Exposed

Exposed: Chapter 4

Over the next week, classes continued as normal, with the only change being James smiled on occasion and contributed to the discussions without being forced. He also began to actually socialize with his peers.

One other thing happened, Brock, Kip, and Lance ate lunch a couple of times at the outcast table so they could discuss their project with James. The outcasts were intimidated when the three jocks suddenly sat down at their table. However, as they watched James interact with them, they began to relax. Halfway through the second meeting. John Feye, a Sophomore, suddenly spoke up. "Excuse me."

"Yes John," James said.

"I know I'm not part of your group, and I'm sorry if I'm out of line, but I think what you are doing is interesting and sounds like fun. I was wondering if I could help. My father never went to college, but he owns one of the largest landscaping companies in Boston. I don't live with him, and we don't see each other that much. But I thought if he knew I was part of something like this, we would have more of a connection."

James smiled and said, "Brock here is who you need to talk to, he is in charge of volunteers." Soon, not just John, but all of the rest of the outcasts began signing up. When word began to spread about the project, other groups began to ask about joining the project.

A couple of days before the first workday, the four boys were at the library to meet with Mr. Gregg, Coach Montoya, and Walter Gracie, the school's groundskeeper.

Walter was a character, and was not the least bit shy about saying what was on his mind. James was in charge of supplies and requisitions and Walter was giving him a list of things to get when he said, "I imagine the only callus this lot of pantywaists have ever gotten is from stroking their cocks, so you'd better stock up on gloves and first aid supplies. You also might need to print out the directions for how to use a shovel and a rake."

"Come on Walter," Kip said, "Not all of us have been sheltered from hard work. I spend every summer on my grandfather's ranch in Colorado. This year, my cousin and I replaced five miles of fence." Kip showed Walter his hands, and Walter said, "Lookie there, that's an actual work callus." Kip smiled, since that was the highest praise Walter would ever give a student at Mill Brook Academy.

"So the plan on Saturday is to clean out the weeds and brush," Brock said. "Once we can see what we're working with, then James and Mr. Gregg can take pictures of what exists now and compare them with how it looked originally, and develop a plan."

"Are we going to restore it as close to the original, or are we going to update it," Kip asked.

"Mr. Gregg and I have been talking about that," James said. "We think it should keep the original atmosphere, but be updated to be something that works for today."

"Restrooms," Walter said.

"What?" Kip said.

"Restroom, it's a fair hike back to the campus, and a lot farther if you desperately need to take a shit." The guys burst into laughter.

"What did they do back then?" James asked.

Walter looked at Kip and asked, "Mr. Sander, you worked on a ranch. What do you do when there ain't a toilet nearby?"

Kip smiled and said, You find a tree and squat."

"That's right. They eventually built some outhouses. When I first started working here I had to tear them down and fill in the holes. Now you will have to figure out something new."

"We could get portable toilets," Montoya said.

"I hate those things," James said. "Can't we get something better?"

"Even if your mother is willing to pay for it, "Walter said, "Getting a construction crew back there during the Winter would be tough."

Lance had been listening and not saying much, suddenly he jumped in, "My dad works for Bradley Shipping and Logistics, they get a lot of shipping containers that are surplus or damaged. They recently started a program to convert them into tiny homes, storage buildings, backyard offices, you name it. I can talk to him about this. Maybe they could figure something out that could be built off site and delivered on a truck."

"That sounds great," James said. "Why don't you see what is possible?" Lance smiled and nodded.

The meeting was a good brainstorming session, and they were as ready for Saturday's workday as possible. Lance and Kip both had library assignments and stayed behind, so it was just James and Brock walking back to the dorm.

Between the library and the dorm was a bench, and Brock asked if they could talk.

Brock just sat quietly for a minute, then took a deep breath and started, "The other day I told Kip that I'm gay. We've been roommates for four years and I thought he deserved to hear it first, although he pretty much already knew. I haven't told anyone else, even my parents, and I don't think I'm ready to make a big coming out statement like you did."

James laughed and said, "I wasn't ready to make a big coming out statement like I did? So I won't out you. Everyone deserves the right and the respect to do that on their own terms. However, if you need someone to help you plan your sexuality reveal party, I'm your boy."

Now it was Brock's turn to laugh, but then he got serious, "I've been thinking about our conversation the other day about what I am calling our anti-friendship. It seems crazy that one little insult would make you my target for so many years. But I eventually began to realize how much that minor encounter grew into a hateful cancer."

"I think that at some level I have always known I was gay. I think that first day in class I thought, hoped you were too. I thought I had found an ally. So when you told me I was just a dumb jock to you, it hurt...it hurt really bad. Then as the years went by, as I was pushed farther and farther into the closet, I resented that you didn't care what people thought about you. You could take everything we dished out, and basically gave us, gave me, the middle finger. I wanted to hurt you for being so strong."

"Brock," James said, "I wasn't strong, I was stubborn. I couldn't admit I wanted friends. So down deep, I decided, if I didn't have friends, I would have enemies. I needed to be noticed, even if it was as a target. How pathetic is that?" James wiped away a tear, and said.

"It could be worse," Brock said. "We could be having this conversation the night before graduation, or at our twenty-year reunion."

The two sat quietly on the bench, until the chapel bell rang to signal it was time for all boys to be in their dorms. James started to get up, Brock stopped him, but then seemed to freeze, uncertain of what next. Finally, James leaned forward and kissed Brock, and then quickly got up and ran to the dorm.

Brock sat on the bench in silence. He was thrilled that James took the initiative after his own courage had failed, but why did it fail. He wanted that kiss more than anything he had wanted in a long time. He wanted it more than to be a Senior captain of the soccer team, something he had aspired to since making varsity in his Sophomore year.

The chapel bell rang a second time, and students not in their dorms by the third bell would be written up and assigned morning detention. Morning detention was a particularly vicious punishment. Students would be required to show up for breakfast at 6 a.m., showered, combed and wearing their Brookies. They would then sit silently at a table until Dean Meyers arrived and took attendance. Then and only then could anyone serving morning detention eat breakfast. They also had to wear their Brookie for the rest of the day. For athletes, that meant redressing in the Brookie after practice for supper.

On the way up to the jock floor, Brock momentarily stopped on the second floor landing. He thought about going down to James's room, but he had no idea what he expected, hoped, would happen when he got there. So, reluctantly he continued up to the third floor.

As usual, the third floor was a zoo. Guys were running around in just their underwear. Most were getting ready for bed, some were rough housing, others were frantically looking for someone who had their homework finished and would let them copy. Brock was too tired and too confused to do anything but head to his room.

When he opened the door, Kip was standing in front of the full length mirror hung on his closet door. He was flexing and wearing nothing but a jockstrap. Brock had gotten so used to it, he didn't even make a comment. Besides, now that Kip knew he was gay, there was no need to pretend it bothered him.

"Are you sure you're gay?" Kip asked.

"What are you talking about?"

"This," Kip said, as he turned to Brock and flexed. "This is some prime American beef, and you are acting like it's tofu."

"Yes Kip, you are a stud. You have the body of an ancient Greek athlete. They should immortalize you in marble."

"There, that's the sarcasm I expect."

"How long is your penis? James says he is eight inches," Brock said out of the blue.

"Whoa there. I'm not sure where this is going, but I'm not into three-ways, at least three-ways with guys."

"Stop flattering yourself, I just want to know."

"I'm six inches, which, by the way, is above average."

"That's what I told James."

"You two were talking about my cock?"

"No, that six inches is above average."

"Do you believe he is eight inches?"

"He looks like he could be."

"Wait! How far have you two gone?" Kip said suspiciously.

"We haven't done anything. I just saw him changing clothes, and he wasn't hard or anything, but...well, he could be."

"Wow, wouldn't that be ironic if the biggest cock at Mill Brook Academy belonged to a nerd, and not a jock."

"Yeah......and....we kissed."

"You kissed him!"

"Actually, he kissed me. I started to, but then I kinda froze; so he finished it."

Kip sat down next to Brock, put an arm around him, and said, "It's time for some girl talk. How was it?"

"It wasn't a big kiss," then Brock self-consciously smiled and added, "but I liked it."

"Did he like it?"

"Oh fuck! I don't know. He just ran off without saying anything. What does that mean? Was he disappointed? Am I a bad kisser? Was that a pity kiss?"

"Calm down. You're overthinking this."

"I need to go see him," Brock said and started to get up, but Kip pulled him back down.

"You are not going to go down to his room, especially all worked up."

"But I have to know. I won't get any sleep if I don't know."

"Give me your phone."

"Why do you want my phone?"

"Come on, just give it to me."

Kip started typing, and then hit send.

"Now what?" Brock asked.

"We wait."

A couple of minutes later, Brock's phone signaled an incoming message. Kip looked at it, smiled, and showed it to Brock. Kip had sent James a text that simply said, "Thanx." James' reply was a winking smiley face.

Brock threw his arms around Kip, and said, "Thank you."

"Hey now, save some of that for your boyfriend."

"Boyfriend? Do you think we are boyfriends?"

"Cool your jets, stud. Baby steps, you don't want to scare him off. ... Although, I think you are more scared of him than he is of you. Now buddy, I think we'd better get some sleep. We have a game tomorrow.

The next day, every time he looked at James, Brock smiled. Finally, James pulled him aside during study hall, and said, "Not that I mind, but if you keep smiling at me, your secret isn't going to be a secret very long."

"I just can't help it. Are you going to be at the game tonight?"

"There's a game tonight?"

"Yes, there is a game tonight. We play Moreland Academy. Tonight will probably decide the league championship."

"Well, I'll check my calendar to see if I'm free."

"Don't give me that, I know your dirty little secret."

"Oh, what's that?"

"You may hate jocks, but you like sports; well, except for football. I know you are at nearly every game."

"How do you know that?"

"When it's witch-tit cold, and only you and three or four of the geek squad are in the stands, it's hard to miss."

"First of all, we are not the geek squad. Second, we just come to watch stupid assholes run around in shorts freezing their dicks down to the size of Halloween Snickers. Plus, when you've a thermos of hot chocolate spiked with Schnapps, it ain't that cold."

"Really, you guys drink alcohol at the games?"

"If you think the jocks party, you should come to Nerdfest."

"Why haven't I heard of this Nerdfest."

"Because we have it in the library during the football team's last away game."

"You have it in the library? How?"

"Who do you think gave Mr. Gregg that bottle of twenty-year-old scotch?"

"What do you do at this Nerdfest?"

"Well, we don't run around in our jockstraps dry humping each other and pretend it isn't gay. Instead we talk, play cards, watch movies, and get drunk before going up to the library tower to smoke some weed and spout bad poetry and philosophy."

"That is a Nerdfest," Brock said dismissively, while at the same time wishing he were invited.

"Okay, jock boy, you've spent enough time talking with a nerd. Your bros will start getting suspicious."

"Not a problem," Brock said, "I'll just tell them we are working on the `Troy Project.' This project is the best cover since they invented the English group project."

"Just remember, the story about the Tortoise and the Hare, isn't about `slow and steady wins the race.' It's about a cocky asshole who thought hard reality wouldn't ever catch up with him. Now get over there and do your homework."

"Yes, master." Brock said with a smile, and walked away.

The game with Moreland Academy was tight, but Brock was a star. He and Kip carried the team, and there was no question as to why they were captains. In the end Mill Brook won 3-2, with Brock scoring all three goals with assists from Kip.

It was all James could do to maintain his facade of indifference. He wanted to jump up and down screaming Brock's name and jersey number: however, he kept the celebration to a small fist pump and a "Yes!."

When the game was over, Brock for once didn't try to rub the other team's noses in it. Instead, he got in line to shake the Moreland player's hands. When he got to their Senior captain, he said he hoped to see him next year either as a teammate or opponent in college.

After Moreland left the field, James and the rest of the nerds went back to the dorm, rather than join the rest of the fans celebrating with the team on the field.

An hour later, James was reading a History of Civilization assignment when he got a text, "House of Tears in 10." The House of Tears was a gazebo that was built as an outdoor classroom. Its real name was the Wilbur Garvey Pavilion, and was erected to honor a long serving, but mediocre literature teacher. It got the name House of Tears because Garvey was infamously boring.

The House of Tears was located in a small grove of trees on the edge of the commons and there was no sidewalk passing it that joined any of the campus facilities to the dorms. So at night, it was very private. When James arrived at the HoT, another of the building's names, he didn't see anyone and began to wonder if this was a trick, but soon he heard Brock say, "Over here."

He was sitting on a bench at the far end of the pavilion. James finally made it over to him after busting his shins a couple of times in the dark.

"We'll have to remember flashlights next time," Brock said.

"Next time?"

"Yeah, if you're too ashamed to be seen with me during the day, I figure this is how I will get to be alone with you. At least until it gets too cold."

"You played a great game," James said.

"Thanks. I looked for you after the game."

"I figured you had enough groupies mobbing you that I would save my admiration until later."

"Okay, then let's see some admiration."

James gave Brock a small punch to the shoulder and said, "Way to go, stud."

"That's it? I pull off a hat trick, and all I get is `Way to go, stud'?"

"It's not like you won the World Cup."

"Come on, you've got to give me more than..." Brock wasn't able to finish his sentence because James' lips were in the way. The two lost themselves in their first real romantic moment. When they finally broke, Brock said breathlessly, "Now, that's what I'm talking about."

There was very little conversation for the rest of the evening, until the chapel bell rang. When they finally were able break themselves from each other, Brock asked, "Am I a good kisser?"

"I'm not complaining, and have you ever heard me not find something to complain about." Then James gave Brock one last kiss and said, "We'd better get back to the dorm. The last thing I need is morning detention."

When Brock walk into the room, Kip took one looked at him and said, "You Dawg. Tell me about it."

"We kissed. We kissed a lot."

"And?" Kip said trying to get more information.

"It was good. It was better than good; it was great. Although there was one strange thing."

"What was that?"

"It was like James took charge, like he was in control."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, I like it. It's just I always imagined myself to be the one in charge. Especially if I were with someone like James."

"What do you mean by someone like James?" Kip asked.

"Well, someone who isn't a jock."

Kip grabbed both of Brock's shoulders and said, "Look at me buddy. This is supposed to be fun. If you go getting all crazy and analytical about this, you're going to fuck it up. Just accept it for what it is, and do what feels good. Do you hear me bro?"

"Yeah bro, I hear you."

"Good, now get your ass in bed. You're had a big day, and tomorrow we start the real work on the Troy project.

About five minutes after shutting off lights, Kip heard a rustling from Brock's side of the room, he smiled and thought, "Yep, you're going to sleep well tonight, my friend.

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