Copyright 2010 by Jaden Lane, All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording , or by any information storage and retrieval storage system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner. (Permission to post electronically is given to www.nifty.org and its affiliated mirror sites only.)
This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblances to any person, place, or written works are purely coincidental. It may contain depictions of sex. 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
Bailey puts an arm around Megan to support her as they stand in line outside the funeral home to get into the visitation of their late friend. Now that they are at the funeral home the reality is weighing on Megan, "We'd probably have been sledding out to The Shack with him if we still lived here. That could have been me on the machine with him instead of Erica."
"You would have still rode with me Megs. And Erica's going to be fine once her leg heals. I just can't believe of all people it was Kershaw," Megan says, referring to one of the four Mike's in their old circle, all of which went by their last names for identification amoungst friends.
Behind them another friend they grew up with explains the freak accident that happened when their friend tried to avoid hitting a Moose on the snow trail. This is the first death most of the teenagers have dealt with involving someone their own age and the viewing inside reflects it. Many parents are present to help their teenagers through the viewing, thus making the room crowded beyond capacity and causing the long line ups just to get in.
After a short time inside that seems like an eternity, Bailey needs to get out and grab some air. Leaving Megan with a handful of friends sorting through pictures and reminiscing, Bailey passes another group of friends in the luncheon area as he heads for a patio that has been designated as a smoking area.
In the group of friends that he passes is his ex-boyfriend Jeremy. The two make prolonged eye contact as Bailey saunters by. Before Bailey has his cigarette lit Jeremy comes out to join him. Despite whatever truth or rumours people chose to believe when Bailey outed them, it wouldn't be uncommon for them to be alone together as they were close friends the last few years.
"How are you holding up," Jeremy asks from behind Bailey.
"I don't know. I don't think it's sunk in. I half expect him to be right there behind me with you and jumping on my back and trying to mess my hair up. That just sent shivers down my spine, like I could feel him doing just that," Bailey relates.
"Tell me about it! He always loved messing up your pretty boy hair. Except now he's gone," Jeremy says as the two face each other and hug.
Releasing the plutonic hug Bailey adds, "I know. Poof. Just like that his story's written out of the big script of life."
"I don't remember you being philosophical," Jeremy whispers once the two have found a corner in the funeral hall to talk privately.
"I've had a ton to think about Jer. When you fuck up like I did I guess it's a guilty conscience. Sorry for what I did to you," Bailey says, looking for forgiveness from his one time lover.
Jeremy's resigned to the fact that he'll always love Bailey, even if they are not meant to be together, "I forgave you a long time back. I just didn't let you know because it sucked trying to deny it all. How are you doing Bale?"
Bailey sighs, "Alright I guess. New city, new school, new friends, new restaurant, no you, same old me. Things are okay I guess. How about you?"
Jeremy answers thoughtfully, "The shit storm's died down but never went away. Some people treat me different still. Can't imagine what would happen if I turned to them that day and said yes, I like sucking your dick and want to fuck like bunnies with you!"
Bailey grins, "Really? You wanted to? Then why are we both still virgins?"
"Shut up! So any cute boys in Charlottetown," Jeremy asks.
Bailey nods, "Oh yeah, there definitely are some. One has me pretty fucked up actually."
"Do tell," Jeremy prompts with a little hurt jealousy prompting his curiosity.
"He's super cute. He's so sweet. He works at the diner with us and he makes my heart flutter. Sorry, wrong person to tell," the excitement is evident in Bailey's voice.
"It's coo. Yeah, I just said coo; I'm straight remember...and impervious to you," Jeremy kids.
"Yeah, you never gave in when I slipped my tongue in your mouth or my hand down your pants," Bailey says and punctuates it by jutting his tongue against the inside wall of his cheek.
"I think I was always the one to get things started," Jeremy scoffs.
Bailey waives his hands dismissively, "Details, details. So yeah, you can't let it get back to my parents but I'm a little insane over this guy."
Jeremy grunts, "He have a name?"
"It's sort of old-world or British or something. Neville. His friend calls him Nev and I love it," Bailey beams.
Jeremy hates himself for asking but wants to know, "So you hook up with him?"
"Nope, he's complicated," Bailey's words are echoed by an unintentional furrow of his eyebrows.
Jeremy inclines his head and presses, "You going to hook up with him then?"
Bailey can see the hurt in his old boyfriend. He takes it to mean that Jeremy still has feelings too, despite what happened. Not wanting to rub salt in the wound he tries to fluff it off, "Not sure Jer. Like I said, he's complicated, maybe too complicated for me. And once he finds out I have to do community service he's so not going to be interested."
Jeremy's heart sinks a little, "So he's gay too?"
"I think so. There's this other guy that works for us. Huge dick, biceps, chest and abs that show through any shirt he wears, bug muscle-butt that I don't care for. His face is too square and I think ugly, but Megs and Neville both get hard over him wet their panties when he's not looking. Yeah, Nev denies it but he has to play for our team," Bailey confirms.
A mildly sinister smile breaks across Jeremy, "Your team Bale. I'm not coming out until I go to McGill for university. I'll live gay life to the fullest there, eventually find a man and get hitched. And when I come home to visit the first time or the thousandth I'll always tell lies of all the pussy I score."
"Your call man," Bailey rolls his eyes at the same line Jeremy's given him since the two boys first confided in each other.
Jeremy steers the conversation away from his refusal to come out to family and friends, "Yeah. Hey, how'd you manage to still be allowed to work in restaurants anyway?"
Comforted to just be talking with the boy he could have really loved forever, Bailey leans back in a chair so that the front legs are lifted. With his legs spread wide he rolls on the balls of his feet, "My parent's lawyer is good I guess. Technically I'm not supposed to be cooking for the restaurant but it's not like I collect a paycheque so the government isn't going to find out unless they install hidden cameras. I'm never being that stupid again though anyways. Life was sweet here. The new house is cool with its super high ceilings and open concept going on, but it's draughty and creepy and it's doesn't feel like home. My bedroom used to be some bank manager's office and the basement has these like weird torture contraption looking things still bolted to the ground that supposedly made dresses or curtains or something. I'm telling you it's eerie like Tales from the Crypt!"
Jeremy fondly remembers how easily Bailey can spook himself, seemingly afraid of his own shadow. It used to give him ample opportunity to comfort him or hold him close, "Seriously?"
Nodding, Bailey explains the building, "Yeah. There's like an abandoned bar, a music store, and even a pool hall slash bowling alley in our building. Mom and Dad bought like a triplex or something, like you'd see on Main St. Everything's mothballed except a lawyer's office, and that guy's so old he should be mothballed too. So they had to buy an entire building that combines home and work all under one roof. It's the best they could do, and all because of me."
Jeremy's meant to ask a couple times but just now is able to slip it into the conversation, "So what community service did you have to do?"
Bailey stops rocking on the back legs of the chair and leans forward, his elbows now resting on his thighs, "Still not sure yet. I got transferred to a Judge there and he's big on cleaning up and hard labour, nothing easy like reading to an old lady or anything. I think it's down to graffiti cleanup of every public building or picking up garbage in parks and along the highway. Two hundred hours of it. That's like 5 weeks of my summer. Yup, I'm sure that'll be a selling point to Nev."
Instinctively Jeremy leans in a little closer to the guy he used to love to kiss and hold, "Who knows maybe your charm can still win him over."
Resting his chin on the palm of his hand leaning a little closer himself to Jeremy, Bailey jokes, "If it could work on you, it can work on anyone!"
Jeremy tries to deadpan, "Hey, I was just with you because it was convenient!"
Bailey can smell the familiar minty coolness of Jeremy's gum, something he just now realizes he's always associated with Jeremy, "Sha-right! If that was true we wouldn't both still be virgins!"
After looking both ways Jeremy winks at Bailey, "Oral still counts. Letting you put your nasty in my mouth makes us not virgins."
"Touche. But I think you liked it just as much as I did," Bailey says as the two look each other deeply in the eyes.
Realizing how close they are getting, both lean back and create more space, partly for anyone looking on but mostly so they don't succumb to old feelings. Bailey indicates the hallway crowded with people paying respects to their late friend by nodding his head in that direction, "I wonder if Kershaw ever got his blown before he left us. Hopefully he did."
Jeremy lets out an exaggerated breath, "Yeah, it would suck dying and the first person to ever touch you there is a mortician."
"It would just plain suck to be dead at our age," Bailey corrects him.
Jeremy is pensive, "Scary isn't it?"
"Fuck yeah," Bailey acknowledges before the two fall into an introspective silence.
After a few minutes of silence another friend leaving the viewing and crying loudly snaps them out of their silent reflection. Making eye contact again Jeremy inquires about Bailey's best friend growing up, Mike Smith, "Hey, where are you and Megan staying? Smitty's?"
"No, Megs could stay with Kelly, but were all staying with Aunt Pat and Uncle Nick. Like I could even crash with the Smith's, having come out and all. Smitty probably doesn't want or need me on his floor, it could be as bad for his rep as I was for you. I did run into him in line, he doesn't seem to mind I play for the other team. He wasn't all freaked out by me but it's not exactly like we're best friends anymore either. Far from it now," Bailey answers.
Jeremy's a little surprised, "Oh, did you come with Mike? I didn't see him."
"No, met him here when we were waiting to get in," Bailey relates.
"You sticking around for the weekend," Jeremy asks with a hint of hope in his voice.
"Nah, just the service, then driving back home. We have to relieve the hands at work. And it's not exactly the time for a reunion," Bailey says as he grinds the toe of his shoe into the ground.
"Well I'm going to get back to the gang, come with? And Bale, it's good to see you again," Jeremy says and hugs Bailey.
"You too Jer, you too. I'm really sorry I screwed things up so bad for you," Bailey hugs back.
Jeremy can't help himself, "If you really are just do me a favour and tell everyone you made the part about me up because you had a crush on me. Some will still act like dicks to you I'm sure but you know, I think that most everyone's happy to see you again, gay or not. Just have to be under better circumstances next time."
Bailey agrees, "Amen to that!"
Jeremy makes a little sound of amusement, almost a choked laugh, "You religious now?"
Bailey smiles, "Not overly, but the boy I'm falling in love with is. Just practicing for him."
"If he's half as good as you hope he is, you deserve him. If he asks for letters of reference I can vouch that you're a pretty decent boyfriend yourself," Jeremy says as he starts walking back to the room their friends are in.
).:.(<<
With Bailey and Megan gone along with Cathy and Jonas to the funeral it's just Brooke, Neville and Josh running the diner that evening. Neville's dreading talking with Brooke and not sure what he's going to say. After helping Josh clean the kitchen once the doors are closed the three sit down to talk and eat. Over a grilled turkey sandwich, salad, and bowl of chicken noodle soup Neville's still trying to figure out a way to leave with Josh and bail on his promised talk with Brooke when Kelsey taps on the front door like she often does.
Neville's stuck now, `So much for skipping out on Brooke. I should have just left earlier without eating. Ah Kelsey thanks for trapping me without knowing. I should have known you were waiting on him. Here you are, right on cue to sneak off with Josh and get a little nookie before he goes home. Such a faithful girlfriend. And look at him light up over you. He could have any guy or girl he wants and you got him. Lucky bitch.'
Brooke is on the same wavelength, teasing Josh as she turns the deadbolt to let him out, "Need a room there Josh? There are a few free beds upstairs tonight. You two can stay in one room and Neville can stay in another."
"Nah, we've got a few places we can sneak around in, but we have to go to her sister's dance recital or something way too early in the morning to stay out too late messing around, so we don't need to get comfortable," Josh says while pretending to shoot himself in the head with a finger-gun.
Returning to the table Brooke laughs, "Looks like someone's getting some action tonight."
`Now she's going to start drilling me. Brooke wants secrets? She wants to know my story, my family, and my living situation? This should throw her off that,' Neville hopes as he reveals, "I used to hate Kelsey but what can you do? He has to know I used to love him more, but that worked to her advantage, drove him right to her. I think he almost really loves her, even if he's getting some action on the side. I'd have even settled for that once upon a time, to polish his knob on the side but I just recently found out the thought of me liking him really disturbs him. So now I have to lie to him and say it's because I'm envious of his body and swear to him that I'm not gay. Stupid me for falling in love with a straight guy."
Brooke is totally floored by Neville's honesty, "What?"
It's worked for him again; his best defence is a strong offence so he continues, "I know I'm right but just tell me this, Bailey's one of us too isn't he? I wasn't barking up the wrong tree when I kissed him was I? Josh was always just a fantasy and I know he's straight. But your brother? I'll die if I'm wrong because I haven't been able get him out of my mind since he sat next to me in class your first day here. You know I hated him at first because I knew right away something in him was going to break my resolve?"
Brooke hugs Neville and almost screeches in delight, "He walks into walls because of you! He rubs your laundry against his face when he folds it for you and Mom found one of your shirts under his pillow!"
Neville can't believe what he's just done. To hide one secret he's offered up another. Now Brooke is going to be pushing for him to hook up with Bailey. The threat of his living situation getting out is now even greater. He has to stop it somehow, "Well he's just going to have to be patient because as slight as I am, I do have a ton of baggage that I carry around. It's almost literally what makes me so scrawny. You only hit the tip of the iceberg at school today about my home life. We're not even going there now so don't get your hopes up. You don't know how hard it is to even let you know this much."
"How about you make us root beer floats while I go check on Bethany? I left her friend's phone number upstairs, I'll be back in a jiffy. Then you can tell me all about it," Brooke suggests as Neville gets up to wash their dishes.
After Brooke returns from calling Bethany who is staying over with a new friend for the night, and they've finished their floats while discussing Bailey, Neville tries to force Brooke's hand and get her to send him on his way for the evening by pretending to try and con an invitation to stay the night out of her, "Are you going to be okay by yourself tonight? Do you need some company? If not I should be on my way."
Brooke and Megan have wondered just what goes on with Neville when he's not at school or at work. They've discussed it and Josh has given them the same muddy picture he gave Bailey, one that doesn't make sense. Cathy and Jonas have been curious as well, more because Neville hasn't produced anything tangible for his employment documentation yet. While Brooke and Bailey have gently tried to push their parents to lay off, Brooke is now more concerned than ever because Josh directed her to a hiding spot where Neville has taken to sleeping at during the school lunch break. Letting him stay the night gives her more time to pump him for whatever information he'll divulge.
Thinking he's sincere and not knowing he's hoping to get the brush-off, she doesn't make Neville struggle, "Fishing for an invite? I already offered you and Josh. Yeah, I wouldn't mind the company. Bailey's bed is free. If you promise not to mess in it. And you can't let him know I let you sleep in it either, he'll hurt himself humping the mattress that you slept on."
Neville smiles, "Maybe he already has; he let me sleep in it most of the night when I stayed over, before I kicked him out of the pull-out and sent him to his cloud-bed."
"You guys didn't get it on that night did you?"
Following Brooke around as she checks the doors once more and turns off the lights he reveals, "No, we hugged in the morning. It was weird because we both wanted it but both pretended like we didn't. That's my take on it anyways. I kissed him in the afternoon and that's the extent of it so far. Oh, wait, he gave me the most amazing foot massage when I was half asleep. It would have been a little Hannibal Lector-esque for sure if I didn't like him, like, like-like him, and he didn't go any further. It just felt so good I couldn't say anything because I didn't want him to know I was awake and I didn't want him to stop. And as you tell me, he's the one that folds my clothes and sleeps with one of my tee-shirts."
Wanting to ask why Neville doesn't want to go home but not sure how to, she just teases him as she leads him into Bailey's room, "Well I'm sure there's a shirt of his in here that you can tuck under the pillow or hold onto like a safety blanket when you sleep. Or socks if that's your thing or whatever else."
Neville doesn't follow, "Huh?"
Brooke is not shy, "I don't know. His foot massage. Maybe you're one of those people that have a thing for feet? You did take a pair of his socks."
Neville instantly tenses, having just been busted for stealing Bailey's socks, "What?"
Brooke laughs and heads for the door, "A foot fetish. Some people like to suck on toes and for you boys, spooge on them. Wow, you are so innocent!"
Neville follows around the house as she turns off lights and double checks the doors, "No, I only like the bulges. You know dicks and bums and pecks. It doesn't hurt to have nice arms, abs, and faces. Just your basic normal stuff for a not-so-normal sock stealing homo boy. I didn't mean to steal his socks. I guess they just got in my bag. I'll give them back!"
"Don't bother. Baby-bro got a boner when he saw you wearing his socks. Take more of his clothes if you want to start things slow with him. Just let him know he has a chance at what's underneath them," Brooke says as she heads for her and Megan's room.
"I guess I'll just make myself comfortable," Neville questions as he follows Brooke into her room.
She reaches for her shirt, "Well I'm going to bed buddy, you go have a shower and then pick whatever you want out of Bailey's stuff if you want something to sleep in. Pyjama pants and boxer thingies are in his bureau, shorts and shirts are somewhere in his dresser. I'm sure he'll love for you to sleep in whatever for him."
Neville asks, "Uh, what are you doing?"
Brooke can't believe his reaction. To her it's priceless how he averts his eyes, "Undressing. Leave your clothes on the floor in the bathroom and I'll toss it all in the wash with mine."
"Yeah but you're a girl, and we're friends I really shouldn't be seeing this," Neville jokes.
"You the one that followed me! You boys are always so shy, especially the ones that have no reason to be. Hurry up, I have to be up early to open the restaurant tomorrow."
Neville undresses in the bathroom and disappears behind nearly opaque glass into what he'd almost consider a shower room. The five sided corner shower is large enough that he could lay down and stretch out different ways; between shorter walls parallel to longer walls and from the diagonal door to main corner opposite it.
`Heck, I could almost fit a mattress in here comfortably unlike the shower stall I sleep in! Everything looks so new about this shower, I bet the last owners upgraded this bathroom just to help sell the place,' He absently observes to himself, unaware that Brooke has already snuck in and gathered the still warm from his body clothes to wash.
Once Brooke has the laundry started she sneaks back into the bathroom, thinking catching him naked and defenceless he might just divulge his secrets. Waiting until she can make out through the dark smoked glass walls that he is rinsing his unruly hair with his eyes shut between and under the cascading streams of water, Brooke gets in the large shower and closes the door behind her.
Sluicing shampoo from long locks that he's recently been trying to tame, Neville feels a slight draught on his back. He screams and jumps forward when Brooke wraps her hand around his manhood. She just laughs, "See, you are too modest! I may not have firsthand experience with the real thing, but this size doesn't hang from the small or medium hooks in the sex shop. You're not even hard and the toy Megs and I have isn't this thick or this long."
"Brooke, can you take your hand off it please? Uh, I know it's your house and all, but I'd really like to maybe not have you walk in on me naked. And maybe finish the shower alone," Neville pulls away from her and tries to cover up.
"Don't have a heart attack. Your body's not that bad you know, and you have a cute bum, for a boy. Sheesh, relax! Even if you're embarrassed that you're getting hard right now, we're both gay. It's not like my nipples are getting hard in response. C'mon have a little fun and have a shower with me!"
Neville backs up all the way to the wall, the water taps pressing into his back as he looks to escape the shower stall. Yet he can't help but look at Brooke's breasts as she mentions them, "Uh. They look hard to me."
The shower takes a turn neither see coming. They don't intend for it to become sexual, but beneath the crisscrossing sprays of warm water in the steamy shower Neville loses his virginity. One thing leads to another and it's mutual curiosity rather than desire that leads to the act. They don't think, they just act and react as it happens. Afterwards neither knows what to say.
While Neville is rummaging through Bailey's things for something to sleep in Brooke walks in on him and pulls him completely unclothed into Bailey's bed with her. In bed with the lights still on, staring at an equally unclothed Brooke, Neville finally snaps out of his daze, "I can't believe we did that. You don't like boys, I don't like girls, so pray tell what the fuck was that? You're not the Regan I was hoping to sleep in this bed with, and quite frankly you're not even the sex I intended to give my virginity to!"
"It's kind of cute, but you should trim the jungle," Brooke ignores his confessions and grabs for his exposed member under the sheets that again reacts to her touch, "Ah! It's alive!"
"Yeah, it's been known to do that when it gets touched. Let go, please? I didn't know we were going to shower together. I didn't know we were going to do that."
"Yeah well who knew when you get a boner it thickens about much as it lengthens?"
"I did. Yup, to date it was me and only me. I'm a little flattered that you're impressed, but it's something I hope to impress a boy with, namely your brother," Neville says. He can't deny that he is again hard, and he's still not sure why. It's not the sight of Brooke, if anything she keeping it from reaching its complete firmness in the shower. He thinks back to his youngest brother, `Trevor used to tease me about this, that I was bigger than Mike or Seth. It's bigger than a lot of what I spy on in the hockey change rooms, and still smaller than some. Smaller than Josh I think, he should do porn with everything he has going on for him, in my eyes at least. Meanwhile I'm waiting on an invitation to see what Bailey's got, and his lesbian sister experiences me first. '
Brooke starts stroking out of curiosity, "Can I?"
"No! Brooke, stop. Please! This is really FUBAR."
"Huh?"
"Fucked up beyond all recognition," He explains the acronym.
"Sorry. I'm just curious what the big fuss is about. Don't worry, I haven't just had an epiphany and realized I like guys. Sorry I touched you. But weren't you curious? To be with a girl and see what it does. Like I know you're gay and guys are your thing, but didn't you ever wonder sometimes what would happen anyways?"
"No."
"Not at all? Like I try to understand Megan and why she and you find Josh so hot when I don't even think he's all that good looking to be frank. He's certainly not the quintessential star quarterback Hunky McDreamboat. I do get why she and Bailey both check you out. When you forget to scowl and don't realize you're smiling and you're just letting go you're decently handsome. You don't ever think a girl's pretty? Aren't you even curious?"
"No. To be honest, no. Never felt much of anything for a girl. Tall or short, black, white, Asian or Native, pretty or ugly, fat or anorexic, blonde, black, brunette, red or bald; you've always just been girls. I mean yeah, I'd prefer the hotter ones as friends if I cared, but that's about it. I tried to like girls, Seth even used to flash Trevor and me his girlfriend's tits, thinking he was doing us a favour. Now Trevor, I think it worked for him. Me, if anything it would kill an erection. Like now."
"You mean this isn't it? Wait, who the heck are Seth and Trevor?"
"Someone. I mean no one, they're both no one. Sorry, never mind. Sometimes I make stuff up, okay? But, yeah, even now with you doing that I'm hard, but not hard," Neville says and then tries to deflect the attention to his latest slip of the tongue, "I know I always tried my best to stand out to other guys and have them like me, even get them to notice me. And I'd get sweaty hands and my heart would race and it took me a while before I even noticed it happening and even longer to understand. But I've understood I'm gay for a few years now."
"That's cool. So it gets harder than this? Show me?" She continues to grope Neville much more extensively than she did in the shower, "Oh wow. Bailey's right. Don't hurt him with that!"
"It's nothing special, pretty average," Neville blushes, all the while denying that he's decently endowed.
Brooke lightly taps her free index finger on the tip of Neville's nose, "It's special enough to me now; big, small, or average."
"This is like science class to you isn't it? I'm ten fucking shades of red and you're like `Wow, a penis. It's as long as my forearm and as thick as his wrist, but the bush is ugly. What kind of stimulation does it react to. If I touch it, it twitches, but he says it's deflating. What would happen if my brother touched it? What would happen if Bailey massaged his prostate?' Well, that last one was more for me now that I'm actually doing this for you!"
Still touching him she laughs, "You're a little generous with the length there! Yeah, I'm a lot more fascinated than I would have thought. The bush just needs trimming. Your nut sac is ugly; I'd shave that thing and maybe behind it too before you play show and tell with Bailey. He spends hours pruning himself for you. But again I ask you, weren't you at least the slightest bit curious too?"
"No, I wasn't. Fine. You want to see it? Like in a totally non sexual way this time? Step off," Neville says and swats her hand away, taking a sitting position against the headboard with his legs spread wide, working to show Brooke his full size.
`We may have just started a life by doing what we did. It's just about perfect timing, almost four weeks since Bailey told me to star on my calendar. If she gets pregnant from that it won't work. If a kid comes from this I want it to be for want of having one, not because we went too far while exploring how not-turned on we are by the opposite sex. What is she thinking? What were we thinking? Oh well. God's child, born of the desire to procreate rather than to confirm our blasphemy. Now I have to get her to go for it again somehow; have to make it count for something this time.'
Collapsing into a sweaty pile after both achieving orgasm there is no post coital passion, just two young adults unable to make eye contact. Both are deeply worried about what they've done, for very different reasons. Neville's regret far outweighs Brooke's; again he's been weak and given into evil temptation, a temptation that flies in the face of his much larger transgression of homosexuality.
All Brooke says is, "Shut the lights will you?"
When Brooke is asleep Neville's mind is still racing, `How can she be so unaffected by this? This is huge, like life altering huge. If she gets pregnant it has ramification on the rest of our lives. I'm not ready to be a father at all, and I'm a vagrant on top of everything else! Good Lord, what have I done?'
When sleep won't come and allay Neville of his fretting he rises and slips into a pair of pants and a long sleeve shirt from Bailey's hamper. Finding a crushed package of cigarettes still in the pocket, Neville looks around for a lighter in the bedroom that is lit more by the moon than the night light. Eventually he finds one by a cluster of candles. He steps barefoot through a door onto the fire escape that doubles as a small patio for Bailey. Rather than sit on the metal wicker chair he climbs the ladder to the roof.
Ignoring the complaints he's registering from his bare feet, he walks across the snow-covered gravel rooftop to the near side of the building and looks down at the barren intersection below. Lighting up the cigarette his mind wanders to the rooftop scene he remembers from The Basketball Diaries and beyond, `Well kid, you're in the majors now. You should have stuck to filling tissues like the movie, or in my case painting shower tiles with my baby batter. Or better yet, not giving in to wicked temptation at all.
Wonder if Dad would take me back in now, proud as Hell that I apparently am cured of my evil homosexuality, or if he'd still plan to remove his paternal mistake from the face of God's green earth for this sin instead? Neville, ha! I never realized at the time I chose it that it has EVIL spelled out right in it. How fitting; I clearly am evil. I wonder if he turns out to be evil too in the books? Forget Lord Voldemort, I'd watch out for that one Harry!'
When Neville next pays attention to the mangled cigarette it has already burned out in his fingers without his help beyond the first few puffs to get it lit. There's one more in the pack but he doesn't care to light it, not being a smoker in the first place. Giving in to the severe chill running through his body, he looks to the moon as he crosses the rooftop back to the ladder and clumsily navigates his way down it on numb feet. The song Memory from the musical Cats plays through his mind. How he'd love to have had an opportunity to see that show.
Once inside his body complains even more as his feet start to warm. He knows he won't be getting much sleep until his mind finally wears itself out tonight so he limps downstairs to the upright piano and tries to coax some resemblance out of the ebony and ivory keys to the song that is on feedback loop in his mind. With limited success he switches to a Bette Midler song his sister Kristen taught him back in better days. If his rendition of The Rose wakes Brooke he has no idea, she's fast asleep when he finally gets under the sheets to sleep.
When Brooke wakes to the alarm Neville turns it off and looks at her. He didn't sleep much through the night while she snuggled her body up to his under her brother's sweaty sheets and slept deeply. As her hazel eyes focus and settle on his green windows to the world he states, "I think we screwed up, big time."
"Ya think? Like twice," She agrees.
"Uh, maybe twice for you, sorta three times for me."
"What? You mean you...both times? Even twice one of the times?"
"Uh, yeah," He says through the side of his mouth as he nervously bites at his bottom lip.
Truly surprised, Brooke goes on a verbal tirade, "A little fucking trigger happy aren't you? I didn't think it was doing anything for you, you seemed to go soft. How could you be so stupid? Why the hell didn't you pull out?"
"I tried to in bed but you said you were almost there and you wouldn't let me stop. And both times you reached orgasm and wouldn't let me go, I uh, reached orgasm too. How couldn't you know that?"
"It was my first time with the real thing! It's not like I have any practice with someone actually attached to one!"
"It was my first time too. I've never done anything with anyone else. I hardly ever even, you know, by myself? And then a long time ago I pretty much stopped that altogether too, when I lost so much weight because I would faint every time. It got to the point I didn't even want to risk passing out from it and literally getting caught with my dick in my hands in the shower or even in bed 'cause sometimes I'd be out for a while. Yeah, things were getting real bad there for a while. Dear God, you wouldn't believe how bad."
"No, some of us saw that. Like you were literally starving to death when you first came in that day bargaining for pancakes," She says and cocks both eyes for emphasis.
Neville looks away. That's a dark spot in his life he will always remember, but doesn't care to dwell over or reflect upon right now. A deafening silence ensues.
Brooke quietly inquires, "What-the-fuck-are-we-going-to-do?"
"I don't know. I mean it's not, oh shit! It is almost four weeks since the storm. Is it, uh," He says, knowing leading her while playing dumb.
"Almost time for my period? Yeah," She confirms.
He thinks he's found a peace with the idea. It's not what he'd wanted but he can't change it now. If she is pregnant he'll just have to deal with it. For her benefit he acts a little distraught, "Oh fuck."
"Have a shower and help me open the restaurant," Brooke commands.
"We didn't flip the laundry did we?"
"Just dress in Bailey's stuff, and get the restaurant open. I have to take care of this."
He's concerned, "How?"
Brooke meekly explains, "Megan and I have a shower attachment that goes where you went."
"Uh, that probably won't work you know. The shit's pretty waterproof. It doesn't just rinse off in the shower without help," Neville informs her.
She's pretty sure it would be ineffective too if she were to actually try to prevent a pregnancy with it. But she's not even going to try. If she's pregnant Megan will be angered by the method, but supportive. The idea they've had is for Megan to get pregnant after she's graduated high school by Bailey so that the child they have is biologically her niece or nephew, and Megan's son or daughter. Only they both know Bailey doesn't have it in him to come through for them, he likes the idea of being the father to their child but is quite repulsed by the required act to make it happen at the same time.
The timing isn't perfect, Brooke was to have their second child some time after Megan according to their fantasy plans. But still, she graduates from school this year and will be months from it should she give birth to a child just begotten. If fate has it that Brooke is pregnant while Megan finishes her last year of high school before they move on to university together, it doesn't follow their plan but it's not the worst thing that could happen either.
Brooke is very fond of Neville as a person and despite the allure of his mysteries and his questionable back story he is a genuinely kind and gentle guy in her eyes and he has enough gentle features to hopefully father a decent looking and well mannered child. To say that she trapped him wouldn't be a far stretch of the truth, but at the same time it was not pre-meditated.
She doesn't want anything of him other than what he already gave her. His blessing in having the child should she conceive, sure, and to be in the picture as the child grows would be a bonus too, but she and Megan would be prepared to go on without either. Still, she hopes he's accepting of her desire to have the child should she be pregnant, which in her mind is premature to even really waste time wondering about. Still, the prospect tempts her rather than terrifies her.
Getting her parents to accept her decisions will be a larger worry down the road. But for now she wants to alleviate Neville's mind and then to win Megan's support. All in all she's excited while feeling little trepidation. She starts her day by reminding herself over and over that nothing is certain at the moment.
She offers him a supportive smile, "Neville, cutie, go have a shower and then put that thing away before I get mad and Bobbit it. And pretend you went home and just came back early if anyone asks."
).:.(<<
Neville feels many layers of guilt in the late afternoon when the family returns from the morning funeral in Moncton, `Hey Megan, I had sex with your girlfriend twice. Some friend I am. Hi Cathy and Jonas. I just made you grandparents to be. Thanks for giving me a job and not harassing me about my working for you illegally. Bet you'll regret that for the rest of your days. Hey Bailey, don't smile so freely at me; you just came from a funeral and even worse, while you're all shaken up over that I boinked your sister. Some friend I am again.
Yeah, never mind that I really want to boink with you. Some prospective boyfriend I am. Oh yeah, and I helped myself to my favourites of your clothes. I'm head to toe in your clothes on the outside, as I see you've noticed. Wow, I think everyone can see you've noticed. Bet you're wondering if I'm wearing your stuff under your tan pants too. Yup, I'm digging the fashion label jockstrap that's cradling something I wanted to give to you but used to make you an uncle instead. If it cheers you up I put on the same fashion label socks in case you have one of those foot attraction thingees. Sorry to tease you buddy, sorry I cheated on you with your sister. You deserve to like someone better than me.
Well, there we have it. Something is wrong with me. They were right all along; I must be spawn of the Devil. Oh my God, Neville's just a few letters away from Devil. I need to see a priest, pronto.'
Josh pulls Neville out of his self-condemnation, looking at an early edition sports news story on the television Josh taps him on the shoulder, "Hey Nev, can you believe our Bruins are actually going to trade Ray Borque? I'll burn anything I have with their logo if they do, or give it all to you. Especially if they trade him to the stupid Flyers."
Happy for any distraction he engages Josh, "I don't know. We've got Thorton and Samsonov, and Dafoe's been pretty solid. I don't get why they're so bad this year, but Borque's near retirement, maybe we can get some good players for him."
It's more amazement than surprise that Josh feels when he realizes Neville's been able to keep up on their favourite team despite his homelessness. The scale in his mind is slowly tipping towards just letting sleeping dogs lie, `If Nev's able to maintain work and stay up on current events, all the while consistently being the top student in our grade, maybe what he has works for him. Maybe he doesn't need his life disrupted. Then again, imagine what he could pull off if he had a proper home?'
After he's changed at the end of his shift Neville corners Brooke, "Have you told anyone?"
"No! My head's been swimming all day. I feel all funny. I don't know what I'm going to do," She reveals.
Neville face drains of colour, "You mean like you can feel a baby already?"
"No jackass! I feel sore. Megan and I don't slam each other the same way you and I did. When we're rough we're still more gentle than having you do it," Brooke snaps back.
"Are you guys going curling tomorrow? I called and asked Laura to cover my shift tomorrow so that I can go to church. I need to seriously pray. And we need to talk. You know the big church a block over on the other side of the courthouse? Can you meet me there around maybe ten tomorrow morning?"
"Yeah."
Neville turns back to ask Bailey if he can borrow his pants for tomorrow, as he doesn't want to wear jeans or his own dirty pair of khakis to church. When he returns to grab his book-bag from the storage room he just changed in minutes ago Bailey is picking up the folded clothes Neville had borrowed. Before clearing his throat to announce his presence Neville watches Bailey tuck the royal blue undergear back into the pants and inspect the mostly white socks, "Sorry. Had a spill this morning and Brooke made me change into your clothes. I also swiped a pair of your socks a while back by mistake. I'll buy you new stuff to replace them, whatever you want. I shouldn't have even given this stuff back to you, I'm sorry. I'll replace what I wore."
"It's fine. Don't fret. It was just surprising to see you in my clothes when we walked in. Like fully in my clothes," Bailey says while trying to not convey any excitement.
"Uh, about that then, can I borrow the Dockers again for tomorrow? My good pants are stained and I need something decent for church," Neville asks.
Bailey is still wearing a nice dress shirt that goes with the tan pants well enough so he takes it off and his belt too, and hands them with the pants to Neville, "Here. I know you're good for returning them. Plus, I know where you work if not!"
It's a question Neville uses to throw people off, but one he's actually very passionate about. Out of left field he asks, "Batman or Superman; who's cooler?"
"Batman, hands down," Bailey says as Neville falls for him just a little more.
Neville throws his arms around Bailey and hugs him tight for the briefest of moments, digging his hands into the sleeveless undershirt that Bailey has taken to wearing after himself, much like he started wearing one to emulate Josh. Intoxicated by the cologne he loves on Bailey, he also gives him another quick peck on the cheek before letting go and giving him a more sports oriented `way to go' pat on the top of his butt. Pulling the fashion jockstrap from the pants, he balls it up and presses it into the hands of a completely shocked Bailey, "You're a Godsend and I don't deserve a friend like you. Thanks so much for being you! Love you, gotta go."
Bailey can't even form words quick enough before Neville has zoomed out the back door and is jogging down the slushy back ally. He doesn't see the tears that Neville felt coming on and raced to conceal, he only hears the words resonate in his mind, `Love you? Did he just say he loves me?'
Along the service way he sneaks through, just past the Zamboni Neville notices a set of keys on the ground beside a freshly changed garbage pail. Not just any keys but a master set to the arena that one of the employees has lost and is searching for. When he navigates the still populated arena and sneaks into his Bat-cave the first thing he does after neatly laying out the clothes is take the opportunity to sneak into both change rooms on the far side of the hallway from the two flanking his hidden home.
The teams he saw out on the ice are higher skill level guys, and that means most of those guys strip completely before dressing in their hockey gear, and have to come to the arena in suits and ties. He checks all the bags until he settles on a sporty pair of no-show ankle length socks that he thinks Bailey will like if he has a thing for feet and socks. Based on some of the taboo underwear he rummaged through in Bailey's drawers, he swipes a pair of short boxer briefs that he deems to be the cutest and most sexy. He hopes to flash a little of them to Bailey when he wears them, if Bailey will ever even look his way again once he finds out he had sex with Brooke that is.
He also grabs a tie and out of the few that are his size, he selects the pair of dress shoes that he deems to be the most versatile for the different styles of clothing in his wardrobe. He hides these stolen items in a plastic bag inside an old mop bucket and covers them with a broken door latch that lets players handle it with gloves on to get on and off the ice. This is just in case Davis comes looking his way for the stolen items. He also returns the keys to roughly the same area he found them so that it looks like the owner didn't look hard enough for them if he even knows they're missing yet. He hopes that if someone thinks they were stolen and puts it together with the missing clothing that it at least looks like anyone could have done it and nothing directly points to him.
Not sticking around is also a good idea. If he's not in the arena at the time of the crime he can't be faulted for it. With his book-bag over his shoulder he heads upstairs and grabs a hot dog from the concession and takes a seat in the stands. Pulling out some homework he engrosses himself in it while the game plays on. To drill the point in to Davis that he's afraid to sneak into the occupied hallways to the change rooms and his hidey-home, he remains in the stands as Davis clears the ice for the next game and makes sure to wave to him as he circles the ice surface on the Zamboni. Like many other times, to drive the notion that he only sneaks into his home when everyone is gone, Neville stays in stands doing homework for the entirety of the remaining two games also.
Back in his Bat-cave for the night after the commotion from both dressing rooms has long since subsided, he asses his situation again. The calm acceptance of earlier in the day is gone as he realizes that while his clothes may be a lot cleaner nowadays and he has a healthier appearance than he's had in a long time, he still can't manage to shower on a daily basis depending on his and the arenas schedules. He has limited funds for basic necessities, but that still consists mainly of bread and soups, still augmented only at times with canned or sliced meats. Fruits are still a luxury item, as is being the first owner of any clothing, underwear included. If a baby can live quietly hidden in a draughty arena on a bed made of stolen towels and shredded newspaper, wear previously worn diapers and eat frugally off of dented-specials and value brand cans of soup and low grade meat then he's all set for fatherhood. Otherwise he's completely screwed.
[to be continued]