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    Mark Arbour
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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. 

9.11 - 74. Chapter 74

Three different narrators in one chapter.  A trifecta?:P

November 10, 2001

Tribeca, NY

 

I lay there in bed, torturing myself silently, and waiting for my father to fall asleep. I knew if I didn’t do that, he’d want to have some big meaningful discussion about things, and that would just be unbearable. He meant well, but it wouldn’t help me, it would just make things worse. So I pretended to be sleeping, forcing myself to lie still and keep my breathing even. I heard him toss and turn for a bit, then his breathing got softer, and then finally I heard the soft snores that told me he was finally out. I sighed with relief, but not too loudly.

I got up and went into the bathroom and pulled out the sweat pants, sweat shirt, and slippers I’d stowed in there for just this purpose, that way I wouldn’t wake him up as I fumbled around to put them on. I snuck out of the bathroom and went into the main room, and sat on the couch. The place was still in the middle of being decorated, and what furniture that was here was significantly different than what was here before; but even as I sat on the new couch, I felt myself being transported in time back to that old couch. I’d sat here on that fateful day, watching the television and listening to the sirens, as virtually every member of my family had been out there, in danger. There’d been the joy I’d experienced when Dad, Will, Darius, Grand, and Stef had come walking through the door. And then there had been the horror, the sheer agony, when Robbie and my mother hadn’t.

Dad and Will had gone through this crucible, or so it seemed, as they’d dealt with losing Mom and Robbie, but I’d just focused on skating, on being successful. I’d done what I knew would make them proud. I thought that maybe if I won my competitions, somehow that would change things. I was being an idiot. I knew that. It was like if I’d placed first in Skate America that would have brought them back to life. It seemed so stupid now. And it didn’t matter anyway, since I’d totally fucked up at the last two competitions.

Yet here I was, back in this place that represented hell. What the fuck was I doing here anyway? Suddenly the noises in my head got louder, the sirens especially, and I could almost taste and smell the dust just as it was after the first tower fell. I felt tears rolling down my face, but as fast as I wiped them away, new ones replaced them. I felt closed in, confined, like I was in a prison and the walls were slowly compacting in on me, like that scene in Star Wars when they were in the garbage pit. I stood up and looked around almost in a panic, trying to figure out how to escape, how to get out of there, when a person walked into the room.

I should have known it was Zach by his walk, which was a cocky strut, as full of arrogance as he was. And even if that didn’t give it away, I should have recognized his silhouette, which emphasized his broad shoulders. “What are you doing in here?” he asked me in a friendly way, even as he walked over to me.

That surprised me, since in the past, the only way he’d talked to me was like he was trying to fuck me, and that wasn’t going to happen. No way was I going to end up as another notch on his bedpost, especially since he and Will were so tight. He stood in front of me, wearing sweat pants and no shirt, showing off his sexy body. “Don’t you ever wear a shirt?” I asked, being bitchy.

“Not when I get out of bed just to pee and grab something to drink,” he said. He looked at me more closely, and reached up to wipe a tear off my cheek.

“Just get the fuck away from me,” I spat, as I pushed his hand away.

“You just hanging out in here, making yourself miserable?” he asked.

“What about leave me the fuck alone don’t you understand?” I demanded, even as I started to lose it. I put my hands on his chest and pushed him, ignoring how sexy his pecs felt, only he didn’t move, I did.

“I’m hard to move,” he joked, only that just made me more angry. I pushed him again, harder this time, and he backed up a bit, but regained his footing and stood back where he’d been.

“I said get out!” I ordered, my voice getting louder, only not loud enough to wake anyone up. He didn’t move, and I lost it. I charged at him, and knocked him back onto the couch, which slid back, making a pretty loud noise. I landed on top of him, and all I saw was his shit-eating grin, and I lost it. I just started hitting him, punching him, over and over again. He coiled his arms back and held them together so they shielded his face, and didn’t fight back at all, which just made me more mad. I hit him in the abdomen, hoping I could make him lose his composure, but even though he grunted, his muscles were like a rock. He’d completely tensed up his body, from his chest down to his abs, and those muscles bulged out, looking and feeling like rocks as I landed punches on them.

I felt arms grab me and wrap around me from behind, and since I was looking down at Zach, they couldn’t be his. “Knock it off,” Will hissed in my ear. “What the fuck are you doing?”

“Kicking his ass,” I said, pointing at Zach. Zach lowered his arms and grinned at me, which made me mad all over again, but Will had me firmly restrained, so I couldn’t hit him anymore.

“Is everything alright?” I heard Dad ask, and his presence changed the whole dynamic of the room. It was like this big issue, this big battle, was between the three of us, and the last thing any of us wanted was for him to be involved in it. We all relaxed and acted calm and cool.

“We were just wrestling,” Will said, answering for all of us, which was typical. Whenever there was a battle to be fought with my dad, Will was usually the one to lead the charge. I was more than happy to let him do that, since both of them were hotheads, and they tended to balance each other out.

“Oh,” Dad said, but he still stood there.

“You don’t get to join us,” Will joked, and that made Zach snaugh, that same gesture that Robbie made. It ripped me to the core to hear that, and to see Zach’s eyes, so similar to Robbie’s.

“Try to keep the noise down. We don’t want to interrupt Stef’s beauty sleep,” Dad said, and went back to his room.

As soon as he was gone, Will let me go, and I got off of Zach, letting him sit up. “What happened?” Will demanded.

“I told him to leave, but he wouldn’t,” I said petulantly.

“So you started hitting him?” Will asked, and now he was mad.

“It’s OK,” Zach said.

“It’s not OK for him to just start punching you,” Will said. “Did he hurt you?”

I expected him to make some smart ass comment about how wimpy I was, and how he didn’t even feel my punches, but instead he rubbed his stomach carefully, like it was hurting. “I’ll be fine.” Then I felt like shit, because I’d actually hurt him. I’d made him the target of my rage, I’d lashed out at him, and I’d hurt him. I felt the tears start flowing again, and then felt Zach’s naked arm around my back, with his hand on my shoulder. “It’s OK,” he repeated.

“I’m sorry,” I said to him, even though I was sobbing. Then I realized as if a lightning bolt had hit me, that this is exactly what Will had been going through. He’d get these rages, get all pissed off, then when he was done lashing out at people, he’d feel sad and miserable. And guilty. “I should not have done that. I should not have done that,” I said, and now I was almost inconsolable.

“You get pissed off when you don’t get your way,” Zach said, and that brought back enough of my anger to help me get my emotions under control; anger that changed to irritation when he smiled to show he was giving me shit.

“I wouldn’t know,” I said to him, “since I always get my way.” Will laughed at that, because he knew it was bullshit.

“I’ve got a deal for you,” Zach said.

“A deal?” I asked, wondering how much money this would cost me.

“Yeah,” he said casually. “I’ve been treating you like shit ever since I met you, and you punched my stomach hard enough to leave a few bruises. I’d say we’re even.”

I stared at him and blinked, totally stunned by what he said. I glanced at Will, who just looked on intently, and figured that he must have coached Zach on how to get along with me better, but when my eyes shifted back to Zach, I could see the sincerity in his eyes. I swallowed my emotions, and my pride. “I haven’t been all that nice to you either.”

Will raised his eyebrow in surprise at my reaction, while Zach showed that reaction on his face as well. “Are you actually admitting that you were wrong?” Will asked, being a smart ass.

“Make a note in your calendar,” I said in my snarkiest way. “There’s a first time for everything.”

“So I got your ‘first time I was wrong’ cherry?” Zach teased, only I didn’t find him as irritating as I had, so I gave him a smarmy smile.

“That’s the only one you’re getting,” I said.

He chuckled, and then rubbed his hand gently across my cheek to get rid of some of the residual tears. “You’re a really cute guy, really hot. I figured that if I flirted with you, you’d get that I noticed that, and take it as a compliment.”

I stared at him and blinked, then got suspicious. “Bullshit. You were trying to fuck me.”

He and Will both laughed, and that made me mad again. “Dude, flirting can sometimes lead to that, but sometimes it’s just fun. You know, banter,” Will said.

“Gathan did the same thing with Stef,” I said. That had bugged the shit out of me, because I’d thought that he was just doing that to get Stef to do shit for him. I still thought that, but I was tired of arguing about it.

“Gathan fucked Stef?” Zach asked, and both Will and I shut up and said nothing, all but confirming it. “What a fuckhead.”

“So if he flirts with me, and I sleep with him, that’s OK?” I asked Will, to change the subject, and to mess with him. Not gonna lie: sometimes it was fun to get him all riled up.

“No!” he said emphatically. Zach gave him a shit-eating grin and chuckled, while I giggled.

“Sorry, JJ. You don’t get to mess with my other dragon,” Zach said in his flirtatious way, only now it was funny.

“Whatever,” I said. “I can’t wait to go shopping with you tomorrow.” That last sentence was uttered as a threat, as if we’d make him look like an ass in designer clothing.

“I’m actually looking forward to it now,” he said. He leaned in and gave me a sexy kiss on the cheek, then stood up. “I’m going back to bed.”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” Will said.

“Good,” Zach responded, then walked out of the room, with both of us staring after him, admiring his awesome body.

“Sorry I lost it,” I said to Will.

“Sounds like it might have been good for both of you,” he said. “You OK?”

“I’m trying to be,” I said. “Casey gives me shit for not dealing with this.” I waved my arms around to signify that I was talking about the whole 9-11 thing. “He’s right.”

“I figured that,” Will said. “That’s why you wanted to come here.”

“That’s why,” I agreed. “I sit in here, and I can hear the sirens, and I can smell the dust.”

He stood up and held out his hand. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?”

“The roof,” he said. I shook my head, but he just wiggled his hand until I took it. “Trust me on this.” I nodded and he led me up to the roof.

I walked out there like I was walking into a trap, to the point that he actually had to pull me to get me to move. We could hear sirens, real sirens, as the cops responded to some emergency in this massive city, and then it all came flooding back to me. I could see the towers burning, and it was sunny, not nighttime. I felt Will maneuver me over to a bench and sit me down, but my mind and my gaze were focused on the spot where those towers had been. “I kept thinking that if I did well, if I won my competitions, they’d come back,” I heard myself sob. It was like I wasn’t in my body, like I was hearing myself say things but I wasn’t saying them myself.

“That won’t work, JJ,” Will said. “They’re never coming back.” I felt his strong arm around me, and even though it wasn’t as meaty as Zach’s it was more comforting. We sat there in silence for a long time, until Will’s shivering pulled me out of my daze.

“Dude, you’re freezing,” I said, standing up. He’d been outside here, in the cold, only wearing sweats and a T-shirt.

“I’m fine,” he insisted. I ignored him and started walking toward the door, and he followed me. We got downstairs and found Zach looking around, obviously for us.

“Sorry. Wondered where you’d gone,” he said to Will.

“He got horny,” I joked.

“Duh,” Zach said, and winked at me.

“I’m hungry,” Will said. He had a bottomless pit for a stomach, but that seemed to move us all into the kitchen.

Zach pulled out the Wheaties and poured a bowl, leaving the box on the table. Jim Thorpe was on the cover. He was an amazing athlete, and an Olympian, something I’d never be. I started crying again, and that pissed me off, but I couldn’t stop. “What’s wrong?” Will asked.

“I fucked up so badly,” I told them, really breaking down. “I fucked up my whole career.”

“What do you mean?” Will asked.

“I can’t skate anymore. I can’t do it. I’ve bombed at my last two competitions. Everyone’s talking about me, about how I’m washed up, about how I was just lucky and now that I have to show my talent, I don’t have anything to put up.”

“What kind of bullshit is that?” Will demanded. “I’ve seen you skate lots of times. You’re incredible on the ice.”

I smiled weakly to thank him for that, and then shook my head. “Skate America was on October 24th in Colorado. I placed 11th. Then I went to Skate Canada on November 1st, up in fucking Saskatoon where it was already cold as fuck, and placed 10th. Do you know what that means?”

“No,” Will said.

“It means I didn’t make the Grand Prix final. I didn’t qualify,” I said, and put my head in my hands.

“So you’ll bounce back,” Will said in his reassuringly naïve way.

“You don’t get it. It’s not that easy,” I snapped. “Once you fuck up like this, people count you out. They write you off. Judges do that, officials do that, the other skaters do that. It’s like you don’t belong in the club.”

“I get it,” Zach said. “I get exactly what you’re saying.”

“You do?” I asked, kind of surprised.

“Yep,” he said. “When I was playing football in Claremont last season, I had a couple of games where I completely fucked up. Fumbled the ball, causing us to lose probably our biggest game.”

“One fumble can’t lose a game,” Will said. “It takes a team to lose.” I noticed how Will propped him up, just like he did for me. He was like a big cheerleader, and I mentally envisioned him in a skirt with pom poms, and that almost made me laugh, but I managed to avoid that.

“People don’t think like that,” Zach said. “They want a scapegoat.”

“So what did you do to fix it?” I asked.

He shrugged. “Most important thing is getting your head on straight. That’s what I had to do. That’s when I had to change the way I acted, the way I treated other people, and the way I lived my life.”

“You’re saying that I can’t be bitchy anymore?” I asked. “I don’t know if I can do that.” Will chuckled at that, like I knew he would.

“I think you can still be bitchy, but you’ve been trying to avoid dealing with everything by just focusing on skating,” Will said. “I think what Zach is telling you is that you’ll suck at skating until you try to get through this.”

I thought about what they were telling me, and even though it was the same thing my psychologist was saying, coming from these two, it finally got through to me. I nodded. “What else did you do?” I asked Zach.

“Change of venue, change of friends,” he said. “I got the fuck out of Claremont. Gathan thinks that place is heaven on earth; I just think it’s a po-dunk backwater.”

“We have a lot in common,” I said with a smile. “Neither one of us likes Gathan or Claremont.” Zach chuckled, while Will gave me a dirty look, since he and Gathan were friends, and since he’d internalized part of our family commitment to that God-forsaken outpost in the Midwest.

“It seems that we do,” Zach said.

“I’m going to bed,” I announced.

“I think that’s an excellent idea,” Will said. We all went back to our bedrooms. I snuck in quietly and got into bed, and I could tell from the way Dad was breathing that he was awake, but I had a lot to think about, and I’d done enough talking for the night.

 

November 11, 2001

Tribeca, NYC

 

“Good morning,” Stef said cheerfully as I walked into the kitchen. “You slept in.”

“I’m pretending I’m a teenager,” I said, as memories of trying to roust JJ out of bed were fresh in my brain. He had been pretty grumpy when I tried to wake him up. “I was up late last night.”

“There was a problem?”

I shrugged. “I found JJ, Will, and Zach in the main room, and it almost looked like they were fighting.”

“Indeed?”

“They said they were wrestling, which was pretty obviously a lie, but they didn’t want me around, so I left,” I said.

“That is a bit out of character for you to leave a mystery like that unsolved,” he said, poking at me.

“Maybe I’m learning that I don’t have to control everything,” I said in a relatively nasty way, making him raise an eyebrow in surprise.

“Every day, it seems there is something new to amaze me,” he joked. Our conversation was truncated when Frank and Mother came in, followed by a still-grumpy JJ. Will and Zach had already left for the game, so after a relatively quick breakfast, we went down and got in the car that would take us to New Jersey.

“How are you doing?” I asked JJ. He seemed to be a little better today. Yesterday he’d been on edge, and had clearly been agitated at being back in the condo and in New York. Today he seemed different, like he was resolved, and had a purpose.

“Fine,” he said dismissively. “We’re shopping after the game?” he asked Stef to change the subject.

“I recommend that we remain flexible,” Stef said. “But if we do not go out this afternoon, we will go out tomorrow.”

“I thought we were going today,” JJ all but whined.

“That is the plan, but I am reminding you that plans are fluid when other people are involved,” Stef said firmly. JJ looked up to Stef, and enjoyed the time they spent together on their common passion for shopping, so whereas he would have been a pain in the ass and argued with me, he just shut up and said nothing in response to Stef.

“What’s the stadium like?” Frank asked me.

“I don’t know,” I answered honestly. “I’ve been to two games, but this is the first home game.”

“Guess we’ll see,” Frank said. We drove up to the school and it seemed nice enough. The limo wound us back to the stadium.

Granatell Stadium was nice, but pretty basic, with one big set of stands for fans to watch. Will was waiting to greet us, wearing his Don Bosco jersey, and led us to some seats they’d reserved for us. I was used to fanfare when traveling with Stef, but the school seemed to go out of its way to roll out the red carpet for him. Several administrators came up to greet him, and the rest of us, until Will shepherded us down to the field to meet the team. I guess they’d decided that the locker room wasn’t the best location for that, which made me chuckle. Stef shook hands with every player, and then we went back up in the stands.

Will pulled Stef and JJ aside, and gestured at the other teenagers in the stands. “When you take Zach shopping, you need to make sure you get him stuff that will fit in.”

“Like that?” JJ asked, gesturing toward a guy wearing jeans, a T-shirt, and sporting a mullet.

“No,” Will said. “Like that.” He indicated a guy that was wearing some Calvin Klein jeans, a rugby shirt, and a military camouflage jacket.

“Seriously?” JJ asked. He stood there in his Diesel jeans and Helmut Lang jacket, looking like he was a male version of Ella.

“It’s what he wears,” Will answered logically, and then went back down to the bench.

Don Bosco was playing the Paramus Catholic Paladins, and lost the coin toss so the Ironmen kicked off to their opponents. We all sat, rather bored, as the Ironmen’s defense put up tough resistance, but it wasn’t enough to stop the Paladins from ending their drive with a field goal. They kicked off to the Ironmen, who ran the ball back to their own 24-yard line.

For the first play, they tried for the long bomb, which failed so miserably it almost turned into an interception. Everyone expected them to run the next play, but they didn’t, trying a short pass that got them to the 29-yard line. Then, on the third down, with five yards to go for a first down, they finally gave the ball to Zach. It looked like he was going to run it straight up the middle, but he couldn’t find a hole, so he swung to the right, using his amazing speed to pick up twenty yards. The crowd was really excited, but I got two huge surprises among our party. Frank was standing up and cheering, yelling like he was a freshman at his first college football game. And in a more refined and less rowdy way, JJ was cheering too. I looked at Stef and leaned in so only he could hear me. “It seems wrestling may have paid off last night.” Stef giggled.

I watched the dynamic between Zach and Will. As Zach would come off the field, he’d talk to his team, and then eventually wander over to where Will was. He’d take his helmet off, and I could see his grin as Will seemingly told him how well he’d done. Zach ran the ball for almost a hundred yards, and got one of the Ironmen’s three touchdowns. They ended up beating the Paladins 21-10.

The team ran off the field to cheers from their fans, while Will wandered over to the stands to see us. “Wasn’t that an awesome game?” he asked us enthusiastically.

“It was,” I agreed.

“The car can take you guys back to the condo, and then we’ll meet you there after Zach changes and has his team meeting,” Will said.

“Excellent,” Stef said. “Then let us go.”

“I’m waiting to see Zach first,” Frank said firmly. We all looked at him, not a little surprised.

“We can wait around,” Stef agreed reluctantly.

“It’s cold,” JJ bitched. “Can we at least wait in the limo?”

“Why don’t you all go back to the condo, and Frank can ride back with Zach and me,” Will offered. I thought that was awfully generous of him, to offer to yield some of his pretty limited alone time with Zach.

“Works for me,” Frank said gruffly.

“We’ll see you back at the condo,” I said, and led the rest of them out to the limo for the drive back to New York.

“You usually do not cheer so exuberantly,” Stef said to JJ.

JJ gave him a dirty look, and then smiled. “If I don’t cheer for him, then he won’t cheer for me.”

“And when will he be cheering for you?” Stef asked.

“He promised to come to my next big competition,” JJ said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the last two,” I said. I felt bad about that, but things had been pretty hectic, and JJ hadn’t really seemed to want us to go.

“S’OK,” he said. “I sucked anyway. I’ll do better at the next one. Pacific sectionals are the 28th through the 2nd, but the weekend is the time to be there.”

“Where is it?” I asked.

“They’re in LA,” he said, which was pretty convenient.

“I will put it in my schedule,” Stef said, pulling out his pocket calendar. I did the same thing.

“I’ll have to get Will to book a ticket for Zach,” JJ said. It was funny how that seemed to be really important to him. I was going to quiz him about that, but decided to leave it alone, and Stef wisely followed my lead.

 

November 11, 2001

Ramsey, New Jersey

 

“He should be out in a little bit,” I told Frank as we stood there in the cold temperatures. They hadn’t bothered me during the game, but they were bothering me now. “I should have snagged the keys to the Durango. It’s cold just standing here.”

“It’s not that bad,” Frank said. “It was a lot worse than this when I lived in Claremont.”

“Yeah, I’m feeling pretty lucky to grow up in California,” I said, making idle conversation. I did not like cold weather, but this was a small enough sacrifice to make. We hung around until the guys started coming out. Zach was the fifth guy out the door. He saw Frank and looked a little apprehensive. “Frank wanted to talk to you, so I suggested he could just ride back with us.”

“Cool,” Zach said.

Frank walked up to Zach without saying anything and put his arm around him, and started guiding him to the car. “That was one of the best performances I’ve ever seen in high school football.”

Zach’s eyes lit up, as did his smile. “Really?”

“Absolutely,” Frank said. “You have real talent. I had no idea.”

“Thanks,” he said. We got to the Durango and hopped in, with me taking the back seat. “I need to call my dad.”

“Go ahead,” Frank said. We sat back and pretended to enjoy the ride, while Zach called his parents.

“I’m riding back to Tribeca with Frank and Will,” Zach said. “Dad says hi,” he relayed to us, and then he described the game to Wally on the phone. It was funny how we could hear Zach explaining what happened, and since we’d been there, it made complete sense to us. Yet we could tell Wally was interrupting Zach to bitch about things, and I could see him deflating, just like he did before.

“Put it on speaker,” Frank said. Zach shrugged, and hit the speaker button. Wally was evidently so unsophisticated when it came to phones that he couldn’t tell when the other phone was in speaker mode or not. Frank and I sat there quietly, listening to Wally bitch at Zach about one perceived error after another. “Take it off speaker,” Frank ordered.

“OK,” Zach said, and did it. Frank reached his hand out, silently demanding the phone, and Zach handed it to him. Our eyes met in the rear view mirror and he made a funny ‘uh oh’ face at me.

“Wally, this is Frank. What the fuck are you bitching about?” Frank demanded. Wally must have been responding, because Frank didn’t say anything for a bit. “You don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I was at the game, and I watched him play. The kid’s a star. He’s going to the show unless you drag him down with all this negative bullshit.”

We could hear Wally arguing back through the headset. “Don’t miss your exit,” I prompted Zach, since he was eavesdropping a little too intently.

“Got it,” he said, then focused back on Frank.

“He’s got the ball secured on all four points, he’s got a wicked chop block, he pivots like a pro, and he can fake better than anyone I’ve seen,” Frank said. He listened for a minute, and then started talking again. “Since when did you become such an expert? Shit, they called you Wally the fumbler in high school. How many yards did you pick up in a game?” I saw Zach trying not to laugh. “I don’t give a shit what you think. I watched one of the best performances I’ve ever seen in high school football, and all you want to do is rip the kid up for mistakes he didn’t make, and you didn’t see. He doesn’t have the problem, you do.”

Frank pushed the disconnect button and handed the phone back to Zach. “Thanks for all those things you said about me,” Zach said.

“I’ve got no problem giving you a bad time when you make a mistake, but it’s not fair to do that when you did a great job,” Frank said.

“Does my dad want me to call him back?”

“Probably,” Frank said, and then chuckled. “I’m not his favorite person right now.”

“Maybe not, but you’re mine,” I said, patting Frank on the shoulder.

Frank gave me a really appreciative look. “You’re my second favorite person,” Zach said to Frank, and winked at me. I blushed, and Frank laughed.

“I’ve got an idea,” Frank said to Zach. “I think that we should let Stef and JJ go shopping this afternoon. Then I think you and I can sit at home and watch college football. Will can do whichever activity he wants.”

“Awesome!” Zach said, and then got nervous. “Dude, they may get pissed off.”

“I’ll handle them,” I said confidently. I knew that Stef would understand, and JJ would be OK with it too. “JJ’s all excited that you’re coming to his competition on December 1st. As long as you don’t miss that, he’ll be cool with you skipping shopping.”

“You’ll help me book a ticket?” he asked me. “I don’t have a credit card.”

“What?” Frank asked. “What if you have an emergency?”

“I’ll book the ticket,” I said, interrupting Frank before he went on a tirade about the credit card issue.

Copyright © 2014 Mark Arbour; 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.
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On 2/12/2014 at 6:47 PM, Mark Arbour said:

Thanks Tim.

 

Actually, I can totally see JJ with Gathan, when JJ goes through his self-loathing phase. This is right before he gets into scat. 😉

JJ is way too prissy for crap like that. I bet his his cum rag is Louis Vuitton.

On 2/13/2014 at 10:30 PM, Mark Arbour said:
On 2/13/2014 at 8:23 PM, Gene63 said:
Nice to see Frank taking Zach's side. It was also nice to see the change in JJ. I hope he continues to become less bitchy and more likable.

Love this story and enjoyed the 3 narrators.

I can't see JJ becoming less bitchy. Ever. 😉

I can if he gets a down to earth partner who won't let him be bitchy. Had a certain someone not gotten someone else preggers, I think JJ would have changed. I think some characters out there can still do that for him.

As to Wally and Zach, and now Frank. Frank was a much better football player than Wally. Wally imagines/remembers his achievements differetly from what they actually were. One of my best friends was the star quarterback in high school and went on to play at the University of Arizona. We'd been friends our whole life, our grandparents had met in college and the two families stayed tight. We still are. Point is, despite Richie's obvious talents and accolades, just like Wally, Richie's dad would rip him a new one after games. The difference is, Richie knew he was full of crap. He'd heard from my parents, his grandparents and mine (usually at a pre-game party at USC) about how bad Richard Sr. was. They'd tell stories about Richard Sr., who never got past the high school level. Frank is the beginning of that for Zach. The realization that there is no need to listen to Wally.

2 hours ago, PrivateTim said:

JJ is way too prissy for crap like that. I bet his cum rag is Louis Vuitton.

I can if he gets a down to earth partner who won't let him be bitchy. Had a certain someone not gotten someone else preggers, I think JJ would have changed. I think some characters out there can still do that for him.

I'd go with Burberry. Lol Anyway, I personally think Mark has done a really good job of slowly but surely inching JJ into some maturity. JJ at 18 is not the same kid he was at 15. It's slow progress, but I love where Mark has put JJ in 2004. 

Spoiler

JJ living his Devil Wears Prada/How to Lose A Guy in 10 Days New York City romantic comedy life is a fitting place to leave JJ in. I'm happy with it because I think it's a wonderful place for JJ to be in.

 

Edited by methodwriter85

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