HIGH SCHOOL TRAUMA by Monshanjik (heh)

[monshanjik]

HIGH SCHOOL TRAUMA
by Monshanjik ( yes, really )

Chapter 1

Kevin stepped on the scales and looked at the tournament director. His
coach was giving him thumbs up. He was in. Now it was just a matter of
the tournament director saying it.

Well? How long did this chicken-hawk need to make a decision? He had to
have seen plenty of veal tonight. He was well built, it wasn't like
Kevin was Arnold Schwarzenegger with John Holmes' junk. There were two
or three guys on Kevin's own team that were built better or swung more
meat. He'd have been licking the scales if Jack had stepped up for a
weigh-in. Kevin would too, and he didn't give a shit if they all
watched.

Maybe this freak just preferred blonds.

The tournament director made some notes on the clipboard, smiled and
slowly said, 'You're in the junior 189 pound group.'

His coach was ecstatic, 'Hot damn! Get suited up, Kevin. Time to kick
ass and take names.'

Such a big deal over him turning eighteen. New division, new weight
class, blah blah blah. People turn eighteen every day, why does everyone
need to make such a big fucking deal of it? He rolled his eyes and went
to the locker he'd been assigned and started dressing for the match.

Tony was on the bench beside him, going through the same motions. 'So
they let you in?'

He laced up his mat-shoes, 'Yeah. Big load of shit if you ask me.
Turning eighteen before you graduate from high school is a crock.
Suddenly you can hardly compete in sports. One tournament director will
count you as eighteen because you turn eighteen during the school year,
the next will disqualify you altogether... ...another will stick you in
the junior class when you're still seventeen.' That last he said low so
only Tony could hear.

He sat up and looked at Tony, 'Jack had to threaten to sue the school
board so I could make the wrestling team this year.'

'I guess I'm lucky, I won't turn eighteen until after the wrestling
season is over.'

'They should pass some kind of law that says we all turn eighteen the
day we graduate high school.'

'That'd be stupid, what if you dropped out?'

'That'd be stupider than the law.'

'You got a point. Hey, where's your good luck charm?'

'If I put it up your ass, you'd know.'

Tony made a contemptuous face, 'Aw man, that's getting old, get a new
line already.'

Kevin rapped the hard cup in his jock. 'Where'd you put yours?'

'Left shoe.'

'Well, yours is bigger, probably wouldn't fit in a cup pocket.'

Tony scoffed, 'No, yours is bigger. Way bigger.'

'Oh, fuck you! Not my fault my mom was raped by a horse.'

'Oy! Armitage! Watch the mouth! Or you'll be doing squats until I get
tired,' his coach shouted from some unseen quarter.

He and Tony laughed hard over the horse comment any way. They were both
finished dressing except for their head gear, now it was just killing
time until Coach Ball fired off the sermon.

Tony nudged him and asked, 'Aren't you even a little bit excited about
turning eighteen?'

'A little, but not for the usual reasons. I don't want a car or my own
apartment or anything like that.'

'Aren't your folks or Jack going to do anything special?'

It still felt weird to call Jack's parents his parents, but they had his
title deed, or pedigree papers, or whatever they call adoption papers,
so it was all official. Three years, and it still didn't feel like it
was right to call them his mom and his dad. Kevin shrugged. 'Maybe,
they're driving in this weekend.'

'Driving? All the way from California?'

Kevin shrugged, 'Mom's parents died in that plane crash that killed the
Marshall football team.'

'Oh. I'd prolly not fly after that too. Still, you don't even sound like
you're happy they'll be here.'

'I'll be happy to sleep in the same bed with Jack.'

Tony rolled his eyes, 'You're nuts, you know that, right?'

Jerry dropped onto the bench and said to Tony 'You'd be the expert to
tell him. Scoot it, bitch, the church-goers want you over there."

Coach Ball was calling for the team to gather round for his pre-match
sermon. He stayed put while Tony and the other guys huddled near the
coach for the pep talk and prayer. He didn't give a shit for that
nonsense, he knew bigger and better things to motivate and sanctify him.
Those things beginning and ending in himself. Everyone understood that,
he'd knocked enough heads explaining it to them.

He hated violence, but he understood very well that all pain was
instructional. He had been taught plenty by means of pain before Jack
found him.

After Tony left, Jerry looked at Kevin, 'Nervous?'

'Yeah, a little. Always am.'

'You'll do fine. Just remember to fart real big and sour like I always
do when we practice,' he said with a big grin.

'That's a fart? I thought it was your breath.'

'Aw, man, that ain't right.'

Coach was ending the pep talk with 'Panther power!'

As usual, Kevin silently lipped gay power at Jerry, who snorted a
stiffled laugh.

He closed his locker quietly and snapped the lock shut. They were over
there praying to whatever god of victory was worshipped by sports
coaches. Kevin thought it stupid that even as humanity stood on the
brink of the twenty-first century some people felt the need for divine
enfranchisement.

Thankfully, Jerry was as turned off religion as Kevin was, so he didn't
feel a total freak sitting out of the cult practices.

He sighed. He liked some of these guys. It bothered him some of them
wouldn't like him because whoever was speaking for their god this week
said they shouldn't. Jack said if you killed all the self-appointed
messiahs, there'd just be more the next day. He figured Jack was right.

Coach said the Amen and it was time to go out and show the punks from
Putnam County just who their daddy was.

Kevin slipped on his helmet and buckled the chin guard in place. He
stood up and did a quick, loose, dead-weight body-shake to relax the
muscles in his shoulders and arms. Then he and Jerry headed out into the
gymnasium, he was going to prove to himself again that no one could ever
again master him against his will.

* * *

Kevin was breathing a little fast, but the ache in his chest was almost
gone. That was good. He looked over and saw the rest of the team
flooding out of the Winfield High gym busting ass to get the prime seats
in the van.

'Holy shit! Armitage, you ARE the man!' Tony's mouth was acting up, but
Coach Ball was in such a good mood from the outcome of the matches that
he was ignoring the language.

Jerry, smiling, reached over the seat and clasped his shoulder. 'You'll
take all-state again this year, if you keep going like this, Kev.'

Even the guys who openly hated him were being complimentary. Except
Tyler, but that was to be expected. Tyler would have found fault with
the way Jesus hung on the cross and insisted on showing him how to do it
properly. Kevin smiled and chirped at him, 'Cheer up, Forty Dollar. I'm
still gonna burn in hell for sucking black dicks.'

Jerry laughed hysterically.

'Armitage,' Coach Ball said in a warning tone.

They closed the doors and headed back to Huntington. Tyler looked like
he was going to say something, but Jerry, Tony, and Paul gave him such
stares that he backed down.

Tyler glowered out the window of the van, ignoring the rest of them as
they continued to cut up. Kevin favored him with a dose of ignore, but
he saw his friends keeping a watchful eye on Tyler. Kevin didn't care,
he knew he could trounce the bigoted asshole with one arm behind his
back on or off the mats.

He really didn't want it to come to that. He would rather not have to
murder the guy. He rested his head on the door window thankful being the
team captain had some small rewards, like always having shotgun. He
closed his eyes and dozed a while.

Coach gave his shoulder a shake and asked him where he wanted to go
since his birtday was this week. He smiled and said Dwight's. Everyone
groaned. He gloated a bit, he was going to have a Fatboy burger, onion
rings, and a chocolate malt served by his 'grandmother' and that was the
end of it.

He went back to napping until they got to Huntington. After the van was
parked in the Dwight's parking lot, he jumped out of the van and hurried
through the chill. The temperature had dropped fast after the sun had
set.

As he entered, he saw Aldenia coming back from a table with a tray piled
up with dishes. He took the tray from her and asked with creased brow,
'What happened to the busboy?'

She smiled, 'He called in sick... again.'

He frowned and gave a knowing look, 'Figures. Well, now, you have me,'
leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek.

He turned and took the tray of dishes into the kitchen before she could
protest him working on his birthday. He shouted at the coach he was
working now, he would join them for dinner as he was able. Coach Ball
understood his relationship with Aldenia, so waved him on and went on to
a table.

In the kitchen, he went over to the dish washing station and greeted
Javier with another chance to practice his Spanish, ‘¡Ola, Javier! ¿Qué
pasa?’

The dark-haired kid smiled a super-white smile back at him, ‘¡Ola,
Kevin! Not so good. That lazy pig Miguel stays at home to drink beer and
play Nintendo again. I have to work the double.’

Kevin frowned and shook his head, saying ‘Yeah, that sucks. He'll end up
losing his job and then no more beer.’

Javier made a startled expression and chirped, ‘Oh! Before I forget,
happy birthday!’ and embraced him in a tight hug and kissed him on the
cheek.

Kevin felt his knees go a little wobbly from the enthusiastic birthday
wish. Javier was a cinnamon-skinned hotty he wanted in the best way. He
felt reckless, so whispered in Javier's ear, ‘Tu es un calentón, quiero
chupar su verga.’

Javier pulled back with his eyes wide and slack jaw. He was obviously
shocked by the confession. Kevin saw him swallow nervously, then glance
around the kitchen. He looked at Kevin and asked in a low voice, 'Why do
you always say such things?'

Javier hadn't completely released Kevin from the hug, so he hadn't lost
all hope of staying friends. He risked it all, 'Maybe I mean it.'

Javier looked around again and lowered his eyelids a little, he pursed
his lips and studied Kevin's face before saying, ‘Okay, after work, I
will show you how small my pija is and you will laugh.’

Kevin looked at him with friendly disbelief.

Javier laughed, ‘No, really, is very small, no bigger than my leg.’

Kevin smiled hugely, ‘Riiiiiiiight.’

He laughed at the joke and hugged Javier, then busied himself bussing
tables and helping Javier get caught up with the dishes.

The restaurant closed at 10 PM. After Dwight waved the last customers
out and turned the key in the door, Kevin mopped and vacuumed the dining
room to help out the waitresses so they could take a much needed break.
After restocking the service areas, he walked Aldenia to her 9th Street
home and scurried back to the restaurant to help Javier finish with the
kitchen.

There was no snow but it was cold as hell with the only the thin
sweater. He definitely needed more than dress slacks and a light sweater
on a night like this. He wished he had the Navy pea-coat Jack had given
him, it fit him perfectly and nicely suited his build.

He got to the back of the restaurant, the burn was back in his chest. He
shouldn't have run so soon after a wrestling match. He heard voices
coming down the alley, losers going to the Super America to buy beer. He
ignored them and concentrated on counting cigarette butts while he
waited for Javier to let him in; he hoped he wasn't mopping the
bathrooms. He'd not hear the knock if he was and then Kevin would be
blue with cold before he was finished.

'Waiting for someone, faggot?'

He whipped around

Great.

Tyler, Mack, Josh, and Phil.

Fuck, fuck, fuck. Not now.

The burn hadn't even eased up in his chest yet. He needed to play it
cool. If it had to go down, then he needed it to be fast and one-sided
or he'd be dead on the asphault with a burst aorta. He hated violence
with a passion, but he'd need to mete out all of it he could to stay
alive.

He tilted his head a bit to the side. He kept his voice even and low as
he said, 'You really don't want to do this.'

'Oh, yeah? You're wrong faggot. I have been waiting years to do this.'

He kept his eyes on Tyler, shook his head and said, 'Okay... but when I
am done with you, you're gonna be in an iron lung.'

He stood and lashed out with his fist and nailed Tyler in the solar
plexus while he was giving the threat a mocking laugh. Tyler crumpled to
his knees gasping. He gave Tyler a vicious kick to the head to
temporarily neutralize him as a threat before the others could recover
from their surprise over his pre-emptive attack.

He grabbed Josh in a police-style choke-hold and held him in front of
him as a shield, spinning like a top so Josh's legs flew out and clubbed
the remaining two when they moved to flank him. Still spinning, he let
go of Josh when he felt him go slack. Josh went flying towards the
restaurant feet first, landing so his torso flew forward over his feet
smacking his head violently on the steel door, then falling in a limp
heap at the foot of the door.

He ignored the increasing pain in his chest, balled his right hand into
a hard fist and punched Phil's throat. Phil went down to his knees
clutching his spasming windpipe. He was out of the equation now.

Kevin had dropped three of the four in under three minutes. He stepped
back and cast about for Mack. Mack had a deer in the headlights look. He
said to Mack, 'Run or fight, pussy-boy?'

Mack chose to run.

He stood bent with his hands on his knees, grunting from the Hell he had
unleashed in his chest. It eased off as he hyperventilated to decrease
the work load of his heart.

As the cruel ache eased down to a thin burning feeling, he glanced
around. Tyler was starting to recover, so Kevin went over to him.
Grabbing him by the hair, Kevin pulled him up as Tyler squalled. He
began to hammer Tyler in the face with his fist until Tyler was blowing
blood-bubbles out his nose and crying like a bitch. He let go of Tyler,
letting him flop to the ground.

Phil was almost breathing normally again, but obviously not fully
oxygenated. Kevin wasn't fighting fair, but what fight is ever fair? He
picked up an empty corrugated metal trash can and fractured Phil's skull
for him.

A blinding pain like he'd been speared jabbed through his upper left
chest. Kevin dropped to his knees and coughed out a broken scream from
the sickening pain.

As suddenly as it had come, it faded, leaving him feeling dazed and
gasping for air. He swallowed convulsively; he'd almost vomited from the
pain. His eyes were watering; he wiped away the excess tears and saw
Josh grabbing at the door knob of the restaurant rear exit, trying to
get up. Kevin got up, staggering forward.

He went over to Josh, who was still struggling up off the ground. Kevin
nailed Josh in the jaw with the toe of his hiking boot like he was
kicking the homecoming tie-breaker. He heard a satisfying wet crunch.
Josh went back down screaming like a woman, holding his face.

A hot lance of agony like being stabbed hit Kevin. He sank down on one
knee, eyes squeezed shut, a fist clench against the spot where Hell was
breaking through in his chest. He started hyperventilating, trying to
get ahead of the thing. Desperate to feed his heart the oxygen it needed
so it would stop hurting.

A horrifying, hot, tearing sensation lashed him. He heard his voice
distantly as he shrilled out like a nine year old girl. He fell to the
ground and writhing from the indescribable pain in his breast. He
disgorged his stomach in a fountain of vomit, then lay there dry heaving
and crying from the lancing pain.

Excruciatingly slowly, the gates of Hell swung closed in his chest. His
heart began to beat normally. He was shaking from a mixture of pain and
fear. He relaxed the fist at his chest. There was still a small ache
that came and went in his shoulder, but his blood pressure was dropping
to normal. He'd live.

Oh how he hated that bitch his mother. Hated her worse than her piece of
shit boyfriend. She had been the one that betrayed him and dragged him
along with her, just so she and Doug would have some one to beat and
burn and starve. His body still bore the marks of her love. Four years
and seven surgeries hadn't been able to erase her love.

Because she was a drunken whore, he had a bulging aorta. She'd thought
more of Jack Daniels and Jim Beam than the baby in her womb. He was
marked inside and out with her love. They could fix it, but that meant
ripping his chest open. Another scar, compliments of that cunt. He just
had to make it to graduation, then they'd do the surgery. Seven months
felt like a very long time.

He felt like all the strength had gone out of him, he always did after
his heart fucked-up, but this time it was far worse. He struggled to his
feet and zigzagged like a drunk to the pay phone. He spilled change on
the ground as he fumbled in a quarter and dialed 9-1-1. His hands were
shaking so badly it took four tries to dial the number.

Finally the line was ringing through. He explained to the emergency
operator what had just happened with the four assholes, he was told to
wait for the police at the site of the altercation if he thought it was
safe to do so. He thought it was safe to do so.

Javier was just dragging out the trash when he got back to the rear of
the restaurant. Javier had a frightened look on his face and seemed much
relieved to find Kevin unhurt. 'Oh! There you are! What the Hell
happened?'

He still didn't feel right, but didn't let on to Javier, 'Things got a
lot complicated a moment ago.'

'You do all these by yourself?' Javier asked incredulously.

Kevin felt embarrassed suddenly. Kevin sighed and explained what had
happened.

'You call the policia? Oh no!'

Javier had a green card, but prior experience said he would be better
served to not get involved with the police. Kevin apologized and joked,
asking for a rain-check to see Javier's tiny pija.

They hugged and Kevin watched Javier run down the alley to his
apartment. Kevin felt very sad. He hated violence. It always depressed
him. He dumped the trash and went in the restaurant to get warm. He
drank a glass of ice water and groped for the sublingual GTN spray in
the side pocket his athletic bag.

He lost the cap opening it, fought with his shaking hands to turn it the
right way and sprayed a dose of the rude shit under his tongue. A few
seconds later he got a familiar headache as his blood vessels dilated.
Soon the ache in his shoulder subsided altogether. He could see he was
white as a ghost in the mirrors behind the counter.

He didn't know how long it had been since he'd dialed 9-1-1. He had to
go back outside. But he didn't think waiting for the cops outside
without a jacket was a great idea. His ruined hands were still shaking
badly and he wasn't sure his heart could handle hypothermia.

He dreaded it, but he called Jack and asked him to bring the pea-coat
and explained the situation. He didn't mention the episode with his
heart.

Jack was livid. Not with him, but with the dumb-asses he'd thumped. Jack
was quickly off the phone and on his way. Barely a minute had passed
when he heard Jack's Nova coming down 9th Avenue.

He turned off the lights in the kitchen and went out to the back lot,
closing the door behind him, checking it to make sure it was locked. He
didn't want Jack seeing him in full light. It was all locked up now, so
he went over to the Nova and got in and closed the door quickly so the
dome light wouldn't rat him out. He got a big hug from Jack and pulled
on the pea-coat.

Jack sat with him waiting for the police. The paramedics were quicker to
arrive; they rolled up and collected the three busted up wrestlers,
whisking them away to much needed service at one or the other of the
hospitals. A police cruiser rolled onto the lot about midnight.

He and Jack got out of the car and waved to the cruiser.

The policeman got out of the cruiser and shook Jack's hand, 'Small
world, so what's up, Jack?'.

It was Danny McCoy; he had a night class at the university with Jack.
Danny had been over to the house lots of times. He and a few others from
the class, when they did study groups. Kevin knew he was an okay guy.
Not an Einstein, but genuinely friendly.

'Didn't expect to be seeing you so soon. Kevin's the one that had the
trouble, you'll have to get the story from him. I'm just here for moral
support.'

Kevin laid it all out for Danny. Including the verbal exchange he'd had
with Tyler in the van as they drove back from Winfield. And the history
of almost fights they'd had the past four years at Huntington High.

Danny looked at the blood on the asphalt and door with his Maglight,
then came pack to the picnic table. 'Looks like you did all right for
yourself, Kevin. Let's have a look at your hands.'

The bitter cold of the night had deadened them some, even so he was
surprised how battered his knuckles were. It looked like he'd been
punching brick walls. Jack gasped when he saw Kevin's hand under the
flashlight, 'Fuck, Kevin why didn't you say anything?'

Kevin shrugged, 'I don't know, they don't hurt much, I didn't know.' He
wouldn't have noticed losing a limb with the pain he'd felt in his chest
during and after the fight.

Danny said, 'That'd be from having your blood up, adrenaline does that.
Cold air out here too. You'll want stitches for those. I guess you'll
have to come to the station and make a statement, you can do that
tomorrow.'

His nervousness at having to go to the police station must have shown,
because Danny said, 'You shouldn't have any trouble from this, there
were four of them, that makes it attempted murder on their side, you
could have killed them and it'd be self-defense. Give me a minute and
I'll use the radio to ask if there's anything more the on-call in the
DA's office wants done here.'

While Danny went to work in the cruiser, Jack asked Kevin, 'Kevin is
there anything you need to tell me?'

Kevin shrugged, 'Nothing I think you don't already know.'

'Like?'

'I'm gay.' He figured that would throw super-sleuth off any scent.

Jack was quiet a while, chewing on the corner of his mouth. Finally he
nodded, 'Okay, so that explains why those dumb-asses felt it necessary
to try to kick your ass.'

Jack raked his bottom teeth on his upper lip, then asked, 'So, if it's
no big secret, can I assume you weren't trying to set up a hot date with
any of the fuck-sticks?'

Kevin snorted, 'Oh, get real, Jack. I have way better taste than them.'

'I'd hope so.'

Danny stood up and asked over the top of the cruiser, 'Assistant DA
wants to know if there were any un-involved witnesses.'

Kevin nodded, 'Yes.' He turned and pointed at the surveillance camera
over the restaurant's back door.

Danny laughed, 'I would say that's a damned impartial witness,' and sat
back in the cruiser.

Jack wrapped an arm around Kevin's shoulders. 'I think you did all
right, Champ.'

Kevin leaned into him, 'Thanks, Jack.'

'What were you planning on doing before this bunch of hooligans butted
in?'

'I was hoping to suck my first dick.'

'Hmph, well, you can always suck mine, butt-head.'

'I may... someday... if you wash it more regular, butt-munch.'

'Anyone I know?'

'Javier, the dishwasher.'

'Ouch. I lose out to the midget with a face like a girl.'

'...and a body that's all man. Can't go wrong with that. Hey! Javier's
not a midget?'

'Oh? Sorry, did I say that out loud?'

'Don't make me beat your ass too.'

'And to think, all those years ago when we met, you were scared shitless
I might be a chicken-hawk.'

'Now I'm heartbroken that you're sexually crippled by heterosexuality.'

'Hey, I still shower with you.'

'Being in the same communal shower with me and six fat, old slobs at the
YMCA doesn't quite count, you know?'

'I do what I can to please.'

'I guess I should feel lucky,' Kevin said sarcastically.

'Fortune favors all.'

'...but unevenly.'

'After we get through this, I may let you get me drunk and have your
dirty, filthy way with me.'

'Dude, if you get drunk it will have to be dirty and filthy, one beer
and you vomit like a broken fire hydrant, I'd hate to see you get a full
drunk on.'

'Just trying to help out a friend.'

Kevin could only roll his eyes, he couldn't believe Jack was so laid
back about him being gay, 'Thanks, but no thanks.'

Jack gave Kevin another squeeze, 'I think it'll be best if we avoid
telling mom and dad you're gay until they've been here a day or two.
Save it for when we want them to leave.'

'Asshole. I already told them.'

'So why'd you not tell me?'

'I had other plans on how I was going to show you.'

'Sounds ominous. Does it happen to involve large quantities of bad
make-up, cheap hair-spray, and cross-dressing?'

'Um, no.'

'Not even lip-synching?'

'Ditto on the no.'

'Show tunes? Floral arrangements? Interior decorating?'

Kevin laughed, 'No, no, and no.'

'Then we should be fine... unless you mean to use mice, lime Jell-o and
string.'

'What the Hell would you do with those?'

'Oh, lots of things, almost all of them illegal and morally repugnant.'

Again, Kevin was laughing. 'Sometimes I wonder about you.'

'Only sometimes? I guess I need to work harder at it.'

'Blah. You know I love you.'

'You don't even try to hide it.'

'You could say I love you back.'

'I love you back.'

'Asshole.'

'If it weren't for assholes everyone would be full of shit, you should
be thankful.'

'I am — you're my asshole.'

'I will assume that's a compliment.'

Kevin was almost thankful that Danny stood up again and told them they
were good to go. He loved Jack, always would, but sometimes he didn't
want all the word play.

 

[monshanjik]

HIGH SCHOOL TRAUMA
by Monshanjik ( yes, really )

Chapter 2

Danny had warned them off going to St. Mary's, there'd been some
accident there that had their ER in a shambles. So they'd gone to
Cabell-Huntington instead. The waiting room wasn't full or anything, but
still it had taken over five hours to get stitches. Twenty-seven stitches
in all. Now his hands were swollen horribly and ached like bad teeth.

Jack was alternating between fussing over him and calling around trying
to find a pharmacy open at 7 AM to fill the prescription for Endocet
they'd given him at the ER. He found one open and rushed out the door.

Kevin sat at the Kitchen table with the morning paper trying to decide
if he should fall into bed. The ache in his hands wasn't terrible; he'd
suffered far worse before Jack found him huddled beside the truck stop
in Ft Pierce. He owed everything to Jack. Kevin sighed; he wished
intensely that he and Jack could be something more than brothers.

He couldn't go on wishing for the things that he could never have. He
knew it wasn't healthy for him to hang on to this hero-worship. Jack was
his Superman. He didn't want to fuck up everything they had simply so he
could get it on with Jack.

He turned his attention to the newspaper; that was safer. The lead
article on the front page was about an oxygen fire in the St Mary's ER.
Three dead and more than twenty injured. The names of the deceased were
being withheld until their families were notified. They had launched
Atlantis on some military mission. Japan was still celebrating its new
emperor's coronation.

Kevin leafed through the rest of the paper looking for the comics, and
spotted his name on the daily police-blotter.

A Huntington man, Kevin Armitage, 18, successfully defended himself
against four juvenile gang members, all of which being on probation, on
the 800 block of 8th Street in the back lot of Dwight's restaurant. The
juveniles have been bound over for grand jury as adults on charges of
conspiracy to commit murder. Three of the four were transported to St
Mary's for treatment of injuries. The fourth is still at large and being
sought by police.

He read it again. Eighteen, he was eighteen now. Blah. A great way to
start off being an adult, having your name in the police blotter.

Below his article, he saw a more interesting one.

An unidentified man was killed last night when a portion of a sycamore
tree fell crushing him on the path by Four Pole Creek in Ritter Park.
The body was discovered by Agnes Nagler while walking her dog at 1:00
AM. Paramedics estimated the weight of the tree limb in excess of 600
lbs. Park Board officials say the tree was known to have health issues
but an inspection in October the tree had shown no sign immediate danger
to the public.

Kevin thought, splatter city! Well, at least it had been quick for the
guy. Better than burning to death like the other three. Oh, well,
Fortune favors all.

He suddenly thought of Aldenia reading the paper and seeing his name.
She'd be in a state. He went to the phone and dialed Dwight's asking for
Aldenia. He told his adopted grandmother that he was all right and
promised to tell her more when he'd gotten some sleep. She said she'd
come by after work to check on him if he didn't. He laughed; she'd do it
too.

As he set the handset down in its cradle, the phone started ringing.
That gave him a start, maybe it was the school calling to see why he
wasn't there.

Shit, Jack forgot to call.

He picked it up and answered. He let out a sigh of relief, it was Tony.

'Hey Tony, what's up?'

'Duuuuuude! You're not going to believe this! They cancelled school
today and are sending us all back home until after Thanksgiving!'

That was pretty fucking unusual, 'Why?'

'Four kids died last night, Jerry is trying to get the dope now.'

'Anyone we know?'

'Don't know. But I could make a list of people I'd like it to be.'

Kevin laughed, 'Sure, me too. I'd slap Tyler "I-want-to-be-a-skinhead"
Kincaid's name right at the top.'

Tony chimed in, 'Don't forget his butt-buddies: Josh, Phil, and Mack.
Every time I see that crew together, I always wonder where they left the
white robes and pointy hats.'

Kevin laughed, 'That was a good one. I had a run-in with them last night
behind Dwight's.'

'Dude! Why didn't you say so sooner! Motherfuckers! I'll get Jerry,
Paul, and Gideon, and we'll fuck them up bad for hurting you!'

'Cool your jets, Tony. They're busted up way worse than me. All I needed
was stitches in my knuckles.'

'You're lying! You did not beat down four guys by yourself!'

'Not four, only three, Mack ran like a bitch.'

'I can almost believe that. You swear you're not shitting me?'

'Swear, cross my heart, scout's honor, all that biz.'

'Dude, how come the school's only gay guy is ... hang on, Jerry's coming
back.'

Kevin hoped it wasn't anyone he liked. He looked out the window in the
kitchen door; it was snowing. Big, sloppy flakes were piling up on the
grass and back stoop. He thought he remembered someone at the ER saying
something about a travel advisory. Blah. He hoped it wasn't bad; Mom and
Dad were out there somewhere driving in it.

'Oh fuck, Kevin. You are so not going to believe this shit. I can't even
believe we were just talking about them. It's Tyler, Josh, Phil, and
Mack.'

He stood there shocked as the pieces fell into place. The three dead in
St Mary's E.R. The woman finding the body in the park. He squinted one
eye from the mounting pain in his shoulder. Fuck. Not again.

'Dude? Are you okay? Dude? Kevin?'

His voice a soft monotone, 'Yeah. I'm okay, maybe. I don't know. I think
I'm going to throw up. I'll talk to you later.'

Jerry must have grabbed the phone from Tony, because he was talking now.
'Kevin, man, is Jack there?'

'No,' he swallowed hard. He was going to be sick. He dropped the phone
and staggered to the kitchen sink. The room was spinning and he gagged
twice. He felt okay a second. Then a hot flood of vomit painted the sink
as the gate to Hell opened in his chest.

He was still barfing up his guts when he felt someone hold him. They
gave him support and held him steady as he emptied his guts over and
over.

After an intolerably long time, the gate to Hell closed. He stopped
retching and gagging. He watched in a sort of slow motion as a hand
turned on the tap, mesmerized by the water washing the filth away. His
eyes didn't seem to want to focus. It took a moment to realize he was
crying. He turned and grabbed his supporter and pressed his face into a
shoulder and sobbed miserably.

He heard the person talking to him, but his brain wouldn't process the
sounds. It took a while for him to get through the harsh spike of grief
and return to numbness. He lifted his head and saw it was Jerry. His
ears were still full of sea sounds and Jerry's voice sounded like it was
under water.

Jerry walked him to a chair, then brought him a glass of water after he
sat down. He moved a chair by Kevin's and wrapped an arm around his
shoulders and leaned his head against Kevin's. Kevin couldn't close his
hand around the glass, which is just as well since his hand was visibly
shaking.

Jerry picked up the glass of water in his free hand and brought it to
Kevin's lips. He drank a bit and Jerry set it back on the table. He
looked over at Jerry, who flashed him a worried smile. He saw he'd
gotten snot on Jerry's letterman jacket. This started him crying again.

He crossed his arms on the table in front of him and hid his face and
shame, shaking with the force of his sobs. He was a killer now. He'd as
good as murdered Tyler, Phil, Josh, and Mack. He didn't deserve Jack,
his new family, or his friends. He didn't deserve to live.

* * *

Jack lay on the bed, holding Kevin and trying to comfort him. Kevin was
still crying. They'd already been to see Kevin's therapist. She thought
the deaths had pulled back the scab on the premeditatedly forgotten
past. Four years of therapy, medication, and dermaplasty had helped deal
with the most obvious emotional and physical scars of child abuse; but
there was still much more that would be years healing.

Years of suffering and pain from abuse by his birth-family had left
Kevin with no self-esteem. The four deaths had opened old wounds and
added the feelings of guilt and shame to the existing problems. And the
fact Kevin had witnessed his birth-mother and her boyfriend kill his
birth-father... that was a bad one.

Jack knew Kevin hated Doug, his birth-mother's boyfriend, and never
wanted to be like him. Now he was trapped by the feeling he was turning
into Doug, doomed to become the man he hated. Kevin had been caught
unawares and was defenseless against the sudden change of conditions.

Kevin's therapist had drawn Jack aside; she hoped this was only a
temporary thing, that it wasn't signs of a setback in his treatment. She
warned him to expect the worst. She said to not leave Kevin alone for
any reason, she fully expected a suicide attempt.

Jack hoped for the best, but could only try to steel himself if it
proved to be the worst. If those fucks hadn't died already, he kill them
himself for doing this to Kevin. The poor kid had come so far. It wasn't
right that four fucks who didn't deserve to live had done this to Kevin.
The kid had worked too hard to lose it all over these worthless fuckers.

Jack bled inside when Kevin hurt. This was supposed to be his great time
of life, a happy time. But four dumb fuckers had decided to put
themselves in the way of the fist that watched over Kevin's life. Jack
had to choke back verbalizing his wrath. He genuinely hoped those four
were writhing in whatever Hell was set aside for racist bigots.

He felt sick over seeing Kevin busted up inside like this. Jack stood up
and pulled off his shirt, feeling stupid he hadn't remembered sooner.
You forget a lot in four years when you are trying hard to put the bad
things behind you.

He kicked off his jeans, now in only his underwear he lay back down
beside Kevin, scooted in close and pulled the blankets up over them. He
lay Kevin's right arm across his bare midriff with the hand laying on
Jack's left pec so he could feel Jack's heart-beat. This was the only
way Kevin had been able to sleep when he first found him, he hoped it
still worked.

Kevin was sound asleep within five minutes.

 

[monshanjik]

HIGH SCHOOL TRAUMA
by Monshanjik ( yes, really )

Chapter 3

Kevin heard the wind shaking the glass of the windows. It was a lot
colder than it had been, it wasn't bitter in the bed with Jack, but
there was a chill in the air of the bedroom. Jack had pulled the covers
over them at some point and the surface of Jack's skin felt hot by
comparison to the room.

He was bigger now than he used to be when they slept like this, now he
had to sleep with his head on the pillow with Jack's biceps under his
neck, rather than curled in a ball under his arm. But still he felt
smaller than Jack, and felt protected by him. He felt loved when he was
pressed against Jack.

Jack's body had always been the measure of all things for Kevin. The
shape and look of it was what he measured all men by. Jack was his god
and Kevin felt Jack always would be. Just like he was Jack's boy and
always would be. Kevin had always loved Jack and always would. Jack had
never balked or shirked once in all the time they'd been together.

He pressed his face to Jack's meaty, muscular shoulder and ate his
smell. So clean, spiced, and exotic even after four years. He felt jack
stir, then he heard the soft tigerish rumble of his voice, 'Good
morning, Champ. Feeling any better?'

'Morning, Jack,' he said, the clumsily added, 'I love you so much,' with
a tight squeeze.

'I love you too, Kevin.' It felt so good to hear Jack say it.

'If it would make you never hurt again, Kevin, I'd eat a bucket of
shit.'

Yeah, he would. That was what made Jack so easy to live with and easy to
trust, even if he did make Kevin crazy with word play at times, Jack
really did mean what he said.

Kevin felt the awkward shyness return suddenly, stealing his voice and
quashing the question he so wanted to ask. He wished he could be more
like Jack. He sighed, he hated not being able to say what he felt to
Jack.

Jack must have felt the awkwardness, he had lost his voice again.

Jack sighed, then began speaking, 'Kevin, I love you, whatever you want
to be, want to do, no matter where you go, I will always love you.
You're the little brother I found and intend to keep. Always remember
this, Kevin, you're the only guy I love. I'm yours and no one else's. I
never wanted anything from you, but I have always wanted something for
you. All I have ever wanted was for you to be happy.'

Jack kissed him on top of his head like Jack always did, 'I don't want
to lose you, Champ. You scared me badly yesterday. Don't ever feel you
have to hide anything from me. You can tell me anything, ask me
anything, call me anything. Just don't you ever leave me, you're the
only brother I have.'

Then Jack took Kevin's face in his hands, and kissed him softly on the
mouth. Not a raunchy, sexual kiss, but a kiss that was long and sweet
and chaste, full of a big brother's love and friendship. Jack held Kevin
close, wrapped in his arms.

Kevin wanted to say something about the shit he was having with his
heart, but this closeness and loving feeling was what he needed more.
Saying anything about the episodes would end it and throw everything
into a panic. He just needed to hang tough until after Thanksgiving.
He'd say something then.

* * *

The wind was blustering and gusting snow as the pale sun rose. It was
still too early for much traffic, a heavy blanket of virgin snow covered
everything. Big flakes of snow were still falling. It looked like a
fairy-land of gossamer as he and Jack trudged through the calf-deep snow
along 9th Avenue.

He crossed the 9th Street intersection and saw kids going into the
school via the gym doors. The school was having a memorial for the four
dead boys today. Kevin choked back an urge to cry again. Jack wrapped an
arm around him and pulled him close so they walked hip to hip.

Some people he knew waved to him, he waved back in a non-committal way.
They passed the high school and crossed 8th Street at the intersection
and went on to Dwight's. They stomped the snow off their boots and pants
on the sidewalk, then went in to sit at the counter. Aldenia gave them
hot chocolate and hugs.

He sat drinking hot cocoa, stealing cookies from behind the counter and
more hugs from Aldenia as she passed.

Dwight came out and congratulated him for busting heads. An ex-marine,
Dwight wasn't an overly complex guy, he had watched the tape of Kevin
putting the smack down on them. 'If you ask me, boys, I think those
fellows were looking to knock heads with Javier. They were the sort that
would do a bad turn to anyone, especially anyone with any color to his
skin.'

Kevin thought about it, he hadn't said a word about coming back to help
Javier. If he hadn't Javier probably would have gotten out the door
walking out to get his ass kicked so bad he'd probably have died. He
hated to think anyone would hurt his friend. But it was a pretty
rarified coincidence they'd come along at that time, in that grouping,
on a school night.

Jack nodded his agreement of Dwight's assessment, 'Shit-heads like them
always seem to crop up, no matter how many of 'em you knock down.
World's a better place without them.'

Dwight nodded, 'Know what you mean, Jack. Back in the '60s, there was a
lot more of that sort in these parts. I had to keep a baseball bat by
the back door. Used it plenty too. I didn't fight the goddamn Nazis from
Normandy to Berlin just so I could come home to see the same thing
happen here, no, sir.'

Kevin finally said, 'I think you're right, Big D. But why would anyone
want to rough up Javier? It's not like he put anyone out of work.'

'Oh, I know son, but that sort don't need any reason. And to be honest,
I wish I had ten like Javier. Mitch Taylor, the other dish-washer, you
can't get an ounce of work out of him unless you ram a pound of boot in
his ass. Great white race, my white ass. Nowadays the whites are all
lazy sons of bitches, the lot of them. I tell you what, Kevin, I am
perched right up on the edge of becoming a reverse-bigot, hating my own
race.'

Before Kevin could say anything, Dwight went on, 'I figure it's just me
getting older. But other than you, I don't know a single white kid I'd
trust with a pair of burnt out matches. Seems all they want to do is sit
on the couch and wait for checks to come in the mail. They work harder
at getting out of work than it would take to do the actual work.'

Dwight and Jack probably had plenty more to say on the topic, but Jerry
and Tony came in with big, sad eyes and told him about the memorial.
Kevin was torn by his feelings. Part of him was glad they were dead, the
other part was threatening to eat him alive with guilt.

Tony was jabbering on and on. Kevin's mind was tipping slowly toward
implosion; Jerry was trying to drop hints for Tony to shut up, but Tony
was oblivious. Jerry came to his rescue and slapped Tony in the back of
the head, 'Show some sense, shit-head.'

Tony jerked around and gaped at Jerry, 'What the hell was that for?'

Jerry shifted his large, expressive mouth to one side, then leaned
forward threateningly and said, 'You know, Tony, you're one stupid
motherfucker sometimes.'

Tony rolled his eyes, "Jesus, Jerry, what crawled up your ass?"

Jerry frowned, "Awright." He stood up, spun Tony's stool so he was
facing the door, grabbed Tony by his jacket collar and marched him
outside.

Kevin craned his head to see what was going to happen. He hoped they
didn't fight. Especially over him.

It was like watching a silent movie. Jerry was shouting, steam boiling
around his mouth from the force of his words, jerking his hands around
in an angry fashion. Jerry jabbed a finger at Tony's chest, pretty hard
by the look of it, then slapped Tony on the side of the head above the
ear.

Tony had a sullen, resentful expression that melted into a look of
surprised horror and glanced over at Kevin through the window.

Jerry propped his hands on his hips and stood there nodding his head,
then said something and pointed back at Kevin.

Tony looked like he was going to cry.

Kevin sighed. Yeah, they were fighting over him.

Kevin turned away from the scene and lay his head on the counter and
tried hard to remember what he had felt like this morning laying in bed
with Jack.

* * *

It was pure formality, but he'd had to come in and make a statement.
Even so, Jack had insisted they call Kenneth Hobarth, who came with
seemly haste. Kenneth, four years out of Harvard Law School, had teeth
like a starved hyena when it came to legal matters.

He'd dragged up the line from the WV Code that stated where three or
more were against one in a fight, that the single combatant was legally
entitled to use of deadly force to defend himself. Even had a list of
precedents so long that it didn't speak well of the culture of West
Virginia. Pointing out that Kevin was a minor at the time of the attack
and entitled to the full protection of his juvenile status, that the
Herald-Dispatch had published details of the incident before the legally
proscribed time-limit and given Kevin's age erroneously as 18 instead of
17. Yada, yada, yada, it was a long winded legalese thing that bored
Kevin, even if it was all about him.

The magistrate scratched his ear a moment and issued a court order
expunging any and all mention of Kevin from court doents since he had
acted as a minor and was entitled to juvenile protection, issued court
orders for the expungement of his name from police and fire department
records, and leveled a $25,000 fine on the newspaper for printing
details of the victim before the seventy-two hour waiting-period had
expired.

The magistrate shook his head, "Hobarth, I've done as you've requested.
Now will you kindly explain why you've requested it in my chambers."

Kenneth and the magistrate went off for a while, then Kenneth, Jack and
Kevin went into the hall. Jack was sitting with Kenneth making sure all
the I's were dotted and the T's crossed before they left. Neither of
them wanted this coming back to bite Kevin in the ass.

Kevin looked over at the clock and groaned. 4:30 PM.

Kevin sat with his hands behind his head looking at the young court
secretary. He looked over at Jack and Kenneth, they were only half-way
through all the papers. At least another hour. Kevin looked at the
secretary again. She wasn't there. Kevin swiveled his head and saw the
women's room door closing. He figured even secretaries had to drain
their bladders now and again.

He needed to piss, nudged Jack with his elbow, 'Going to the bathroom.'

Jack looked over, 'Okay, Champ. Sorry this is taking so long.'

Kevin went to the men's room. As he opened the door, he saw the sign to
the left. The original marble facade was still intact, the janitors had
done a good job grouting the letters so they weren't noticeable at a
distance, but standing this close to it, there was no mistaking it. It
read WHITES ONLY.

Kevin let go of the knob and let the door swing shut. He stood there
staring at the relic of legally enfranchised racism. It was in the
county courthouse — that meant it had been the law of the land when it
was built. His mind went to the wording of the Declaration of
Independence: We hold these truths to be self-evident. Obviously not so
self-evident to everyone.

Some people hated him for being gay, some hated Jerry for being black,
some hated Javier for being Mexican. These haters didn't think anyone
except themselves had any right to life, liberty, or the pursuit of
happiness. So much so, they were willing to kill. Was he really any
better than them? Were they really any worse than him?

Nothing made sense. The fact that no one in the past fifteen years had
pried the incised marble block of distilled prejudice from this wall
sickened him. He chewed a nail looking at it, getting angrier by the
minute. He glanced over at Jack and Kenneth. Jack hadn't seen it or he'd
have gone ballistic too.

Kevin felt that burn in his chest again, he knew he should sit down and
chill. His aorta was bulging dangerously, but he couldn't stand to think
that this hidden sign would be here another fifteen years. He stretched
out his hands and ran his fingers along the edge of the stone, trying to
find a grip on it.

It was no use, the stones were set too tightly. His rage was burning
fast and bright. The pain in his chest was like someone was dragging a
razor slow and deep inside him. He started screaming and punching the
hateful sign. It didn't matter that his hands were screaming at him as
he broke stitches loose.

It didn't matter that he couldn't breathe.

Nothing mattered.

* * *

It was bitch-ass cold. The sky was hidden by the heavily falling snow,
but he knew it was dark. You couldn't tell though, a weird glow was
every where because of the falling snow. A biting wind was coming in
random gusts that chomped the heat out of him. The walk over to Kevin's
wasn't too long, but seemed to involve walking only on streets favored
by the wind.

Jerry was pretty certain black people weren't made for snow. He didn't
know if it even snowed in Africa. He didn't feel much love from this
snow and he sure as fuck wasn't giving it any of his.

He felt self-conscious walking in this white neighborhood. He stuck out
a pepper speck in the grits. He wiped his nose on the back of his hand
and looked up and down the street; at least no one was out driving in
this weather. He relaxed a little, but only a little.

Mostly old folks lived in this part of town. Old white folks were the
worst, they saw a young black man walking on the sidewalk and they would
call the cops just because. They wouldn't care that his dad was a
dentist and his mom sat on the city council, all they'd see was whatever
crime story they last saw on the news.

He didn't really understand white folks, most of them anyways. A white
man rapes a woman and they hardly take any notice, but a black man. That
was a whole other matter. Suddenly every white woman in town would reach
over and lock the car door when she saw you waiting at the crosswalk.

He heard a car coming before he saw it, he doubted anyone could tell he
was black with all the clothes he had on, but still he worried. There
were always crazy fuckers always looking for an excuse to give a
solitary black kid shit. If he didn't love Kevin, he'd have just stayed
home. Saved himself the grief.

He was almost there. He'd be inside and warm soon. That thought gave him
some relief from the cold. This damp cold was hateful. He had to watch
his step most of the way 'cause none of these old folks had shoveled
snow off the sidewalk. A few places he'd seen the tiny holes in the snow
where they'd thrown around some salt, but salt wasn't any good when it
was this cold and snowing like this.

He'd bust his ass a few times, tripping where a tree root had shoved up
the sidewalk hiden by the deep snow. And what snow did to the brick
streets in this part of town was something else. You'd about have to be
a gold-medal skater to cross a street on two feet. Didn't matter none
what kind of sole your boots had.

He jumped a bit when he heard a grunt and tumble sound as a big tree
somewhere shifted under the weight of all the snow and dumped its
burden. Shit, he was nervous as hell. Maybe it was foolish, but four
white boys had died. That was never good for black folks.

He saw the 11th Street sign and dared a triumphant whoop. Nineteen
blocks in knee-deep snow was something to celebrate. Only a few feet
more and he'd be warm again. He crossed 10th Avenue and trudged the last
hundred feet with renewed vigor.

Jack had shoveled the sidewalk in front of the house like a decent
person should, and he'd put down salt and sand. It was the only place
Jerry had seen anyone do it right during the walk over. The house looked
like one of the things they restored on that PBS show when it wasn't
buried under snow; still, it looked nice even with all the snow.

He kicked the snow off his boots and legs on the brick banister by the
steps. Jerry went up on the porch and took off his toboggan, shaking the
snow from it before sticking it in a jacket pocket. He bend down and
un-hooked the sides of his galoshes and stepped out of them and picked
them up.

He opened the screen-door and knocked on the glass of the main door. He
saw the hall light come on and then a shadow form on the curtain. Jack
smiled at him when he parted the cloth, then opened the door, 'Hey
Jerry, come in. Thanks for coming over in this slop.'

'Hiya, Jack, no problem.' Holding up his golashes, 'Where you want me to
put these?'

Jack pointed to a place along the wall with a neat row of boots and
shoes on a skinny rug, 'Drop'em in with those. Once you get out of your
Nanook outfit, I'll stow your snow-gear in the coat-closet.'

He peeled out of the heavy jacket and handed it to Jack, then worked his
way out of the insulated overalls. Then off came two sweaters and a pair
of loose jeans. At last he was standing in just a long-sleeved black
thermal shirt, red sweat-pants, and socks. It felt great to get the
weight of all that shit off. Now he could feel the warmth coming back
into his hands and feet and nose.

Jack took the stuff and hung it in the closet, then came back with a
blanket and sent him into the living room to get warm by the fire. He
was more than happy to do it. He pulled the blanket over his shoulders
and went to the living room.

Kevin was sitting on the couch aimed at the TV with a glazed look on his
face, he greeted him, but Kevin just sat there staring at the screen.
That wasn't good.

On the phone, Jack had said they'd shot him full of tranquilizers. He
still didn't understand why Jack had called him, he only said that Kevin
had asked for him to come over. He guessed there wasn't much more to
tell.

It was probably just the drugs talking. Grandma Marcus had done stuff
like that before the cancer took her. His dad had said it was just a
random thought that made it to the lips, that grandma'd forgotten it as
soon as she said it. He figured his dad would know.

But he didn't like the idea of his grandma and Kevin being in the same
shape. She'd died. Tyler and them dying was all right by him, but not
Kevin. He was about the only friend he had at Huntington High. Tony
didn't count for much.

He was a big mouth that caught them more trouble and fights than if he'd
been their enemy. Jerry wasn't even sure why he was friends with Tony.
He always shot his mouth off without thinking, like this morning at
Dwight's.

Kevin had a mouth on him too, but he had a brain. He knew when to talk
shit and when to shut up. He didn't start fights and he didn't run from
them. It was Kevin's mouth that had made Jerry first like him.

Was back in '87, the second half of his freshman year, and was the first
year West Virginia celebrated Martin Luther King Jr Day as an official
state holiday. Tyler Kincaid was talking shit about it in the cafeteria
during lunch. Kevin was a skinny, short thing he'd never even noticed
before, but when Kevin shot his mouth off that day every black kid in
the cafeteria turned and listened.

He'd said 'We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are
created equal, that they are endowed by their creator with certain
unalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit
of happiness. No American man in the Twentieth Century more perfectly
represents or more fully pursued to fruition the meaning of these words
than Dr King, and you have the unmitigated gall to sit there inflated by
your ignorant arrogance and defame him. Tyler, if I didn't respect the
bacteria in my mouth more than you, I'd spit in your face. Since I have
a higher regard for the microbes in my saliva than you, I will spare
them the indignity and shame of having to touch white trash like you.'

Tyler couldn't let that go unanswered and had called Kevin a homo
nigger-lover. Now that's where things got ugly. Maybe Tyler wasn't aware
that Kevin had caught the ear of every black kid eating lunch, maybe he
didn't care. But Kevin didn't back down, 'Who wouldn't rather suck a
black guy's dick than run the chance of spawning an abortion like you.'

Then Kevin stood up on the bench and shouted, 'Hey, everyone, I just
found out! Tyler says I'm a homo nigger-lover! Which one of you black
guys wants me first?'

Jerry didn't know who it was that shouted it, but some wise-ass had shot
back, 'Oh, please, white boy! Sit your skinny ass down, don't you know
us black boys only like bitches with big asses?'

Kevin didn't miss a beat and shot back, 'I guess that's why I saw you
making out with Tyler's mom! She has an ass on her like a forty dollar
mule, but I merit a mule has a better disposition and more teeth!'
Everyone was laughing over that for the rest of the year. The nickname
Forty Dollar had stuck to Tyler ever since then.

Tyler had looked like he was going to have a stroke. He hadn't expected
a public humiliation. He'd been totally dissed by a skinny white kid
half his size. Jerry figured the white kid had bit off more than he
could chew, so decided he needed at least one black friend to help in a
fight with Tyler and his buddies. Jerry convinced half the JV football
team to walk Kevin home after school.

Kevin had done a comedy routine based on Tyler's mom the whole way that
had them all laughing so hard they were crying. The guys from the JV
team walked Kevin to and from school for the rest of the year. One or
two less every week, until one day Jerry had been the only one that
showed up. The rest figured it was okay now. Like Tyler would ever
forget it.

He had been only a little shocked — it was Kevin after all — when on the
way back from school Kevin had asked him straight up if it was true all
black men had big cocks, because if it was true, he wanted to get into
sports so he could drop the soap in the shower.

He'd asked Kevin if he was serious.

All Kevin said was, 'I did shout it in the cafeteria, maybe you didn't
hear. I'm a homo!'

When they went into Kevin's house, he'd shown him that at least one
black guy had a big one. Kevin asked to touch it. He let him. When Kevin
touched it, Jerry knew something about himself he hadn't before. He
really wanted to be with guys. That didn't lay easy on his mind then,
but he'd never let on.

Here it was three years later. Kevin was openly homo and his best
friend. Or at least Kevin thought he was a homo. But his dad said you
have to have sex to have a sexuality, and as far as he knew Kevin was a
virgin. He'd have made a big deal about losing it, trying to gross Jerry
out with gory details of butt-fucking or something. What Kevin wouldn't
have known is that Jerry already knew a lot about sex.

He didn't mind Kevin being gay. He'd slept over plenty of times, even
shared the same bed. Jerry had even been disappointed the first few
times he slept over that Kevin hadn't even asked to suck his dick. Jerry
didn't think he was himself gay or anything, but he'd not turn away a
blow-job. He had actually worried that Kevin thought he was ugly or
something.

He'd gotten over the weird part of their friendship the day Seth McComas
accused him of being Kevin's boyfriend in the school library. Kevin had
stepped right up and smashed the bitch-ass punk in the face with an big
dictionary, shouting, 'Feel the power of knowledge! Even brazen,
touch-witted cock-suckers need friends, you artless, gap-toothed,
pig-swiving, ill-starred, hasty-witted maggot-pie, whose dank, cavernous
tooth-hole consumes all truth and reason!' Punctuating each word after
'knowledge' with another blow from the heavy book.

Seth had toppled somewhere around pig-swiving, Jerry still didn't know
what pig-swiving meant, but he figured it was another way of saying
pig-pucking. Seth may have stood up later, but his pride never got up
from that place on the floor. The stigma of getting your ass whipped by
a fag wasn't something you wanted to carry the rest of your time in high
school. Way worse than being a fag.

After the skinny, little whitebread beat down a senior linebacker with a
dictionary, word spread fast, and no one gave him or Kevin shit. The
weird thing was once everyone thought he was gay too, the girls had
started beating a path to Jerry. Each of them set on converting him
back.

So he wasn't knocking a good thing, being "homo" for him meant getting
lots of pussy. Not that it was what he wanted, but a dick doesn't ask
too many questions when it's getting regular work.

Kevin had complained bitterly that it wasn't fair, he said if he had the
reputation of being straight that guys wouldn't come flocking to him
begging him to fuck them in the ass. Jerry had to agree, they wouldn't.
He knew they didn't, but he also knew a thing or two about Tony and Paul
that Kevin didn't.

Straight or not, some boys would suck a dick or let a good friend pump
up their ass if you promised to never tell.

Back then, when they were fifteen, Kevin looked like he was eleven or
twelve. He was looked as out of place in Huntington High as Doogie
Howser did being a doctor. Things had changed since then, the growth
shots Kevin was getting from Dr Kelly had done more to him in three
years than nature had done to Jerry in ten years.

Kevin had shot up like a weed and had grown muscles so fast it was
scary. And the way Jerry felt about his friend had changed. He thought
Kevin was a total stud now. Kevin looked like the guys in the magazines
Jerry had hidden under his bed, the ones that made him get off bigger
and shoot farther than any pussy.

Jerry moved over and sat on the couch by his boyfriend. God, he wished
Kevin was his boyfriend for real.

He saw that stupid sci-fi show was on, Quantum Leap. Even jacked up on
pills, he couldn't understand how Kevin could take this show. It was
like the Knight Rider and Highway to Heaven had fucked and given birth
to a kid stupider and uglier than they were.

Jerry was more an In the Heat of the Night and Law and Order fan, and
felt a degree of racial shame over shows like Fresh Prince of Bel Air
and In Living Color. Jerry wasn't ashamed of being black, but he'd never
even seen an inner city ghetto. And he didn't understand how being black
meant he was supposed to automatically like shows that were full of that
East Side, West Side bullshit.

And even though his mom and dad were white-collar, they had about as
much in common with the Huxtables on The Cosby Show, as Jerry did with
the Carlton Banks. Which was to say nothing. Jerry looked over at Kevin,
he wondered if Kevin felt as remote from the white characters on TV
shows, as he did from the black characters.

Kevin had a sickly pallor and was breathing kind of in gasps, not bad
like he couldn't catch air. But it wasn't a normal way of breathing.
Something bad must have happened, really bad.

He heard the Quantum Leap theme music, glanced at the TV, the end
credits were flashing on the screen. He looked back at Kevin, he was
looking back at him with eyes so sad Jerry felt a lump in his throat. He
swallowed and asked Kevin if he was okay.

Kevin blinked, worked a corner of his mouth around, then said, 'I'm
going to die a virgin.'

He was always saying this, but this time there was something unnatural
in the way Kevin said it. Something distinctly not Kevin-ish. It was a
flat statement, like a thing already set in stone. 'What do you mean,
Kev?'

'I'm having surgery on Monday, they're going to stop my heart. I'll be
dead. They'll turn on a big pump thing while my heart is stopped, but
I'll be dead.'

Jerry felt like his eyebrows were going to crawl back over his head and
down his back. He looked around for Jack to get a better explanation, he
didn't see Jack. He probably went upstairs. He went over to the foot of
the stairs and shouted for Jack.

'Jack what the Hell's going on?' There was a hysterical edge in his
voice he hadn't intended.

Jack came down the stairs shushing him to keep his voice down and looked
nervously over at Kevin, a relieved look came over him as he saw nothing
had changed since he'd last checked on Kevin.

Jerry asked again, 'Jack, what's going on with Kevin?'

Jack had a puzzled expression on his face. 'I guess he never told you
about his heart. Well, it's his heart.'

Jerry felt a panic coming on. 'Dude, You're going to have to tell me
more than that, or I am going to have a panic attack or something.'

Jack sighed and said in an apologetic, resigned voice, 'I'm sorry Jerry,
I just assumed he told you everything. Kevin's aorta... you know what
that is?'

'Yeah, I know what that is.'

'Well, Kevin has a thoracic aortic arch aneurysm, a big bulge in the
aorta, he's had it a long time but it's gotten worse today and a
specialist is flying in to do the surgery on Monday.'

Jerry grimaced and suck air through his teeth, he knew how bad those
were. An abdominal aneurysm had killed his Grandpa Marcus, he'd stayed
home from church 'cause of a bad stomach ache not knowing it was an
aneurysm. Grandma Marcus had come home after church and found him dead
on the floor holding a bottle of milk of magnesia.

Jack's eyes got a wet sad look, he said softly 'I know, I tried to get
Kevin to stay at the hospital, but he argued that since they couldn't do
anything until Monday, that if it was going to happen, he'd rather die
at home.'

Jack swallowed a few times, 'I didn't know what else to do, so I brought
him home. He asked me to call you, so I did. I didn't know you didn't
know anything. I thought you guys told each other everything.'

Jerry thought they did too. Or, at least, he'd thought Kevin told him
everything. An emotion he never felt before hit him in the gut, Jerry
sat down hard on the stairs.

Jesus...

He put his hands on his thighs, started rocking, arched his back forward
like a man with emphysema trying to catch his breath.

Fucking...

He felt like throwing up. He put his hands on his head, hollow mournful
sounds started coming out of him.

Christ.

Kevin was dying in slow motion, the bullet was out of the muzzle now,
moving toward his heart. No way for Jerry to take the bullet for him.

* * *

Great, now he had two broken boys to prop up with the tooth-pick of
emotional strength he had left.

Jack didn't know how much more of this funeral atmosphere he could take.
He closed his eyes and breathed slowly, snatching up the filaments of
inner calm he had left and built a emotional raft so he could stay
afloat in the rise tide of grief. He ground the heel of his hand into
his forehead forcing the stress-contracted muscles to stretch and relax.

He had to keep it together until Mom and Dad got here. They'd called
from St Louis this morning, saying they'd probably be delayed until
Sunday. He'd missed their second call because he'd been at the hospital
with Kevin. All the Caller ID unit said was UNAVAILABLE.

He didn't relish telling them about Kevin's degrading condition, still
he hoped they'd call back soon. He really needed to hear their voices so
he could get his inner strength back.

He did a quick visual check on Jerry, he was pulling it back together.
He'd be shaky, but he would hold it together for Kevin.

Jack looked in on Kevin, still mostly vegetated from the tranqs. 'You
holding up, Champ?'

He grunted with a whatever look, then said 'Thirsty.'

'I'll get you a soda.'

Jack went into the kitchen and pulled a can of lemon-lime soda out of
the fridge, closed the door and sat the soda on the counter. He fished
around in the counter drawers until he located the box of flexi-straws.
He closed the drawer with his leg and opened the can of soda. He added a
straw to the can, dropping the box on the counter, took the soda to
Kevin in the living room.

Jerry has sitting on the couch now with his arm around Kevin, his head
leaned against Kevin's. Jack hated to intrude on their private moment,
so he went back to the kitchen and gave them some more time alone. Jerry
was Kevin's best friend at school.

They had made an unlikely pair when they started hanging together. Jerry
had been a V-shape of laughing, black teen muscle and Kevin had been a
mouth and a pen-stroke of white ink back then. Kevin had never explained
why one day he was suddenly walking to and from school with a bodyguard
of black teens. It had eventually dropped off to just Jerry.

Nor had either of the boys ever explained why Kevin got detention for
beating up a brute three times his size. Jack remembered his own years
of high school under the constant scrutiny of his parents and how
miserable it had made him. So Jack never pried into Kevin's private
affairs at school.

They were both good kids. Bright and earnest, they never got into
delinquent hijinks, no drinking or drugs. Other than giving Jack the
occasional "are you retarded?" look, they were unusually respectful for
teen boys. So he had never felt any reason to question or distrust Kevin
or any of his friends.

Well, there had been that one kid, but he wasn't really Kevin's friend,
more an acquaintance. Aaron McSomething, he didn't remember the name
after two years, but he hoped Kevin had learnt to judge character better
since him. They'd gone to the mall together and Aaron had gotten caught
shoplifting. Kevin had naively tried to defend his new friend against
the charge and gotten dragged into the mess for his trouble.

The boys had had some private time, so Jack headed back with the soda.
He was a half-step into the living room before he realized Kevin wasn't
just resting his head in Jerry's lap.

Whoa!

Jack did a quick 180° turn on his heel, went right back into the kitchen
and sat down at the table. He sat there a while waiting for the mild
shock to die down.

Once he navigated from the theory of Kevin being gay to the practice, he
pulled a pen out of the old pickle jar on the table, picked up the
newspaper and flipped to the crossword by the comics. The estimated time
was 20 minutes, he'd do the Cryptoquip and Jumble too. That should give
them enough time.

 

[monshanjik]

HIGH SCHOOL TRAUMA
by Monshanjik ( yes, really )

Chapter 4 - Christmas Eve

He gave a heavy open-mouthed sigh. In the mirror, Kevin watched his
fingers tracing the pink railroad scar down the center of his pale
chest. He still wasn't used to seeing it. The bone below wasn't healed
yet and hurt like Hell, but it hurt far less than the aneurysm that had
necessitated it falling under the surgeon's blade.

He looked down at the yellowing pages of the old Muscle Culture magazine
on the edge of the lavatory at the photo of Tony Sansone. Sansone's wet
muscles shining in the harsh light of the photographer's flash.
Beautiful pecs with big pouty nipples, rippling lats, abs like a giant's
knuckles, and taught, proud trapeziuses glistening like polished wood.

Kevin thought his body was close to that... or, at least, it used to
be... before the surgery. He still had much of the shape, but none of
his old strength. Coach Ball had put him on the bench for the rest of
the school year. Kevin didn't disagree with Coach's decision, but that
didn't mean he liked it.

The vascular surgeon and cardiologist had told him plainly he'd not be
able to compete for at least another year, and, depending on how things
went inside his chest during the next year, maybe never again. He hadn't
planned on having the surgery until after he graduated. Life made other
plans.

Well, life and Tyler Kincaid. He couldn't complain, he was alive while
Tyler and his buddies were all deader than hammers. And almost dying had
brought about a strange transformation in his friendship with Jerry
Byrd. One he was still trying to develop a reasonable explanation for.

His foster-grandmother Aldenia had told him 'don't look a gift horse in
the mouth.'

Jack said it was just a country euphemism and he should put a leash on
his lurid imagination, Kevin hoped it was. He'd had an unsettling flash
of neurosis thinking she'd seen him sword-swallowing Jerry's junk on the
couch two days before the surgery. It wasn't at all better knowing that
Jack actually had. Had he known it going into the surgery, he'd probably
have wished himself dead.

He picked up the old magazine and went to his bedroom to lay down. He
always felt tired these days. He dropped the magazine on the bed-side
table and sat on the bed. He looked over at the clock, 4:17 PM. It would
be dark soon.

He should put on some clothes. It'd be getting bitter outside after the
sun went down. Jack would bitch if he didn't. Jerry would bitch even
more. He forced himself to get up and pull on a long-sleeved thermal
shirt and a set of flannel pajamas. The pajama top he wore as an open
jacket, it was too big but he liked them that way.

He'd rather go downstairs and wait for Jack and Jerry to get back, but
he'd promised to stay put until they got back. The stairs were his
enemy, he got lightheaded and winded whether he was going up or down. He
headed back towards the bed, changed his mind and went to the library.
It was warmer in there.

In the library, he picked up the afghan Aldenia had made him from the
back of the chair and went over to the saffron-upholstered chaise-lounge
closer to the gas heater. He adjusted the fire a little higher before
easing into the chaise; he worked the afghan around with his feet and
hands until he was in a cocoon of his grandmother's love.

He hadn't planned on napping, but now it seemed a pretty good idea. He
looked at the fire dancing on the ceramic radiator plates. A glowing
light-show of yellows, oranges, and reds with a purpling layer of blue
flames. His eyes were heavier already.

* * *

Jack scratched his face, the aftershave Aldenia had given him smelled
great, but had something in it that didn't like him. Not enough to cause
an allergic reaction, but it had dried his skin out. Maybe it was just
the cold, he vaguely remembered his dad saying something about shaving
and cold weather once.

He looked around for Jerry, saw his head through the trees two rows
over. The trees had been picked over, all that remained looked a bit
mangy. He kicked himself for not coming last week when he first saw they
were selling Christmas trees.

He went over to Jerry, 'See anything you like.'

Jerry gave him a get real look, 'Dude, we have firewood back at the
house that looks better than these things.'

Jack laughed. 'I guess we could always cut one off your parent's
driveway.'

Jerry snorted, then frowned, 'They'd probably call the cops if they even
saw me coming up the drive way.'

Jack didn't get it. Jerry's mom and dad had always seemed liberal,
free-thinking people. He'd been shocked and more than a little indignant
that they'd thrown Jerry out and cut him off when Jerry told them he'd
decided to be Kevin's boyfriend. Overnight, they turned into Christian
fundamentalists.

It had been a bumpy six weeks for everyone. Jack was just happy that it
was finally pulling up out of the nose dive. Jerry was a great kid. Jack
would be happy when Kevin stopped referring to Jerry as my Mandingo.
Jack rubbed his numb nose to warm it, this is what comes from caving in
to big-eyed expressions and letting brainy teens watch sordid b-movies
about the old South.

Jack gave Jerry a one armed hug, 'Well, fuck'em, you've got a better
family now... I'd only throw you out if you tried to get me to eat
chittlins.'

Jerry made a disgusted face, 'Dude, that ain't ever gonna happen.'

Jack said, 'Good... we still have to pick one of these fire hazards
soon, or Kevin will think we got eaten by wolves.'

'Is it too late to get an artificial one?'

'I guess there's still time. But everything will be closing up soon, so
we'll need to bust ass to get to the mall before they close.'

They got back in the Nova and drove up 5th Avenue toward US Route 60.
While they waited for the light to change at 29th Street, Jerry asked,
'Jack, you're not jealous or anything are you?'

'I don't think so. Am I acting jealous?'

'Well, no, but I don't want to get thrown out of another house.'

'You've got nothing to worry about there, Jerry.'

* * *

He wiped the spit off his mouth and chin, and blinked to clear the sleep
from his eyes. He heard someone on the porch stomping snow off their
shoes. Seemed all it had done for the past month is snow, melt, then
snow again.

He heard the knock at the door, he expected Jack or Jerry to answer it.
When the knock was repeated he shouted for them, hearing no replying
shout he got up and made his way carefully down the stairs. He got to
the door as the visitor knocked the third time.

He opened the door and saw Brent, Jerry's little brother. Before he
could greet him, Brent asked nervously 'Is Jerry here?'

'No, but he should be back soon. You can come in and wait for him.'

Brent frowned. 'No, I'll just wait on the porch.'

'It's cold, you can wait in the living room. I don't bite.'

'No, thanks, I'll just wait on the porch.'

Kevin could hear the resolve in the boy's voice, so didn't press. 'Suit
yourself, Brent. Knock if you change your mind.'

He closed the door and went to the living room. The fire had died down,
so he put a few logs in and moved them around with the poker so they'd
not choke out the others. Standing up he went light headed and nearly
fell. He silently damned his weakened state and flopped onto the couch.

He saw that Jack had moved one of the armchairs to the south wall to
clear a space for the Christmas tree. He glanced over at the clock on
the mantle, 5:40 PM. He'd napped about an hour. He was a little hungry.
He waited for the dizzy spell to pass, then went to the kitchen to see
if there was any left-over pizza.

He found the pizza in a big Ziploc bag in the refrigerator, so grabbed a
slice and held it between his teeth as he poured himself a glass of
milk. Tucking the milk jug back in the fridge, he closed the door and
went to the table by the back door to eat.

He made a face as he drank the first swallow. It was watery and chalky
tasting — skim milk. He chewed the pizza and swallowed it in spite of
the slightly vinyl taste of soy sausage and soy cheese. Jack was taking
this heart-healthy thing too far. What is the point of eating if nothing
tastes right or good?

In fact, what was the point of living if you didn't enjoy it?

The old kitschy cat-clock on the wall said it was almost six o'clock,
time for his evening pill-up. He was taking decreasing doses of blood
pressure medicine, so the dizziness and stumbling should end eventually.
They'd taken him off the Nimodipine before sending him home from the
hospital, which was good because that shit had him so weak he'd not been
able to get out of bed at all.

Pills, pills, pills. His life was best characterized as an endless
parade of pills in every shape and in every color of the rainbow.
Perforated blue ones to soothe him, round red ones to keep him smiling,
long white ones to make him piss, big yellow ones to prevent infections,
peacock blue ones to make him sleep, and on and on and on.

He located the needed pills in the wire-basket on the counter: Diovan,
Prednisone, Valium, Papaverine, and Biaxin XL. He also took a potassium
supplement. One doctor had said to take the supplement in the morning
opposite the Diovan; another had said to take it with, so he was taking
it morning and evening. The worst that could happen is he would piss
more.

As if. He already spent more time in the bathroom than Jerry and Jack
combined. Thinking of this, of course, made him want to piss. Figures.
He sighed. He could either piss in the kitchen sink or try to make the
stairs on his own.

He knew better than to ask Brent for help, he cordially hated Kevin for
"making my brother queer." As if anyone could really do that. Jerry was
as stubborn as a mule, an animal, much to Kevin's fascination, he most
satisfactorily resembled in other portions of his anatomy.

Oh, well. There was no avoiding it, he'd just have to bleach the sink
afterwards. He went over to the sink and got about it. The painkillers
and assorted others had contracted his junk to a ridiculously small
thing, he had to work it a bit to get it long enough to aim at the
bottom of the sink.

He fluttered his eyelids in ecstasy as he relieved his screaming
bladder. Even though his piss was mostly water like everyone's, it had a
rank smell from all the meds.

He turned on the water and tucked his junk back in. He washed his hands
and then started bleaching down surfaces until neither mephitic funk nor
funky microbe could survive the onslaught. He rinsed more water through
the trap to make sure none of his piss remained to stink up the kitchen.

It was about time for the weather, so he went to the couch in the living
room and found the remote, flipped on the TV and found WSAZ. After a
segment about local churches taking Christmas food-baskets to poor
families, Jules Huffman promised an even whiter Christmas with up to 30
inches more snow in the mountains, about 18 inches in the Huntington
area.

He watched a bit of the sports segment, until he became disgusted by the
sports commentator. Kenny Bass, a Clarksburg native, enthusiastically
said he thought Fairmont's Mike Lewis had the best chance of taking the
all-state AAA outstanding wrestling award, ‘now that Huntington's Kevin
Armitage and Jerry Byrd are out for the season.’

He didn't fault Bass for being happy for Lewis finally getting a shot.
Lewis was good, almost as good as Kevin was before he'd had to have the
surgery. But really, he thought Ryan on his own team was better than
Lewis, even if Ryan was as big as a bus. Ryan just needed to lose fifty
pounds so he'd be wrestling in a more advantageous weight class.

It seemed stupid to Kevin that they even had a 289 pound weight class —
which Kevin alternated between calling 'lard-ass class' and 'sumo class'
— in high school wrestling. It went against the notions of modern
athleticism and the Greco-Roman ideal of fitness. He involuntarily
curled a lip in disgust as he thought about the pool this past summer.

The pool had been surrounded and full of people, more than half of them
had more in common physically with Jabba the Hutt than a human being. It
defied logic that the people you'd least want to see in scant clothing
were the ones most prone to baring flesh. Fit, muscular types avoided
the city pool.

If he hadn't needed his eyes as a lifeguard he'd have gladly dug them
out to keep from seeing all the walking, talking fat-bags. Kevin didn't
think people should let themselves get that fat voluntarily.

Sure, some people had health problems or were taking meds that did it —
but not 80% of the population of West Virginia. He shook his head. That
was sheer fucking laziness and over-eating. He'd kill himself before he
ever got into that sort of un-shape.

Still, being athletic hadn't spared him anything. That bitch his mother
had fucked him up before he was even born. At least it was fixed now, or
as fixed as it could get. He wished someone would have told him how much
it would hurt after the surgery. He was seriously scared he might get
addicted to the painkillers, then he'd maybe end up like the beached
whales at the pool.

Again, he promised himself that as soon as he finished physical therapy
and had a clean bill of health from the doctors, he was hitting the gym
every day. He'd have a body like Jack if it killed him.

He sighed. He had almost done it, almost killed himself. He never should
have started sneaking the steroids. Coach would have shit-canned him
from the team if he'd known. Jack would have been livid with him for
doing that to his body. He thought he knew what he was doing, he'd been
so careful.

He hadn't considered that the increased blood pressure would damage his
congenital aneurysm. Even not knowing the risk, he'd been cautious in
using them. If he hadn't been ... well, best to not think about that. He
was going to keep it all-natural this time. No more shortcuts.

He saw car headlights flash across the curtains as someone turned into
the alley. He heard them pull close to the house, he smiled, it was Jack
and Jerry. Then he remembered Brent on the porch. Blah. They'd argue.
Then, when he thought Kevin was asleep, Jerry would hide in the bathroom
and cry again.

Things were so fucked up between Jerry and his family now. Jerry was too
proud to admit it hurt him, showing only a defiant face to Kevin. But
the walls of the house weren't that thick, he heard Jerry cry in the
bathroom every time. Jack heard it too.

It must have been worse at first, while he was still in the hospital. In
the mornings, Jack would visit him and have a hollow, heart-sick look
that at first Kevin had dismissed as worry. But Jerry always had a
bright, shining face when he visited. Even drugged up Kevin had known
something wasn't right.

He still remembered Jerry telling him that he'd decided to live with
them now, which had made Kevin very happy. The way Jerry told it, he
hadn't lied to Kevin, but he'd made it sound a lot more upbeat and happy
than the whole truth.

Kevin still didn't know all the details, but even Tony was steering
away. It must have been ugly on a number of fronts all at once. The
thing that said more than anything was the conspicuous absence of a
get-well card or flowers from Jerry's parents.

That and the weird tension he'd felt at school when he'd gone over the
last day before the Christmas break to get copies of lesson plans from
his teachers since he'd be sitting out most of the remaining school year
convalescing. The only person who'd put a name to the cause for all the
negative energy was Brent. He'd run over to Kevin as he left the
building to spit on him and announce he hated Kevin for turning his
brother queer.

He'd come home with questions then. He hadn't liked the answers he got.
It made him very sad to think how wrong he'd been about Jerry's parents.
They were members of the NAACP for fuck's sake. Jerry's grandparents had
marched with Dr King. How the hell could they throw their son out for
being gay?

And then there was how it felt inside him for his part. Under all the
rage and indignation, he felt like a betrayer. If he'd never asked Jerry
to help him not die a virgin ... but he had. And it had all gone to
pieces from there. Kevin hadn't expected a lifetime commitment from
Jerry because of a blowjob.

He didn't even know if Jerry was really gay or if he'd been pushed into
the role by cirstances beyond his control. The joke about him being
Kevin's boyfriend the past three years had turned sour. It was probably
Brent out there on the porch who'd stirred it up. This was his first
year at Huntington High and he'd probably been stigmatized for the
friendship his brother had with a gay, white boy.

Kevin didn't understand any of it. He didn't want to lose his best
friend and it killed his soul to think he'd destroyed Jerry's life for
just a blow-job.

Life was never fair, but, right now, it was cruel.

* * *

Jack puffed his cheeks and released the air between his lips. He looked
over at Jerry, the kid had a sad, frustrated look on his face. Jack
couldn't even imagine the pressures the guy was operating under. He
honestly didn't know how the kid made it through a day.

'You want me to tell him to leave?'

Jerry looked at him. He was slow answering. Finally he said, 'No, I'll
deal with this. I'll drag him over to the park if he starts anything
that makes me wanna scream at him.'

'Okay. I'll take this stuff in through the kitchen so you two can... do
whatever.'

Jack got out of the car and pulled the bags out of the trunk, carrying
them to the back door of the house. He unlocked the door and saw Kevin
steadying himself by holding the door frame to the Hall. He started to
bitch, but bit his tongue, wasn't Kevin's fault, they'd been gone longer
than promised.

He set the bags down. 'You did okay on the stairs I see.'

'I was careful, didn't run any races answering the door. Wouldn't have
bothered if I'd known who it was.'

He had the hollow tone of the painkillers in his voice. Changing the
subject, Jack asked, 'Did you remember to eat something with the pills?'

'Yeah, had a slice of pizza and a glass of milk.'

'That's not very much, you need to eat to get better, you know.'

'If it were real pizza, I'd have eaten more.'

Jack glanced at the clock, sighed, everything would be closed or closing
now. The stuff for Christmas dinner had left little room in the old
fridge for normal groceries. He'd call around to pizza places to see who
was still open.

'You win, you'll get real pizza. I suppose you'll want all the fat,
salt, and caffeine I can find?'

Kevin smiled, 'That'd be great.' His affect was a little flat, but there
was more vibrancy because of the prospect of real food.

He went to the wall-phone and, since he had the number memorized, dialed
Gino's on 10th Street first. They were still cooking, but he'd have to
pick it up. He ordered three large pizzas, one for each with the
toppings each of them liked, chips, and 2-liters. Got the total, hung up
the phone, and said, 'I'll bring the tree in now, you go sit on the
couch. We'll do all the Christmas stuff after I get back with the food.'

He went back out to the Nova and pulled the box with the artificial tree
out of the trunk. He could here the murmur of Jerry and his brother on
the front porch. He sighed heavily. If this visit ruined their
Christmas, he would forget his promise to Kevin and interfere plenty.

* * *

'Mom wants you to come home for Christmas. Dad does too.'

'They made their choice when you put all my shit on the street.'

'Why do you have to be that way, Jerry?'

'Do I know you? You were there. You blabbed your fucking mouth and made
it happen. So don't you "have to be that way" me. You have no right even
be here talking to me.'

'I said I'm sorry. I just want us to be a family again.'

'Never gonna happen. You should've kept your god damned mouth shut, but
you didn't.'

'You're my brother...'

'Stop right there. You and me stopped being anything when you spit on
Kevin. You're lucky I didn't beat your ass then, you have Kevin to thank
for the fact I didn't.'

'I can't believe you're choosing that white fag over your family.'

Jerry slapped Brent's ugly mouth so hard he toppled over. 'Don't you
ever talk like that about Kevin again, motherfucker.'

Brent looked at the blood on his hand, and snarled, 'I hate you, you
fucking queer. I hope you die of AIDS.' Then scrambled off the porch and
ran into the night.

Jerry, crying, quietly whispered to the empty night, 'Back at you,
motherfucker.'

He let himself cry until the heartbreak was back under control, then
went inside. He was cold now, colder inside than out.

* * *

Jack really hated this. It was bad enough that they threw Jerry out for
being gay, but constantly doing something to twist the knife was getting
to be too much. Every time the poor kid got his legs back under him,
they delivered another heartless reminder.

Jack had driven Jerry over the day after they'd pushed him out so the
guy could get some of his clothes. They both expected it to be just a
blow-up that would soon heal once tempers cooled. Jack had even
suggested that he'd find they'd already seen how foolish they'd been.

Finding all Jerry's stuff like trash on the curb was not what he'd
expected to find. The worst was seeing Jerry's mom glaring hatefully at
them from the window as Jack loaded the bags and boxes into the Nova
while Jerry bawled his eyes out.

Jack had never before felt even the slightest urge to hit a woman, until
then. If she'd left the safety of her home that day, he'd had beat the
smirk off her face permanently. That malignant bitch and her husband
could rot in Hell.

The cashier knocked on his window, he rolled it down and paid her with a
big tip because it was Christmas, then took the pizzas and bags of soda
and chips, setting the pizza boxes on the passenger seat and gingerly
setting the bags in the passenger-side floorboard. If he was careful the
chips might not all be ground to dust by the time he got home.

He started up the Nova and drove slowly through the snowy streets back
to the house. The snow was falling fast and heavy now, piling up on the
windshield so fast the wipers could hardly keep up. He drove extra slow
since he'd already spun out and slid on the way over.

A pedestrian flipped him the finger at an intersection. That'd be
Jerry's brother walking home after delivering a Christmas gift of
emotional torment to Jerry. Pity the kid hadn't been in the street, in
these weather conditions he could have rolled the big Nova right over
him and no one would blame anything but the icy roads.

There was no way to resolve Jerry's problems for him. Even if they were
to eventually make up, the memory would always be there like a cancer.
If they all died, it would stop the constant new hurts, but open up a
greater hurt. They had fucked Jerry's life about as thoroughly as they
could.

Jack sighed, Jerry and Kevin were so young. They'd probably not last as
lovers, Jerry was too hurt by the reaction of his family. Jerry
obviously loved Kevin, but he'd lost his family for Kevin. Could any
lover make up for such a loss?

Jack feared the break-up. Jerry was a proud, young man, but he had no
where else to go. He'd stay out of desperation until the relationship
was long over and septic.

Jack hoped he was wrong. He admittedly was no expert on gay life or
relationships. He only knew from watching the explosions caused by
break-ups rocking the lives of the gay students at college that it was
seldom pretty or on friendly terms.

All he could do was try to make Jerry a part of their family without
stepping on any land-mines left by the old one. Maybe he should turn the
solarium into a bedroom for Jerry; he'd already considered it several
times in the past two weeks. Even if Jerry never used it, it would be a
constant reminder that he belonged and that Kevin's family meant to keep
him.

He'd talk with him after Kevin went to bed. Really talk with him.

 

[monshanjik]

HIGH SCHOOL TRAUMA
by Monshanjik ( yes, really )

Chapter 5 - Christmas Day

It had to be about the gayest Christmas tree ever. He was amused by the
fact that Jack claimed it was all his idea. He couldn't help but laugh
looking at it — a white artificial tree with pink satin-balls, pink
tinsel garland, and pink lights, with a big pink star on top. Jack was
busy re-wrapping all the presents in shiny pink paper. James sipped his
eggnog and watched his favorite piece of eye-candy wrap gifts.

The love-birds had gone upstairs a long while ago so Kevin could powder
his nose, leaving James and Jack downstairs. When they hadn't returned
in a timely fashion, he deduced they'd gone to bed. It was nearly one
o'clock in the morning; decent people would already be in bed. Indecent
people like himself would be at a club starting to pair off for a more
active sense of going to bed.

Motioning towards the tree, James said, 'Seriously, this pagan relic
undermines my working assumption as to the basis of your many refusals
of my equally numerous advances. I am now inclined to believe it is
because you find me unattractive, rather than your stated claim that you
haven't the slightest gay inclination.'

'Oh, come off it James. It's pretty.'

'It's pink.'

'Okay. It's pretty in pink.'

James rolled his eyes at the pun. 'If you're going to play such
dastardly tricks as this tree on me, the least you could do is add some
bourbon to this eggnog to help steady my nerves. I have an adverse
nervous reaction to unexpected revelatory experiences.'

'Hush, you old pedant, you know I don't drink. And with two depressed
teens in the house I'm not currently stocking booze or wrist-razors.'

'Pish, posh, the least you could do is allow me to smoke inside, rather
than on the cold, lonely porch.'

'I told you, you can smoke in the basement.'

'A shuddersome thought, spiders, man, spiders.'

Jack gave him a dyspeptic look, 'There's no pleasing you, you know?'

James chuckled. 'Such is the plight of a person of refined sensitivity
and learning in this dull, leaden age of faddish health based on a
barbarous notion of fitness based on abstention from all things
pleasurable, frivolous exercise, and selective starvation. I now but
await the return of the spurious claims of the curative powers of
Fletcherism, yogurt enemas, and pruritic Woolen underclothes to make
complete the regression of history.'

Jack gave him a frustrated look. 'Do you sit at home reading the
encyclopedia and dictionary in hopes of some day finding an excuse to
use the things you learn?'

'Indeed, Sir, I do ever strive to increase my knowledge, but not for so
jejune and empty a purpose as you so basely accuse. I endeavor to polish
my wits rather than basely polish my gristle-knob over images of
Herculean lads such as yourself.'

'You need laid in the worst way.'

James smiled sardonically. 'I would prefer the best way, but if all you
are offering is the ‘wurst, I humbly accept. Shall we do it here on the
floor like rough men of low virtue, or shall we mount the stairs to your
manly bower?'

Jack sighed. 'I guess this is your revenge on me for being straight, to
drill holes in my head with inflated sentences. You know, you'd have
more friends if you'd quit being such a poser.'

Dropping the pose, he said, 'It isn't very rewarding to play word-games
with you these days, you are bitchy.'

Jack made a face at him. 'Pot, kettle.'

James made a dismissive gesture. 'I'm effeminate, you aren't. It doesn't
suit you.'

'So you're admitting you're queeny?'

James laughed at the weak tort. 'In its proper season. But, seriously,
when are you going to tell me why you asked me to come over in the
middle of a blizzard? It's evident it wasn't because you enjoy my wit
and pithy humor.'

Jack gave him an exasperated look. 'You live four houses away, it's not
like you had to do much more than cross the street.'

James remained silent and gave him a sour look.

'Okay, I need your help with something.'

Fighting down a momentary urge to flee, he asked, 'Please tell me it's
not assembling some ten thousand part horror with instructions in
Japanese. I'll be of absolutely no use in such a thing, most likely a
serious hindrance.'

Jack smiled sheepishly, 'No. But it's about as bad.'

James groaned. He had known he should have made some excuse to avoid
leaving the house when Jack phoned, but dreamy visions of sex with Jack
under a Christmas tree had ensnared him. Now he was trapped into a
hare-brained scheme of some sort. He resigned himself to his fate, but
he was determined to win some concession for himself. 'Fine. I'll help
on the condition I can watch you shower.'

Jack's face spread into a triumphant smile. 'Done.'

'Done? You accept?'

...Great God.

Jack had agreed too quickly to the insincere, outrageous demand. This
was going to be at very least ghastly, most probably emotionally or
physically crippling. 'Please, tell me I haven't just agreed to help you
dismember and move a body on Christmas Day.'

'Come with me to the basement and I'll show you.'

James groaned again. This did not bode well.

In the basement, Jack explained the project he had in mind: A room for
Jerry to call his own with all of his old things in it. It seemed simple
enough until Jack showed him the elements of the composition. It was
then that it became apparent that Jack did indeed need his help.

There was no longer any doubt in James's mind that whereas Jack was
without peer in ability to manipulate him, Jack was lacking even the
most rudimentary understanding of color coordination. Like all straight
men, he had the fashion sensibilities of a nine year old. James looked
again at the paint. Maybe the comparison was a grievous slight to nine
year olds.

James was soon engaged in a heated argument in hushed tones in the
basement as he sought to dissuade Jack from painting the solarium a
garish Aztec gold — which looked to James like nothing less than a stain
brought about by a tragic misfire of the bowels after eating an iffy
chicken vindaloo.

But this was not the worst offence. The assortment of black and yellow
beddings, curtains, and whatnot all emblazoned with the Pittsburg
Steelers’ logo was the next worst. The thing that left James speechless
was the glaring green indoor-outdoor carpet he meant lay beneath it all.

He explained that regardless of the fact that the putrid yellow did in
some vague manner resemble the yellow on the assembled clutter; the
vibrant green rug would not tolerate it. The eye simply would not abide
it. He even conceded that it wasn't inconceivable that the vile color
might have some use. He didn't know what, but it might, maybe a room for
a blind person.

Jack finally relented on the matter of the wall-paint. The walls would
remain white.

He asked Jack where he had the bed stored. James gave an exaggerated
sigh when Jack admitted he hadn't thought of that. James put his hands
over his face and tried to not scream. Thinking hard and fast, he knew
the hotel had some spares in case of breakage or emergencies. He
extracted a promise from Jack to support him if he lost his job if they
were not replaced before the inventory in February.

An hour and a half later they were back with a stolen full-sized
mattress set and Hollywood bed frame, facing the daunting challenge of
getting them upstairs without waking Jerry and Kevin. James was on the
point of madness by the time all was in the appointed room and Jack said
they had forgotten the pillows. When he saw James's mind was about to
break, Jack clarified by adding in the car.

The remainder of the work was trifling, merely changing the curtains and
dressing the bed. A dresser and desk would have to be bought and added
later, but as it stood, the room was functional. Jack and he brought up
Jerry's clothing from the laundry room and hung them in the closet and
arranged what was appropriate on the shelves, including a boot-box of
porn magazines with a mostly empty bottle of Jergen's hand lotion on
top.

James couldn't help nosing into the magazines, and made the discovery
that after the two pristine issues of Playboy at the top of the stack,
there was a collection of Torso and Jock magazines that had far greater
evidence of use — frequent use from the state of the pages. Jack slapped
his hand and restored the collection to its former state and placed it
on the closet shelf.

At least there no longer remained the slightest doubt about the
functional health of Jerry's progenitive organs or his sexual leanings.
James now understood the mysterious change of residences for the young
man. He also felt a pang of regret for under estimating Jack. In fact,
Jack had climbed rather high in James's regard, so he regretfully
declined the agreed payment when it was offered.

This, James quietly gloated, left Jack in his debt and he fully meant to
use this to his advantage when they next haggled over a payment for some
less noble endeavor.

* * *

Jerry couldn't sleep, Brent had seen to that.

He lay a long time in the darkness just listening to Kevin breathe. He
heard Jack and Jacks drive off in Jack's Nova; a while later, they had
returned and tried to be sneaky on the stairs with little success. He
heard their whispered voices, not able to tell what was said. But they
were obviously up to something.

Eventually he heard James leave. Jack came upstairs and fell into his
bed in the next room.

Jerry waited quietly for a while, not certain how long it might take for
Jack to fall off to sleep. Jack didn't snore, so Jerry waited a long
while before slipping out of bed.

The room was chilly after being under the electric blanket, so he found
and pulled on a sweatshirt from the pile on the floor. He crept over to
the door, looked over at Kevin. The silhouette of his shape didn't stir,
satisfied he hadn't woken Kevin getting out of bed, he eased open the
door, stepped through, and eased it shut without a sound.

After the surprise his family had given him throwing him out, Jerry
didn't like surprises. Good or bad, they all filled him with panic and
dread. He wasn't nosy, he told himself, just looking out for himself.
Maybe he was paranoid, but he felt he had a right to be.

He tiptoed to the solarium, for that was where it sounded like the pair
of Santa's helpers had been doing their work. The door was open, but the
light was off, he reached around the door and flipped the light switch.

The first thing that caught his eye was the autographed poster of Mario
Lemieux. With an increasing feeling of surprise he scanned the room.
Pittsburgh Steelers, Penguins, Pirates, and Harlequins memorabilia was
spread around the room on walls and surfaces. Some of it was his old
stuff, but much of it was new.

There was a football on the nightstand, Jerry moved to it and picked it
up. It was a team autograph ball, Merrill Hoge and Rod Woodson had
signed it above and below the laces.

In a frame on the opposite wall he saw Woodson's autographed jersey.
Never give up Jerry, it said by the signature in the 6. A similar
un-signed No.26 jersey lay on the bed. He swallowed and blinked his eyes
to clear the sudden tears.

As he set the football down, he saw the autographed baseball laying on
the table. He hadn't seen it at first because it had been hidden by the
larger football and his shock. He traded out the football for the
baseball and looked at it. He turned it over in his hand and found Bobby
Bonilla's and Jay Bell's signatures.

Jerry sat down on the bed still holding the baseball. His parents had
given him things his whole life, but never had they given him things
that reached inside and touched his heart like this.

'Look in the drawer of the nightstand.'

He jerked his head and saw Jack standing in the door. He swallowed and
did as Jack had suggested. He found a stack of January '91 issues of gay
porn magazines, a box of Magnum condoms, and a tube of KY-jelly. He
gaped at Jack, who said, 'I figured it was time you got some fresh
stuff.'

Jack came and set by him on the bed, put an arm around him. 'You don't
have to sleep in here. But this is your room now. I know we'll never be
able to replace them, but we're here for you. We won't ever give up on
you and we don't want you to ever feel you aren't welcome here.'

Jack kissed him on top of the head like he did Kevin. 'You're one of the
family now, Jerry. So no more hiding in the bathroom to cry. You come
find me and I'll cry with you. Okay?'

'Okay... good thing you're here, because I'm getting ready to cry.'

* * *

After his shower, Kevin stood looking out the bedroom window at the
white world outside. Jules Huffman had been conservative in his estimate
for eighteen inches of new snow. He could see by the vague shapes of the
cars along the street beneath it, the snow had to be no less than
waist-deep in the street. And it could be no less than chest-deep where
it lay atop the older snow.

The sky was a uniform gray and only a few straggling flakes from the
over-night snow-storm drifted down from the clouds. The windows were
edged with fern-like patterns of frost and there was a distinct chill
standing near them. Kevin's nipples ached from being drawn down to hard
buttons by the chill.

Jerry came in and scolded him for being in only a towel. 'Are you trying
to catch pneumonia?'

Keeping his voice bland, 'No, I was waiting on you.'

A worried expression on his face, Jerry asked, 'You need some help
getting dressed?'

'Not exactly.' He dropped the towel and went to the bed. 'I was thinking
I'd give you your Christmas present up here, unless you want to fuck me
downstairs under the tree.'

'Um, Kevin, I don't think that...'

'I already asked the doctor; he said as long as you don't stick a leg up
inside me by mistake, it'll be fine.' Kevin sat on the bed and patted
the empty spot beside him.

'A doctor wouldn't say that,' Jerry said with flat disbelief.

Kevin had to admit to himself, the thought of Jerry's big thing up in
him was a little scary, but he knew if they didn't start while he was
still on painkillers, it wasn't ever going to happen. He'd squall like a
girl and stop.

He really had asked the doctor. The poor man had been shocked to say the
least, but had in the end approached the problem from a proper medical
perspective when goaded into it.

'Really, I told him how big you are. Don't argue, close the door and get
in the bed. I want your inside me.'

Jerry closed the door and came to bed.

* * *

He was bent over with the over door open when he heard the regular
squeaking above of the old bed springs in Kevin's room. Jack made a
face. He looked at the turkey baster in his hand and where it was in the
turkey. He squeezed the bulb and pushed the turkey back in, closing the
oven door.

James looked at him with eyes wide, but thankfully remained silent.

He stood there befuddled a while, then lay the baster in the sink and
tried to concentrate on cooking. He didn't do a very good job of it.
Kevin was proving himself to have a rather enthusiastic mouth for the
unseen but obvious act taking place upstairs.

James with a rather exaggerated look of bewilderment tapped his chest
with one hand, 'My, my, my, but Kevin does have a lovely singing voice.'

'Hush, you old queen, I'm surprised your eyes aren't shaped like
keyholes.'

When Kevin shouted triumphantly, 'Yes! All of it! Now fuck the shit out
of me, my big-dicked Mandingo!' — Jack was genuinely wrecked and
squirming nervously, not knowing if he should burst out laughing or run
screaming.

James held up a hand, nervously waggled his fingers and excused himself.
'I do believe I will brave the spiders and have a smoke in the
basement.' Then went with embarrassed hasted to have a cigarette.

The grinding of the springs and the knocking of the headboard against
the wall went on for a considerable time. Jack leaned on the counter and
wondered if he would ever get a full night's sleep again. He was a
little amazed by Jerry's stamina and the resiliency of Kevin's colon.
His guts ached in sympathy pain for the work-out Kevin's were getting.

He sighed with relief when they finally finished. He collected his
scattered wits and returned to concentrating on cooking.

James came up from the basement with a nervous expression of stifled
horror, the poor guy really did have a morbid fear of spiders. Jack
watched as James took a pill from a small, ornate gold box he pulled
from his jacket pocket and swallowed it with the glass of the Sauvignon
Blanc he'd brought with him.

James stood there afterwards, rubbing one temple with a finger, head
tilted to one side, looking mildly stunned. Some color started to creep
back into his features, finally composing himself and asking Jack,
'Would you — on this most special occasion — join me in a toast to the
recent loss of your brother's rectal virginity and future continence?'

Although Jack seldom drank, he did consent to a splash of the wine for a
toast. Mostly for the sake of his own nerves.

A while later, Kevin and Jerry came downstairs holding hands. Jerry,
still sex-drunk, had a distracted smile, while Kevin had an expression
that could only be described as incredulous.

Kevin looked at Jack and said, 'I think I will be wearing a diaper the
rest of my life.'

He said to James, 'I hope you got me a butt-plug for Christmas, I'm
going to need it.'

Speechless, James blinked a few times, then turned and looked out the
window over the sink with a stultified expression, his face blood red
with embarrassment. Jack almost felt sorry for the guy.

The happy couple went through the pantry to the dining room, Kevin
drawing Jerry along.

Jack lay the spoon in his hand down and looked into the middle distance,
he made a mental note to make it a point to explain to Kevin that there
are some things a brother doesn't need to know. Requests for butt-plugs
and statements of wearing diapers the rest of one's life because one's
lover is hung hugely featuring prominently on that list.

He was broken out of this line of thinking by the oven timer announcing
that the turkey should be done.

* * *

It was real. He had done it with Kevin. Really done it. It hadn't been
like the frustrating, clumsy stuff he'd done Tony or Paul. Kevin
actually wanted to do it, wanted him all the way in. Not just a few
inches like Tony and Paul. Tony and Paul had never wanted to kiss when
they played around, but Kevin had been like he wanted to eat his face.

And it had been so good. Better than any hand, or mouth, or pussy, or
ass had ever been. The only thing that was close to feeling that good
was when he looked at the magazines and he jacked off imagining his
lotion-slick hand was a bodybuilder's muscled ass.

The best part of it all was the feeling it was okay to do it. Jack and
James had been down stairs, they had to hear. Jerry had been scared they
would hear, but Kevin's mouth ... he'd been loud and proud of what they
were doing. It had been embarrassing at first and he'd almost lost his
hard-on from it. But then it started making him harder than he'd ever
been.

Now they were eating turkey and dressing like it was the most normal
thing in the world to do after butt-fucking your boyfriend. Nothing like
this would ever have happened with them. He hoped he never saw them
again.

He looked at Jack, James, and Kevin in a way he never had before. They
were a family. His family. They wanted him here. They didn't see color.
Kevin's mom and dad had talked to him on the phone like he was their own
kid. It had felt weird this morning, but now it all made sense. They
were his parents now. His mom and his dad, even if it was a little weird
to be fucking his new white brother.

None of them cared he was gay. None of them cared Kevin was gay. None of
them cared that Kevin and him were being gay together. He'd never have
to hide who he was again, and this was the best Christmas gift he'd ever
gotten.

 

[monshanjik]

HIGH SCHOOL TRAUMA
by Monshanjik ( yes, really )

Chapter 6 - Prom Night

Kevin sat enraptured, looking at his best friend and lover. He looked so
good in the white suit with pink accessories and pink rose boutonniere.
Kevin had on the same, but he thought it looked especially good on Jerry
because of his dark skin. He loved the cocoa luster of Kevin's body
clothed or naked.

Only two more weeks until they graduated and they could leave high
school behind. No more of the stupid rumors or reflexive bigotry of
teens. Sure, there would always be more rumors and bigotry, but they
were hardened against it after the past six months being treated like
pariahs. The haters had pushed them into relying only on each other, had
made them have to become strong and independent.

So here they were at Permond's at a table by the window over-looking the
river, sharing a meal of duck à l'orange and holding hands on the table.
James was the head chef here now; he'd prepared the meal and served them
himself, much to the envy of all the people who'd ostracized them the
past six month.

Kevin didn't care about their envious glances, they didn't exist. All
that mattered to him was Jerry's beautiful brown eyes. They mirrored
back to him the love he felt for Jerry.

Jerry smiled softly, 'Don't want to disappoint them.'

The moved into a long, tender kiss as the air was peppered with groaned
protests of disgust from the some of the other teens. He heard Tony from
a near by table say, 'Aw, don't be gross, Armitage!' followed by the
sound of a slap and Paul's voice saying, 'Shaddup, Tony! You're just
jealous they got dates.'

They broke their kiss only when James came out with a big silver cart
and made them Crêpes Suzette, they disgusted James's purist senses by
requesting he serve it à la mode. But knowing them as he did, he had
come prepared and lumped the vanilla ice cream on the plates anyway.

He pushed the cart away complaining bitterly in an affected French
accent that they were swine of the lowest order, saying he was surprised
they hadn't asked for ice cream on the Caesar salad as well.

They burst out laughing at his silly antics. When they were done
tittering, they took turns feeding one another bites of the excellent
dish.

When they finished eating, most of the others had left to do that last
of prom night traditions. Gideon and Paul came over while their dates,
Monny and Sherry, went to the bathroom. Gideon had been brave and danced
with each of them earlier; Paul had joked and offered to suck them off
instead since he couldn't dance worth a shit.

Gideon asked 'You guys doing anything later? Monny and Sherry have to be
home by midnight, so we ain't scoring tonight.'

Paul slapped Gideon on the shoulder, 'Speak for yourself numb-nuts, I
got mine in the car before we ate.'

Gideon gawked, 'You did?'

Paul smiled like a Cheshire cat, 'I'll let you sniff my dick if you
want.'

They all laughed at Paul's insincere offer, Jerry saying, 'You ain't
right.'

They talked a while and agree to meet up at the house. Jack had gone out
to California to visit Mom and Dad after graduation from Marshall, but
he'd left them a case of beer to celebrate their own graduation on the
promise they not drink it all themselves and not bring any more into the
house without his permission. Kevin didn't like the idea of drinking
much, it reminded him too much of his birth-mother and her boyfriend, so
that was an easy promise to give.

Until Paul and Gideon had suggested hanging out, Kevin had thought Jack
might come back from California to find it all untouched. This to him
was just fine, but seemed in some vague way unmanly to Jerry. Kevin knew
Jerry would like to drink a few, so he had offered to share the beer
with their two remaining friends from high school.

They parted company when the girls came out of the bathroom. Kevin and
Jerry hugged James and thanked him for a perfect evening, then went back
to the house to change out of the suits into shorts and t-shirts; daring
a quick bit of sixty-nine with their hard junk pulled out the legs of
their soft gym-shorts on the floor of the living room, which they
finished just minutes before Paul and Gideon arrived in Paul's
road-whale of a station-wagon.

Jerry was still in the kitchen washing the sex off his face when Kevin
answered the door to let them in. Gideon came through the door
proclaiming 'We're here for your women! What? No women! What kind of
whorehouse is this! Let's hope the beer isn't as flat as these bitches'
chests!' This had them all cackling.

They had a first beer, even he did. The first few swallows were kind of
gagtastic, but he got used to the flavor about the fourth swallow. He
started to feel less inhibited about the middle of the second bottle, so
that when Gideon asked what they did together, rather than say anything
Kevin ran his hand up Jerry's shorts-leg and pulled out the black mamba.

He was actually surprised that Jerry laughed and slapped his hands,
tucking his junk back in. He was frustrated with Jerry a second, until
he realized how inappropriately he'd just acted. 'Oh my god, I can't
believe I just did that,' he gasped.

Gideon looked like he might have a stroke, but Paul coolly sipped on his
beer, adjusting his own crotch-clutter.

'Jesus, Kevin, I didn't mean do it in front of me.'

Paul slapped the back of Gideon's head, 'You asked. Maybe next time you
won't.'

Gideon threw a sour expression at Paul, ‘Enough with the head-slaps
already, I ain't Tony. Where is your bitch anyway?’

Paul shrugged, 'He said something about seeing if he could get into a
bar with his cousin's ID.'

They all rolled their eyes at that. As if. Most of the bars in
Huntington didn't even bother to check for under-age drinkers at the
door. Half of the kids at school went to Gumby's every weekend, the
other half went to the 1896 Club.

They'd be doing road-checks for drunk drivers tonight. Even though
they'd fallen out, Kevin still hoped Tony wasn't stupid enough to try
driving after he getting tanked.

By one o'clock, they had finished off the beer. They stood on the porch
while Paul smoked a Marlboro; it had finally cooled off and was raining
cats and dogs. Gideon wanted more beer or real booze if they could get
any, but Kevin set his foot down, he'd promised Jack to not bring
anything more into the house.

Paul said, 'A promise is a promise, nuff said.'

Gideon tried to haggle, 'Oh c'mon, we don't have to take it inside, we
can drink on the porch.'

Jerry frowned and said gruffly, 'We said no, Gideon. Drop it.'

'Well, this is lame, I barely have a buzz.'

Paul looked at him sourly. 'I'm not taking you back to your house
shit-faced again, Gideon. Your mom is a big enough bitch without
punching her buttons.'

'Fine, I'll see if I can't get some beer over at Lesley's'

They all groaned, Lesley had dropped out junior year with a big belly.
Probably half the guys at school sighed with relief when she finally
admitted it was Mr. Roach, the biology teacher, who'd given her the
swollen belly.

Kevin had been scandalized because Mr. Roach was a disgusting slob that
didn't wash his hands before eating after frog dissections, other people
were more put out by the fact he was over fifty and had grandkids
Lesley's age. No matter which way you saw it, everyone agreed Lesley was
the official Class of 1991 slut. Rumor had it she was merely honoring a
long family tradition.

'Suit yourself, I'm staying right here. Don't come begging for a ride if
you get shit-faced, I won't do it.'

'Oh, fuck you, Paul. You aren't the only guy with a car. Besides, Lesley
might be giving out free pussy tonight, so I might not need a ride
home.'

'I think you'd be better off to keep away from that whore, Gideon. She's
been with everyone and their dog.'

'I swear, Paul, sometimes I think you're gay too. Pussy's pussy.'

Paul gave him a blank stare and flipped him the finger. 'I'm a pussy
connoisseur — I don't like girls that smell like a bait shop with bad
refrigeration.'

Everyone knew Gideon drank too much and that he was an ugly drunk. He
got into more fights than any kid at school. Kevin wasn't sure if this
was going to turn into one of the legendary events Gideon was famous
for, but he wasn't about to let it happen on his front porch.

'Gideon, if you're leaving, leave already. Otherwise shut your face or
I'll shut it for you.'

Gideon backed down, but left in a huff, calling them a bunch of homos as
he hit the rainy street.

Paul let off a big fart, 'Here's a kiss good-bye for ya, Gideon!'

He turned to Kevin and Jerry, 'Sorry I brought him, really. He's turned
into nothing but an alcoholic.'

They shook their heads and talked about the guys they all knew who were
getting an early start on drinking themselves to death. Between them,
they could think of about twenty they didn't expect to ever do more than
drink and hold down minimum wage jobs. They were none of them what you'd
call big drinkers, for them six beers was a big buzz.

Paul was going off to be a trainer at a wrestling camp for the summer,
then to WVU, up in Morgantown, in the fall on a wrestling scholarship.
Gideon hadn't gotten any scholarships and was floating around with no
ambition. Even big-mouth Tony had gotten a scholarship at Marshall, so
they figured that Gideon's widely-known drinking and fighting had
probably ruined any hope of one.

Kevin and Jerry had decided to go to Miskatonic University, a small
private university in Massachusetts, to get away from Huntington. The
past year had ruined them on Huntington. Too many bad memories. Jack's
dad had tried to convince them a short run in the Navy wasn't a bad
idea, but they had laughed and reminded him that they were gay.

Maybe a third of the guys graduating were going into the army or navy
after graduation because they had nothing better waiting on them after
the walk across the stage. A few of the guys Jerry knew on the football
team had joined the marines, but mostly it was all army.

Paul said half of Ft. Bragg in North Carolina was from West Virginia. It
wasn't anything but a statement of fact. They all knew someone stationed
there who'd graduated in the past two years.

Paul frowned, 'It's bittersweet. Graduating, losing friends, the way
we've all grown up and apart. Maybe two more weeks and we might never
seen each another again, except maybe at reunions.'

Jerry nodded, 'Don't even think I'd bother to come to one. Not like I'm
going to miss most of the cock-heads from high school.'

Kevin agreed, 'Senior year hasn't done much to make me feel much love
for our alma mater.'

Paul, looking off in the direction Gideon had gone with a sour
expression, said, 'I think I'll miss some of the teachers more than some
of our classmates.'

Kevin softened, 'Don't be too hard on him, Paul, not his fault his dad
decided to blow his brains out. Gideon's never been right since.'

Paul gave them a strange look, then said, 'Gideon's dad molested him and
his little brother, you know?'

'Jesus Christ,' Jerry hissed.

Kevin felt suddenly numb.

Paul cleared his throat and spit into the dark, 'He tried to do the same
shit with me, but I went to the cops. That's why Gideon's dad killed
himself. If you ask me, he got off easy.'

'Holy shit, Paul. That's harsh,' Kevin was put off by the coldness in
Paul's voice.

Paul shrugged, then continued in a matter of fact tone, 'He was a
good-looking guy, if he'd asked, I might have said yes. But he didn't,
just pulled down my trunks in the pool and tried to stick his thing in
my ass.'

They sat there in silence a while. Kevin really regretted trying to suck
Jerry's dick in front of Gideon. Kevin was sorting out things in his
head. Trying to make sense of the things he'd just learned. The six
beers he'd drank didn't make it easy.

It had to have taken a lot of courage for Gideon to dance with them at
the Prom. Kevin didn't want to dis Gideon now, it didn't feel right. His
emotions must have been out on his face for all to see. Jerry pulled him
over for a hug.

Paul mocked them lightly, 'Aw, how sweet.'

Jerry stretched out an arm toward Paul and flipped him a finger.

Paul laughed, 'That reminds me.'

He walked over and wrapped his arms around both of them, saying, 'I'm
horny enough to ride a door knob, but I'm going to need stretched before
I can take Jerry's mule dick. Kevin, you wanna do me in the ass first?'

Kevin didn't know whether to cry, laugh, choke, or shit his pants.

 

[xcommunicated]

loved it, thank you

 

[.Lord-Vader.]

I will copy & paste it into a notepad text so that i can read it when i go to bed later.

Thanks *mons* sterling work.

Ps.

Does it have any good action/adventure or is it a lurve story.? :x

Will.

 

[monshanjik]

the sex is played down a mite in favour of the story - I really didn't want to fall into the repetitious "and his baby-arm spread my tender arse petals" sort of narrative LOL

 

[TEres321]

Long! But it was well written.

 

[faroutplanetboi]

I stumbled across this looking for something else, my dear monshanjik, and I consider myself very fortunate to have done so! :thumbs up:

In the space of six not overly long chapters, you have created believable, memorable, multidimensional characters and a story with enough twists and turns to make a damn good roller coaster ride, or a much longer 'whodunit!' :thinking:

Being a gay adopted jock with a congenital heart defect would be a pretty heavy burden for any young man to bear, but Kevin faces his challenges with admirable determination and guts, not to mention the support of a tower of strength in Jack. There really are people like that, 'str8, but not narrow,' that make the world a better place just by being themselves. :heart:

Jerry also turns out to have equally incredible reserves of inner strength and courage. For most of his life, he has been able to rely on the comforts of a middle class background to buffer him against the sting of racism. When he finally realizes that he's gay as well as black, and decides to be fully himself, all that vanishes with devastating swiftness!

Kevin and Jerry make the journey from best friends to lovers in the midst of one shock after another, but they learn that being together gives them the power to overcome adversity. 'Love conquers all' might seem a cliché to the cynical, but there's as much truth as poetry in that thought. :heart:

As you will have guessed by now, my dear monshanjik, I really loved your story! Thanks for sharing it! :cheers: