Lyle's Eighteenth Birthday

This is the first story I have ever written, and as such, I would deeply appreciate any feedback, positive or negative. Please take a moment to write me at sr4172@yahoo.ca, and share with me your opinions about my writing. Also, if possible, please include your age, and maybe a little bit about yourself so that I will have a frame of reference for reading your comments.

My name is Sean Fletcher, and I am seventeen years old. I live with my two parents and younger sister. The only thing you need to know about me is that I am interested in things dealing with the past. My own ancestry and the history of a country are two subjects that I am always willing to attack with vigour. I would like to begin with an extract from my own journal.

Friday, January 12, 2232

I was not feeling well today, and as a result I missed school. I did not have a problem with this since I did not enjoy most of my courses. Unfortunately, I missed history, the only class that I approach with great enthusiasm.

I needed something to do to pass my time, and for whatever reason, I decided to explore the attic. Because of all the dust, I began sneezing almost immediately, but I did not give up. It was full of boxes, chests, and other old things that nobody would ever need.

As I was looking around, I noticed a box sitting by itself in a corner. It seemed to have collected more dust than anything else, but despite this had a life to it. The box had many dents and markings, each probably with a wonderful story behind it. But my imagination was running wild.

There was no point in opening it, it probably just contained some old clothes. I approached it anyway. Through the dust, I could see a name written on top of it - Francine Taylor. It belonged to someone on my mothers' side of the family, someone I had never met. I remember her mentioning that way back somewhere, the name of her ancestors was Taylor.

The box was obviously quite old, and I was assured that it did not contain old clothes. Unfortunately, it was not mine to open, and I chose to wait and talk to my mother about it when she got home.

Even though she enjoyed her job, she was usually tired when she arrived home.

"Mom!" I yelled, when I heard her come through the door. I ran downstairs.

"Hi honey," she said. "I see you're feeling much better!"

"Yes, yes, great. Mom, I was in the attic today, and I saw this box with someone's name on it, Francine Taylor. I wanted to open it, but I thought I should ask you first."

"Oh, yes. She lived long ago, almost two hundred years I think. That box was hers, she used it to keep her very personal things. She passed it down to her children, and they kept passing it down until it came to me. Nobody ever opened it though. I can't imagine why though, I would have assumed her children at least would have, but they didn't."

"Well can I open it then?"

"Sure, I don't see the harm."

"Thanks mom!" Like a child running to get a new toy to play with, I ran up to the box. I blew on it to try and get some of the dust off, and then carried it down to my room.

As soon as I put it down, I opened it, and started looking through it. The contents contained many journals, and a couple of photo albums. The journals interested me the most. I quickly flipped through a few of them, and found that they did not all belong to Francine. Some of them belonged to someone named Lyle Kingsley, and others belonged to someone named Patrick Wells. I could not wait to find out what they contained, and I began reading them, taking a break only to write in my own journal.

I spent that entire weekend reading the journals I had found. There was one incident that occurred around Lyle Kingsley's eighteenth birthday that I found fascinating, mainly for personal reasons, and I plan to re-tell it using a combination of his, and Patrick Wells' words.

The three people involved in the story are Lyle Kingsley, Patrick Wells, and of course Francine Taylor. All of their accounts are very detailed, so I should have no problem telling the story accurately.

I now beseech you, the reader, to forget about me for now, and experience the story through the eyes of the individuals who lived it.

My name is Patrick Wells. I would like to share with you an experience that changed my life, and changed the life of someone I care about deeply. Because of my feelings towards this person, I decided that the best way to share this experience would be through his words, which I have obtained from a journal he kept. I have published only the entries pertaining to the summer of his eighteenth birthday, but a short introduction is necessary to properly understand where he is coming from. From an early age, Lyle Kingsley has always been very shy. Obviously, this made it extremely difficult for him to make friends. To make matters worse, his shyness was often interpreted (even I thought that this was the case) as him being unfriendly, and not wanting to make friends. And so Lyle spent his time in ways that did not involve other people. He spent a lot of time studying; he was at the top of his class. From the time he was little, his favourite hobby has always been reading, and this developed into writing short stories, all of which are quite good. He also thoroughly enjoys swimming. He has his own pool and so he can do so whenever he pleases. This may sound rather depressing, it is hard for one to imagine a life without friends, but after getting to know him I found that with him, it was almost the exact opposite. He did of course long for company, but he was a private person by nature, and so most of the time, he preferred doing things on his own. He was an only child and so his parents lavished him with attention and money. Surprisingly, he did not turn into a spoilt brat. His parents owned a large business together, and they were very hard working, and ran their business with a lot of integrity. This made them excellent role models for Lyle, and their ethics rubbed off on their son, whom they were very proud of. Him and his parents lived in high society, and this caused him to be a bit of a snob (something I too am guilty of). He attended private schools, enjoyed meals at high-class restaurants and shopped in the best stores. But even this was not all bad. He had impeccable manners that allowed him to get along well with his parents friends. When he was a bit older, he felt right at home entertaining his parents' guests who would come for dinner, or attending a party full of adults. At the age of seventeen, Lyle was becoming quite handsome. He had short blonde hair, which he used a lot of gel in (as is the style nowadays). His bright, blue eyes added a splash of colour to his face. Being 5'2", he was a little short for his age, but still handsome. He was not muscular, but having very little fat kept his body well defined. His looks combined with his exquisite taste in clothes, and good manners made him very attractive to women, but he never mustered up the courage to talk to one, and, except for one time, it did not happen the other way around either. This also did not bother him quite so much, because he was attracted to people of both genders, but his attraction to boys was much stronger. In one of his entries, he described what he deemed to be a perfect boy.

What I truly see myself falling in love with is a young boy. Blonde hair, blue eyes, red lips and perfectly smooth skin are possessions that I see in someone I could spend my life with. Of course features should complement one another to render the boy handsome. I have the features I desire, but they do not come together to form beauty.

He was wrong about that last statement, but we shall get into that later. The story will starts with Lyle at age seventeen, on his last day of school.

Friday, June 24th, 2001

In my entire life, I have never had such a horrible a day as today. I arrived home after school to find my house in a blaze. My parents were standing outside, watching, while my mother cried. The firemen were frantically trying to put out the fire, but it did not look like there would be much left at the end. I ran up to my parents and asked what happened.

"Oh it's all my fault!" Exclaimed our cook, Marie. She too was in tears. "I was cooking, and suddenly it caught fire, and, and I couldn't stop it! I panicked!" She could hardly make out her words.

"Marie, Marie, it was an accident, it's not your fault." I then went to console my mother. My father could not handle them both at the same time, and he was trying his best to make sure they both kept their cool. A few hours later, the fire had been put out, and none of our possessions survived. This, I was not too concerned about. Practically everything could be purchased again. Unfortunately, we had things in the house handed down to my parents from far off generations, and I had the journal that I have been keeping for two years. I have been using my journal to record my experiences and feelings, and so what I wrote in it is irreplaceable.

"The only thing we have left is a car," my mother said, still sobbing.

"Your car," my father added, handing me a set of keys. "It was for your birthday, it's that luxury sport utility you wanted. Your aunt and uncle were bringing it by for us tonight." They arrived not too long after and drove us to their place. When we got there, I discovered that my parents had already planned what was going to be happening for the rest of the summer.

"We hadn't told you yet," said my father, "because we only found out today. Something urgent came up with the business today, and your mother and I have to go out of town to take care of it. We'll be gone for three months, so we can't take you up to the cottage this year. You can stay here with Linda and George, or you can go up by yourself if you like."

Lyle's parents owned a beautiful summer cottage that was on a private beach with a large lake. The cottage was beautiful. It was equipped with a swimming pool, a gym, a sauna, a tennis court, a squash court, and many other amenities. His parents took him up there every summer for at least a month.

I was devastated that I was not going to the cottage with my parents.

"What about our house? And all of our things?"

"Linda and George are taking care of it for us. Your mother and I are going to Paris, we're planning to shop there. Our house will be re-built as quickly as possible. We're giving you money so that you can go shopping to replace everything of yours that perished."

Saturday, June 25th, 2001

I got up early this morning to take my parents to the airport. I still had only my school uniform to go shopping in, but it did not look so much like a uniform without the tie. The remainder was grey pants, a black jacket with my school's crest and a white dress shirt. Except for the crest, it was not so bad.

I have always enjoyed shopping, but only when I was in the mood. I was certainly not in the mood today, but I did not have a choice. I simply decided to make the most of it.

I knew I would have to get everything done as quickly as possible, since I did not want to return to the mall after that day, and so I made sure to arrive at the mall as soon as it opened. Luckily, the mall had everything I needed, so there was no driving around. First, I went to an electronics store and bought a laptop, a digital camera, a Palm Pilot and a walkman. Just my luck, I had left all those things at home that day because I did not need them on my last day of school. I bought a new cellular phone - not that I ever had anyone to call, but there was no phone at the cottage and so I needed one in case of an emergency. I then bought luggage, I needed a suitcase and a duffel bag for my summer at the cottage.

Clothes took the longest. Nothing had been salvaged, and so I needed everything. I had to buy boxer shorts and socks. I purchased a number of dress shirts, suits and ties for formal occasions. For the cottage I needed swimming trunks, t-shirts, sandals, running shoes, sweat pants, sweaters and a fall jacket. I spotted a winter jacket that I liked, so I bought it, even though I did not need it immediately. I needed casual clothes for activities like shopping, and so I bought some khaki pants. I found a pair of sunglasses that I liked much nicer than my old ones. My watch was fine, but I bought a new one anyway.

I managed to find a leather journal that I liked, and I had it monogrammed. I also required a new fountain pen to write in it with. I bought my aunt and uncle a crystal vase to thank them for their hospitality.

I bought most of these items from a department store, and as a result, I tired out the poor sales associate who assisted me. She was very patient though, so to thank her I bought her a bottle of perfume. Thinking back, I was probably a little extravagant. It took three sales associates to help me carry everything to my car. Luckily, I finished before the store closed.

When I arrived back at my aunt and uncle's house, they confessed that they were worried about what had happened to me. They had not expected me to take so long and they were calling the phone that had burned in the fire, so obviously there was no answer.

Even though I was exhausted, they made me show them everything I had bought. I did not mind though. They were a wonderful couple who were married very recently, and they both had a wonderful sense of humour. They were the closest to my age of all my aunts and uncles and so I felt more at ease with them than with any of the others. They thanked me profusely for the vase, telling me that it was their pleasure to have me staying with them.

After dinner, I sorted through everything I bought, putting what I needed for the cottage into a suitcase. Whatever I did not need I was leaving at their house. I looked through my schoolbag and I found my journal. I usually did keep it with me, but for some reason I thought that I had left it at home that day. This cheered me up, as my journal is something very precious to me that I would never want to lose.

Unfortunately, what I did not have copies of were the short stories I had written. They were all stored on my computer, and I could never get them back.

Sunday, June 26th, 2001

I woke up early again, this time because I had to leave for the cottage. It was a rather long drive, and I had to buy groceries along the way, so I had to leave as early as possible. My aunt and uncle told me to return whenever I wanted, and to call when I arrived.

The last thing I felt like doing was shopping again, but the previous day I had forgotten to buy books. I bought as many as I thought I would need, and then I bought groceries. What I bought consisted mostly of frozen foods, but also included some ingredients for cooking actual meals.

I arrived in good time, and I promptly phoned my aunt, put away the groceries and unpacked. I took the new equipment I had bought to the study (where there was a high-speed internet connection) and opened it all up. I sent a message to my parents telling them where I was and giving them the number to my new phone.

Monday, June 27th, 2001

All of the stress of the past few days caught up with me and I slept most of the day. When I woke up, I had a shower, put on a pair of swimming trunks and had breakfast. I then took a long swim in the lake, and then decided to go to bed after writing in my new journal.

Tuesday, June 28th, 2001

I caught up on my sleep rather quickly, and so I managed to wake up early this morning. I got out of bed, and then realized that I had not bothered changing clothes last night, I was still wearing the swimming trunks I swam in yesterday. I took them off and looked at myself in the full-length mirror I had in the room.

The first thing I noticed was the hair on my body. There was not a lot - I had just a few thin hairs on my legs and just a little bit of pubic hair. I looked at myself and hoped that no more would grow, I thought I looked quite nice without a lot of hair all over me.

I took a quick shower and put on sun block on. There was nobody around to put any on my back, but I did the best I could. I dressed in swimming trunks, a t-shirt and sandals, and then ate a quick breakfast. I made some sandwiches for lunch and took them down to the beach with my towel and a book.

I was not really in the mood for swimming, so I lay down on a beach chair and started reading. The book was not very good, so my mind wandered and I began thinking of other ways to amuse myself. I put the book down, and looked around. I was used to my parents being there, but this time they were not, and being a private beach there was nobody else around either. I sat up a little to take my shirt off, and then I put it down beside me. I lay back down and closed my eyes. An image of a young and beautiful boy dressed only in a pair of boxer shorts came into my mind. He was lying down on my bed, with his knees in the air and his eyes closed. I massaged my left nipple while I walked up to the boy lying on the bed. It quickly hardened, as did my penis. I slowly ran my hand down my stomach, and then into my shorts, withdrawing it just as it touched the base of my penis.

I felt the boys' nipples, and then I took off his shorts, and for a minute, did nothing but stare at him. His skin was perfectly smooth, with no hair or imperfections of any kind. His penis was sticking straight up in the air, and his eyes remained closed, as if he was waiting for me to do something. I spread his legs, and the rested my hands on his waist. Without any hesitation, I took his penis into my mouth, and stroked the rest of it with my hand. He moaned as I pleasured him, until he exploded and my mouth filled with warm cum. I opened my eyes and was still holding onto my penis. There was cum running down it, and some had sprayed onto my arm. I got up and went over to the lake. I did not have soap with me, but I made do without it and managed to get all of the ejaculate off myself. When I was finished, lay on the beach chair and fell asleep while the sun dried me off. When I woke up, swam again, ate and then went back to the cottage. It was still early, and so I watched a movie that was playing on television. I thought that I would be bored coming up alone to the cottage, but I was quite mistaken. In previous years, my parents and I would swim, watch movies and play games together, but being here without them is not as bad as I had anticipated.

Wednesday, June 29th, 2001

I heard the unmistakable sound of rain when I woke up this morning. This was unfortunate because I especially felt like relaxing on the beach that day.

I had to substitute the lake for the swimming pool, but I still enjoyed myself. I took a much longer swim than I usually did, and with that I managed to pass a lot of time. After showering, I had breakfast, and decided to check my e-mail. I had only one message from my parents. They told me that their trip was going well, and that they wanted to know how I was doing. I replied and told them that I was having a good time. I went back up to my room, lay down on my bed and began reading a new book. This one was much better than the one I had started originally, and so it kept me entertained for considerable longer. When I stopped reading, my mind went back to boys. I pulled down my shorts and began stroking my penis. Suddenly, there was a clap of thunder, and startled, I stopped masturbating. I quickly realized that it was just thunder, and I looked at my hard penis sticking up in the air. The tip had become a little wet, and I wondered what it would taste like. I touched my index finger to the tip and put it in my mouth. I tasted a little salty, but sweet at the same time. I began rubbing my penis again, and I soon had an orgasm. A large amount of the ejaculation ended up on my hand, and I used my mouth to clean it off. I received a big surprise when I licked it. It tasted nothing like the little bit I enjoyed earlier. It was in fact quite vile. It does not taste the same in large amounts. I finished cleaning myself off in the bathroom, and then went downstairs for a snack.

Thursday, June 30th, 2001

I was glad to see the sun shining this morning. After eating a quick breakfast and making lunch I hurried down to the beach. When I arrived at the beach, I had a sudden urge to go skinny dipping. I quickly shed my clothes and dove into the lake. When I was tired, I lay down on the beach chair, and took a nap. I do not know how long I was asleep for, but when I opened my eyes, someone was staring down at me.

"Ah!" I shouted as I fell off the chair. I frantically grabbed my shorts, and held them in front of me when I stood up. The person was a boy around my age and height. I looked at him, and became hard. He had wavy blonde hair; and blue eyes that shone with the sun. His features all complemented each other to make him very handsome. He had bare feet, and was wearing red swimming trunks and a white t-shirt.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you. My name's Patrick."

"Do you think you could turn around for a minute?" I asked him. He did and I quickly got dressed.

"I'm Lyle Kingsley. This is a private beach you know?"

"Yes I know. I'm staying at the cottage almost directly across the lake. You can't see it from here. I was out on my boat and it ran out of petrol. I saw your cottage and I paddled here, I was hoping I could borrow some."

"Oh, I'm afraid I don't have any, but I could drive you to the store to get some."

"That's very kind, but I don't want to put you out. It's a two-hour drive to the nearest town. I'll just paddle back."

"No, I insist. I need to pick up some things anyway." That was a lie but I did not want to pass up the chance to spend an afternoon with him. This time I met someone on my territory, and this increased my confidence and I was more assertive than usual.

Luckily, he did not mention his finding me naked. If he had, I would have been very embarrassed, and not enjoyed being with him. He had looks and a tasteful sense of humour - he was becoming more and more appealing to me. Most people I know would have made many distasteful jokes by now.

"I'll take you up on your offer if it isn't any trouble. I don't want to spoil your afternoon."

The long drive gave us a lot of time to talk and get to know each other. Because I am timid, Patrick did most of the talking. I did not mind this at all - I thoroughly enjoyed getting to know him.

"What I wouldn't give to be able to stay in our cottage alone!" He said after I told him that I was alone at mine. "Don't get me wrong, I love my family, it's just that its nice to be alone, or even just with friends sometimes."

"I know what you mean. Being here alone has been great. It's nice being able to do whatever you want without worrying about other people."

"I could see that," he said, smirking. All right so he made one small joke, but I was somehow very comfortable with him, and it did not embarrass me.

"Well there's never anybody around, like I said the whole place is private, and people only come in on Saturday's to clean." I do not know why I felt I needed to defend what I was doing, but it seemed the right thing to say at the time.

We ended up getting along well, but it all ended when we got back to his boat. He filled it up, and then got in it.

"I really need to be getting back, my parents are probably very worried."

"Yes I imagine they would be, I'll see you around I guess."

"Yeah, we'll see." He revved his engine and sped off. He was finally gone! Not that I wanted him to leave, but I do not think I could have controlled myself for much longer. I did not bother leaving the beach. I took off my clothes, lay on the sand and masturbated while thinking of Patrick.

"You've done it again Lyle," I said to myself, when I finished pleasuring myself. I should have invited him to stay with me, or at least to come over sometime. I had the entire summer to spend here, but I had nothing to do.

Friday, June 30th, 2001

I climbed up to bed naked, and simply collapsed on top. I did not bother with the covers, the warm summer weather kept me very comfortable.

The touch of a hand on my bare shoulder woke me up around two in the morning. I woke up, and saw a figure staring down at me. It was dark, and I could not see who it was.

"Wh-, who are you?" I whispered. I could not see a thing, and I was terrified as I had no idea who this person was. The hand lifted off my shoulder.

"It's me, Patrick." I was relieved and surprised at the same time. At least it was not someone trying to rob me. Upon hearing his name, I became aware of the fact that I was naked. I did not move, hoping that he could not see that I had no clothes on.

"Patrick? How did you get in?"

"The front door was open."

"It was? I must have forgotten to lock it, but what are you doing here?"

"Something happened, and I need somewhere to spend the night, and, and I have nowhere else to go. I was hoping it would be all right with you if I stayed, just for tonight."

From the sound of his voice, it seemed that he was about to start crying. I got out of bed and put on the shorts I had thrown on the floor earlier.

"Patrick, of course you can stay, but is everything alright?" He thought for a minute, and then answered,

"no."

"Well then what happened?"

"Well my parents found, well it didn't exactly happen that way. They, they sort of, umm, actually Lyle, its kind of personal and-"

"Say no more. If you don't feel comfortable telling me than don't. Look it's late and you must be exhausted. You can have the room next to mine. I'll just go and get linen; I'll be right back. In the meantime you can go and get yourself settled. Do you need clothes or anything?"

"No, I brought all my stuff. It's downstairs near the front door, I'll go bring it." I went to fetch linen for him and he went to get his things. I met him back in the bedroom and we began making the bed together.

"By the way Patrick, how did you get here?"

"I brought my boat."

"In the middle of the night? Isn't that dangerous?"

"Look the last thing I need is another lecture! I didn't have a choice; I couldn't have gotten here any other way! I didn't bring my car to the cottage! Just mind your own business ok?"

"Alright Patrick, I'm sorry." Normally, I would not put up with an almost complete stranger breaking into my house and then yelling at me, but something was obviously wrong with him and I did not want to make matters worse by engaging in a conflict. I thought that the best thing to do would be to leave him alone; I hoped that he would be ready to talk when he woke up in the morning. "If you get hungry, you can help yourself to anything in the kitchen. There's a bathroom through that door, and I'm right next door if you need anything."

I said those words sternly, but I tried to maintain an air of hospitality. "Good night Patrick." I began walking away.

"Wait Lyle." I turned around to see him wiping away a tear. "I had no right to yell at you like that I'm sorry. Please don't be angry with me. I've just had a horrible day, I'm not thinking straight, and, and I shouldn't have even come here and bothered you, I think it's best if I leave. I'm sorry, I'm really sorry I just didn't know what else to do. I mean I don't have anyone who can help me through this, and it isn't like I expected you to but I just needed to get away but I couldn't go anywhere in the middle of the night and so I came here and all I wanted-"

I thought that this was a good place to interrupt him. He was becoming hysterical. I went up to him and held him by the shoulders.

"Patrick, you came to the right place. You can stay here as long as you need to, and you have me to help you through this, whatever 'this' is. Now, just try to get some sleep." He climbed into bed, and I turned out the light.

"Remember, my room is right next door. If you need anything at all, don't hesitate to ask. Good night."

"Thank-you Lyle, good night to you as well."

I got back to my room, and obviously Patrick was the only thing I could think about. I thought about how wonderful it would be if he stayed for the rest of the summer - but of course this was very selfish of me. I knew that they best thing for him would be to get whatever it was that happened resolved and return to his parents. I could not, however, get him out of my mind. I wanted him more than anything, and it took all of my self control not to run into his room, jump on the bed, take the covers off him, take his shirt off, take his-well, there is no need for me to get carried away.

Saturday, July 1, 2001

I had to wake up at five this morning to get things ready for the cleaners. This meant waking up Patrick as well. I opened his door as quietly as I could and walked in. He was sleeping like a baby, curled up underneath the covers and breathing softly. I did not have the heart to wake him, yet I had no choice.

I went up to him and gently touched his shoulder.

"Patrick," I whispered. "Patrick its Lyle, you have to wake up." This did nothing, I needed to be slightly louder.

"Patrick," I whispered again, "wake up Patrick." I shook him a little. He finally woke up. "I'm sorry to wake you, but the cleaners are coming in an hour. We have to be out of here."

"What?" He asked in a daze. I explained to him that every Saturday people came in to clean the cottage.

"You're saying that we have to leave because servants are coming? Isn't this your place?"

"That's not the point," I said, becoming annoyed with his attitude. If it was not enough that he broke in and disturbed me in the middle of the night, he was now arguing when I said we had to leave. "They say that we get in the way, and that they can do a better job when we're not in the house. I know it's dumb. God only knows what they need the house to themselves for, but the point is they do a good job and we've never had anything stolen. It's just for a few hours, get up and get dressed."

"Oh Lyle no, I'm so tired, they can clean around me."

"Alright that's enough!" I yelled. "First I drive you to get petrol for your boat and you didn't even thank me. Then you walk into my house in the middle of the night telling me you need a place to stay, and then telling me to mind my own business when I ask you what's wrong! On top of that you won't even get up when I'm saying that you have to! I want you out of this house in ten minutes, and I want you and your boat off my property in fifteen!"

My anger towards him faded after that release, and I returned to my room. But then I felt much worse, and I sat down on my bed. Something pretty bad had happened to him, which is why he was acting this way. I should have remembered that and been more kind. Even if he was taking advantage of me, he obviously needed help, and he had not done anything really that bad.

He was reading my mind at that moment, and he walked into my room wearing only a pair of boxer shorts. This was the first time I saw him almost completely naked. His build and mine are very similar - slender, but well toned.

"Lyle," he said. "Lyle I'm sorry. I am under a lot of stress right now, and I haven't been able to think straight, but that's no excuse for my rudeness. I--I owe you an explanation of, well, everything, but like I said before, its very personal, and I'm not ready to share it with anybody. To be perfectly honest, you're the best friend I've ever had. I don't know anybody who would have put up with everything I've done to you in the past couple of days. I'm sorry that I haven't been treating you with the same amount of respect-"

"Patrick that's enough, really. I hardly know you, and I'm not putting up with what you've been doing. I understand that you're going through something, and if you can't, or don't want to tell me, or whatever, I understand that too." I stood up before continuing. "My parents taught me to always help people in need, and I'm going to do my best to continue helping you. If you need something from me, just ask. If you need to stay with me, or you need a lift to get petrol for your boat, or whatever, I'm happy to do it for you. If you choose to be rude and not even thank me, then there is nothing I can do about that. But when I ask you to do something like what I asked this morning, I expect not to be argued with. If you think you can manage that, you have forty-five minutes to get all your things and leave, or unpack your things, have a shower and get dressed."

"Yes, I can manage that. Thank-you." He left, and I was very pleased with myself. I was not trying to make him feel bad, but I wanted him to understand my position.

Three quarters of an hour later, Patrick was waiting for me at the front door.

"I thought we could drive into town and get some breakfast, that would give them enough time to finish, how does that sound?"

"It sounds great, but I'll have to go change, I'm wearing swimming trunks."

"Yes, well they aren't here yet, take your time." He went to change, and the cleaners arrived. I told them to make up the guest room properly, and then Patrick and I left. For the first few minutes of the drive, none of us said anything until Patrick spoke.

"You must think I'm a horrible person Lyle, but I'm really not. I, I didn't mean to be so rude, I really didn't. You've been great to me, and-"

"I don't think you're a horrible person." I was interrupting him quite a lot today. "I know that something's going on with you, so you're excused."

"My parents and I had a really big fight, and it was obvious that it was not going to get settled anytime soon. It's what we fought about that's really personal, but I can assure you that it is entirely their fault. Anyway, we all thought it best if we lived apart for the summer. None of us would have a good time at the cottage or back at home with each other around, so my parents told me that I could stay at the cottage with my brothers or they would. I obviously didn't want to spend the summer babysitting, so they said they would drive me home the next morning."

"Yet you're here with me," I said.

"Yes, after we came to that agreement, we resumed our fight. The drive back is six hours long, and fighting with my parents in a car for six hours, well none of us would survive it. Anyway our argument became more and more heated, until I could not take it anymore. I told them that I was going to bed, and I snuck out, took the boat and left."

"You just left? Without telling them? I know you were mad, but still they're going to be very worried about you. I have a phone here, why don't you call them and tell them you're alright?"

"They don't care if I'm alright! If I died they would probably throw a party. I'm not calling them."

"Patrick! How can you say a thing like that? They're your parents. What if I call them for you? I don't have to tell them who I am or where you are. I'll just say that I'm a friend, and you're with me and you're alright, and that I'm just calling so that they wouldn't worry."

"No, look, that's very nice but I don't want to get you involved."

"I'm already involved. You're staying with me remember? Now listen, one of us is calling your parents. If you refuse, I'll drive over there and tell them personally."

"Alright fine!" He agreed to my calling them, and I did.

"Your mum was crying in the background," I said. "I mean was that because she found out that you're alive and well? Anyway, it was your father I spoke to. He said that your mother and he want you to come home; they want to speak to you. He didn't say what about, so I still don't know. He also said that if you're not ready to talk right away, then maybe in a few days. I promised to pass on the message."

"How long can I stay with you?" He asked me. I did not know what to tell him. I hardly knew him, and if he turned out to be the person he had been acting like the past few days I certainly did not want him around.

"If you're implying permanence, absolutely not."

"Well, no, but I just wanted to know, I mean I want you to tell me because I don't want to ruin your vacation any more than I have already, and I will leave as soon as you want me to."

"For now, its fine. Stay a few days, cool off and think about what it is you want. After that, you'll have to make a decision about talking to your parents."

"Thanks Lyle," he said. "If there's any way I can pay you back for all this,"

"We'll worry about that when an opportunity comes along, but I need to know something first. That first day we met, I had a really good time. I mean we drove together for four hours, and I don't know about you but it hardly seemed like anything because I enjoyed talking to you. Then when you came again, I was happy because I thought it would give us a chance to know each other better, so basically what I'm saying is that I think of you as a friend. If you don't feel the same way about me, and you're just here with me because you need a place to stay, I want you to tell me. But before you answer, even if that is the reason, I won't kick you out, and I won't be mad. The way you've been acting makes me think that that's why you're here with me right now. I'll stop talking now and let you say something."

"I had a lot of fun as well. I promise I'll be a better guest from now on and I'm sure we'll enjoy living together."

"I'm glad to hear you say that." We conversed pleasantly for the remainder of the drive, and Patrick insisted on paying for breakfast and whatever groceries that we needed. He even filled up my car for me. I explained that it was not necessary, but he was adamant about it. I suppose he is in fact a good person, and whatever it is that he was going through is what caused him to act the way he did.

After eating, we did not feel like heading back, and decided to stay in town and go watch a film. We could not do this since the cinema did not open until later, and so we just headed back.

The conversation on the way back was non-existent, but this time it was me who broke the ice.

"So you mentioned brothers?"

"Yes, I have two."

"How old are they?"

"One is 13 and the other 14. Actually, they're not really my brothers. They're both adopted."

"I see," I said.

"Yeah, they're really cool though. They fight a lot and get on everyone's nerves sometimes, but when they're not fighting they get along really well together and they're funny and love to fool around. Not to get demeaning but they're like dogs somewhat."

"I know what you mean," I said, chuckling.

"Tell me about your parents." I figured out pretty quickly that he did not need a lot of stimulation to get him talking, and so short phrases such as that one would do just fine.

"Well I don't know about my parents. I love them a lot. They pretty much let me do what I want, just as long as they know that I'm not getting into trouble and keeping my grades up. We get along really well too, except for this last incident. What are yours like?"

"To tell you the truth they aren't very different. They own a business together and so they're always extremely busy. We always came down to the cottage together during the summer. That was the most time we've ever spent together, but they couldn't make it this year." I went on to explain what happened with the fire and my parents' trip.

"We do that too," he said, "except we only come for a week. This year though, my parents planned to stay for the whole summer, and look what happened!"

"It's a shame," I said. "This thing that happened, if you were to tell me what it was, would there be something I can do to help it get resolved?"

"No, I don't think so."

"You know, if you did tell me, I promise to keep it a secret. I mean there isn't even anybody that I would want to tell anyway.

"It isn't that," he said. "I want to tell you, and I've been waiting for the right time. I mean I guess it isn't that big a deal, but it's hard for me to say."

"Alright, I won't bring it up again then. Just make sure that when you're ready you do tell me."

"Thanks Lyle."

We got back to the cottage, and Patrick helped me check that everything had been done properly.

"So, what do you want to do for the rest of the day?" I asked him. He removed his shirt, and said,

"How about a swim?" We changed, went down to the beach and swam. Patrick was still a child at heart, and this made the experience a lot of fun. We splashed around, tried to hold each other under water and tried to out-swim each other.

It did not take us long to tire ourselves out, and we got out of the lake. I watched him come out, and my eyes were fixed his wet trunks sticking to his body.

"I have a sauna, and a hot tub," I said.

"Sauna. I think I've had enough water today." We went to the sauna, and again nobody said anything for a while.

"By the way, I have a computer in the study, with internet, so if you ever want to check e-mail, you can go ahead. There's also a television in the recreation room, with a billiards table and table tennis. We have a tennis court in the back as well. So as you can see, lot's to do."

"Yeah, that all sounds great! I don't think you'll ever get rid of me!" I let out a little laugh. I had not yet decided if this is something wanted or not. When we tired of the sauna, we went back and prepared dinner together. Neither of us bothered changing, and so I was able to stare at his naked upper body the whole time. After dinner, we watched a movie. Afterwards, Patrick went to bed and I decided to write in my journal.

Sunday, July 2, 2001

I woke up just two hours after I went to bed last night, and could not get back to sleep. I decided to go and send a message to my parents, telling them about Patrick. They would not mind him staying with me, but they would definitely prefer to hear it from me and not from the servants.

I climbed down the stairs, and saw a light on in the study.

"Did I leave it on before I went to bed?" I asked myself. I could not remember, but I assumed that I had. I opened the door, and Patrick was sitting on the desk, reading something. He looked up, saw me, and slammed my journal shut.

"Lyle! Hi," he said. His voice was full of guilt. "Did I wake you Lyle? I'm sorry, I just came down to check my e-mail, and I couldn't figure out how your computer worked." I could not believe what he was down here doing. Both my old one and my new one were on the desk, but I do not know how much he got through. Tears began to form in my eyes, and as much as I tried, I could not hold them back.

"You have to open the computer first," I said, my voice a little shaky. My new laptop was sitting closed on the desk.

"Oh," he said. "I've never used one of these, these, what are they called again?" As coldly as I could manage, I replied

"Laptops."

"Yeah, right, laptops. But you know what? It's all right. It's late, and it can wait until tomorrow, or even the day after, I probably don't have anything important. So what did you come down for? Did you want to use the computer? I'll just get out of your way then." He stood up, but walked slowly towards the doorway because that is where I was standing.

I did not know what to do. I needed time to think of how I wanted to thandle this, ut I did not have time. I had to do something, or not do anything. Whichever I chose, it had to be carried out immediately.

"How much did you read Patrick?"

"Read? Oh nothing, I've read all the books in this room." I was in no mood to beat around the bush with this issue, but at the same time I wanted to delay finding out how much he had read.

"There are hundreds of books in this study, and you mean to tell me you've read them all?"

"Lyle I didn't know what it was, it was just on the desk, and it's very nice, I just opened it to see what it was. As soon as I figured out it was your journal, I stopped."

"It seemed like you were reading it when I came in."

"Well I was, but you didn't let me finish. I really did stop, because I knew that it was personal, and I had no business reading it. But then I was curious as to how you really felt about my staying here with you, and I thought you might have written something about it. See I was going to leave if you really didn't want me here and were just letting me stay to be nice."

"Did you get your answer?"

"Yes," he said, and then swallowed. My tears began flowing faster. I cannot recall a time I have ever been so embarrassed. Despite that, I knew that I had to handle this situation and keep my dignity at the same time.

"If you stick around and read tomorrow's entry," I said, "the answer might change." I turned around and was about to leave when he called my name.

"Lyle," he said. "Lyle wait."

"What now?" I said, making my irritation obvious.

"I'm not asking to stay or anything, but please don't be mad, I didn't mean any harm."

"You didn't mean any harm? No of course you didn't because going through my personal things would not be harmful. I have never been so embarrassed, or felt so betrayed in my entire life. I suggest you make up with your parents, and soon, because I do not wish to see you or any of your things when I wake up tomorrow."

"Ly-"

"Good night!" I turned around and walked out. He called my name again but I ignored him. I walked quickly up to my room with my head high in the air, but as soon as I closed the door, I fell down, and cried myself to sleep on the floor.

When I woke up, my entire body was sore. I decided to use the hot tub. I went downstairs, and when I passed by the kitchen I saw Patrick in it.

"What the hell are you still doing here?"

"Lyle I have nowhere to go. I--I hoped you would have changed your mind by this morning. Please give me a chance to make it up to you."

"No. Get out." I walked away and got into the hot tub. A minute later, Patrick walked in.

"Please Lyle, I really don't have anywhere to go."

"Then you shouldn't have invaded my privacy."

"No, you're right, I shouldn't have, but really Lyle, I don't care if you're gay. You said yesterday that you were embarrassed, but you had nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I don't recall mentioning that I'm gay."

"Right, I meant bi-sexual. But I don't care, it doesn't change the way I see you at all. And I, of all people, should not have done what I did. My parents read my journal, and I have very personal things in it as well. That's what we fought about. I was angry at them for reading it, and they did not see what the big problem was." This caused me to start crying. This time, it was not just tears running down my face. I was actually crying.

"Then why did you do the same thing to me?"

"I don't know! I told you I was just curious, and it was wrong, but I did it. I wasn't thinking, I'm sorry. Look, I promise I'll make it up to you."

"How much exactly did you read?"

"Everything actually. I was re-reading one when you came in."

"Everything," I said quietly to myself. "That's just perfect."

"And you're not uncomfortable with your staying here?"

"No, why would I be?"

"Why would you be? So you didn't read everything."

"I did, and if you're attracted to me, then you're attracted to me." At that point, he was standing a small distance away from the hot tub. He approached from behind where I was sitting. "And maybe," he continued, "we can use that to your advantage." As soon as he said that, I felt is hands on my shoulders, and he began giving me a massage. He leaned over, and while doing so, ran his hands down my chest, stomach, and then across my legs, stopping at the knees. He took his hands out, took off his shirt and sat opposite me. He spread my legs apart, and then took hold of my swimming trunks and removed them.

"Wait," I said. "You don't have to do this."

"I know," he replied. With his right hand, he began stroking my penis. He did it very slowly, and gently, and I closed my eyes. "Just guide me," he said.

"Faster, and harder please." He gradually increased the pace, stroking harder and harder, until I felt the seamen flying out of my penis. He removed his hand, and I opened my eyes. He stood up, and I saw his swimming trunks sticking to his erect penis.

"Would you like help with that?" I asked.

"With what?"

"Nothing."

"I'll go make breakfast." He was speaking very matter-of-factly, but I do not blame him. He must have been very uncomfortable with what he had just done. After he left, I went back to my room, took a shower and put on clean clothes. I returned to the kitchen just as he had gotten breakfast ready.

"You're quite a good cook," I said.

"Thank-you, it's a hobby. Do you cook?"

"Only easy things."

"I lied this morning, when I said I had nowhere to go. I, I'm going to return home. I've called a taxi already, I'm expecting it an about an hour. I lied because I didn't want to leave with us on bad terms."

"So you're leaving? Then why go through all the trouble?"

"Because, I actually do like you, and I feel terrible for what I've done."

"I want you to stay Patrick. Despite everything that's been going on, I have been having a lot of fun."

"I'm afraid it's too late to cancel the taxi, but what I could do is go home, and then drive back up here, that way I would have a car, and it would make things much easier for when I need to go home later, and I wouldn't have to ask you for rides anywhere."

"Alright, you don't have to of course, but if you want to, umm, would you like some company?"

"Yeah, come! It's so long I'll be bored to death if you don't."

We drove all day to get to his house, and then all night to get back to my cottage. I ended up driving the second half, because Patrick was falling asleep. I did not mind though. He had a BMW Z8, and so driving was a lot of fun. When we arrived back, he could hardly make it up the stairs by himself. I helped him into bed, and then came down to write.

Monday, July 3, 2001

In my entire life I have never been so happy. This does not mean that I have been running around like a giddy schoolgirl, but for once, I have some completeness in my life. I never realized the importance of having friends until now. I always thought that nothing could make me happier than getting good grades and writing, but falling in love is certainly above everything else.

I hardly had any need for sleep, and I woke up very early. I went for a long swim, and then took a long bath. By the time I was finished, Patrick was up and I offered to make breakfast. It was a beautiful day, and we spent the day swimming and sunbathing on the beach. He was not the least bit uncomfortable around me, despite what he had found out about my feelings towards him. I was glad for this, because if he was at all uncomfortable, I would have seen it and I would have felt embarrassed every time I was with him. Instead, the time passed very quickly, and the more time we spent with each other, the more our friendship grew.

Tuesday July 4, 2001

"There's something I have to tell you," Patrick said. We had eaten breakfast and were heading down to the beach.

"What is it?"

"Let's sit down first." I did not need to ask that. He was obviously telling me what happened between his parents and him. The warm, soft sand gave both of us a sense of comfort, and I'm sure this made it easier for him to open up. "I probably wouldn't have gotten so upset at my parents reading my journal if it wasn't for what's in it. Umm, well, its, I don't know how to say this."

"It's alright Patrick. If you can't tell me, then I can wait. Some other time will be fine."

"No, no I want to tell you. Basically, if you were to read it, you would find a lot of the same stuff as in yours." It took me a minute to understand exactly what he meant by this.

"You mean you're gay?"

"Well, yeah."

"Oh." I did not know what to say to this. There had to be more to the story, otherwise I'm sure he would have told me this earlier. "Well what did your parents say?"

"Well, they called me to talk to me, and they said they had found my journal and read it, and then they said that I should have talked to them about it."

"So they were ok with it?"

"I guess so, I mean they said they were, and they haven't given me reason to believe that they're not. I just got mad, and I started yelling at them, and the argument just escalated from there."

"Oh, well they said you should have talked to them about it, was it just that or was there something else?"

"It was just that, but ever since I discovered that I was gay, I had a hard time dealing with it. I never wanted to tell anybody, and denying it just put a lot of pressure on me. I've tried dating girls and stuff, hoping that it would just go away, and I've been miserable. That's the stuff they said I could have talked to them about."

"Well you're not the only one going through that."

"I know, but it can't be as bad for you, I mean you have so much going for you. The way you feel about writing I mean. You have something in your life. I have nothing."

"That can't be true, you have friends don't you? And family."

"Yeah, but it isn't the same."

"Yes it is the same. It's hard to keep it a secret because it becomes something you want to tell people, but don't because you don't know how they will react. Why don't you go over and talk to your parents later today. I'll come with you if you want. You know, if you hadn't been so stubborn, I would have let what you did ruin our relationship. You would have left and we probably would have never seen each other again. You shouldn't do the same thing with your parents."

"I don't know if I'm ready to talk to them yet, but I'm glad I'm here with you. I'm attracted to you as well."

"I noticed."

"How?"

"Well in the hot tub, when you had an erection. Any straight guy would have been disgusted after doing something like that."

"So you've known since then?"

"No. I just figured that you were sitting in a hot tub, the water was quite warm, and you were doing something sexual, so I assumed that's why it happened. See if you were gay I assumed you would have told me by then, so I gave up all hope."

"I'll take you up on the offer you made that day. Better late than never right?" As soon as he said this, I pushed him over so that he was lying down with his knees up in the air. I slowly pulled his legs out so he was lying flat, and then I lay on top of him, and started kissing him. I moved my body so that our erect penises were rubbing against each other. Our tongues caressed each other, and feeling his wet lips on mine was like a taste of heaven.

I stopped kissing his lips, and moved down to his neck. He had just showered, and he smelled like strawberries. I stopped kissing his neck and raised my body. I touched his left nipple with my hand, and then I furiously put my mouth over it and started sucking on it. While I was doing this, I moved my hands down the side of his upper body until they reached his shorts. I stopped kissing him, got off him and pulled his shorts off. His penis was sticking straight up in the air, and had a little bit of cum on the tip. I licked it off, and then explored the rest of it with my tongue. I saw that he could not control himself any longer, and I began to suck. His body moved up and down while I did it, and then he had an orgasm, filling my mouth with his warm cum.

He was not one for wasting time, and when I was finished, he jumped up and pushed me down on the sand. He quickly ripped off my shorts to reveal my erect penis, and he sucked hard, until I had an orgasm in his mouth.

He then lay down beside me, and put his hand on my stomach. I turned to him, looked into his eyes, and said the words

"I love you."

"Isn't that something you're supposed to say before sex?" He said. "That's what gets people in bed." I did not find humour in this.

"I'm thirsty," I said. "I'm going to get something to drink." I quickly pulled on my shorts and ran back to the cottage. I did not bother with the fridge but went straight to my parents' liquor cabinet. I had never drunk before, but I saw this as a good time to start. I got out a bottle of vodka and went to find a glass.

"What's the big deal?" Patrick said coming in behind me. "Lighten up ok? You take everything way too seriously you know?"

"I do, do I?" I put the bottle and the glass down. "You're right. All I did was tell you that I loved you, that isn't something that should be taken seriously is it?"

"That's not what I meant ok? But come on, if I don't say it back then you don't have to get all upset. I was just making a joke, you were supposed to laugh."

"You call that a joke? You're an idiot Patrick. It wasn't at all funny; maybe that's why I didn't laugh. I was trying to have a serious conversation."

"You're always trying to have a serious conversation! You're an old man! I read your journal ok? You think you don't have friends because you're shy? You don't have any friends because of the way you dress, and the way you act. You're seventeen. You're supposed to be partying, and, I don't know, drinking!" He pointed at the bottle on the counter when he said that. "Even my dad is cooler than you are! He loosens up once in a while!" I was trying my best to hold back tears, but a few of them escaped, and I felt them running down my face. I was crying because Patrick was right, but I was not ready to acknowledge it.

"So what? What's wrong with being mature? So is that what you do? Party? Hang out with friends? I'd like to see how far that will get you. At least my life has meaning!"

"Meaning? What meaning? You write some stupid stories and you call that a life. Then I come along and you think 'oh look I have a friend. I'll tell him I love him!' You don't have a life, you're totally pathetic. Take my advice and loosen up. Seriously, otherwise you'll end up dying alone. Enjoy your summer." He walked off.

"Where are you going?" I yelled before he could leave the kitchen. "I'm going home. I'm going to get my things and I'm going home. I have friends there who I can have some fun with." He knew that I had nothing left to say, and so he left. I sat down at the table.

"He's right," I thought to myself. "Look at how I talk, and dress. Everybody wears a uniform, at my school, but some people have baggy pants, and earrings, and cool hair. I dress like an old man! And look at what I drive! I could have gotten any car I want and I got a car that I've only seen old people drive, and look at Patrick, he has a sports car. And with my free time, I write stupid stories, when I should be out watching movies and going to clubs. But what's wrong with what I do? I enjoy my life." That was when confusion kicked in. I did not know how I should have been, or what I wanted, or anything. I could not make a decision about whether or not he was right. I looked up and saw the vodka on the counter. Without thinking, I poured a rather large shot and gulped it down. I got a head rush, but felt fine immediately after. Just then, I heard Patrick bringing his suitcase down the stairs. I ran out to him.

"Patrick, Patrick wait, please don't go."

"Lyle, if I stay the same thing is going to happen again. This isn't going to work. You'll never be able to loosen up, and I can't deal with your seriousness all the time. It's best if I just leave."

"Fine!" I shouted. "If you feel that way than leave. I hope I never see you again." His face fell when I said that, but he continued on his way and left. The change of expression on his face took a minute to sink into my mind, and then I realized the mistake I had made. I ran upstairs, quickly put a shirt on, and ran outside. He was sitting in his car with the engine running, but he had not yet left. He looked nice sitting in his car. The top was down, and his blonde hair was flying with the wind, and the sunglasses he was wearing gave a sense of mystery to his face.

"Patrick wait!" I yelled.

"Thanks for your hospitality Lyle," he yelled back sarcastically. He waved, spun his tires and took off. I ran back to my car, started it up and drove after him. I had always been a very careful, and slow driver, and so I had never gotten a proper idea of how much power my car really had. I caught up to him quickly, and flashed my lights, indicating to him that I wanted him to pull over. He was not interested in talking to me, and he sped up. I followed him very closely through the curves of the twisted road. I decided to drive alongside him. I pressed the accelerator even harder, and went into the oncoming lane. It did not take long for me to match his speed. I opened my windows and looked at him.

"Can I please talk to you?" I shouted at him through the window. He suddenly had a horrified expression on his face, and he pointed ahead of him. I looked ahead, and there was a car speeding towards me. I did not have time to think, and the alcohol had dimmed all capacity. Instead of swerving to the right, I swerved to the left. I felt my car crashing through the guardrail, and then falling a short distance, for what seemed like an eternity.

When I woke up, I was lying in my bed. Patrick was sitting on a chair, looking at me. I suddenly felt a lot of pain in different places on my body.

"What happened?" I asked groggily. I did not have a hangover; I did not drink enough for that, so my head must have been hurting from the impact. Slowly, the events came back to me.

"My car! What happened to my car?"

"Shh, shh." Patrick said. He got up and gently put my had back on the pillow. "Don't worry about your car right now," he said. "Are you alright?"

"I'm in a lot of pain," I said.

"Where does it hurt?" I named the places, and he told me what was wrong with each one - it was either a bruise or a cut.

"You're really lucky you know. You weren't wearing a seatbelt, and nothing's broken. You got away with cuts and bruises."

"I was drinking Patrick."

"What?"

"That vodka. I had some before I came after you. Well it was before I knew I was coming after you, and what if I had hit you? If anything happened to you I couldn't forgive myself. Oh my God, and what about that other car?"

"The other car was fine, you missed it. The driver stopped and helped me with you. She's downstairs. Her name is Francine. She's really pretty."

"Not Francine Taylor right?"

"I don't know, I didn't ask her." I heard a knock at the door. "Come in," said Patrick.

"No!" I said. Luckily, she did not hear me and came in. "Speak of the devil," Patrick said.

"How is he?"

"Awake," I said. "And I'm fine, Francine."

"Oh Lyle, I was so worried. Thank God you woke up." It was Francine Taylor. She was in my French class. We went on a date once, and decided never to do it again. That part, of course, was my own fault. I was so nervous I did not know what to say or how to act, and I came across as a complete idiot.

It was for the better anyway. After that date, she spread a nasty rumour about me. She said that I slept with some teacher for marks. It was not the rumour itself that was so horrible, but the fact that many people had trouble letting it go and I was teased constantly about it.

"Why didn't you guys call an ambulance?"

"Because," Francine said, "it would have taken ages to get one out here, and you seemed alright, we just didn't bother."

"She didn't bother," Patrick said. "I wanted to, she insisted we just bring you back here."

"Thank-you Francine, its nice to know that you care."

"There's no need for that!" She exclaimed. "After all you were driving in my lane!"

"It's too bad I didn't hit you," I said. "What would your dad have said if he found out you destroyed his Mercedes."

"You haven't changed at all have you? Look Patrick, I have to go. He's ok now, and, well, bye."

"You're not going anywhere," he said to her.

"What?"

"I didn't mean it that way. Please don't leave. Just go downstairs and make some tea or something."

"Excuse me, this is my house, I didn't invite her to have tea. Let her leave."

"Don't listen to him," Patrick told her. "Just wait downstairs for a minute ok?" She stuck her nose in the air and left the room.

"Did I miss something?" Patrick asked me. I told him about what happened between her and me.

"Oh God, she did that?" He said. "Listen Lyle, what happened was my fault, and I'm sorry. I should have stayed and talked to you."

"No, it wasn't."

"Yes, yes it was. I've been a jerk ever since I met you. The way I spoke to you yesterday was uncalled for. And there's nothing wrong with the way you are. I wouldn't like you any other way." I managed a little smile when he said this, and he became at least somewhat relieved.

"Anyway, can you just get her out of here?"

"No Lyle, the-"

"Fine then I'll do it." I tried getting out of bed, but it proved too painful.

"Lyle what are you doing? Just listen to me for a second." I gave in. "The road we were driving on doesn't go anywhere except your co-"

"My cottage. So what?"

"Well Francine was on it. She must have been heading up here, and I think you should find out why before getting rid of her."

"Look Patrick, I can't deal with this right now. And my car too, what happened to it?"

"Well it's still there. It flipped over, but your side window didn't break because it was rolled down. Obviously we didn't flip it over, but from what we could see it's still in pretty good shape. I don't think there's more than a dent or two, and it definitely needs re- painting. Forget it ok? I'll call a tow-truck later and I'll get it fixed for you, nobody even has to know. Now are you hungry or anything? Do you want to sleep?"

"No, but tea sounds good. Just please go make sure she's not doing something stupid like setting the kitchen on fire."

"I heard that," Francine said, walking into my room with a tray. She sat on the edge of my bed, and looked at Patrick."

"Well Lyle, you'll be ok with her for a while right? I'll go see what I can do about your car."

"Can't that wait Patrick?"

"No," said Francine. "It's a good idea, I mean we can't leave your car there forever can we?" Patrick left.

"How do you like it?" She asked. The way she said that, and the way she was sitting reminded me of why I was so nervous when we went out. She was intelligent and refined. I looked at her, sitting on the edge of my bed with perfect posture, pouring tea, and I suddenly felt an urge to touch her. Instead, I told her how I wanted my tea.

"What are you doing here?" I asked her.

"I heard about your house," she said. "And I wanted to see how you were doing. It took me a while but I finally found out you were here. I tried calling you, but it said that the number didn't exist, so I came up here. Let me help you sit up."

She helped prop up pillows so that I could sit up. I did so, very painfully, and the covers slipped off. I saw that I was wearing nothing except a pair of shorts. I quickly pulled the covers back over myself.

"Ah, yes, I remember the shyness."

"You drove all the way up here to see how I was doing?"

"Is that so hard to believe?"

"After what you did, yes."

"Are you talking about that stupid rumour?" Tears quickly formed in my eyes, and I wiped them. "Look, I'm sorry about that, I was angry, I thought you didn't like me, I mean you were horrible to me on that date."

"I was nervous, I didn't know how I was supposed to act, and I messed up. That thing you started got me in a lot of trouble."

"What? No it didn't, what are you talking about?"

"Yes, it did. Nobody knew what happened after that. Everybody enjoyed making fun of me about it, but Mrs. Fenwick, the teacher I allegedly slept with found out, and then the headmaster found out. I was blamed for the whole thing, and Mrs. Fenwick who already hates everyone hated me even more. My mark dropped by about twenty per cent in that class, and I had detention for two weeks or something. Besides that, my parents found out about it and grounded me for a month."

"So? You never do anything anyway."

"You know you're right. I don't do I? Is that why you came? To point out that my life is pathetic? Mission accomplished."

"I came so you wouldn't be alone on your birthday."

"My birthday isn't today."

"No, but its tomorrow isn't it?"

"Yes. But as you saw, Patrick's here with me, I wouldn't have been alone."

"What's the deal with Patrick anyway?"

"What do you mean?" Did she know?

"Like where did you meet him, how long have you been friends?"

"Oh, well just a few days ago, he brought his boat over to my beach, he was out of petrol and he needed to borrow some. He ended up staying with me for a bit. What makes you think I would have wanted to spend my birthday with you?"

"Would you have rather been here alone?"

"Yes."

"Well that's too bad, because I'm staying. It's a long drive home and I'm not doing it today."

"I need to use the bathroom."

"Right, well let me give you a hand."

"I was actually hoping you would leave."

"You can't do anything in the condition you're in, trust me." She helped me out of bed, and that act helped me see a side of her I had never seen before. She did it in such a gentle, and caring manner that I felt horrible for being unfriendly just now.

"Thank-you," I said, when I was standing. "I think I can manage now."

"Are you sure?" She asked.

"Yes, I'm sure. I'm fine, just stiff. I'm going to have a bath, and I'll be fine."

"Alright, just call me if you need anything, I'll go keep Patrick company."

"I'll call Patrick then," I said. She left my room. "Close the door behind you please." I sat down on the bed and took off my shorts. I slowly walked into the bathroom and looked at myself in the mirror. I was very dirty, but other than that I did not look too bad. I had a few bruises that would not take too long to heal, and some cuts that would heal quickly as well. I ran a hot bath, and soaked in the bathtub. I washed my hair, and combed it instead of putting gel. I felt much better afterwards, and because of my hair, I looked much more carefree, which was the look I was going for. I had enough of being told that my life is pathetic for one day. I put on swimming trunks and a shirt. I was not planning on swimming of course, but that was all I brought. My bruises still hurt a bit, but I was able to move around with no problem.

I went downstairs, and Patrick and Francine were talking to each other over tea.

"Lyle! How are you feeling?" Asked Patrick.

"Much better, thanks."

"Are you hungry Lyle?" Francine asked. "I was going to go pick up some dinner."

"Good," I said. "Maybe you can find a hotel too. I have groceries, I'm going to cook."

"Umm, you should probably take it easy," Patrick said. He gave Francine directions to the nearest town, and lent her his cell phone in case she got lost.

"I have call display," I said. "Don't think I'll be picking it up if you call." They ignored me.

"Just get whatever you find," Patrick told her. "And are you sure you don't want me to go instead?"

"No," Francine said. "I'm not wanted here, I may as well go."

"Yes, she has the right idea," I said to Patrick. She left and I sat down with Patrick on the couch.

"You know she likes you a lot," Patrick said. "I'm sure she's sorry for what she did."

"So you're suggesting I go out with her?"

"Well if you want, but I was actually suggesting that you get along with her. The rumour was supposed to be a joke, she feels terrible about it."

"Well so do I."

"She's really pretty, I think you should give her another chance."

"How would you know?"

"Lyle, I don't-"

"I told you yesterday that I loved you. Like you said, I wasn't trying to get you into bed. If we can't be together, then that's another matter, but I certainly want nothing to do with Francine."

"Well she's a lovely person, I think you should at least be friends."

"Can we talk about something else?"

"Alright. I called a friend. They're towing your car tomorrow morning, then they're going to fix it, and then they're going to call your cell phone, and we have to pick it up when its ready."

"I may not have enough money left, I mean I spent a lot of what my parents left me, and I still have to live here the rest of the summer."

"It's alright, I have plenty. It's the least I could do. I know you're about to argue but don't, if you don't have enough, and you want to pay me back later, we'll worry about it then alright?"

"Thanks, but I have more than enough. I just wanted to see if you would lend it to me or not."

"Very clever. Is everything still hurting?"

"The bruises are a bit, and I'm a bit sore, but I'll be fine in a couple of days."

Francine arrived back a couple of hours later, and we ate.

"You don't mind sleeping on the floor do you?" I asked her.

"Lyle stop it!" Patrick said. "This place is huge, it has like fifty bedrooms."

"Alright, come on I'll make up your room."

"Lyle don't worry, I can do it myself," she said.

"But you don't know where anything is." Patrick, Francine and me made up her room together, then Patrick helped me get into bed, and he brought me my journal.

"In case you want to write," he said. He put it down on the night table, leaned over and kissed me quickly on the lips. "Good night. And by the way, I love you too."

"What? Then what was all the fuss about earlier?"

"When you told me you loved me," Patrick said, "I was going to say it back. I was just making a little joke first, and then you left, and I didn't have an opportunity after that to say it back."

"Oh Patrick, I'm sorry."

"It's alright. I'll see you in the morning."

"Wait, what's with you telling me to give Francine a chance if you want to be with me."

"I want you to be happy," he said. "That's what my whole speech was about earlier. I mean whatever I told you that you should be doing, those are the things that I enjoy doing and I enjoy life because that's the way I am. It's different for you, and there's nothing wrong with that. About Francine, well, I don't know if the two of us could ever really be happy together, and I know you're attracted to women as well, and I figured that if things work out between the two of you, you'll probably have a really good life together. I don't know if I'm right or not, but I did not want to stop you if that's something that will make you happy."

"Thanks Patrick, I really appreciate that. Good night." He smiled, and went to bed. Ever since I have known him, I have thought him to be very self-centred, but he is not. He is the most wonderful person I know, but then Francine measures up quite nicely. She came all the way over here so that I would not be alone on my birthday.

Wednesday, July 5th, 2001

I was tired, but I went to sleep happy last night. Patrick loved me, and there was no way anything in my life would ever be better than the moment when I first heard him say it.

I was exhausted from the events of the previous day, and so I woke up late, and of I was sore. I forced myself out of bed, took a long bath, got dressed and went downstairs. Francine and Patrick were waiting for me in the kitchen. They had a cupcake with a candle in it. Patrick lit it when he saw me, and they sang happy birthday.

I sat down while they were singing.

"Make a wish," Patrick said. I looked at him, and then I looked at Francine, who was smiling in a way that said, "what do you really want? Wish for it." My wish was that I could make up my mind. I blew out the candle, and they clapped.

A gift suddenly appeared.

"Francine you really didn't have to."

"Yes, yes, just open it." It was an envelope, so I assumed it was money. I took out the card. It read "Happy birthday Lyle. Love, Francine." It was not very verbose, but it meant more to me than any silly things she could have written in it. What remained in the envelope was a piece of paper. I took it out, and glanced at Francine before reading it. It seemed as if she could hardly contain her excitement. I read the letter. It was from a publisher.

"You, you sent my stories in?"

"Yes," she said. "The publisher loved them."

"Isn't that illegal? I mean I didn't give you permission."

"Well, kind of, but I had a friend, and I explained that I wanted it to be a surprise. Of course they can't do anything unless you approve, which I hope you will, because everything you've written is amazing."

"I never showed you any of my stories."

"Right, well never mind about tha-"

"How did you get them?"

"Remember that party your parents threw a few months ago?"

"No, I wasn't there."

"I know, but I was. Anyway there was nobody else my age there, so I was bored. I told your mother that I needed some notes for a class, and asked if I could go to your room to look for them. I went into your computer and found the stories. I liked them, so I made copies."

"What is with the two of you and privacy?"

"What do you mean?" She asked.

"Never mind. So you have copies? I thought they were gone, you know the fire and all."

"Yes, I do. Unless you had others."

"No, no, just what was in the computer. How did you even know they were there?"

"Remember our date? I asked you what your hobbies were, you mentioned it."

"Well thank-you, it's a wonderful present." I hugged her, and then looked at Patrick.

"Congratulations," he said, somewhat sadly. "Umm, this is a bit embarrassing, I didn't really know it was your birthday until last night."

"Well I didn't tell you. Don't worry about it Patrick."

"I'm just kidding. I read your journal you idiot."

"You have a journal?" Francine asked. "Can I read it?"

"Absolutely not!" I said.

"Well he got to."

"Yes well too bad." Patrick gave me his present. It was a carrying case for my computer.

"I noticed you didn't have one," he said. "I know it isn't the greatest present in the world, but-"

"What? Don't be silly I love it."

"Then why are you crying?" I was crying.

"Just because, I don't know. I'm just happy, thank-you both." I felt like they were both competing for me, and it was true for Patrick. Francine did not realize that she had competition, which she actually did not, because I was not planning on choosing them based on who gave a better present.

"Well stop it and eat your cupcake," Francine said. "I want to go to the beach, I only have today here."

"Francine, I'm sorry for the way I've been acting, I want you to stay as long as you want."

"No, I don't want to impose. I didn't realize Patrick was here when I came down."

"Don't leave on my account," Patrick said. "I love having you here."

"Yes, Francine, please stay."

"Alright, I think I might. I'm just going to go change." Patrick spoke as soon as she left.

"If you choose her, or neither of us, well, I won't be mad. I don't ever want anything to ruin our friendship."

"Alright Patrick, nothing will then."

"Lyle, umm, well do you like her?" I looked into his desperate eyes. I did not know what to tell him, because I did not know how I felt.

"Yes Patrick, I do, but I just don't know how much. What I do know is that I love you." He smiled.

"We should head down to the beach, she should be there by now."

"Yeah, let's go." We arrived at the beach, and she was there putting sunscreen.

"Who's up for a swim?" She asked.

"I don't think I can," I said, but you two go ahead. I'm in the middle of this great book I'd love a chance to finish it."

"What? No Lyle! It's your birthday, we can swim later, what do you want to do?"

"I want to read my book. I'm serious, you two go ahead, I insist."

"Well, alright," said Patrick. "We won't be too long."

"No," said Francine. "We'll be back soon."

"Please take your time," I said. I watched the two of them very closely. Francine took off her clothes and was wearing a black bikini underneath. She had long, blonde hair and large brown eyes. Her body did not have an ounce of fat on it, and her skin was glistening in the sun.

When I watched Patrick, he too had a wonderful body. His muscles were nicely toned, and his pink nipples were a nice contrast to his white skin. When they were ready, they both ran into the lake. I watched them while pretending to read. They were having a great time. Patrick did the same thing he did with me. They splashed around, swam after each other and took frequent breaks to have little conversations. I was becoming quite jealous of her. Did that mean I wanted Patrick?

We spent the rest of the day at the beach, and then Patrick and Francine cooked a sumptuous dinner.

"This is delicious," I said to them.

"Give credit where it's due, France did most of the work." So he had started calling her France. If he was not gay, I would think he was trying to take my girlfriend. Of course she was not my girlfriend, and now I was being jealous of him.

"How come you never call me France?" She asked me. "I like it you know."

"Well, from now on I will then. By the way Patrick, while you were swimming, I got a call about my car. They said there was not too much damage, and it would just be a couple of days. I got an estimate; I have more than enough for it. Thanks for all the trouble."

"It was my pleasure," he said.

"And France, I'm calling the publisher tomorrow. I'm giving them approval to publish my stories. Thanks for sending them in."

"Oh that's great," she said. "Patrick, have you read any of them?"

"No, he doesn't have them anymore, remember?"

"Oh that's right. Lyle remind me to give them to you sometime. I don't have them with me though, but when we go back."

"Thanks, I will."

Patrick baked a wonderful cake, and they went through a lot of trouble decorating it. They sang happy birthday a second time, and we ate it. After dinner, the three of us watched a movie together.

"I'm dead," Patrick said. "I think I'm going to bed."

"But it's so early!" I said. "Can't you stay longer?"

"If I do, I'll fall asleep."

"No matter," said France. "It'll give us a chance to catch up. Good night Patrick."

They deviously smiled at each other.

"Good night," I said.

"Happy birthday," was his response.

"Wait Patrick, I'll walk you upstairs. I'll be right back France."

"What? You don't have to walk me upstairs! I'm fine, stay here. Good night." He walked away, leaving me alone with her.

"Well," I said. "What would you like to do now?" She leaned over, kissed my neck, and then looked at me questioningly, as if to ask me whether or not I liked it. I stared back into her eyes for a moment, and before I could do anything, she closed her eyes and pressed her lips onto mine.

I stopped thinking, and kissed her back. She put her hand on my bare leg, close to my knee, and slowly moved it into my shorts. She found my penis, and began stroking it. My mind switched back on, and I pushed her away.

"What is it?" She asked.

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this."

"Oh. There's nothing to be sorry about. I understand."

"No, you don't. It's not that I don't want to be with you, but there's someone else, and it wouldn't be right if you and I, well, you know."

"Right, someone else, fine, let's just change the subject ok?"

"Of course, I forgot, I'm too big of a loser, how can there be someone else?"

"That's not what I meant."

"I know that's not what you meant. You're beautiful, and smart, and classy, and, well, you're actually perfect for me, so trust me, I would not turn you down for anything short of my being in love with someone else." I could see by her face that she would not believe me, and that she wanted to be left alone. "I think I'm going to turn in as well. Thank-you for the present, and for dinner, and for coming."

"Happy birthday." I went up to my room, and got out my journal. I did not, however, open it.

"No, it's out of the question." I thought to myself. "But I guess it's the only way. If she really cares about me, she won't tell anybody. But what if she doesn't? But she does, I could see it in her eyes."

I got out my old journal from the drawer, and went over to her room. She had not yet come up, and her bed was made. I placed the journals on top of it, and went to Patrick's room. I opened the door slowly, and peeked inside to see if he was asleep.

"France?"

"No Patrick, it's me."

"Lyle, come in." I entered and closed the door. He turned on the lamp beside his bed and sat up. I sat down next to him on the edge of the bed.

"How did it go with Francine?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well I'm sure you figured out why I left the two of you alone."

"Yes Patrick, I did. And I made my decision." I placed my hand around his waist, leaned over and kissed him.

Luckily for me, the story had a natural ending. I tend to get carried away with things like this, and if I had my way I would have continued with the rest of their lives. But what happened with the rest of their lives?

Not too long after Lyle left, Francine went up to her room. She turned on the light, and the first thing she saw were the journals on her bed. Francine then made herself comfortable, and stayed up the entire night reading them.

She got up very late the next morning, and not finding Lyle and Patrick in the house, she concluded that they had gone down to the beach. She headed for the beach, and a worried look came over Lyle's face when he saw her.

She ignored him, and walked up to Patrick.

"Congratulations," she said to him, and walked back to the cottage.

"I'll explain in a minute," Lyle said to him, and followed her.

"I take it you read them," I said.

"Well that is why you left them there isn't it?"

"Yes, yes of course it was."

"Look Lyle, I have to go. This whole thing was stupid, I should never have come down here."

"Come on France, nobody wants you to go. You and Patrick were getting on so well, and I like having you around too."

"Lyle I don't know if I can. Seeing the two of you together, I just don't think I can take that. I mean you know how I feel about you, so put yourself in my shoes."

"France, you're too mature to let something like that get to you. I know that if you wanted to, you could stay and have a good time with us. However, you know yourself best. If I'm wrong and you can't stay, then perhaps it is best that you go, but before you do, I am very grateful for everything you've done, so thank-you."

Francine did end up staying, and the three of them became very close friends. Unfortunately, Lyle and Patrick never got over their fear of people finding out that they were gay, and so they never told anybody. They were together their whole lives, but they lived separately, so nobody would ever suspect.

Francine never stopped loving Lyle, but she was able to move on. She got married and had children, and lived a happy life. Out of the three of them, she also lived the longest life. Lyle passed on first, and then Patrick, not too long afterwards. Francine was devastated during this time, but she was consoled by the fact that they died of natural causes, but mostly because they died happy.

Both of them, in their wills, specifically mentioned that they wanted their journals to go to Francine, and so they did. She kept them close to her own, and close to her heart. After she died, her husband was too upset to read them, but because they were hers, he did not want to throw them away, so he shut them away in a box. That is at least my guess as to what happened. I am assuming he did not read them because if he had, he surely would have destroyed them. It would not have been easy for him to find out that his wife loved another man. And so the story ends, but I cannot help but wonder how different the ending would have been had Lyle chosen Francine instead.