of the stupid bookbag. Five minutes later Mark called back. "Look, sweetie... My mom stopped home for like 2 seconds... It's not in the Jeep, either. Then she left again, so..."

"Aww... SHIT!! Come on, why'd she fucking take the car again???"

"Umm... because it's her's, remember??!! It's nice she lets me have it basically whenever I want it... er... whenever WE want it."

"Sorry... don't be mad at me. I just need to find that damn bookbag!"

"Not mad, sweetie, I just don't have a car. Lisa called and said you're like on the moon about this. I'm sure I could use her car, but she's not gonna be home for quite a while. I'm really sorry, sweetie."

"No problem..." Deep down I knew this wasn't Mark's fault. I just wanted him with me to deal with it. We agreed to call each other if something changed or anything new happened. And in fact, something did happen... not with Mark, but with my brother. I really hadn't seen him in the short time I'd been home, but he did something that totally shocked the shit out of me.

You know things had been cool between Keith and me ever since we had "the argument" - the one that almost became the fist fight I would have lost. And it's not like we get along perfectly 24/7 anyway. I'm sorta used to getting the cold shoulder from him once in a while. I didn't know if Dad picked up on our mutual avoidance of each other, but if he noticed, he hadn't said anything.

I was only bluffing when I said that to Keith that day, about having marijuana. Although, I did have my suspicions about him partying... drinking a little beer, smoking a joint now and then... getting high with a little help from his friends! What harm is there in that? It's not like he's on crack or some kind of hardcore drug dealer. I really didn't know that he had a bag - I was just teasing him - and I sorta can't believe he admitted it. I caught him off-guard. And I think something else must have been bothering him that day too.

So it was weird. I was walking down the hall, past Keith's room. Only his desk lamp was on.

"Kev..." my brother called out to me, quietly.

"Keith??? You talking to me???"

"Yeah... come here, Little Dude..." I was startled by his kindness.

"Yeah?? What do you want?" I asked reluctantly. "Am I allowed in here now, or what?" I might have been a bit of a smart-ass at first. My tone of voice gave it away. But I changed that after Keith seemed, I dunno, almost sorry about something, almost remorseful.

"Um, yah, come in. Did you have fun camping at Indian Ridge?"

"Uh-huh."

"Got some sun, huh?"

"Yeah, a little." I half-giggled, nervously.

"Did Mark get sunburned too?"

"Umm, yeah... some, on his face..."

"So, how was Fire Island?"

"Good."

"Was it all crowded and shit?"

"Yeah, sort-of, I guess..." I was slow to react friendly. I didn't know if I should trust Keith or what, and I wasn't taking any chances. But I had enough of the nervous chit-chat.

"Umm, I uh... well, I wanted to tell you something. I got rid of that `stuff'..."

"What `stuff'??"

"You know... the `stuff'... the weed and shit."

"Really?? You got rid of it?"

"Well, yeah, I did, I had to. You were right. I shouldn't have had it at all, at least not here in the house. This is Dad's house, and I shouldn't have had it."

"Correction: it's OUR house, the three of us... you, me and Dad. But, wow, I mean, this is major!" I was totally stunned, not only by Keith's "niceness," but also by what he was telling me. "So... what did you do?? Sell it??"

"OK, Little Dude, maybe I was giving you too much credit. I didn't sell it. I hardly qualify as a dealer. I just... got rid of it. It's gone."

"Gone??" I asked.

"Yeah... gone."

"What do you mean... gone?? Like `gone' gone??"

"Yep!! GONE!! Bye-bye!! I flushed it down the toilet."

"Well, why didn't you sell it? Wasn't it worth a lot of money?"

"Yeah, no, but that's not the point, dude. Probably the only thing worse than facing Dad, if he would have found it, would be facing the police. And getting caught with it is one thing, but getting caught selling it is even worse. Could you ever - in your right mind - imagine getting busted by the Nassau County cops?"

"WHAT??" I screamed. "Why are you asking me that, like, about the police? That freaks me out... you're scaring me, dude." I feared the worst... that Keith knew about Mark and me last winter at the library after all. But I wasn't gonna confess.

"Nothing... I'm just saying... I don't know what'd be worse... Dad or the police, that's all..."

"Trust me... the police are worse... Dad's tough, but he's a piece of cake compared to the police."

"I-I-s there something you wanna tell me?" Keith asked.

"No... no... it's just, Dad loves us... the cops don't give a shit about people or kids or who's lives they fuck up. They just like to scare people, especially guys our age."

"Yeah, but they're just doing their job, you gotta respect that."

"I do... I guess... but... I don't wanna talk about it..." Jesus, I couldn't take that conversation any further. I'd be getting in some deeeeeep shit and I just couldn't afford to let anything slip... you know... about what Mark and I went through. Flashing back to the thoughts of that night behind the library made me want to vomit. It's not funny.

"Anyway, Kev... I just wanna say I'm really sorry about the fight we had. It wasn't a good day for me, but you didn't know that. I shouldn't have been shitty to you like that. That's no excuse, and I really hate myself for acting that way. Are we cool now, bro?"

"You mean, you're OK with the whole Mark-and-me thing? You said some pretty nasty shit about us."

"I know. I just lost it, and I'm sorry."

Keith was doing a pretty good job of kissing my ass. I think he knew he'd be in big trouble if he kept on treating me shitty, so he'd played it safe by keeping his distance from me until he came to his senses. I sorta liked having the upper-hand with him for once, knowing that he could be my bitch if I wanted. But I didn't want that. All he had to do was make one wrong move. But he didn't.

So I forgave him. Yeah, his sting hurt like hell, but I guess I was sorta brutal too. He admitted he was wrong and that he lost it. He apologized. That's more than I would have done. So yeah, I forgave him. I know now that's what you have to do sometimes... forgive people. Especially when it's someone you love. It's the only way.

"Umm, look, Keith... it's all good with us. Let's just forget the whole thing ever happened. As far as I'm concerned, it's overwith."

"Thanks, Little Dude. You're awesome."

"Yeah, well if you really wanna be nice to me... I need a HUGE favor right now..."

"Oh God, like what??"

Then I got real nervous. "Well, see... I lost my bookbag, and I got something really important in it and I gotta find it and for some stupid reason I took it with me to go camping and to Fire Island but I've looked everywhere and it's nowhere and I called everyone and no one's seen it and Mark can't take me back to look for it cuz he doesn't have a car and I'm really fucked if I don't find it and..."

"HOLD ON!! Jesus! Slow down. Are you saying you want ME to take you back to Fire Island?"

"Well...??" I looked at Keith and smiled. "Uh-huh."

"So this is your payback??!" I'm gonna be your bitch, right??"

"No... no... not forever... but... could you please take me??" I really needed him to do this. "To prove I'm not taking advantage of you, I'll even give you money for gas."

"Tell me you'll buy me Chipotle and it's a deal."

"Done!!"

"Let's go!" Keith grabbed his keys and we left. Just like that!

On the way back out to Bay Shore, I wondered how the FUCK I get myself into these situations. I'd let it go and forget about it, except my name is on that bag and if someone finds it, with the liquor in it, I'm dead meat.

"OK, Keith... just get me to the parking lot at the ferry dock. Turn here, I think."

"So, Kev... what's in that damn bag, anyway? Did you rob a bank or something? Or is someone's head in it, or what??? This is nuts!"

"You're not funny." I was on a serious mission to find that god-damned bag. Keith drove slowly around and around the still-crowded lot as I looked and looked...

"See anything??" he asked.

"No... no...! Wait!! Go slow... Wait!! STOP!! Stay here!" The lot was dimly lit, and we were by that fence where we had parked earlier. I walked up and down and all around looking for the bookbag. I was praying for a miracle... and guess what?? My prayer was answered. "FINALLY!!!" I shouted! "Woo hoo!!! I found it!!!" I got back in the car and I was shaking."

"Happy now?? After all that..."

"One of us must have tossed it out of the Jeep by accident... I'm lucky!" I breathed a sigh of relief, still shaking more than ever and sweating like a pig, too. "We were moving all our stuff around to make room because we gave Matty Kramer a ride, and, Jesus, I guess it was my own fault... hell, I dunno. I'm surprised it's still here and no one took it."

I was one lucky bastard. I unzipped the bag, holding it tightly on my lap. All the god-damned bottles were still inside the bag, just like they were from day one, virtually untouched.

"You gonna explain now???"

"Yeah, I will. But we can go now..." I sorta felt like the weight of the world was off my shoulders. Tears of joy began to drip down my cheeks.

Keith drove carefully, but kinda fast, and I didn't even notice the big green signs this time around.

"Keith... Um, thanks. Really, thanks. If we hadn't sorta made up, I don't know what I would have done tonight, about this."

"No problem. This is what big brothers are for."

He put on some music, I don't even know what... I wasn't listening. I think I was in a trance the entire ride on the Long Island Expressway back towards home. Keith must have sensed I needed time to think about whatever. He might not have known exactly what was going on inside my head but he knew enough to let me sort it out by myself. And I did sort it out.

I know my brother did the right thing getting rid of the marijuana. And I had to do the right thing with the liquor. Why was I carrying it around all over Long Island in my stupid bookbag? Why did I put Mark at risk by having it in his mother's car the whole time? What if the bottles had been broken? What if we had gotten into an accident? What if I had given it to Allie and Jon, and they drank too much and something bad happened to them? What if I'd shared it with our friends at Fire Island and something went wrong? We're all underage. Jesus, what was I thinking???

And more important than all of that, I felt ashamed that I let that fucking bitch Marcie give me the stuff in the first place. Shit! Why'd I do that? Why didn't I stand up to her? Why didn't I tell Dad? Why??

I decided what I was gonna do.

"We just gotta go one more place. Turn left on Glen Oak... then right on Bolton Avenue."

"That's the Lamson's street... what the fuck??"

"Stop about four houses before theirs and let me out. When I call you, drive around the block and pick me up on Wilmington. I'm gonna cut through the backyards..."

"Little Dude... what's going on??"

"Just do what I said, or there's no Chipotle. I shouldn't be too long. Now pull over..."

My heart was racing. My hands were sweaty. And - surprise - I had to pee. So I walked fast up the neighbor's driveway and hopped the picket fence by the rose bushes. I knew the door of the potting shed was locked, but the window wasn't! I tried to be as fast and quiet as I possibly could. You know, I didn't need any lights on or dogs barking.

I climbed in the window and carefully put all the bottles of liquor back up on the shelf where they were the other day... right where Marcie got them. That's where they belong as far as I'm concerned. Obviously Marcie wouldn't agree, but that's her problem. She tried to make it MY problem.

I like Mr. Lamson. And now I feel bad for Mrs. Lamson. Marcie's just... dirty. Yeah, I shouldn't have taken the shit from her at all. But I did. I should have told Dad. But I didn't. I guess I did the best I could at the time, but what do I know? And maybe I should have confronted Marcie tonight... gave her back the booze, right to her face. But this is how I chose to handle it... indirect and a little sneaky... but now it's done. I don't exactly feel good about it, but I feel better.

I called Keith and met him on Wilmington Boulevard.

"Are you done now, 007?" he laughed.

"Yeah. Can we go home first, before Chipotle? I wanna see Dad, and I'm dirty... I need a shower."

"Yeah, I sorta do too... no problem."

So... the booze was out of the picture... for the time being. I knew I'd have to deal with Marcie again, at some point, but thought I'd make Dad my partner first. And I thought I'd share the whole story with Mark and Keith eventually, but not that night.

Keith and I were buds and brothers once again, I guess... back to normal. We ran up the back steps, laughing about... I dunno... just stuff... silly stuff. I figured I'd call Mark a bit later. I missed him terribly, and wanted to sleep with him that night, but right then, for a while longer, I just needed to be with Dad and Keith for some reason. Really the three of us needed to be together. I think we all felt that way.

Dad's door was partly open, his room dimly lit by the lamp on his bedside table. He was sitting on the edge of the bed when we poked our heads in to say hi.

We stood in the doorway for half a second, glanced at each other, and knew it was OK to go in. We were allowed to anytime the door was open... that was the rule.

"Is everything OK Dad?" Keith wondered. "Are you alright?"

"Oh... yeah, sure... everything's fine, boys... come on in."

We sat down on the edge of the bed, too... Keith on one side of Dad, me on the other. Dad was in the middle, just like always.

"We were thinking about getting something to eat, Dad, even though it's late. Wanna go with us?" Keith asked.

"Sure... sure..." Dad answered, half-smiling, yet I could tell he was thinking about something. Whatever it was, it must have been awfully important to him.

You know, I didn't think Dad knew about the fight Keith and I had... I thought we had done a pretty good job of keeping it all a secret, but boy was I wrong. I guess he really does know everything about us. Why, in my right mind, would I have ever thought anything else? I knew an inquisition of some sort was coming sooner or later. See, my Dad has a way of always asking the right-to-the-core questions. And even though you know he's gonna ask them, they still hit you unexpectedly. "So, have you boys patched up this "thing" that's been between the two of you? Did you get it all worked out?"

Keith and I looked at each other, so surprised, sooo caught off-guard. Without even thinking about what we were saying, he and I both answered Dad at the same time:

"NO!!" Keith said, as I shouted "YES!!" We looked at each other, eyes and mouths wide-opened, and immediately reversed our answers, this time Keith saying "YES!!!" as I exclaimed "NO!!!"

We giggled, Dad and Keith and me... and it was happy laughter, all in fun, even though we were sooo busted. "I thought so!" Dad said, shaking his head, indicating our "cover-up" and responses were "normal" behavior for my brother and me.

But then, the room became calmly quiet... almost awkward, as the three of us looked at the framed snapshot that Dad had been holding, before we came in. It was an old picture of a young family... taken ten years ago on a beach in South Carolina. A perfect family of four, that day on the beach... the day the picture was taken.

As a favor, a random vacationer snapped the photo of the tanned, wet and windswept foursome... the sand, the sky and the blue-green waves of the Atlantic were the perfect backdrop. The youthful-looking man and woman in the picture both seemed barely in their early thirties. He was tall and good-looking... she was a natural blonde, bearing a striking resemblance to Naomi Watts.

You could tell just by looking at the picture that he was very much in love with the blonde, as she was with him. Their story is like a fairy tale. As kids, they had grown up side by side - she was literally the girl next door - so naturally, they were childhood enemies. But somehow... over night... they were suddenly best friends, for a guy and a girl. And when no one was looking, they became high school sweethearts... then a hot college couple, as well as classmates at Fordham Law... and then so much more. Although the man and the blonde had known each other their entire lives, they built a whole new life, together, in a whirlwind: they passed the bar, opened a small law practice together, married and got pregnant all within a year.

The blonde hardly depicted the image of a young, tough-as-nails attorney. The day the picture was taken, she was just a mom. Her loving smile beamed at the two little guys on each side of their dad, their arms around his waist. One of the boys -- in all his shyness - was trying to hide from the camera behind his father's leg. The other seemed ready for adventure, to ride the waves, or maybe hunt for sharks! Wearing matching swimming trunks, the boys looked almost identical. They could have been twins, sharing their father's straight, longish brown hair and their mother's radiant smile. And although their personalities were opposites, the only other difference between them was, the mischievous seven year old was about a half-head taller than the cautiously-quiet five year old. A perfect family of four, that day on the beach... the day the picture was taken.

(To be continued...)