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This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It may contain consensual sex between young men. Do not read if you find that objectionable or if it is illegal for you to view this content for whatever the reason.
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If You Could Read My Mind
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Along the Greyhound ride from Moncton back to Charlottetown, Neville questions why he's bothering to return. It's a question he's asked himself many times over the summer, `I've completely lost touch with Crystal; she never got back before I took off on this gig. She missed my anniversary. At least I didn't celebrate it with anyone, but an improvement in Crystal's health would be a welcome gift. I have to head out to the truck stop this Sunday and find her. She's got to be alright by now and I can tell here everything! But still, why am I even bothering to come back?
I can't think that way; this is my only shot at school, and therefore any hope of a future. That's one good reason, even if it means being homeless one more year. Bailey is the other, although 10 weeks apart is 10 weeks closer to my 18th birthday when I'll be legal and can start getting my life in order. One more summer like this shitty summer and I'll have money for tuition, and even be able to afford to rent a bedroom somewhere hopefully. Then I'll be worthy of Bailey and maybe we can even go to school together and I can tell him about everything.
Yeah, I'm not even on the fence as to which gravity is pulling me harder, I know which one it should be in the bigger picture of life, but I know which one is tugging across the landscape of my heart! I can't wait to get home, get cleaned up, and sleep in my own bed for the night. All I have to do is tie those goalie pads all back together again. Then, sometime in the morning tomorrow I'll drop in on the sweet boyfriend I left behind.'
Seeing Bailey waiting for him at the bust stop coaxes a huge smile out of him and almost brings a tear to his eyes. He knows Bailey knew what day he was returning, but didn't think he'd check to see what bus and what time. It instantly warms him. He worried that the time apart would change Bailey's mind. Although clearly on the overweight side from when Neville last saw him, memories of Bailey's hands and lips are what Neville holds dear; their gentle touch and loving words. Approaching a visibly huskier Bailey than he left, Neville isn't turned on, but he's not completely turned off either. He knows that he truly loves the boy inside the body, cute ass or not.
Leaning against the family's SUV that he recently got his licence to drive, Bailey asks, "How was your summer?"
"Shitty. The ten grand is so not worth it. Make that just under 7300 after taxes, which is bullshit! They don't even have my social insurance number in the first place to claim me as an employee, so it's not like they're really paying taxes on me. Still, it's 7300 bucks, which is huge," Neville relates.
Bailey looks away from Neville's smiling eyes, "Too bad. I used to play on Smitty's uncle's boat when we were kids. It always reeked. How bad was it?"
Neville expects that they could at least hug in public, but figures Bailey thinks otherwise based on his reception so far. Instead he answers, "I know! It's vile, and the people are way worse. My first night I stepped on a used condom in the tiny little closet they have for bunks. Women work on the ship too and the crew will put on a disgusting live sex show right there for you. The fat fucks just jerk off right in front of you, and the equally ugly but thin guys seriously go at it with the toothless women pretty much anywhere and don't care who sees or hears!
And no one bathes or brushes their teeth or even wipes decently after pooping over the side of the boat, so just think about how dirty they are and how bad they smell! Then think how much more dirty the sex is and how bad it smells! I wanted to puke my brains out for ten bloody weeks!"
Making no move to help with Neville's bag or unlock the SUV, Bailey instead squints at Neville, "Good stuff. How was the work?"
Neville excitedly starts to relate his summer, "Rotating shifts, often more than 24 hours of straight work between rest because I was the newest, and even then sometimes only an hour or two of sleep here and there. Good luck getting anything to eat half the time, and I smelled and tasted like a salt lick the whole first week. Then I started to smell and taste even worse. Way worse. The whole fucking summer. I fucking hate salt water. I fucking hate lobster. I fucking hate lobster traps and their fucking netting that always need repair or detangling. I fucking hate winches and fucking rope burn and fucking splinters. I fucking hate falling out of the top fucking bunk ten times a fucking night, not that I fit into the fucking thing in the first place! And I fucking hate not bathing."
"Good, sounds like you had no fun at all," Bailey points out almost cheerily.
Not sure how to take Bailey's off comment, Neville continues, "Know why they're called sperm whales?"
"No, why," Bailey averts his eyes from Neville in a failed attempt at rolling his eyes, "One hump you when you fell overboard?"
"No. I don't know why they're called sperm whales either. I don't even care. What I do know is that they can fuck the whole ocean and everything in it for all I care though. I hate it. Your friend feels the same way. His cousins just love the ocean and they can have it for all we care. I never want to step on a boat again in my life. Even now I feel like I should be bouncing up and down and rocking back and forth," Neville exaggerates and sways from side to side for emphasis. Watching Bailey, he stops himself from going on.
Still trying to gauge Bailey's mood, he changes the subject, "That doesn't matter anyways. You're all I thought about all summer. I really missed you. All I've wanted to do for ages is to go to that ice cream shop with you and get some of that tiger-tail ice cream. So, how was your summer?"
Bailey scratches the back of his head and looks down at his feet, "It sucked balls. I was stuck doing community service and dreaming of my boyfriend who was gone for the summer. Then I had to have a one-sided break-up with him while he was at sea, when it became apparent that my sister is pregnant with his bastard child."
"Oh shit," Neville says, instantly feeling queasy. Looking at his left shoe with his big toe visible through a hole, he's lost in thought. Unaware he's still speaking aloud, he mutters, "Guess God really does hate you after all Eli."
Bailey tears his eyes away from Neville, "Well at least you don't deny it. If my parents knew it was your cheating dick that knocked Brooke up you'd be wishing you fell overboard off that fishing boat. So far I think they just figure we're both getting fat."
With trepidation Neville asks, "And uh, how about you? How are you with it?"
Bailey's voice cracks as he explains, "Crushed. I don't think you two could have done a better job at destroying my heart if you tried."
The sorrow is clear in Neville's voice too, "I'm so very sorry. I knew I had to tell you someday, I just..."
Bailey holds up his hand, "Stop. I don't even want to hear it. You've already given me every excuse possible in my mind, and none of them help. Just leave."
Neville throws his hands up in the air in guilt. Dropping them to his sides he hangs his head in defeat as he and Bailey stand feet apart with their bodies facing each other. When Neville looks back up, they can't look each other in the eyes so they both stare distantly over their own left shoulders. Neville smacks his closed fist against his forehead a few times, revealing an ugly gash on the underside of his forearm that hurts Bailey to see.
Finally breaking the silence, he quietly apologises, "You're mad. You have every right to be, just know that I'm sorry. I always tried to tell you that I didn't deserve you; that you deserve better than me."
Bailey finally makes a move to get into the SUV, making it clear to Neville that he's leaving the bus station alone, "You're fucking kidding me, right? Wow, that's ballsy. You admit you got my sister pregnant with your brat when I was head over heels in love with you, and you have the nerve to pull out an I-told-you-so? Get the fuck out of here! I wish I could tell you you're dead to me but I can't, can I? I wish you were never in my life for what you did to me, but now I can't ever get you out of my life for good. No, you're in my life forever now, one way or another because you'll always be the birth-father to my soon-to-be niece or nephew. But just keep the fuck away from me, okay? You better go now, I'm leaving without you. Hope I don't see you around."
Neville stands in shock as he watches Bailey drive away, `Well, that's just perfect. I love you Bailey, with all of my heart and not a single tear from you. How badly I've hurt you. These last 9 months have been all for what? How am I going to do it all again without you? Wow, I've so completely ruined everything for everyone! Yea me.'
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Minutes later Bailey confronts Brooke on the rooftop of their building, "Hey pregnant lesbian sister, you're looking fat. Oh, by the way, I've been wondering; do you just sit on my ex-boyfriend's penis when I'm away at funerals, or should I track him down and send him to your bed now that he's back from sea?"
Looking down at the street below Brooke acknowledges, "You figured it out?"
"Yeah."
"All by yourself?"
Bailey wishes that Brooke and Megan's fire escape in front of the house had somewhere for them to sit like his does, as he likes to sit on the roof and suntan. Alas, with Brooke on the rooftop his hurt and anger boil over so he continues to tear into her, "You betcha, slut. And Neville didn't deny it."
"So he's back? That boy is too honest. Do Mom and Dad know too?"
Bailey rubs tanning lotion over his shoulders, "What do I fucking care? For all I know they probably just think we both got fat and lazy over the summer. We both got fat alright, and both because you're pregnant. Only I got fat because I don't know how to cope with you sleeping with my boyfriend."
"I didn't know that's why. You never said anything."
"Newsflash in case you haven't caught on for at least the last month; you're dead to me. Why would I come to you when you're the one that caused my pain? I wanted so badly to be wrong and for him to look me in the eye and tell me it wasn't him. But he couldn't. He did look me in the eye, but he said `oh shit' and something about God and Eli instead as his eyes bugged out and he cried."
"Bailey, I swear to you, he wanted no part of it. It was..."
Bailey sticks his fingers in his ears, "Shut it hoe. You know what hurts even more? He looked so frightened when he realized he's going to be a dad and I wanted to hold him and tell him it'll be okay; that we'll get through this. And he's got this huge new gash on his arm just below his old scar. I instantly wanted to soothe it for him, but I told him to get the Hell out of my life instead. I can't even describe the look on his face then. It's like his spirit died right before my eyes. Kind of right at the same time my heart died. And I still love him and this hurts so bad. Of all the pranks you've pulled on me growing up, how could you betray me like this? I fucking hate you."
"Bailey, I'm so, so sorry."
"Know what? Just shut up you fucking boyfriend stealing whore! What the fuck? Last I checked lesbians don't get knocked up because they most certainly don't have sex with their own brother's boyfriends! As soon as my curfew is up I am so moving to Grandma and Grandpa's back in Saint John. That way I don't have to look at you or Neville or your kid ever again. Does Megs know about this? I can't believe she hasn't literally killed you. Know what, don't answer. Just lean a little more over the ledge and fucking go kill yourself for me instead."
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Back in the arena, with tears always near to his eyes, Neville sets his room back up as best it was before he left. Over the course of his first week back to Charlottetown he gets back into the swing of school and living in hiding.
The first full day of school, Neville hides away in the weight room for lunch. Out of sight, out of mind, he thinks.
Josh sneaks up on him minutes later and slaps his butt, "Hey there Big Poppa Nev!"
Looking up from an infection he's studying on his arm, Neville sighs, "Frig. You know too?"
"Dude, it was a full-out-throwing-things hissy-fit yesterday until their parents broke it up. I know he broke up with you, and I now know she's pregnant, and because she and Megan think I'm too stupid to catch on, I know you're the daddy. Looks like I'm not the only fuck-up this summer."
"Why, what'd you screw up?"
"Kelsey thought I was checking out Jen Simmonds. I was, but then Kel got all in a shit-fit about me cheating on her like you did. Nev, I swear to you, I'm still a virgin, and I've never come close to touching Jen with anything other than my eyes. You know the drill; just like you touch me with yours. Please don't tell anyone I'm a virgin or I'll have no street-cred left at all. But yeah, you're the gay one and you've gone further with girls than I have."
"So you'll be hiding out every day in here with me I take it?"
"Unless you gross me out with that green arm. I'll swipe my dad's antibiotic cream from his last surgery for you."
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From the very first day back, every day Neville avoids Bailey and Megan and averts his eyes when they have a shared class. Every night he hears music blasting from down in the party room as he gets around to his nightly duties. Five nights in a row as he runs the dressing room garbage over to the dumpster, he takes a peak into the old party room that has transformed into a licensed bar over the summer, making eye contact with the owner. After a week of stealing newspapers from the recycling box while depositing the garbage, in order to fill pockets in his reassembled bed, Neville is startled when the owner of the bar corners him.
"Allo Guv'na," Erin Gilroy says as Neville walks out of the garbage room.
"Uh, hello missus," Neville shyly answers.
"I was talking with your Uncle earlier in the night, asking about putting up a posting for help in the arena when he said I should talk to you," She explains.
Neville's curious, "Oh? What did Uncle Davis say you should talk to me about?"
"I could use a busboy and someone to help me out as a bar-back on busy nights, so I asked some more about you. What he didn't give me was your name, he just called you The Governor, and I didn't get your age either."
Neville extends a hand, "Well if he said it's okay, I'm Neville. I'm uh, eighteen, in a couple months. I'll do anything you want me to."
"Whoa there tiger, I've got a boyfriend and you're a little young!"
"Sorry, I wasn't hitting on you, I have a boyfriend too. Well, had one. Oh my God, forget I said that! Uh, thanks, I gotta go," Neville says, red from embarrassment at just outing himself, and tearing up at the thought of Bailey.
"Not so fast Kevin, how about I show you the job first and then you can give me an answer," Erin says, grabbing Neville by the sleeve.
"You mean that's okay?" Neville asks.
"What, that you had a boyfriend? I think it's hot. That you're still crying over him, not so hot. Love's a bitch."
"A cruel one. And it's Neville, just like the kid in Harry Potter. I really like what you've done to the place by the way, it doesn't even look recognizable to the little kids party room it used to be," He smiles.
"Yeah, my boyfriend and I worked hard on it. Now then Neville, let's see what you can do," She says with a wink.
"Probably not much," He suggests.
"I'm sure you can do lots. Wipe down tables, bring food out to people, take the odd payment if I'm busy. Maybe take an order here or there, help cook nacho's and wings in the back if Miles is weeded. End of the night clean up, pour some pitchers of beer, and no, I don't care if you're underage. I won't tell if you don't, cutie!"
"When do you want me here? Oh, and not to be rude, I got your boyfriend's name, Miles, but I never got yours."
"Oops! I'm Erin. We'll get you to work Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights. For now, come by on Monday around 7:30 and we'll get you started."
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After a lonely first couple weeks back to school, Neville fights with himself and finally decides to go talk to Brooke. He knows Megan and Bailey are busy for the next hour or so with the first curling club meeting of the year, so he decides it's now or never. When he grabs a seat at a table, the diner is almost half full with students from school. He can see Brooke behind the counter, but it's Ronnie that serves him.
"Hey Fag-boy, I guess you know the menu seeing as though you used to work here, huh? What can I get you?"
"Brooke for starters. And my name's Neville in case you conveniently forgot, not Fag-boy or Bag-boy."
"Sorry Neville, the name just slipped. I know you're friends with Josh, so you gotta be alright. Brooke's not actually serving any tables tonight; it's only me and Jen until Megan gets here," Ronnie answers.
Sliding into the chair opposite Neville, Brooke announces, "It's okay Ronnie, I'll take care of my good bud."
When Ronnie walks away Neville looks at Brooke's belly, "So, uh, we're going to be parents."
"Yeah."
Neville is pale despite his tan. His hands are clasped so tightly that his digits are red and his knuckles are white, "Uh, how? I mean, I thought you guys said you weren't pregnant?"
"Megan and I screwed it up somehow. It showed I wasn't, but clearly," Brooke says, gently rubbing her belly.
"Uh, yeah. Clearly. Look Brooke, I don't have much, but I made almost 7300 dollars this summer. I only bought a new pair of shoes for back-to-school because I want to give the money to you, or our kid. I have a little more saved up too," Neville says, taking his summer paycheque from his pocket.
"Not a chance bud. My parents think it might be yours, especially after Bailey's huge spectacle last week, but he never said so, and neither have Megan or I. All the medical bills are covered, so all you need to do is buy something special for when he or she's born, and just keep your mouth shut until my parents can accept that you are the father. In the mean time, you better cash that cheque before it goes stale."
"When will that be with your parents; I want to be involved as much as you all will allow. Megan's hunting me at school but I avoid her as much as Bailey avoids me, at least until I know she isn't going to publicly castrate me."
"Once the baby's born, I think. I'll give it a month or two before I fill my parents in. By then you should be safe. Give Megan some time; she's mostly fine with you, just really pissed off at you for avoiding her lately."
"What do you want me to do? Like, for you, for the baby."
"I had a check-up at the clinic. Everything's good, but your medical history would help. Seems they don't have a record of you getting treatment for being underweight," Brooke says with a wink as she gets up from the table.
Neville's jumpy, worried that Brooke's going to get her father from the back, "Uh, where are you going?"
"To get you some food."
"I haven't ordered yet."
Brooke remembers Neville's eating habits quite well, "No, but you'll start with a V8 and a bowl of chicken noodle soup. Friday is for fowl after all, right? And what, will ten packs of crackers do?"
"No, like two please. Well maybe five. Thanks. Did I really eat that many?" Neville asks and gets a nodded yes.
As Neville eats the soup he watches a fellow student from school constantly checking his wallet and pockets. He walks up to the boy and quietly asks, "How short are you?"
"What? I'm good," the younger boy says.
"You're searching high and low for more money. Here's a 5, will that cover it?"
"Um, yeah," the boy says, leaving it with his money and heads for the door.
Pregnant or not, Brooke is right on the boy's heels as he opens the door to leave, "Hey asshole! My friend is covering for you out of his own pocket right now without so much as a thanks. What makes you think you can come in here and rip us off like that?"
The boy leaves the door open and starts to sprint down the street. Every set of eyes in the diner is either on Neville or Brooke, both of which can see Jonas coming up front. Brooke turns to Neville and nods towards her dad, "Thanks Nev. We're good, but you might want to get going too."
Jonas lets Neville sneak off without a thank-you. While he really likes Neville, he strongly feels that all of his unknowns bear prudence. He's also no longer sure of just what the situation is between Neville and Bailey, convinced that they broke up, but also very aware that his son is heartbroken over it. He thinks it best to gently push Neville away from his son. To top it off, he and Cathy are convinced that Brooke's child is his.
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Nearly a week later Bailey unexpectedly comes upon Neville in a hallway. Putting his feelings of hurt aside, when Neville spots him and turns to leave, Bailey narrows the distance. Dropping 5 dollars worth of coins into Neville's surprised hand, Bailey explains, "We got that kid to pay. A funny thing about trying to rip off people you go to school with; they know where to find you. By the way, that old couple that come in want you to work for them, and they don't care about taxes or your SIN number. There, now I don't owe you anything."
"Bailey, wait. Please?"
"What?"
`I love you, I'm sorry, you deserve the very best and I'm sorry it wasn't me, how are you,' All race through Neville's mind but he finally settles on just saying, "Thank you."
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Waiting on the last bell of the day, Neville heads straight to the pharmacy from school. He already has a part time job, one that pays him minimum wage plus ten percent of nightly tips. Still, 16 hours a week of paid work isn't going to spread very far, so if he can get an afternoon or weekend job from the couple that really warmed up to him, he's going to jump on it.
A bell on a string announces his arrival into the pharmacy. Looking up from a romance novel, Beverly O'Keefe smiles and jumps up from her stool behind the counter, "Well I'll be darned, Patrick! Patrick! Bring yer duff up her a minute, Neville's come by!"
Neville has a long discussion with Mr. And Mrs. O'Keefe about how they no longer dispense prescription drugs from behind the counter, as they feel the time is right to begin transitioning into retirement and deal with only over-the-counter medicines, and other standard items found in a drug store. Neville's availability is just the kick start they need. Before Neville leaves, he has happily agreed to work weekends at the pharmacy.
`Well, my weekends are going to suck serious balls, but seeing as I don't have a life it all works out. I still have all 5 school nights free, so at least my grades won't suffer. Then there's the money too, which is a good thing. I better get used to it, paying for a kid is going to take everything I already have and then some. But I can't beat these benefits, thankfully they even gave me a non-expired medicated cream for the infected cut on my arm to go with the new job.'
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`One week. One whole week of things working out for me is all I fucking get? God, you are really testing me now aren't you?' Neville thinks while crumpling up a note he's reads when he sneaks home after school the following Monday, a note that is left for him on his make-shift bed.
He smoothes out the note and reads it again:
Governor,
You have to find a new place. Now that the bar's open it turns out someone does remember the old party room upstairs and found me living in it so I told them where to go. They'll have someone new in here within days. You're a real good kid. Good luck to you.
Davis
On this late September afternoon Neville's mind takes him back over two years ago, to when he was a much younger and far more naive version of the young man he is today. Meeting Davis for the first time that summer is his most fearsome experience since he's been his own man.
).:.(<<
On his third night sneaking into the arena the way Kenny showed him, all seems as it should be. Neville's studied which doors creak and which don't. Working the blade of his Swiss army pocket knife behind the latch and pulling towards himself, as the one door eases off its mate, Neville grabs the handle of the second door and pulls it open. Letting the first door go as it's the noisy one, he pulls the door open enough to enter and then shuts it tight.
The layout is different today. Things have been moved around, and lots of random junk seems to be scattered about. Every footstep creates some noise or other. His shins are bashed and he's cursed a few times by the time he is half way to his target of the back right corner. Something else in his way falls over and rattles on the floor, and his next step causes a gong sound. The light above where he's headed flicks on.
"Don't move," Neville hears as his eyes focus on the barrel of a shotgun. His legs buckle.
"Don't shoot. Please," Neville says while dropping to his knees and slowly raising his hands above his head.
The man waves the shotgun and asks, "How old are you?"
"Eighteen sir," Neville manages to squeak out.
"Don't lie to me. Yer a broad and lanky kid, but you can't be no more than 14."
Neville sprawls out on the floor, unable to even stay upright on his knees with the gun trained on him. He puts his hands behind his head and speaks, "You're right sir. 15 to be honest. My wallet was just stolen a couple days by another street kid. If I had it I could prove it to you. Are you going to shoot me? Please don't kill me sir."
Far from his proudest moment, his body betrays him and he wets himself.
The man steps back, "The gun ain't on you no more. Stop pissing yerself and stand up. Is that yer bed there?"
"For the last two nights, yes sir."
"And you say yer homeless?"
"Yes sir."
"Why? You another one of them spoiled brat that thinks life's too hard at home?"
"Not exactly, sir. My dad doesn't like me anymore and he told my mom he was going to shoot me dead in a fake hunting accident. She gave me some money in the middle of the night and said to never look back. The money was in the wallet too, and that's why Kenny stole it."
"Yer shittin me."
"No sir. To be honest, I'm real close to doing that too in my pants. If you let me go I'll never do this again. I swear to God Almighty I won't trespass in here and you'll never see me again. I'll even mop up my mess first. Please don't hurt me."
"What'd you do that yer dad would say such a thing?"
"I can't say sir. You'll want to shoot me for it too. Maybe you could just call the police on me. You can tie me up until they get here if you want, I won't fight."
"I'm the one holding the gun right now. I'll tell you what you will and won't do, and I'm telling you to answer my questions. What bad things did you do?"
"Yes sir, I'm sorry sir. I kissed another boy. Please, please don't kill me."
"That it?"
"Pardon?"
"All you did was kiss another boy and yer father was going to kill you for it?"
"I swear it on my life sir."
"Get up kid. Name's Davis. Before you go to bed you might want to wash you and yer pants in a shower in one of the next rooms. Tidy up this boars nest in here and keep yerself out of sight from six in the morning 'til midnight. Don't steal a thing or I'll break yer hands. And I don't want you staying long. You can't be living here."
"Neville, sir. My name's, uh, Neville. Thank you so much. I'll do better; no one will ever know I was here. And as soon as I find another safe place I'll be gone."
A month later Davis walks in on Neville while he's sleeping, "We need to talk Guv'na. Yer still here."
"I haven't found anywhere near as safe sir. I swear to you I've been looking, but the shelter's not an option because they pry too much. The bridges under the train yards are where I almost got mugged by another homeless man. The one place over in downtown has some really mean addicts, and the other one I've been shown really scares me too. But I'll go right now."
"No you won't. I thought you might just be some runaway looking for attention from yer parents, you know, be back home in a few days. You really are a nomad. You won't find a safer place than this. You tidied this room up something unbelievable. So you just keep keeping it clean and never let anyone see you. I live in the building too, as I know you've discovered. And one other thing; you have to go to school. Only if you prove to me yer a good kid, I'll let you stay."
"How can I go to school sir? I'm a runaway. They'll send me back home."
"Say I'm yer uncle."
"Yes sir."
).:.(<<
With Crystal's help Neville did just that, getting enrolled in Colonel Gray High School, just like she set up the bank account for him too. He realizes it's been nearly half a year since he last saw Crystal, and is close to giving up on checking for her weekly. He hopes she's alright; he says a prayer for her nightly along with one for Brooke, and one for Bailey.
Neville starts thinking about what he can do now that Davis is gone. Staying up all night in worry, in the wee hours of the night it comes to him. The basement to the diner. He was down there once with Bailey exploring. If he can get a key to it, he can get into it through a connected basement. Namely the vacant one on the other side of the lawyer's office. It's in far better repair than the building further down the block that squatters use, almost a high-end hotel compared to other vacant buildings. But that doesn't interest Neville.
What interests him is that the back door to the far unit of the connected buildings is far enough away from the Regan's house that he can sneak through it and stay there. All he has to do is steal a key to get a copy made and he's set.
He sets about it right away despite it being the middle of the night, packing everything he can into two hockey bags he previously stole. After breaking into the lost and found, he sorts through lost house keys and takes one of every style he can find. While he's in the lost and found he stows the bag with his hockey equipment that he's pieced together over time. Knowing the equipment, he can come back later and claim it. All the same, he writes his name on the bag with a pen to make it seem more legitimate. The other bag is far more important, holding his clothes and few personal affects.
He hides this other bag, and the two hockey sticks he's stolen over time, in the high school's dressing room before he goes to school. As soon as school lets out he cautiously sneaks into the arena one last time and finds the sticks and bag with his clothes untouched. With the same stealth he's always used in the arena, he sneaks out with the bag and sticks. Crossing the field, he kills time in one of the baseball dugouts until the diner he used to work at should be packed.
At the diner he sets his bag down on the back loading ramp and pokes his head to the window. Spotting Bailey just as busy as he expects, he knocks on the window. Bailey looks towards him so he points towards the door.
Bailey nods and seconds later Brooke opens the door, "Nev, what's up?"
"Hey Brooke. Wow, we created that. You doing okay? I'm kinda embarrassed. My Uncle Davis is moving back up to Montreal next week and I'm going to stay the rest of the year with some old friends. Thing is, there's nowhere for some of my stuff. I remember how huge your basement is and was hoping I could store my hockey bag there. Otherwise I have nowhere to put it."
"For sure. You know where the keys are right? I gotta get back to the food."
Having played Brooke so perfectly, Neville feels bad for preying on her, but beyond relieved that he can do what he's about to. He hugs her with one arm, "Thanks. You don't know how much this means to me."
Wasting no time while he walks down the stairs, he takes one of the master keys off the ring. This key finds its way into his back pocket before he reaches the bottom step. Once he rounds the corner he makes his way to the shelves he remembers with the old sewing equipment, so that he's out of sight if Bailey or anyone else looks down the stairs. He tosses the bag on a high shelf and his sticks behind it. Fishing the keys out of his front pocket, he looks for one that's style matches the key he stole. Finding one the same shape and brand, he puts it on the ring as he walks back to the stairs and up them.
Neville hands the keys to Bailey and their hands linger for the slightest moment. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Neville quickly takes Bailey's hand and kisses it to only mild objection, "Thanks so much. I truly owe you more than I can ever repay."
"No, we're good. You'll never owe me anything Nev," Bailey says and turns back to his cooking.
Neville accepts the progress, at least this time he wasn't told off, "I'll let you work, I'll go now."
).:.(<<
The first few days with the key, Neville is too afraid to sneak into the empty building, instead sleeping in a baseball dug-out one night, behind some dumpsters another night, and in his church's tool shed on the third night. Finally after school on Thursday he does sneak in, as he's badly in need of a change of clothes. He's waited until the diner is at its busiest so that he can go undetected. Carefully and quietly with a master key in hand to gain him admittance, he makes his way to the far basement, beneath the diner.
He grabs a change of clothes for now, and a stuffs a second set in his book bag before carefully sneaking his way through the dark back to the ground level of the closed music store. In the cramped staff bathroom there, he uses the cold water coming from both taps and his 4 day old tee-shirt to sink-bathe himself.
Working at the bar that night, Erin treads lightly about what's been going on, "So you're uncle left town eh?"
"Yeah, things were a lot worse than we knew," Neville lies as his pulse quickens. He's happy the conversation ends there.
He's too worried to talk with Erin until the end of the night, "Uh, Erin. Can I take off for a couple minutes before they lock up? I need to grab my equipment from the lost and found."
"Go ahead Honey."
Later that night Neville ever so carefully sneaks his hockey bag in with him to the Regan's basement. He hides the hockey bag behind a counter where people used to get their bowling shoes and bowling balls. It's as far as he can get by memory in the pure darkness. As lumpy as it is, his hockey bag will serve as his bed for the night. The only thing he has to do first is return the original key that he's gotten two copies made of back to the set of master keys that hang in diner's store room.
Finally finding the door to the diner's basement by feel, he unlocks and opens it before carefully making his way to the stairs. He removes his shoes and quietly pads up the stairs, pausing for longer than necessary after any little creak. At the top of the stairs he opens the door to the diner's store room and uses the streetlight that filters in to replace the dummy key with the original. As long as it takes Neville to do this, it takes him twice as long to find his way back to his hockey bag. Finally sprawled out, but not comfortable, he set his watch alarm for 6:45 so that he can sneak out before anyone three floors above him is awake. Exhausted, with only a little over three hours of sleep ahead, Neville manages to fall asleep muck quicker than he would have figured.
After school the next day, Neville changes clothes in a bathroom stall and then heads straight to the public library. Setting the alarm on his watch, he grabs a copy of a Robert Jordan book and falls asleep to it in a lounge chair. That night while taking a break from the bar, Neville seeks out one of the many flashlights he knows from around the arena and stuffs it into his book-bag.
When he gets to the Regan's building he sneaks up a far fire escape to the skylight and replaces the spare to the arena with a duplicate of the Regan's master key. That done, he hesitantly makes his way to his clothes directly beneath the diner with the aid of the stolen flashlight. Finding the shelf with his clothes, Neville climbs one dusty shelf higher and stretches out on it. This, he's decided is the only thing that works for a bed.
).:.(<<
The next day while working out at lunch, Josh gets personal again, "I don't want to pry, but you're doing okay?"
"Yeah, I'm good, thanks."
"Okay. Well since you're not hiding out in the empty part of the Regan's building, they're going back to Moncton for the whole Thanksgiving weekend. They're leaving Friday, coming back Monday, just so you know. So long as it's just me in the back you should take the chance for free laundry, and if I were you I'd pull a Goldilocks and sleep in a real bed for three nights."
"I couldn't."
"You can and you will or I'll be mad at you."
"Ooh, there's a threat."
"Nothing else works other than to get mad at you."
"Thanks."
"You missed a point Nev; if I can catch you feeding your cat in the alley, so can they."
"And here I was, hoping you were stalking me since we're both without boyfriends at the moment. We could both sleep in Bailey's bed, together."
"No dude. Seriously I saw you...oh shut-up! Keep dreaming!"
"It's what keeps me going. Dreams that is; not of you. Thanks for the head's up though, about the weekend and my lack of stealth. I guess I'm no Batman."
"Nope, you sure ain't either Batman or my boyfriend. I'm closing the place Friday and Saturday. After I lock up and Jen and Ronnie leave Friday, I'll come around and meet you at the back entrance. Then you can show me your set up. Maybe we can fix it up for ya."
"If you want. Just knock on the door to the basement a few times before you lock up and I'll meet you at the back door to the old music shop. Now I know you don't work this way, but to sleep in a real bed? Can I pay you back for this info?"
"Well, if you have a million dollars handy, I could really use it. I just won a million dollar bet with myself that you'd try to square up with me somehow."
"That doesn't make any sense Josh. If you just won a million dollars, why would you need more from me?"
"See, I also lost the bet because it was against myself! The me that lost has to pay the me that won, and I don't have that kind of cash. So if you have any extra millions laying around..."
"Well, other than money I don't have, anything else?"
What, like your boredom and annoying habit of reading my English homework for fun, helping me get my first 80 in 4 years of MacLeod's class instead of my usual high 60's and low 70's isn't enough?"
"That's payment for letting me stay over once a week. Mrs. M's a fair but hard marker, you'll thank her someday."
"And you'll thank me someday if I ever manage to teach you to take a gift gracefully!"
).:.(<<
Inside the old record store Josh follows Neville to the basement stairs, "Ready to give me the grand tour?"
"No, but here goes anyways. Uh, here, grab my hand and I'll lead you. I only use one light in the far basement so it's pitch black for a bit."
"I'm not going to hold your hand Nev. Oh fine, lead away," Josh says as he clamps a hand onto Neville's shoulder.
"You're so funny; you're not going to catch The Gay from me! We did sleep together and you still like the ladies."
"I still don't get why you don't. You can honestly tell me that a nice rack with hard nipples, something sweet down low, and a fine ass really don't do anything for you? You managed to get Brooke pregnant."
"Well if you want to go there, are you really sure that a buff chest, something big down there, and a fine ass don't do it for you? Don't knock it until you try it. And as for the other thing, if you rub the genie's lamp, even if he doesn't like it, he still shoots out of his lamp for you. Anyways, this is it. I shower in that mop sink there, and I sleep on that shelf there. It's just like the bunk I had on the fishing boat mostly, but without the live sex shows."
"What?"
"Oh yeah! They would do it right there with others around. I definitely don't like women, but what I saw was almost enough to turn me off of guys too."
As Neville tells Josh all about the sex he was witness to, he grabs his laundry and they head up to the main floor. Noticing the bulge in Josh's pants that he's eye level with as he loads the washing machine, Neville starts exaggerating the story. When they finally get up to Bailey's room Neville can't help himself and comments, "Nice boner by the way."
"Thanks," Josh answers, well aware that he does have a penis to brag about, and that Neville covets it.
"I could take care of that for you, you know, for being a friend. I'm sure I'm better at giving head then Kelsey was. What do you say?"
At first Josh is angry at the offer, but he realizes Neville's just pushing him, "Fine. Sure. Whatever."
Neville is stunned, "Seriously?"
"Fuck no! But you're little games don't work on me anymore. Think of it this way; if I ever gave in to you, it would be too weird. Especially if you're, you know, good? I could never talk to you again."
"Josh, I hate to ask, but why do you even give a shit about me as it is?"
"I just do. I kind of feel like you're my only friend lately that doesn't judge me. Kelsey's the only one that I could really talk to, and without her, you're the only person I can really talk to. Like open up to and talk about how I feel about things and stuff. I miss her so much Nev."
Josh grabs a pillow and gets comfortable on Bailey's couch while Neville curls up in the large bed. They spend more than an hour talking about how they both messed up their relationships. When Josh falls asleep, Neville gets a blanket from the closet and drapes it over him. Missing Bailey, he walks over to the highboy dresser and sprays on his favourite of Bailey's colognes. He turns off the lights with a sigh and gets into the bed he loves without the man he loves. Curling up into a ball, he can smell Bailey on a pillow as he hugs it tightly.
).:.(<<
Home from Thanksgiving, when he goes to bed, Bailey notices a scent on that's out of place. He hasn't touched Neville's favourite cologne on his dresser since they broke up, so to find the lingering scent of it in his bed raises his suspicion.
Bailey hunts Neville down in the school library before classes start the next day, "You broke into my house and slept in my bed, and even used my towels in the shower, I fucking know it Nev!"
Careful not to actually deny it, Neville acts incredulous, "Yeah. How'd you guess that I just walked into the diner, past all your employees, and went up to your room so I could sleep in the bed of the boy who's heart I broke?"
"Maybe! I don't know. Just get the fuck out of my head already and stay away from me. I swear I could smell you in my bed and I miss what we had so much and I fucking hate you. Oh, and don't go and start thinking we're ever going to be connected by anything other than my slut-sister's kid," Bailey says and storms off with tears flowing.
[to be continued]