Humor Me
Disclaimer: This is a story about a romantic relationship between two teenage males. If that kind of story offends you, then please do not read the following story. Also, if you are under the legal age to read stories of this type, then don't. Please do not reproduce this story without permission, since that is a copyright infringement.
Okay, I'd like to thank David for proofreading this chapter for me. That's just that little less stress I need to deal with, and I appreciate it. And I'm almost done with chapter 7, and I'm ready to kick this into gear now. Thanks to all of you for sticking along with the ride!
Comments go to dreamer@shell.monmouth.com. Feedback is always very much appreciated.
-Chapter 6-
Dani looked up from the list of missed assignments we had given her. The walls in her bedroom were festooned in pastel paint, light green, which only brightened her sudden smile. The green on the walls, the parts of them which weren't covered in posters of mythical creatures, nature scenes, star charts, and one Periodic Table, matched her eyes perfectly.
Anyone seeing Dani in this room could tell she belonged there. A while ago, Dani had given me a long discourse on the subject of residual spiritual essence. An object in someone's possession for long enough could retain someone's essence; a part of that person's spiritual and emotional being. In a subconscious way, the object would always be known as that person's Thing, even if it should change owners later on. I had joked that my brother's gym socks must have had a lot of his essence, because I was sure I'd seen them stand up on their own, unsupported. She said it was just a sign that Shane didn't know how to do his own laundry yet.
When she smiled, I had realized, finally, what she meant. Whether Dani belonged to this room, or the room was merely a physical manifestation of her personality, I wasn't sure. But, the place was definitely Hers, plain and simple.
"Duh, you guys," she chimed, leaning forward in her high-backed computer chair. Done in black leather, the chair made her seem smaller than she was. All she was missing was a white cat, and she would have looked like an ideal Bond villain. "Of course I will. I'd be honored."
Another surge of warmth ran through Mike as he sat on the floor facing her. His back was against the side of her twin bed, the comforter wrinkling around his body at the point of contact. I was to his left side, nestled in the crook of his arm, which was around my shoulders. The fingers of his right hand swam lazily back and forth across my stomach. The rasp of his skin against the fabric of my shirt was what kept me awake, even as the motion threatened to pull me down into a deep slumber.
The warmth from Mike meant that he was happy. He normally hid his emotions behind his jokes, so I had spent the last two weeks learning how to read him through that barrier, by other methods: movements, body heat, and the look in his eyes. Knowing he was happy was a simple thing; the warmth meant that his blood was rushing, which meant his heart was beating faster, meaning he was happy or excited. I prided myself on learning to understand him more, while at the same time I scolded myself for over-examining things like that. He's happy, I thought to myself. Just accept it for what it is.
It had been difficult to unlearn old habits of mine in the last two weeks. Mike and I had gotten back together, and we promised each other to take things slowly. Each of us had our own reasons for it: I, for one, had almost no clue of what I was doing, and Mike...well, he hadn't told me yet. After the argument I started the last time I pried into his past, I was in no hurry to push him. I would not put us through that hell again.
So, no pushing, no prying, for either of us, and no loss of patience on my part. I had been doing fine, so far. I wasn't reading anything into the things Mike had said, nor was I worrying over things. Maybe Dani was right about me being a Water child, since I was going with the flow rather nicely, lately.
Most of the time, anyway.
"You two are taking this way too seriously," I said. With Mike's arm around my shoulder, I did not feel like moving. I was still ready to fall asleep, again, so I wasn't feeling very confrontational at the moment. The three of us had had enough of that over the last few weeks to last us until college, easily. "I mean, come on. It's not like we're going to pay you, Dani."
I could hear the chuckle forming in Mike's chest before it passed his lips. "It 'is' serious, Jo," he said. Damn pet names. Well, it could have been the other things he calls me behind closed doors. I should count myself lucky. "It's a very important step in our relationship. I've never had this before."
"See, Jonas," Dani chided, a few red-gold curls bouncing as she nodded. "It's important to him. It will be to you, too."
"I'm aware of that," I replied. "But I don't see it being as serious as you two do. What are we going to do, call in a priest?" I raised a hand, in benediction, intoning, "Do you, Jonas and Michael, take Danielle Watkins to be your lawfully bound Fag Hag, to follow you around, to be catty with, and to help you pick out your clothes for ever and ever or until Elijah Wood walks into your lives?"
Dani hid her giggles behind her hand, mumbling something as Mike sighed. "I really need to find out what your fixation with religion is, someday," he said, giving me a quick hug. "And Elijah? Damn, you can do better. I'm hurt."
I shrugged. "You have better eyes," I said quickly. Not that I was lying, but...hell, there was still a part of me that was afraid of saying the wrong thing again. "As for Dani...well, I guess we do owe it to her."
"Hell yes we do, peasant," Mike returned, kissing me on the nose. "Yon brave witch-knight should be rewarded, for defending mine prized princeling in battle."
My eyes narrowed, just so. "Peasant and princeling in the same breath. I'm starting to sound like a hunting bird."
"No," Dani said, dryly. "That would be me."
"So falcons wear steel-toed boots?"
"Only when needed, little man."
"Hey," I snapped, sitting up straight, breaking out of Mike's embrace. Just as quickly, his hand was on my shoulder, clenching there. "I...well, I am short. Just...stop."
Dani just shook her head. "You are still way too thin-skinned, hon."
Mike nodded, pulling me back. "She...well, she 'did' mean it. But don't take it too personally." I leaned my head back, as Mike started to stroke my hair. "How am I supposed to take it? I really thought I could take care of myself. I mean, I could have dealt with it."
Dani's eyes widened, as she paled. "No, Jonas. I know how you deal with things. Or how you 'did'. Did you really want that?"
Mike stiffened. "What's she talking about, Jonas?"
"I'll explain it later," I said, and prayed he never brought it up again. Damn Dani, there was some stuff I was trying to get away from. "But yeah, Dani did do something nice..."
"Nice nothing," she snapped. "I'm suspended because of you two."
""I know," Mike said. "And we owe you, big time."
In retrospect, the reaction of the Weathering School to a certain guy-on-guy kiss in their hallways wasn't all that bad. Mike and I weren't punished, and with the school being private, but not parochial, there were no religious issues to deal with.
A couple of days after Mike and I got back together in a very public fashion, we had been called to the office during First Period Comp Sci. We sat outside the Mr. Blake's office, sparing glances at each other as we both expected the worst. Mike's hand slipped between us on the bench where we were sitting, and laid it over my own hand in the gentlest of squeezes.
"Don't worry," he said, even though his voice was shaking yet. "We'll be okay."
As it turned out, we were. We were greeted in the Principal's Office, by Mr. Blake, the Principal in question, and a Mr. "Call me Kevin, please," Stanton, Weathering's Guidance Counselor. Mr. Stan-er, Kevin probably had the only job I would never, ever envy. With the amount of problems the kids at Weathering had, I could only imagine what his blood pressure levels must be, not to mention the secrets he knows. I'd talked to him often, especially after I first came to the school. So, he knew that I was the substitute for him, after school was over for the day.
And here I was, adding to the mix. One more personal difficulty for the horde he already had. But, as I said, that turned out not to be the case. Mr. Blake and Kevin calmly told us that they knew. That I wouldn't deny, because that kiss was a public one. I stammered a bit, a reflex in my brain trying to explain it away to the adults. I stopped once Mike took my hand again, between the single chairs we were sitting in.
After that, they asked if we had any problems at home. With this, Mike and I emphatically stated that our respective families knew about this, and were all right with it. And there were no problems with the other students, either. A bunch of questions, sure, and I admitted that I felt like a zoo exhibit sometimes with the way some of the other kids looked at us, but none of them had started anything, so I really wasn't bothered by it. For the moment, things seemed to be going okay.
The two men nodded, and admitted they were concerned about how Mike and I were adjusting to this. Kevin handed us a few pamphlets, for later reference. Granted, they weren't the usual preachy type of self-help drivel like "So, you're immune to women!" or "Pillow-biting and You!" The papers Kevin gave us were a few simple rundowns of local centers for Gays and Lesbians, along with a few ads for social events.
Mike smiled as he saw some of them, explaining that he'd been to a few of them. I just flipped through the papers, thanking Kevin. I never really thought about being to events like this, or socializing in general. Who knows? Maybe I'd enjoy myself for a change.
That was one of the more fortunate incidents. Others were less so.
For example, there was the reason Mike and I were in Dani's room that afternoon, delivering missed homework assignments. Not our best moment, no.
About a week or so after Mike and I kissed at school, (which myself, Mike, and some of the more accepting kids referred to as our Zero Hour jokingly.( It almost feels like things started from that point.), I had been having a good day.
Not that Mike and I being together was the only thing that had made everything all right. My grades and attention had been up, and I was getting around socially. I started talking to people again, my family included. Small steps, I promised myself, and I was getting better at it. I doubt it was all because I was gay, but, especially with my family, being honest with them had helped the relationship between my mom, my brother, and myself. I...had my family back.
Between classes at Weathering, the students had a ten minute time window to get to their next class. I never really asked why, since the campus wasn't all that big. Maybe it was a decision on the part of the administration to implement that rule, so that their students would socialize more.
However, they forgot something. In any school, in any nation in the world, High School Students will be, now and forever, High School Students.
Between second period Trig and third period European History, I needed to move all of two rooms over. So, I used the time to relax and shake off whatever sleep I was still carrying with me. Also, since Mike usually passed this way for Psych class, we had a little time together. Dani had Trig after I did, so we usually did some chatting and plan-making for later. It was a small pocket of burden-less happiness in any given school day, and I admit I looked forward to it. Mike had to head up from the first floor, while Dani had to ransack her locker for the books she'd need for the next few periods. Since my classroom was right there, I took my History book with me and didn't have a lot of travel time.
By the stairwell on the second floor, a large bay window was positioned to let in more sunlight and make the school look brighter than it was. I sat in the well with my back against the wall, watching the doors to the stairwell open and close to let students in and out. I took off the chain Mike gave me, and let it dangle from my fingers. The sunlight glinted off the silver links, as my eyes washed along the center of it; the rainbow-colored links.
I knew what the colors meant; Gay pride. Easy to say, but harder to really understand. It wasn't a matter of waking up, realizing you're gay, and just being okay with it. In the last month, some things in my live had changed drastically, and I still wasn't used to it. I had spent some nights trying not to look ahead in my life, and wonder about the things I now couldn't have, because of this. No kids, for one, along with a host of things legal, spiritual, and otherwise.
But, I really had no choice in the matter. This is the hand I was dealt, and so I would play with it. Not being alone in that respect helped.
I tried not to let 'that' bug me, either. I wasn't some weak co-dependent who was nothing without a relationship. I mean, I had lasted sixteen-and-a-half years without one, and making my relationship to one other person be the central focus of my sense of self-worth is definitely not a healthy option, for me or Michael. Hell, whenever we were together, he stressed the concept of each of us standing on our own two feet; two whole people joining, instead of two half-people. He was very specific on that point.
However, that didn't stop him from doing nice things. Just that morning, I opened my locker to find a single red rose hanging from a string inside my locker, suspended just under the bulb. Attached was a small printed note: We'll be together, always.
While, without Mike as my boyfriend, I could probably handle life on my own, it was little things like the rose, those little day-brighteners, that made me happy that he 'was' in my life. I waited, ready to thank for the impromptu present.
"Christ, would you stop showing off already," a female voice sighed, annoyed, to my left. "You like boys. We 'know'."
I turned away from the window to see Sandy standing there. Sandy, while she called me all the time with problems with yet another boyfriend she had that week, was not someone I really considered a close friend. She basically used me as a sounding board: someone to brag to about her latest conquest. From what she told me, she was one of those real `in-crowd'; types at her old high school. Cheerleader, Student Council, and apparently she had the brains to go with it.
She was alone, this time. High-schoolers being themselves, she was normally accompanied by a pack of wanna-bes that copied her every move. Sic any horror movie on me, if you want, but watching her and the Sandy-ettes walking in formation down the hall would always terrify me more than any slasher flick.
Petite, blond, blue-eyed in that All-American Girl' sort of way, she was wearing a pair of slim blue-jeans with a plain yellow T-shirt, with her hair pulled back into a ponytail, secured by a scrunchy. Her appearance was one of those practiced' ones: Just the right amount of makeup, just the right clothes, just the right look, and pretty much the right everything.
I wondered if I was jealous for all of about two seconds before I realized that any disdain I had for her was because she was superficial to the point of being a cartoon character.
"What," I asked.
"You heard me," Sandy retorted, taking an oh-so-regal step forward, away from the doors. "Everyone knows you're gay already, Jonas. Stop flaunting it."
I swung my legs around, hopping off the wall in a quick motion. For once, she definitely had my curiosity. "I'm flaunting?"
Sandy nodded, indignant. "I see it all the time. That chain around your neck," she said, as I felt a short surge of satisfaction that someone finally didn't refer to it as a collar. "And you and Mike don't make it that much of a secret."
"That's true," I replied, as the doors behind Sandy opened to let out a few more students, rushing to class. "With the way news travels around here, pretty much everyone knows. I'm not going to deny it."
"Exactly," she said, taking another step forward as a small group shuffled past to go downstairs. "So stop, already."
"Stop what?"
Her face scrunched, looking like she just bit into a pickle. I heard about six very appropriate, and very tasteless, comments whisper themselves in my mind as I remembered the stories she had unloaded on me before. "Just..." she stammered. "Like, anything. I mean, the kissing. That's sick."
I snorted, despite myself. Hearing this from a girl who was well known for her public displays of affection with whatever guy she was going out with. Let me put it this way: people have openly considered using locks of Sandy's hair in place of mistletoe at Christmas parties. I had finally seen what she was getting at, now. Oh, is it this game, then? Fine, bitch. Bring it on!
"I don't get what you mean," I finally said, reaching back around my neck to refasten the chain, and sliding it over my index finger before letting it fall, audibly. Sandy's eyes flashed with even more irritation. Perfect. "Seeing people kiss bothers you, or does kissing bug you in general?"
The left side of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile, as I chuckled inwardly. She knew what I was doing. "Nice try," she muttered. "Guys kissing guys? It's just not natural."
"It's not the usual fare, I admit," I said with a shrug. I leaned against the wall, and used my body to press my hands against the wall, with the warmth from the concrete seeping into my palms.
"It's not usual at all," Sandy snapped. "It's wrong."
"Wait a sec," I said, cutting her off before she could spit out any more crap. My hands slowly balled into fists, the knuckles digging into the small of my back. "Mike and I are going out. We like each other. It happens." I felt my heart rate double, my field of vision narrowing to focus on her. "It has nothing to do with you, and it's basically none of your fucking business. I don't see why my personal life has your panties in a bunch." And for her panties to be in a bunch and 'not' be around her ankles, for once, was a feat in itself.
"The hell it is. Dammit, Jonas, you were normal before he changed you." Sandy flashed me a look of disgust. "And who's to stop you two from going after other guys?"
Hearing that, I knew what was about to happen. I hadn't declared Verbal War on someone in a while. With Shane away at college, the thrill just wasn't there any more. Now...now was a different story. Being around Mike and his constant ribbing had taught me to keep myself on my toes a lot more often than I used to be. By now I was starting to get a few good jokes in on Mike, which was an excellent step forward. I could almost hear the snikt inside my head as I decided to cut loose with what wits I had. And if you know what that word means, you have an idea of what happens next.
"That's what this is about," I asked, trying to keep steady, leaning back to crush my fists against the wall. "You think that just because Mike and I are gay, that we're going to go after every guy we can?" I shook my head. "What the hell makes you think that?"
"And what's to stop you from converting and fucking every boy you come across?"
I felt the smile twist my lips upward without any conscious effort. "Ah. You have a problem with competition, when you put it that way. Or...were you looking to add me and Mike to your extensive headboard notch-count?"
Sandy snorted. "I'd have welcomed either of you with open arms."
"The open 'arms' aren't what I'm afraid of," I shot back. "Remember, I do know where you've been. God only knows what's swimming around in there."
Sandy stalked another step forward, as I fought down the urge to do something far worse. Running away now would make her think she won, but I had to keep myself under control. "Fear," she asked, as her eyes wandered down my body, stopping at my crotch. "Small organist?" she added with a sneer.
"Probably," I answered, off-handedly, as my eyes mocked her gesture: drawing down her body until I glanced at where her genetalia would be. "But he's terrified of playing in cathedrals."
Sandy's eyes went wide as her anger took over. "You listen to me, you smart-mouthed little faggot-"
"No!" I said, stepping up to her. My knuckles were probably bone-white from having my fists clenched so tight. Control, Kowalczyk, I thought to myself. Keep your cool. There's a better way. "You listen to me ,you sperm-guzzling gutter slut," I snarled, as her mouth dropped open, speechless. "What I do with my life, and who I do it with, if none of your damn business. You don't like that I like guys? Tough!. You don't like the kissing, then you can kiss my ass for all I give a shit about what you think. You want to stand around and be a sanctimonious, filthy, disease-ridden, one-dimensional little skank who uses up her men faster than she uses up her tampons, that's fine. But, Sandy, you will never," I said, pausing as I dropped each word like a boulder onto some hapless coyote. "Never. Ever. Judge. Me. Bitch."
Sandy stood there, stunned, looking like a deer in headlights that was about to be smacked by a pickup truck. In that moment, I regretted being too young to yet have my driver's license. The mix of shock, anger, and indignation was too good not to remember. "I..." she sputtered. "I never-"
"Bullshit!" I said, close to shouting as I snapped again. I wanted to scream, as I felt the rage well up from my toes. I wanted to release all the anger, all the fear, and all the uncertainty. My eyes narrowed again, to slits, and made it look as if Sandy and I were the only two things in existence. "You have. Again and again. You've told me most of it, you Two-Dollar whore."
"How dare you," Sandy grunted as she made use of the time I took to breathe again. "You, who probably turned gay when you realized no girl would date you." She smirked, superiority evident. "Or maybe you did; that little freak Dani you're with. What was it, Jonas? Was she a lousy lay, or did she have a bigger dick-"
She never finished that sentence. Having your head yanked back by someone grabbing your ponytail and yanking it from behind. Sandy's head went back like a Pez dispenser as she let out a gasp.
So intent were Sandy and I on each other, neither of us noticed Dani come up from behind.
With a snap of Dani's arm, Sandy was torn away from me and thrown to the floor, landing with no grace whatsoever. Dani shot me a quick `you okay?' glance, before she turned and leapt at the other girl, looking like a short, red-headed angel of death, and spat a word at Sandy, one that's derogatory towards women, that even I was loath to say out loud.
One of the major aspects of the Wiccan faith is a focus on nature: Nature as a Mother, provider, and nurturer for growth. On the other side of the coin, sometimes Nature can be a cold, cruel, vengeful merciless bitch.
And, in some situations, so could Dani.
God, how I love her.
It's a known fact: fights act like lodestones for kids in schools. It seems like after the first few punches were thrown, a crowd materialized out of thin air, as if it had always been there, just waiting for someone to throw a punch.
I scrambled through the small crowd, towards the stairwell doors just as Mike opened them. He smiled at me for a moment before his eyebrows jumped up. His arm slid around my shoulders as he headed towards the circle, taking me with him.
"Whoa, fight!" he called, and nearly choked as he caught a brief glimpse of just who was in the circle of students. "Oh, shit," he muttered. "Jo, who's she fighting?"
"Sandy."
"Daaaamn," he said, shaking his head. "Why?"
I turned to him with a wry smile. "She has a bigger dick than I do."
Confused, Mike just blinked. "Okay, that made no sense." He was going to ask to me explain it when there were a few muffled cries of pain from inside the circle, accented by the hollow snap of metal against linoleum tile. "The hell is that?"
I sighed. "I think Dani went for the steel-toed boots this morning."
"Ow."
"Pretty much, yeah."
I watched through the slowly growing press of bodies, and silently cheered Dani on, Mike was more vocal than I was, with his rooting, saying such pleasant things like `Break your fingernails off in her ass!'
I leaned in further under his arm. It wasn't like anyone was looking at us, and damn, did I need a hug. Dani, later on, never blamed me for the fight, and I still thank her for that. Even that absolution, however, never removed all of the guilt, even if it was only a week's suspension for both of the girls.
Mike looked away from the combat, since he noticed my movement. "Hey," he said, squeezing my shoulders with his arm as he planted yet another kiss on the top of my head. I was starting to count that as my one advantage to being short. "You all right?"
I nodded. "Yeah," I whispered, which went unheard by the crowd of fight enthusiasts. "I was just thinking."
"That would explain the beads of sweat. What about?"
"Well, there's two girls fighting, right here. It doesn't do a thing for me."
I could almost see the laugh start in Mike's chest and force its way up his throat. He squinted as he tried to hold it in, and his cheeks puffed up as his shoulders shook, which made him look like a thieving hamster. When he finally let go, laughing, he ruffled my hair with his free hand. "Me, neither," he admitted. "And...part of me is really happy you said that."
I smirked, reaching around to pat him on the butt. The yelp of surprise on his part alone was worth it. "You're welcome."
The whole incident with Sandy was one of the negative parts of the fallout after Mike and I went inadvertently public. With the first few days, especially after bring called to Principal Blake's office, I was feeling oh, so paranoid. I enjoyed being with Mike, and not having to hide it. But still, sometimes the looks of other students would linger on us too long. Not that we were being openly gawked at, but the surreptitious stares were starting to make me uncomfortable.
When I confided in Mike, one day, about feeling like we should be in a zoo with a `Gay Teen' sign hanging from the bars, he just laughed. "That's a fun idea," he started, gripping me by the shoulders, "but no. Listen. Wherever you go, when you're with me, people are going to stare at the unfamiliar. And don't lie, Jonas. So do you. You might as well get used to it; the stares, the questions, all of it. It'll cool down once the unfamiliar becomes the familiar."
Well, that didn't really end my feelings of being a museum exhibit, like "Homo Eroticus" or something, but it did give me some insight into it. What if, by Mike and I existing, and together on top of that, the other students just saw that as routine? What if we were desensitizing others about homosexuals in general, until we were seen as a couple,' and not the gay couple?' And what if it had an effect on how they dealt with people that were different later on, after high school? It's likely that some of their children could be gay, and what if they were so used to it by that point, that they didn't hate their children for being what they are?
Thinking on that, one morning as I settled into my seat for Comp Sci, I decided to let people look all they wanted. Not that I was going to put on a show for them, but maybe a little gradual change would be good all around. I figured I'd ask Mike if that was what me meant, as I opened the foil-wrapped candy, distracted.
I had opened my locker that morning to find a pair of Hershey's Kisses, both wrapped in red foil, along with another small note. "Miss You." Was the message. Short, sweet, and to the point. I had snacked on the first one on the way to class, and unwrapped the second at my computer. "Hey," said a voice to my right.
"Yo, Dan," I replied, turning to the side to give him a smile. Dan Cohen always came across to me as someone who was as normal as one could get at Weathering' he always looked to just be breezing through school, going through the usual rituals of parties and girls while balancing schoolwork. I'd seen him get a little intense during Finals, but then again everyone did.
He ran a hand through straight, mousy brown hair, sinking into his chair as he flipped the power switch to his computer. "S'up?"
I shrugged, showing him the small piece of chocolate in my hand. "Just..." I said, then pursed my lips as embarrassment started to creep up on me again. I wondered if Mike meant for the little presents to be just between us, like the rose from before. I reminded myself again to thank him for that as well. "A little pick-me-up," I finished, apologetic.
"Cool," Cohen said, chuckling at my discomfort. "Didn't mean to upset you, man. Sorry."
"No, no," I said, and shook my head. "It wasn't anything you did. I..." I trailed off, looked at him, and shrugged.
There was a hint of laughter in his features, especially those dark green eyes. "I get it," he said. "Personal stuff." He turned in his chair, leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. "I was wondering," he said. "How are...like, things?"
I swallowed the candy, my mouth opening a little as I started to understand what he was asking. "Oh," I said, with a short chuckle, "things are good. My brother's almost done with finals, so he should be home in about two weeks. Mike's...well, you know Mike."
Cohen nodded. "I do," he said. "So, anyone around here giving you any shit? About you being with him?"
I shook my head again. "After Sandy, nope," I replied. "Maybe they're all afraid of Dani," I added with a laugh.
"Hell, I am," Cohen said, snickering. "Remind me to never piss her off."
"It wasn't as fierce as rumor made it out to be." I said. At that point, Ms. Samuels walked in, Mike right ahead of her, getting in just before the teacher did. Had she gotten inside first, his grade for the day would have been a zero automatically, no matter what kind of work he did. A little harsh on the teacher's part, but it did keep us in line.
Cohen and I turned to watch Mike as he sat down. Cohen just chuckled, shaking his head as I mumbled, "One last cigarette before class, huh?"
He just looked at me, and smiled wordlessly as any thoughts were driven out my head as Ms. Samuels started class.
*** By the second month in our relationship, anything that anyone had to say had been said, and Mike and I got through it relatively unscathed. I, for one, had started to find a pattern to work my life into, since some sort of organization tended to give me that safe feeling.
So, by Murphy's Law, it seemed that the rest of the world was hell-bent on pushing the boundaries of that idyllic little paradise I built for myself inside my head. Shane had actually learned how to use e-mail, and spent a lot of his free time sending me dirty jokes, and links to nude sites. You can take the brother out of the cave...
I was happily explaining this to Mike as we headed down the hall, going over plans for that weekend. Mike was into the idea of me crashing at his house Saturday and just renting movies. "Okay," I said. "I'll raise you to three movies, and a ton of all-night snuggles."
Mike raised an eyebrow at me. "The snuggling goes without saying. What did you think, we were going to sit on opposite sides of the room all night?"
I felt myself turn red. I started to get mad at myself again. I was not a child! I was sick of getting embarrassed over every little sweet thing he did. Damn, I thought to myself. I really need help.
"No. Of course not. I-"
"There you are!"
Her voice was pleasant, overall, having a light musical quality to it. The identity behind the voice didn't register immediately, since I could not think of anyone offhand who spoke with a slight British accent. At that point, I wanted to slam my head against the lockers, with the vain hope that it would finally knock some intelligence back into my head.
When she's asked, Lisa Driesden will cheerfully describe herself as Rubenesque. She stood about five-foot-ten, with a full figure, but still managed to appear as if she were the paragon of grace. One of the greater fallacies of human perception is that people who are overweight are clumsy. But I had seen her dance, and I would always be the first one to say that she knew how to move.
"It's easy," she'd always tell me. "If you love your body, and know it well, you can do anything you want to."
At Weathering, she seemed a little out of place, sometimes. She didn't couch the truth, and was one of the few people who was perfectly happy with who they were. I had originally met her through Dani about two years ago, since they had a shared interest in all things Pagan. Back then, Lisa wasn't really happy with who she was, but having friends seemed to help her through that.
As for why I was kicking myself again: last night, Lisa returned from England, where she had been for the last six months as an exchange student. I had completely forgotten she was coming home, and had spent most of last night on the phone with Mike, since we got into this heavy discussion of video game evolution, from Pac-Man on. And I never thought to check my voice-mail after I hung up with him, since I pretty much crashed right to sleep afterwards.
I took my eyes off of Mike to see Lisa striding towards us, clad in a white, puffy-sleeved blouse and a dark blue pleated skirt. She had let her hair, raven-colored with streaks of deep red, grow out a bit more. She had done her hair in a flat braid, about the width of my hand, which started at the back of her neck, and was draped over her right shoulder, curling over her ample breast.
"Lisa," I started, immediately going over to hug her as Mike watched. "I'm going to apologize now. I was on the phone til way late, and completely forgot you were coming home." I sighed, looking at her face. Better that I be honest about it. "So, how was merry old England?"
She pulled me into a hug. "It was fantastic. I can't wait to tell you all the fun I had," she said, flippantly, her eyes going skyward in that mock-innocent look.
At my pointed look of concern, she gave me a comforting smile. "Don't worry, Jo," she said. "I was a good girl, and didn't fall."
I didn't even try to hide the look of relief that I shot back at her. "I knew you could do it," I whispered, softly. "But, it doesn't change the fact that I forgot to call you."
She chuckled. "I got in about nine last night, and was almost dead tired. I kept getting your voice mail." She looked past me, as Mike gave her a silent, friendly wave. "And if that's the Mike I heard about, I don't blame you one bit for forgetting about me. Mrrowl!" she chimed, and waggled her eyebrows suggestively.
My head swam as all the blood suddenly decided to drain from my face. "Yeah. About that..."
"Don't worry," she said, hugging me and kissing me on the cheek before she ambled towards Mike. "I called Dani last night, and she gave me the run-down." She turned back towards me, with a twinkle of amusement on her rounded face. "It's about 'time' you figured it out, Jonas. I thought I was going to have to take drastic action." I was left dumbfounded, wondering how people could know I was gay before 'I' did, when she turned to Mike, extending her hand. "Lisa Driesden," she said, introducing herself, still with the accent. Apparently, she picked it up while living in London. Actually, it seemed to make her even more interesting than she already was. Then again, I thought anyone who could discuss comics was interesting, but she had made it into a science.
Mike took her hand by the fingertips, not clasping it in a handshake. He slowly drew it to his face. "My lady," he breathed, beaming a smile, "would that someone of your beauty has heard of someone humble like myself-"
"Humble? Who the hell are you kidding?" Oh, it was charming, but I had to say it. Humble and Mike went together like Alfredo Sauce on Spam.
"Quiet, little peasant," Mike said, giving me a look that said I'll get you for that, and made it funnier. Lisa looked back at me, mouthing Good shot.' "Unlike you, I know how to greet a lady." He took a breath, and still held Lisa's hand. "As I was saying, would that someone of your beauty has heard of someone as humble as myself," he began again, the tone in his voice daring me to interrupt him again. Later, I decided. "That is an honor in itself," he added, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. "Mike Bannon."
She sighed, over-dramatically. "Damn, Jo, you know how to pick them. Cute as a button, and twice as charming." She beamed a smile at Mike. "You honor me," she said, going along with it. "I've heard of you. Your infamy precedes you, oh he who's turned Jonas' head." She took a breath. "Thank you," she said, as I just looked on, lost. She didn't notice it as she asked, "Mike, I know you don't know me, and until now I've only heard about you from everyone else." Geez, how many people did she talk to last night? "Can I talk to you alone for a moment?" Her entire posture shifted, as if she looked slightly uncomfortable about what she wanted to say.
Mike nodded. "Sure," he said, not worried as she lead him down the hall.
"Jo, wait here," Lisa said as she started to lead Mike away. "Please?"
I nodded slowly. What was this all about? "Sure."
So, I leaned against the wall and waited. Mike and Lisa rounded one of the corners, so I couldn't even get an idea from body language of what they were talking about. But, I didn't have to wait all that long, since they came back about five minutes later.
"So," I asked, as they came back. They were all smiles, the both of them. "Have a good chat?"
"Yeah," Mike said, as if unsure of how to answer the question. It wasn't that hard of a question, and I wondered what was up. "She...uh...wanted to see us kiss.""
"Yeah!" Lisa chimed in. "I...really should have asked you. Just, I'm so happy for you, and I'd been hoping..."
I raised an eyebrow at them, making one thing obvious: I was not convinced. "That was it. You wanted to see us kiss."
"She did," Mike said, coming closer to me, and turned me to him. His smile had dropped. "And I really, really want to kiss you right now, Jonas," he said.
As I obliged him, I figured that one day, I'd get to the bottom of this, and find out what they talked about.
*** "So," I asked, pulling my legs up to sit cross-legged on the couch in Mike's basement, the loose cuffs of the pajama bottoms I was wearing, in colors of blues and reds in a cross-hatch pattern. I adjusted the collar on the plain white T-shirt I was wearing. "You and Lisa never met before the other day?"
"Nope," Mike said, finishing his can of beer, and putting it on the end table while he hit pause on the DVD for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon on his player. "Never. And I'm not going to tell you what we talked about," he added with a smile. "It was personal, okay?"
I nodded, defeated. But, all in all the night itself was going pretty well. His parents had gone east to Atlantic City for an overnight trip, leaving Mike and I in his place by ourselves. We just relaxed with movies, ordered pizza, and split a six-pack of beer between us. And, with my body weight being not all that much, I was feeling a little too cheerful, much to Mike's amusement. "Okay," I said, capitulating. "I'll back off."
He nodded, taking a pack of cigarettes, and tossing it into my lap as he fiddled with one, unlit, between his fingers. "Trust me, it wasn't anything bad," he said. "But she's cool as hell," he added. "You have some kickass friends."
I smiled. "Thanks," I said. I picked up the half-full pack in my hand, looking at it for a moment before tossing it back to him. Since I had started to be more honest with myself, things were clicking into place. "No thanks," I said. "I...don't like it."
Mike looked a little curious. "No? Didn't bother you before."
"I know. Just..well." I said, shrugging. "I never really did like cigarettes. Just...well, you offered, and I thought it would have been rude to say anything."
Mike put down his own cigarette, still unlit, and crawled over to enfold me in a hug. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.
"I didn't want you to think I was a wuss," I admitted. "I mean, even more of a wuss, after you saw me crash my bike like that."
I felt him wince. "God. Jonas, promise me something. Don't do anything because I do, okay? Don't change yourself because you think it will make someone like you. Make your own decisions, okay?"
I nodded. Why did he take stuff like that so seriously? I didn't even take it that seriously. I just didn't like it. "All right," I said, scooting closer, planting a kiss on the nape of his neck. Mike kept his sleep clothes as simple as I did, with sweats and a T-shirt. "Oh, I wanted to say something," I said, as I remembered.
"What's that?"
I smiled, a little unsteady because of the beer. It felt...fuzzy, my jaw feeling numb and tingly. "Thank you," I said.
Mike looked a little confused, again. "For what?"
"The flowers. And the candy. The stuff in my locker. It was really sweet."
Mike's face gained even more confusion. "I never put anything in your locker."
I just smiled at him. How cute! All of a sudden, I just started chuckling over the whole thing. He shook his head, trying not to laugh again. "You're drunk, aren't you?"
I sighed. "A little, I admit."
"Poor baby," he said, with his own chuckle as he hugged me again. "'Bout time you sleep it off before you start making up more stuff." He put his arm under my shoulder, and lifted me up, taking a blanket in his other hand. He gently moved me down to the floor, laying me down as he draped the blanket over us. Once there, I curled up on my side, pulling my body close as I turned to face him. "That's cute," he said. "You're like a little kid sometimes."
I snorted. "So, you going to read me a bedtime story, then?"
The silence was almost solid, after that question as he pulled me closer, stroking my hair. I was feeling sleepy already, but his joke about me being a little kid bugged me. I was starting to feel like I never did anything, and always just let him touch me. Not that I didn't like it. I liked it a lot in fact. But I was more reactive than proactive, and I had been wanting to change that, too.
My thoughts were interrupted by a single sentence from Mike. '"I was fourteen."
"Wait," I said, sitting up. As he sat up with me, I turned to him, placing my fingers under the light cotton of his T-shirt, drawing my palms up his chest as I removed it slowly, carefully, my eyes never leaving his.
"What are you doing?" he asked, lifting his arms. All the better for me to get his shirt off, my dear.
"Trust me," I said, removing the article of clothing. Placing gentle hands on his shoulders, I pushed him back down to the floor, so that he was lying on his stomach. He let out a muffled moan as I climbed atop him, my hands starting to slowly knead his shoulders.
"God, Jonas," he purred. "You have know idea how good that feels."
"You should feel what I do from this end, Mike," I answered.
"I do. Right in my lower back."
I felt my throat tighten. "Uh...sorry about that. I'm not the perfect picture of control."
"You act like I'm not doing the same thing?"
My head lifted. "Uh..."
He laughed. "Relax, Jo. But yeah, I'm liking this way too much."
I sighed, pushing my palms against the muscles in his shoulders. "Cool," I said. "So, you were saying."
There was a little more silence before Mike spoke up. "Well, when I was fourteen, and a Freshman, I figured out I liked guys. Man...I was torn up. I didn't tell anyone for months, and didn't know who to talk to." Another pause. "So, I started hanging out online, and started talking to people. You know, other gay kids, see how they dealt with it. A lot of them were very friendly about it, since they went through the same thing. But one...well, we really got to talking. All the time." He gulped, shifting under my ministering hands. "Turns out, he and I went to the same high school, but he was a Senior. We arranged to meet there, put faces to the screen names."
I was stunned, and my hand slipped off his back to thump the floor against him. This was a confession, unsolicited. Damn, this was serious shit he was talking about, if this was what I think he was getting at. "You sure you want to talk about this," I asked, starting to sober up slowly.
"Yeah. Even if your drunk ass keeps falling off me."
"Har har."
"Exactly. But, yeah. You deserve to know this," he replied, settling down. "So, we met, and it was like some dream. He was cute, funny, and older, so he knew everything. I mean, you're a freshman, you think that way." He paused. "His name was Jace."
I stopped cold. "Jace? Wait, you mean-?"
"Yep," Mike admitted. "The same one who's friends with your brother." He sighed. "Don't stop, Jonas. Your hands feel really good. But, as I was saying, we met. And we got along well enough. Really well. He didn't even have to ask, Jo. Within days, I went and gave myself to him."
I nodded. He had said he was with someone before. By that time, I had accepted it in my own head, and was all right with it. He existed before I met him, and I counted myself lucky to have him in my life. I started massaging his back again, once my muscles started working. Any beer buzz I had was pretty much gone. He needed me to be clean for this, I knew that much.
"The sex was good," he said. "I mean, I lost my virginity that fast, and fell in love even faster." Mike sighed, deeply. "No. I need to be honest. I became obsessed. Jace, after that, became the be-all and end-all of my existence. My world 'was' him, and nothing else. I followed him everywhere, even when he was trying to push me away. But I just blinded myself to it, and kept on him like a lost puppy. I...was really bad. It wasn't even love, but I was so infatuated with him, and it was unhealthy. Especially since all he wanted was a good lay." He let the silence speak for a time, as he tried to find the words. "When he said that, that it was all fun and he wasn't into love, or being my significant other, I was destroyed. Utterly. Now...when I look back, maybe what he did wasn't all that right, but I was not much better. I let my need take over my sense, and latched onto the first guy that gave me any attention. Jonas...there was one point where I did try to kill myself, because of him. I was that fucked in the head." He gulped again, shaking. "I stopped, once Jace sent one of his friends after me. Figured if I'd get beaten up, and knew it was from him, I'd finally stay away. He had this friend. Big guy, name of Shane."
I felt my stomach push against the back of my throat. "Oh...Christ. Mike, if he hurt you, I swear to God-"
"No," Mike said. "It isn't what you think. Yeah, Jace did send your brother to kick my ass. But, when Shane found me, I was outside, in back of the school, bawling my eyes out because Jace didn't love me. I was crying all the time by that point: at home, even in class, when I'd run out to go to the bathroom so no one would see me. But, your brother didn't touch me, Jo. I didn't even know you 'were' Shane's brother until I was inside your house. I never knew, since I didn't remember Shane's last name. He saw me, there, and talked to me. He told me that the hurt would stop, even if I didn't believe him. He told me why he was there, and what Jace sent him to do. But...he wouldn't do it, Jo. He said he wouldn't be some hired thug, especially after some little kid who was hurting enough." He chuckled. "You know, he told me he had a brother about my age, and that if anyone treated his brother the way I had been treated, he'd kill him in a heartbeat. Whatever you think, Jonas, your brother does love you, and he'd do anything for you. He's a good man."
I felt myself shaking. The revelation, combined with the fact that my brother knew all this, and apparently had a conscience, was getting to be too much. "Fucking A..."
"It's okay. Calm down, please." Mike pleaded with me, making sure I was relaxed before he went on. "Your brother drove me home, and told me...hell, he 'begged' me to get help. Counseling, support groups, anything. He just wanted me to get better, so I could live life again, since one rejection wouldn't kill me." He sighed. "I spoke with him once, before he graduated. I was seeing a therapist, and it was going well as I started healing inside. Jo, he smiled, and he really gave a damn. Whatever you two fight about, well, you're brothers. But he's good people."
I nodded, slowing my hands as I ground my palm into his lower back, which got a few pleased grunts from him. "I know," I said. "Mike, thank you for telling me this. It explains a lot. Like, how you treat me, and why you get so serious about some things."
"Exactly," he said. "Jonas, you're fantastic, and I want to be with you not as just a quick, loveless fuck. You're getting a lot better, but when this started, I was seeing a lot of myself, the way I was, in you, and I'd die before I continued that cycle. I had been hurt, and I didn't want anyone to suffer the way I did. I don't want you making the same mistakes I did. I want us to get this right."
I chuckled. "I get it," I said. "You've made some mistakes. We all have, at one point. So, it's just another go-round on the Time Loop for us both."
"The what?"
As I sat there, straddling him as I gave him the massage, I explained my Time Loop Theory: how we live our lives over and over again, trying to make sure we don't make mistakes, so we get our final reward."
"You know," Mike said, chuckling. "That's pretty cool. I mean, it's a good plan, and an excuse for me to make as many mistakes as possible."
I coughed, not understanding. "Say what?"
"Well, when you make a mistake, you get sent back to the start of your life when you die, right?"
"Yeah."
"And you keep getting sent back, even if it's hundreds of thousands of times, right?"
"Uh-huh."
"So," Mike said, nodding. "If I keep making mistakes, I'll keep coming back to my life," he added. "And that means I'd keep coming back to you."
I froze, as everything in my body clenched. I stopped rubbing his back, as I was overwhelmed with...damn near every emotion I've ever felt in my life. All of it, every feeling came back and crashed over me like a tidal wave. I hung my head, my breath rattling in my chest. The silence...there was nothing else, except for a pair of sounds that went spak as the tears that fell from my eyes landed against Mike's bare skin.
"Jonas," Mike said, feeling that. He twisted around, quickly, until he was out from under me, squeezing my shoulders as I started to cry. "Jonas...what's wrong? What's the matter?"
"I love you."
I didn't see his expression, since my eyes were still on the ground. "What did you say," he asked.
"You heard me," I said, trying not to sob. "You...I'm not good with this stuff, but I know this feeling. I do love you, Mike. If you think you can say stuff like that, about coming back over and over for me...you can't say that and not make me love you."
Mike nodded, and placed his fingers under my chin to lift my head. "Hey," he said. "That shouldn't make you cry, especially if you mean it."
"I do," I said. "And if you don't like it, then get over it."
He smiled, kissing me very softly on the lips, as he took his thumb and wiped my tear-stained cheeks. "And I wouldn't have said it if I didn't love you, too."
My eyes widened. Combined with the tears, everything was starting to sting. "For real?"
"For real," he said. "I'd been waiting for the right time to tell you, and I wasn't sure. Just...with Jace, that was puppy love. Immature, like I was. This goes a lot deeper. It's not a need to be touched, or a need for sex, or even to be needed. In a way, we nurture each other. We're becoming our own people, with help from each other." He took a breath, some tears in his own eyes. "I love you, Jonas."
I was lost. I was done. I was in love. For that night, while we didn't get it on, we just stayed there, not saying a word, and comforted each other until we fell asleep in each other's arms. We loved each other, and that was enough.
-End chapter 6-