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.
The Year I Stopped Being Invisible - 43. Chapter 43
When I came into the kitchen the next morning -- running late after insomnia had kept me awake much of the previous night -- Tynah had already left for work and Rex was nowhere to be seen. I guessed that he had made his morning grocery run to the H.E.B., which must mean that Linda had come and gone, expecting that I would have taken the early bus.
I still had about fifteen minutes to catch the late bus, so I re-filled Heidi's dog-dish with food and water, poured some coffee and sat down at the table for a cigarette. The five-dollar bill was there as usual, but it was sitting on top of a section of the San Antonio Light which had been folded back and had an item circled in Rex's fine-lined blue pen.
The section was the one which listed the recent home sales, and the circled item listed a home in Alamo Heights which had just been purchased by one S.B. Maxwell. I stared at the address for a moment, committing it to memory. Rex really does read the paper from cover to cover, I thought to myself, and was grateful that he did.
But Alamo Heights? That was clear across town, the toney rich neighborhood where the woman who t-boned us in the truck had lived. More pertinent to my interests, it wasn't just across town but in an entirely different school district. Shit.
I took Rex's pen, scribbled "thanks, Rex!" next to the circled item, and left for the bus stop. I wouldn't be able to do anything about it that day, as the auditions for Our Town would be held in the afternoon after school. As I trudged up the street, I saw that the ironically-named "late bus" had arrived early, and had to run like a maniac to jump through the door just before it closed and the bus pulled away.
I debated what to do with this new information, this address in Alamo Heights, as the bus rolled along up Walden Road. Did I really want to know why they left so suddenly? Did I really want to go seeking out an answer which was likely to break my heart all over again? After all, I hadn't heard one peep from Taine on the phone since they had moved, had received not one note, one letter...nothing!
If this had been any other family, I would have suspected parental disapproval: moving him away so that we couldn't be together, forcing him to date some snooty Alamo Heights chick in a pleated skirt, maybe even packing him away to one of those religious youth camps near Dallas where they claimed to be able to "fix" kids like us by praying the gay away.
But this was Sly Maxwell's family. The same Sly Maxwell who had given us that great talk full of unconditional love and acceptance in the parking lot that day. The same Sly Maxwell who had been nothing but loving and supportive when he talked to Taine about his feelings out by the swimming pool. And the same Sly Maxwell who, like a proud Papa Bear, had carefully gathered Taine, Blaine, and me together by that pool for what amounted to a massive family therapy session.
The four of us came out of that session -- I thought -- bonded at the hip. Four musketeers, all for one and one for all. And Taine and I had made sweet, gentle love that day, and afterward seemed closer than ever.
And then they were gone.
The bus pulled into the circle at Polk High and I made my way out, shuffling behind a row of students who were taking as long as they possibly could to get off and begin their school day. When I had finally run this slouching gauntlet, I hurried into the school to find Linda for some much needed advice.
Instead I ran into Nathan, on his way to the office because some ninja throwing-stars had been found in his locker. He was outraged at this invasion of his personal space, but chuckled at the situation nonetheless.
"I'm going to be the first person ever expelled from Polk for being a ninja," he laughed. "How bad-ass is that?"
"Super bad-ass," I assured him, but inside I was eye-rolling up a storm.
"Keep your dick up, Bubba," said Nathan, indicating Kathy Witcher strolling down the hall. "Your big mama jama might want another taste of freshman meat!"
I shook my head, grinning as Nathan strode purposefully into the office. I had told him about my encounter with Kathy when I was at his house (leaving out the parts involving Mark and Jeff), and he had been suitably impressed by my scoring a blowjob from a 12th grade girl to dub me "The Senior Suck-Toy".
It wasn't a nickname that stuck, thank goodness, for I would learn that Nathan seemed to invent new nicknames for people every day. Maybe it's because he never had one. I resolved to come up with one for him soon.
I didn't catch up with Linda until 4th period Drama, where we were working on some exercises and learning about character analysis. Linda and I excused ourselves to the auditorium, presumably to work on our Duet, but there wasn't another tournament for two weeks and we were fine just sitting on the edge of the stage and talking.
"You know, Rick," she said, a thoughtful expression on her face, "maybe he didn't have a choice in the matter, and was too nervous about your reaction to talk to you before. You know how shy he is, even with you, and he really hates confrontation more than just about anything."
"So you don't think it was the hat thing?" I asked, only half-joking. I honestly didn't know what it might have been.
"No, silly," she said. "But you do have a point about his dad and brother not saying anything either. It's just bizarre. His dad really seemed to like you, and you told me that Blaine even came around."
"I know," I sighed, kicking my heels against the stage. "It doesn't make any sense at all to me. I don't know what to do."
"Rick. You're afraid of what the answer might be, aren't you? You're afraid that Taine changed his mind."
"Yeah," I admitted, nodding. "I'm scared about the answer, so I don't know if I should even ask the question."
"I see," Linda said sarcastically. "You are afraid of rejection, so you're just going to let the boy whom you have said many, many times means more to you than anything else in the world disappear from your life with no explanation? That makes a lot of sense!"
"Yeah." I hung my head sadly, embarrassed.
"Rick," Linda said, trying another tack, "what if I go to his new house? What if I go over there all pissed off asking how he could just leave without saying goodbye? He likes me, he trusts me, and most importantly I'm a girl, so he's intimidated by me. I will get some answers."
I thought about it for a minute. It was an attractive offer, sparing me the humiliation of being the spurned, heartbroken lover showing up at the door begging for "closure." Besides, I didn't want closure. I wanted Taine. And I couldn't let Linda go around doing my dirty work forever.
"No," I said. I would either do it or I wouldn't, but I wasn't about to let Linda do it for me.
"Suit yourself, but the offer's open. I'm actually a little upset with him myself."
"Linda, you don't have to..."
"Oops!"
She held up a hand, silencing me.
"Not just on your behalf, Rick. I don't like going to all this effort to make friends with him only to have him turn his back on me, too. Not all of my going over there pissed off would be acting."
"I really appreciate that, Linda." I turned to look her in the eye. "I really do. You're a great friend to me, but if I'm going over there, I'm doing it myself. And if I don't, that's because I can't deal with the answer, even if you get it for me."
Her expression softened. She took me in her arms, hugging me tight and stroking the back of my Izod soothingly.
"Oh, Rick," she cooed softly. "I hate seeing you in pain like this. I know Taine meant more to you than anyone ever did in your life, and I can't imagine what kind of effect this is having on you, especially not knowing why."
She broke the embrace, meeting my gaze seriously and lovingly.
"I understand if you don't want to know, Ricky. If you ever need to talk, you know I'm always here for you."
"Thanks," I smiled.
"That's what Duet partners are for," she murmured, then got to her feet on the stage, facing front and loudly clearing her throat.
I knew what she was up to and leapt to my feet beside her as she spoke.
"Doris and George are married..."
"..but not to each other," I continued.
And I was thinking, yeah, we kind of are.
* * * * *
Nathan was back in my 5th period Biology class in his usual seat after receiving a stern warning about bringing ninja throwing stars to school. The warning turned into detention when he inquired about whether nunchaku sticks were banned as well, but it didn't seem to faze him. He liked playing the rebel.
Sixth period P.E. was the usual lame activity followed by the wet, steamy cock-show which was my primary interest in showing up. As broken up and confused as I was about my lover's disappearance, I was starting to miss sex just as much, and found my eyes wandering around the communal showers more than usual. My eyes settled between the legs of the Swedish foreign-exchange student, a tall and blonde young Adonis named Erik.
His damp, slippery cock lay nestled in a soft, blondish-brown nest of fuzz as he washed his hair, eyes closed under the spraying showerhead. His tool was lightly tanned like the rest of him, and uncut, like only two other boys in our class, and the sight was not unattractive. In fact, I could make out the shape of his thick mushroom-shaped head beneath his foreskin, and the sight was beginning to cause some stirrings in my own loins. Erik was long and thick, at least five inches soft and as many inches around, and I couldn't stop staring at it shifting around as he moved, wet and glistening, rolling against his large balls, which also danced provocatively in their hairless, low-hanging pouch.
Nice, I thought. Then I happened to glance up, right into his bright blue eyes, which were watching me watching him, and didn't seem happy about it. I quickly looked to the wall, resuming my shower. Soaping my chest, belly and pits, I glanced back over my shoulder, only to see Erik's gaze focused right on my wet, hairless ass. Now I didn't know what to think. Was he offended that I was looking at him, or was he scoping me out as well?
I filed the exchange of looks away in my mind for future research. Right now, my focus was on finishing my shower, getting dressed, and giving my hair enough time to dry before my audition. As I was pulling on my black Jordache jeans by the black-painted A-frame dressing benches, Erik walked right up next to me. He was completely naked and still dripping wet, his towel held casually in one large hand at his side.
"You like what you see?" he asked, his voice low enough that no one could hear but me.
"What do you mean?"
I was sure that I was blushing like a pink giraffe.
I slipped my Izod over my head in an attempt at nonchalance, and by the time I had it pulled down and in place, he wasn't in front of me anymore. I looked back to see where he had gone, and saw him drying off a few benches away, looking in the opposite direction.
The moment had passed, I thought, feeling my ears burning hot with the blush which I was sure now was obvious to anyone watching. I threw on my Reeboks and walked hurriedly toward the locker-room doors as the final bell rang. Thankful for the crowd of students to lose myself in, I swam against the tide with no real annoyance. Everyone else was heading for the parking lots or the bus circle, while I was on my way to the auditorium, so it took me a while to get there.
And just as I was about to open the auditorium doors and try out for my first Polk High School Drama Department production, I felt a presence behind me. I glanced back to see what it was, hoping that I wouldn't see Erik's large, tanned hand landing on my shoulder.
I didn't.
Oh, a hand landed on my shoulder, all right. But it wasn't Erik's golden mitt. It was a pale, slender hand.
A perfect, perfect hand.
- 18
- 4
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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