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    Sasha Distan
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Don't Shout - 3. Chapter 3

‘Dude what happened to you?’ Dina grinned at Jared as he approached, sitting back against the stairs, a book on the ground in front of her, ‘You look like you just woke up.’

Jared collapsed on the ground next to her and tried not to wince at the pain in his arse as he sat. He’d been in the bathrooms, trying to look presentable, surveying the damage. His t-shirt was sort of ruined, and the water made it more obvious so he’d shoved it in his bag and put on his hoodie, hoping no one would notice. The bruise Joel had left on his shoulder was close enough to the collar of his clothes for him to worry constantly that it was visible. Jared had re-mussed his brown hair and washed his face before leaving the bathroom. Obviously his effort had been sort of in vain.

‘I’m fine. Just tired. Where’s Shelby?’

‘With Drew and Lena getting food. Where’ve you been anyways? With your new friend?’

‘No.’ Jared hated that thinking of Cole made him feel guilty for being with Joel. Joel wasn’t the best of lovers, he didn’t make any song and dance about caring for Jared in a more romantic sense, but Jared had known exactly what he’d signed up for when he and Joel had started down this road. Jared was tactile, he loved to be touched, and Joel could provide that for him. Joel didn’t care that he was deaf, it didn’t make a difference to him when they were fucking. And Jared had decided fairly early on that the chances of finding his happily ever after as a gay deaf boy were slim enough without adding celibate virgin to the list.

‘So what’s he like?’ Dina asked. Jared couldn’t blame her for being curious. Cole looked like the sort of boy who had pretty girls falling over him all the time. Jared grit his teeth. Why did he feel so damn bad about it then? Cole probably wasn’t even gay, it wasn’t like he’d asked Jared out or anything. I wish… Jared shook his head and sighed.

‘He seems nice. He drives that huge red truck out front.’ Jared summarized the little he knew about Cole, ‘He rides a horse called Dune and he doesn’t read books.’

Jared wasn’t surprised when Dina had the exact same reaction as Abi.

‘Such a shame. Cute but hopeless boyfriend material.’ She looked up from Jared to see Shelby, and pointed for Jared’s benefit, ‘Your sister bought you lunch.’

They settled around to have lunch, sitting in a rough circle under the stairs, Lena practically in Drew’s lap, the two of them eating from the same tray. Shelby ate her sandwich in between translating everything everyone said. Jared joked that it was how she stayed so thin, she never had any time to eat anything. She’d bought him a ragu meatball wrap with cheesy chips, his favourite; so either Shelby was trying to butter him up to get rid of Cole or she had actually accepted his new friendship with the tall boy. Jared suspected the former option.

They ate and chatted, Lena all excited about the fact that her parents were going away the weekend after next. She began to organise a little party, and Drew and Jared exchanged a look of exasperation over the girl’s heads. Jared rubbed his neck where Joel had bitten him and flex the ache. The movement was not lost on Shelby. Without warning he grabbed his hoodie and pulled the neck aside to expose the mark. Her finger signs came fat and frantic, half formed and angry.

‘Where is that bastard. I’ll fucking kill him.’

‘Shelby don’t. It wasn’t-’ but Jared was cut off as Shelby slapped his hands away, not wanting or caring for his explanation. She looked at him again, her eyes hard, instinct and emotion warring under her skin, then he jumped up and stormed off. Jared signed a half apology to his friends and took off running after his twin.

*

Cole turned automatically when Wilton’s eyes focused on something over his shoulder. His heart thudded to imagine Jared coming to find him here in the music common room. His brain registered that Jared’s sister stood there about half a second before she hit him, the force of the slap enough to send him falling backwards to the floor. Everything in the common room went still, every teenage hormone and melodrama-itch tuned into the scene.

“You unbelievable shit!” Shelby was shouting at him, standing over him as he propped himself up on his elbows, his face stinging, “How dare you do that to him!”

“What the fuck Shelby?” Cole rolled onto his knees and started to get up, “What’s going on?”

“Oh like you don’t know! Get off me!” This second statement was directed at Jared, her twins wrapped strong arms around his sister, pinning her hands to her sides. Shelby was weaker but her will triumphed over her brothers and she wriggled from his grip. She yanked his collar aside and turned to shout at Cole again, “Don’t you stand there and tell me this is nothing! What is this?”

Cole stared at the obvious deep love-bite on Jared’s neck. The boy flushed crimson, and wrestled from his sister’s grasp, straightening his clothes to cover the mark of teeth and lustful sucking. The image burned in Cole’s mind as he gaping like a fish, unable to find any words to say anything.

Jared was signing, grabbing his sister’s arm again and again, trying to tell her something she was too furious to want to know.

“I never did anything to him.” Cole had the presence of mind to face Jared when he spoke, making sure the boy could read his lips, “I asked him to go for a drink with me. I never…touched him.”

The emptiness in his voice made Shelby turn to look at her brother. Jared looked between his twin and Cole, then back again. He turned and ran leaving Cole looking at shattered bits of his fantasies.

Shelby spoke first.

“Sorry, about your face.”

Cole was pleased when Wilton stepped in to reply.

“I think you better go Shelby. Go talk to your brother.”

For about half a second Cole thought Shelby was going to kick off again, but she turned and stalked off, her shoulders hunched. Wilton turned back to Cole who had sunk onto the bench,

“Jesus that girl had hit hard. You’re gonna have a great bruise in the morning buddy.” Wilton paused, “Cole? Dude are you OK?”

“His sister thought I’d…” he made a vague gesture to the side of his neck, “Ha…just my luck. The boy I like is gay, but he must already have some secret boyfriend. Great…”

“Plenty of f-”

“Wilton I swear if you finish that sentence I’ll smash your fucking guitar. Just don’t OK?”

Wilton gripped the neck of his guitar lovingly.

“He didn’t mean it my love,” Wilton stroked the instrument, “Sorry Cole. Come on bud, I think you might need that drink sooner rather than later.”

*

Cole had not felt like drowning his sorrows in the pub which he’d planned on taking Jared to so he drove the Hilux round the supermarket and went in to buy a bottle of bourbon. Wilton had looked shocked when he’d returned to car, Jack Daniels in hand.

“That’s a big bottle Cole.” His voice held a certain level of trepidation.

“Hope you bought your drinking boots.” Cole gunned the engine, made several people in the car park jump clean out of their shoes and squealed the tires on exiting the car park, just to show that he could.

Wilton watched his friend as Cole ran through every job he had when he got home. He parked the truck outside the stables and checked the weather. It was chill, but not due to rain and the horses could stay out for the night. Wilton lent against the hood of the Hilux and Cole made up the horse dinners, chaff and alfalfa, pony nuts, molasses and sugar beet, oats, maize and barely out of big steel drums. Cole soaked the dinners and Wilton helped him put the buckets in the back of the truck. The horse feed smelt sweet, like hay and sugar mixed together. They drove around the fields, feeding the horses, checking on water levels and filling troughs from the big blue water bowser.

Cole spent some time in the field with Dune, checking the horse over as he munched his dinner, and Wilton waited, not wanting to interrupt the privacy on the conversation that his friend had with the beast. That done, Cole checked on the tack room, swept and locked up the yard and then drove around the farm, checking on the jobs of his younger siblings.

Wilton had spent a bit of time in Black Rock farm over that last year and had become more accustomed to the noise, the barking, the fighting over food. Cole kicked off his boots and went straight to the cupboard for two thick glass tumblers.

“Caden you still need to get the chickens in, it’s getting dark out.” Cole stamped around the kitchen, which doubled as the main living room for all the family, pulling together old roast chicken and bread from the fridge, assembling dinner with a swiftness that still shocked Wilton.

“I’ll do it later. Game’s on.”

Cole threw a bread roll at his rebellious sibiling.

“Now pip-squeak. Get it done.” Caden got up grumbling and Cole turned to his oldest sibling. “Wilton and I are going upstairs and I don’t wanna be disturbed unless the farm is on fire. Tell mum we don’t need dinner.”

Cole waited for the beginning of Clayton’s nod before striding from the room. It wasn’t until he’d downed two drinks in ten seconds that Wilton had managed to get any sense out of him at all. Cole’s room was small, but he didn’t have to share, the plus side of getting his own space when all his siblings had to make do. He had a big double bed and his room was decorated with posters of trucks and muscle cars and photos of quad bike races he’d been to, horses and shows. Next to the bed was a photo of Cole and Dune, taken the day Dune had arrived. Fourteen year old Cole looked young for his age, gangly having not yet grown into his body yet, and excited as a small child at Christmas. Wilton liked the photo.

He sat on Cole’s desk chair and sipped his bourbon. Cole lay on his bed, his glass on the floor, watching Wilton upside down.

“I have the shitest luck.”

“Cole…” Wilton kept his tone measured, surely one of them had to be sensible.

“Oh fuck Wil just let me moan,” Cole knew he was being a bit overdramatic, but he figured he was allowed one big outburst a year, “Of all the rotten luck. Yay, the boy I fancy is gay. And shit, he obviously has some boyfriend who gives him hickeys in the middle of the day.”

“I doubt he has a boyfriend,” Wilton took a slurp of bourbon and regretted it, he was more of a beer man, “If he had a boyfriend his sister would know and then she wouldn’t have come gunning straight for you. Sounds like a secret lover to me.”

Cole poured and downed another drink. They were much bigger than shots and he liked the numbness spreading in his skull.

“Like that makes my problems any better. Jared’s hardly going to throw his secret man over for me now is he?” Cole probed his face with questing fingers.

“How’s the face?”

“Hurts. That girl knows how to slap someone.” Cole pushed his tongue into his cheek, his teeth had cut it on the inside, “What am I going to do?”

“Cole have you ever had a date?” Wilton sounded sceptical and wasn’t surprised when Cole shook his head, “Do you not think that pining all your hopes on this Jared kid is a bit much?”

Cole glared at him and poured another drink.

“Wilton have you met many of the gay guys around here?”

“Some.”

“Indulge me, describe them.”

“Well mostly they’re in the drama and art department. Colourful, loud…oh,” Wilton made the connections in his head, “Not like you.”

“There’s a reason I haven’t told anyone y’know,” Cole drank his fourth bourbon and set the glass on the floor with a thud. He rolled over and stared at the ceiling, “I mean what I am going to have in common with any of those guys?”

“Well you don’t have anything in common with me and we get along fine.”

“Well that’s just luck,” Cole sighed heavily, “How on earth do you manage it Wil? How do you talk to someone you like?”

Wilton put his head on one side and stared at his friend. Cole was a big presence, larger than life, brash and confident, and Wilton had never before thought of his companion as being shy. He counted off facts on his fingers. No dates, no boyfriend, not ‘out’ and now apparently shite at flirting.

“Cole…”

“Don’t Wil…” Cole put his hands over his face, “Never flirted, never tried. Yes I’m a virgin and I’ve never kissed anyone.”

“Fuck…but, I mean, how? How do you get through school without any of the falling in pseudo-love and all that drama. Don’t your parents notice?”

“With five of us, the horses, the dogs and the farm?” Cole scoffed and tilted the bottle to his lips, “It’s not hard not to be noticed around here. Do your chores and keep your head down.”

“Dude you have to tell them.”

“No. I don’t.”

“The fuck you don’t Cole. They deserve to know. What you think they’re going to treat you any differently?” Wilton stood and snatched the bottle out of Cole’s slack grip, “I know your family. You’re either a hard worker or you’re lazy, I doubt your parents care about any other preference you have.”

“Like it matters.” Cole ran his fingers through is hair, “The boy I think I love is with someone else.”

Wilton’s eyes went wide, but Cole was too distracted by his own pain to notice.

“Hey, hold up there. You think you love him?” Wilton set the bourbon down, certain sure that his friend had already had way too much to drink, “Cole you barely know him.”

“Fuck I already know its stupid Wil. You got anything constructive to go with that smirk of yours?”

“Just a pretty face bud.” Wilton grinned at him and winked and finally, he was rewarded with a laugh from his friend.

“Many things you are Wil, but pretty is not one of them.”

*

Cole Sathie woke from a dream where he’d been swimming on Dune to some unknown obviously wonderful destination to find himself in bed, his head pounding, and the feeling like something had died in his mouth. His tongue was stuck to the roof of his mouth. Also he was unaccountability warm, something heavy lay across him and Cole groaned aloud to realise that he sharing his single bed with Wilton. The guitarist had rolled over in his sleep and now had a leg and arm draped across Cole’s taller frame. So much for a morning feel… Cole tried to wriggle out from under Wilton and only served to get himself further trapped, his morning erection pinned into the mattress. Wilton murmured something that sounded like ‘no not yet’ and pulled Cole back against him. Wilton’s morning wood pressed into the groove between his butt cheeks.

Cole spent about thirty seconds illicitly enjoying the situation before sitting up forcefully and pushing Wilton out of the bed and onto the floor.

“Ah….fuck…”

“Morning to you too. I’m going for a shower.” Cole got up, grabbed a towel off the hook by the door and managed to nip into the bathroom half a step ahead of Clayton who hammered on the door.

“Cole! I’ve got school!”

“Should have showered earlier then.” Cole started up the shower and went to the little medicine cabinet, pulling out two white paracetamols and two blue and white ibuprofen. The swelling in his cheek had gone done, and there was a faint dark bruise which he thought would probably darken over the rest of the day. He swallowed the lot and stepped groggily into the shower. The hot water did wonders for his head, but little for his erection, and Cole growled to himself, slapping the blood from his member hard enough to sting.

The logical part of his brain knew that Wilton was right; pinning all his hopes on one guy he barely knew was bound to end badly. But Cole couldn’t help it, something about Jared Parker had drawn him in the first day he’d seen the boy smile with his friends, and now he was hooked. The pain of realising that Jared had some secret lover giving him hickeys in the middle of the day was not enough to outweigh the soaring of his heart when Jared had smiled at him and touched his skin. Thinking of Jared made Cole’s erection return, and this time, he wrapped is hand around the length, leant his shoulders against the cool tiles and allowed himself the fantasy of marking Jared with bites and kisses of his own.

*

He met Wilton and the rest of his family downstairs. His mother was already out, seeing to the dogs, and Cole automatically began to get plates from the cupboard and helped his father dish out sausages, mushrooms, hash browns and beans to the assembled Sathie family army. William took he seat between his eldest boy and his friend.

“So how much of that bourbon is left boys? I would bet much by the way you can downstairs Cole.”

“I dunno. We didn’t drink it all.” Cole muttered, much more interested in the restorative powers of friend sausages and orange juice.

“Speak for yourself,” Wilton grinned, “You were drinking like there was no tomorrow. But suppose a man has to get drunk when he’s been dumped.”

Stillness and silence were not qualities the Sathie brood were well known for, but the scraping of cutlery vanished and all eyes turned to Cole when Wilton finished his sentence.

“Dumped?” Clayton echoed. He had been interested in girls for ages but had never found his older brother to be a useful source of information about what to do or how to talk to them. Chase and Cory immediately started giggling.

“Wil!” Cole wished he could kick his friend, but his father was in the way.

William Sathie knuckled the top of his sons head gently.

“I suppose that drinking on a weekday can be forgiven if it’s over a girl.”

“It’s not.” Cole sighed under his breath. Well, maybe he should get it over with and tell the whole family.

“But Wilton said…” Caden began.

“Yeah and Wilton should learn when to keep his big mouth shut.” Cole managed to smile at his friend, “I’m gay, so no dad, no drinking over girls.” Cole grinned evilly, “At least not until Wilton gets dumped.

“Oh…” William was slightly floored.

“Well I guess that makes me the first-son now,” Clayton leant back in his chair, looking cocky. Cole reached out with his foot and flipped the chair up under his sibling. Clayton fell back onto the stone floor with a shout.

“Not unless I get hit by a bus it doesn’t. Gay or straight I can still beat seven shades of shite out of you.” Cole stalked off to the sound of his brother being berated loudly by the rest of the family. He walked up to the yard to find his mother collecting head collars. Mist had settled like a blanket over the farm during the night. Together they walked out to the fields to start bringing in the horses.

Dune snorted dragon’s breath as Cole came to the edge of the field, he and Robin appearing out f the mist like spirits. Bray stood on the frozen ground and stamped impatiently, wanting a warm stable and breakfast. Carla lead in her own horse and watched her eldest son leading the other two in front of her. He’d grown up around horses, had started riding lessons at seven and they’d rented a few ponies for him that he’d grown out of quickly. Dune had been the best thing they’d ever bought, though everyone had told them that the strong eight year old hunter was too big and too much for a fourteen year old boy to handle. Carla was proud that her son had proved them wrong. He and Dune were a perfect team, and Cole never looked so happy as when he was riding the sand-coloured horse. They stabled the horses and changed head collars to go back out to get the livery horses.

“Talk to me Cole,” Carla squeezed her son’s shoulder, her version of a hug now that he was so much taller than her, “Something is bothering you. I can see it in your face.”

“It’s nothing…” Cole sighed, knowing he was going to have to tell her, his father would ring her any minute, “Just Clayton being thick.”

“That boy is not blessed with a great deal of common sense. What did he do?”

Cole told her and they lead the quarter horses into the stables. Carla stood in the yard, watching him check over the big blue roan with confident hands.

“Are you going to say anything Ma?” Cole didn’t stop what he was doing, but let himself out of the stall and began climbing the narrow ladder to the hay loft.

“Your Pa will sort your brother out my pup,” Carla stroked her horse’s velvet nose as hay bales began to fall from the sky, “So who is this boy who’s breaking your heart?”

Cole leant out over the edge of the hay loft.

“You don’t mind?”

“I mind that there’s someone out there making you feel bad pup,” Carla Sathie began to put the spare bales in the big managers as Cole climbed down the ladder, “Of course I don’t mind who you are.”

Cole grabbed the knife and began to strip the bale he was sharing out between the horses.

“He’s called Jared. His sister hit me.”

Carla listened intently as Cole told her what had happened, both of them moving around the stable yard completing all the morning jobs and the horses snorted and groomed each other, napping at their withers. Cole was animated, his gestures huge and expansive, but he had always been a physical child, much better at expressing himself through actions. He seemed happy enough with his decision, even though it hurt.

“So what should I do?”

“If you like him,” Carla hugged her son quickly, “Then you should fight for him. You’ve always been good at getting what you want pup. Now go on, take that poor city boy of yours back home, and get on to college.”

*

Jared settled on a roll neck green sweater to hide the mark on his neck and entered the kitchen to sit across from his sister. Both their parents had already left for work, and Shelby sat at the little round table and munched her cereal. She didn’t look at him. Things had been tense since the day before when he had fled the music-block common room. The look on Cole’s face had been awful to see, the breaking disappointment there. And Shelby had hit him, that had been fun.

They had talked the whole way home, Shelby’s tone had been angry and hard, Jared had pleaded with her not to tell their parents. It was just too hard. He had managed not to tell her Joel’s name, not really wanting all of Shelby’s immense wrath directed at anyone else either. Jared sat opposite his twin and tapped her on the arm.

“Hi.”

“Morning,” Shelby's signals were sharp and terse, “You sleep well?”

“No, not really,” Jared paused to get cereal and milk, “Shel, look at me please.”

“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me,” Shelby huffed, “We tell each other everything. And who is this guy anyway?”

“You know I’m not telling you that,” Jared sighed and he signed, wishing that he had hid the mark better, “It’s not like he’s my boyfriend. We’re not in love or anything.”

Shelby looked away from him, a deliberate snub before she turned back.

“I cannot believe you’re sleeping with someone you don’t want a relationship with. That is so low.”

“Be realistic Shel,” Jared scowled and got up, “Where is a guy like me going to find a boyfriend? Even Drew and Lena don’t put in the effort to learn to sign and they’ve known us for years.” Jared got up, scraping his chair on the tile floor, “And I can’t believe you hit Cole. Talk about low. I’m getting the bus.”

Jared took the bus alone for the first time that year and wished he could drive. Shelby had started lessons a month ago, but finding an instructor willing to take Jared on had proved difficult. His dad had taken him out once or twice, but progress was slow because while his father had gotten very good at sign language over the last seventeen years he wasn’t very good at teaching. Sitting on the bus Jared composed a text and sent it to Joel.

Jared: i need to talk to you.

Joel: right here babe, talk away.

Jared: no in person.

Joel: sure thing J, meet at mine?

Jared: on my way

*

Joel lived in the centre of a modernised industrial era terrace close to the college. Jared had been there a few times, but not lately, so was surprised to find Joel home alone and still in bed. His friend met him at the door wearing a sheet and very quickly lead him back to his bedroom. Joel’s room was a mess, clothes and CD’s strewn over the floor, curtains closed and the whole pace smelling like it needed a good wash.

Jared sat on the edge of the bed and got a new page open on his tablet. He didn’t want Joel’s conversation to be with the one he’d had with Cole. Joel knelt behind him and ran his hands up under his jumper. Jared felt himself lean into the contact of skin on skin then pulled away.

No. I meant TALK.

Joel’s fingers were quick on the keypad.

I didn’t.

Jared felt his throat vibrate with a sound as he clenched his hands in exasperation. Joel grabbed the tablet and tapped out a message.

Look. You know this isn’t a relationship. Talking is what friends are for. Get naked or get out.

Jared stared at the screen, hating himself. In a perverse way, Joel was right. There had never been a hope in hell that Joel would care enough to want to be with him properly. What exactly had he come here hoping to do? Well if it was to squash your guilt it didn’t work… Jared scowled at himself. Why should he feel guilty about being with Joel? A man had needs, and it wasn’t like he had anything else on the horizon. But Cole’s face, the look of betrayal like a slap. Joel rubbed the back of his neck and Jared found himself leaning into the touch.

No more fucking hickeys. My sister saw.

Joel took the tablet from him and put it on the floor, but he nodded. They were slower, taking the luxury of time and the bed beneath them, and Jared didn’t mind what noises he made as Joel pushed lube-wet fingers into him, his mouth hotter than fire around Jared’s cock. Joel’s hands ran over his skin, the touch that had his whole body vibrating and responding automatically. When Joel pushed his legs apart and readied himself Jared closed his eyes and saw Cole’s face above him, soft lips kissing his stubbled jaw, the feeling of words he didn’t know the sound on whispered onto his skin, like a language he could decode with desire.

Joel pushed into him long and slow until he was buried inside the deaf boy to the hilt, and pinned Jared’s hands above his head, ignoring the flickering gestures he made. Jared pushed back, took all the pleasure and contact that he could from Joel as the other kissed his chest and nipples. The long shape of Cole filled his inner vision, tempting him with desire and guilt and Jared shook his head, forcing the thoughts away and focused on using Joel as much as Joel used him. the bed shook, they both panted hard with the force of their exertions and Jared clamped his muscles around the cock that speared in and out of him as Joel groped at him own needy erection.

He came in a hot flooded rush of lust and guilt, got up from Joel as soon as the other hand pulled out and let himself into the en-suite bathroom to clean up. In the mirror Jared looked at the fading blood-bruise left by Joel’s teeth and scowled. He had just imagined someone else while having sex. That was new. And Jared didn’t like it at all.

Back in Joel’s sex-smelling room Jared got dressed, keeping half an eye on Joel’s prone form. Lazy bastard. He grabbed his tablet and his stuff and deleted the conversation he’d had with Joel. Then he typed a message on Joel’s phone and left it on the bed for the other boy before letting himself out.

Thanks and stuff. Don’t call.

*

Cole wandered through the main college building, the one he spent the least amount of time in, looking for the office of the woman he had first found to ask about sign language. Cole’s sense of direction when he was outdoors was great, but big buildings confused him. Eventually he stumbled across her office, if more by luck than anything else.

“Hi there Cole,” she signed while she spoke and Cole recognised the hand shape that mean himself. She’d been talking to Jared. The thought that Jared talked about him to other people made him feel a little dizzy. “What can I do for you?”

“Hi. Abi right?” Cole made sure to try and spell her name using the alphabet he had learnt. Touch thumb, two hands together like goggles, touch middle finger.

“You’re picking it up I see.” Abi motioned for him to sit down on the couch, “What’s up?”

“Are there any classes where I can learn to sign properly? I tried asking in the languages block but they sent me here.”

“Well they would,” Abi sniffed with distain, “They don’t consider us to be a language, not like them being all foreign. There is a BSL course you could take. Have you got your timetable? It just depends if you have the right slots free.”

Cole dung around in his bag and handed over the folded sheet. Abi studied his timetable, tapping her nails on the desk.

“Well you’ve got all the slots free, you’ll have to do some hard work catching up, but something tells me that it won’t be a problem.” She began filling details in on his timetable, “Go up the stairs by the hair and beauty department, through the little glass corridor and its first on the left. Class starts in ten minutes, get up there.”

Copyright © 2013 Sasha Distan; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Chapter Comments

This is such an intense chapter, so many secrets revealed, and in some very uncomfortable ways. I felt even more sorry for Cole, and I can certainly understand why he wanted to drown his sorrows. But again there is also pride for the way he came out to his family, very cool - including his parents' reactions.

But I cannot forgive Jared for going back to Joel for more empty sex. What a stupid idea, he certainly deserves to feel bad about that.

On 12/11/2013 07:36 AM, Timothy M. said:
This is such an intense chapter, so many secrets revealed, and in some very uncomfortable ways. I felt even more sorry for Cole, and I can certainly understand why he wanted to drown his sorrows. But again there is also pride for the way he came out to his family, very cool - including his parents' reactions.

But I cannot forgive Jared for going back to Joel for more empty sex. What a stupid idea, he certainly deserves to feel bad about that.

Cole and I have very similar philosophies when it comes to heartbreak and alcohol consumption.

Jared feels plenty bad, but look at it from his perspective, he's had a handful of conversations with the guy, who if history proves anything, will get bored with BSL and wander off... kid hedges his bets, shitty, but realistic.

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