Bloodlines - 3. Chapter 3

April 8, 1998

I stared at my father, then my mother, who was crying now, and at the doctor, who looked scared that I'd beat the shit out of him. The feeling of my fists pounding into his fleshy body had a certain appeal, but only for a second. We stared at each other, and then I got up and stormed out of the room.

“Matt!” my mother called and tried to chase me, but my father put his hand on her arm to calm her. He knew me, this was my way. When I had something like this thrown at me, I had to go off and be by myself and try to work it through, to try and wrestle with the variables.

We'd had our final hockey meeting of the season this afternoon so I'd had to meet my parents at the doctor's office. Lucky for me, since that meant I had my GMC here. I jumped in and took off, just enjoying the freedom that being on the road provided. I thought about that last team meeting to take my mind off all the other shit. The meeting sucked, with everyone pissed at me. We'd lost that game where I'd laid out Cam Heely and never gotten our rhythm back after that. It was my fault that I was out of the game, but I really felt they made me the scapegoat for the rest of the season. So now none of my buds liked me anymore. Even Garner and Kelso were cold and distant. Now, when I had this major crisis, I had no one to really turn to. I felt totally alone, totally isolated.

I couldn't go see Ashley. She'd be civil, but just barely. We were talking; enough to go to prom together next week, but that was it. I half-expected her to cancel, since I wasn't as cool and popular as I used to be. Kelso and Garner made excuses every time I asked them to do something these days. I drove around for an hour, ending up downtown by the half-built, new Browns stadium. I parked and walked past the construction fences, out along the lake, enjoying the slightly brisk wind and the soothing power of the water. Somehow that made it easier to think about my life and how shitty it had become. From Golden Boy to pariah. My mind kept the whole adoption thing at bay, buried, holding it in some compartment, and waiting until I could handle it.

Well, fuck Kelso, fuck Garner, fuck Ashley, and fuck all the other guys. In two months I'd be out of here, and my next stop was California, and Stanford University. I had good people skills; I'm a handsome guy, so I'll just make new friends there. These other douche bags could suck my balls. I'd figure out something to do for the summer. Maybe I'd go hiking around in Europe? I shook myself out of my dream. I kept thinking that I was a healthy person, when I was nothing of the sort. I needed to either find a kidney or educate myself about dialysis. I'd have to figure out how and where to get that done in Palo Alto. Would it hurt? Would I lose all my energy and my muscle tone and turn into a girly-man? Maybe I'd do that, become skinny and emaciated, and then turn into a flamer. Yeah, that should go over well with my parents.

My parents. I opened the gate and let the lion out of the cage, and started to think about them and this whole situation. I was pissed off at them, but I just couldn't figure out why. It's not because they weren't great parents: they were. That alone should be self-apparent just because I was so surprised that they weren't my biological parents. They'd never treated me any differently. So why was I mad at them? Because they didn't tell me. They should have told me. They shouldn't have kept me in the dark about this. I noticed that I'd been walking along the lake front and it was getting late, dusk, so I turned and headed back toward the GMC.

Maybe they were afraid that if I knew I was adopted, that I wouldn't love them anymore? To me that seemed ludicrous. I was the one that was constantly in fear of losing their love. I reminded myself that if they figured out my real sexual preferences that may become a reality. They may end up hating me. Maybe I should go home and tell them. Then they could hate me for liking guys, and I could hate them for not telling me I was adopted. Only I knew I could never hate them, they'd been too kind to me, too good. I got in the GMC and headed home. I owed them certain things. I owed it to them to forgive them for keeping this from me, if only to assuage their insecurities. And I owed it to them to make sure they knew that I still loved them and appreciated them.

I began to wonder who my biological parents were. Why didn't they want me? Why did they give me away? Or even more basic, who were they? If I tracked them down, and they were a match, would they give me a kidney? I could just see myself walking up to the door, knocking, and having some woman answer wearing a lace apron. “Hi, I'm the son you gave away. I need a kidney. Can I have one of yours?” What would they say? “They”, I thought. “They” probably weren't even together. If they'd been an established couple, why would they have given me away? And how would I even go about tracking them down? I cruised up the long driveway and punched my opener, pulling the GMC into its protective cavern, and headed inside to face the music.

My parents were in the great room, drinking gin and tonics. Mummy saw me first and jumped up to hug me then stopped herself, wondering if I'd hug her back. The gesture ripped at my heart strings, so I walked straight over to her and gave her the biggest hug. I felt her body wrack itself with sobs. This poor woman had carried this inside all these years and had been forced to face her worst fears. I looked over and saw my father smiling at me approvingly.

“I'm sorry I stormed out of the doctor's office. It was kind of a lot to deal with, and I just needed to go for a drive and think it through,” I said.

“I figured as much,” my father said.

“Why didn't you tell me?” I asked.

Mummy looked to him to explain, which told me a lot about this whole thing, that not telling me was his idea. He swallowed hard. “We kept thinking that we should, but you seemed so happy, and we didn't know what was to be gained by rocking your world.” Mummy looked at him more sternly. “And we didn't want to lose you.”

“You're not going to lose me. You're my parents. Period. Somewhere out there are two people who created me, but they didn't raise me, love me, do everything for me,” I said. And then something extraordinary happened. My father actually cried. It was touching and disturbing at the same time, and all I could think to do was hug him tightly. We all kind of gathered ourselves together, our emotions, and sat down around the nice warm fire. A very homey scene.

“I need to find out who they are,” I said.

“Why?” my father asked.

“Because I'm curious and because I need a kidney. I don't want to live my life constantly being hooked up to a machine,” I told him.

“You think you can just walk into their lives 18 years later and they'll hand you one of their kidneys?” he asked.

“I think they just might,” Mummy said, looking at me proudly.

“If they say no, am I any worse off?” I asked him.

“I guess not,” he said resignedly.

“I'm not sure what I can do to convince you that I love you, Dad,” I said fervently. “Tell me, and I'll do it.”

He shook his head. “It isn't fair to throw my unfounded insecurities on you like that. You've been the best son I could ever have.”

Except I like to suck dick, and I want to find a guy to fuck me, I thought.

April 9, 1998

I drove the GMC into the parking lot at University School feeling strangely liberated. That really made no sense at all; nothing had changed as far as these guys knew, but having decided they could all go fuck themselves made things a lot easier. I walked through the corridor and ran into Kelso and Garner.

“Hey,” they said coldly.

“Oh, are you two douche bags talking to me today?” I asked sarcastically.

“What's that supposed to mean?” Garner asked.

“It means you're shitty friends,” I said. They just stared at me and I simply walked away from them.

“You're the one who let the team down with that bullshit stunt,” Kelso shouted.

“And you're the lame ass players who couldn't win a fucking game without me. How pathetic are you?” I shot back. I half-expected him to come at me and try and kick my ass, but I really felt fearless. Fuck them. I didn't really talk to anyone until lunch, when my cell phone rang. Ashley.

“Hey Matt. How are you feeling?” she asked, concerned. My mother had a big mouth, and her mother had an even bigger mouth.

“Fine and dandy,” I said flippantly.

“I heard about your kidneys,” she said lamely.

“So. You don't like me anyway. What do you care?” I said callously. I knew I was being a dick, but I had an ulterior motive in mind, getting into her pants.

“That's not fair!” she objected. “You're the one that went off chasing after all those other girls.”

“Well if you wouldn't have stood me up, I would have been with you like I should have been. I'm sure you and Cecilia had a wonderful night,” I said sarcastically.

“So every time I'm not around you're going to find some other girl to fuck?” she asked, pissed off. I knew she was pissed off when she said ‘fuck’.

“I didn't fuck anyone,” I said, conveniently forgetting about Cam. “But you can be all happy. I probably caught strep from one of those two whore friends of yours.”

“You're being a dick,” she said indignantly.

“And you treated me like shit,” I said.

“Maybe we shouldn't go to the prom together,” she said.

“Up to you,” I said, and then changed tack. I knew she didn't mean it. It was her prom anyway, not mine. “Of course, you'd be passing up a nice dinner.”

“Oh, now you're turning on the charm. You think that will work huh?”

“Yep,” I said simply.

“I'll see you on Saturday,” she said, and hung up. I smiled big. She'd make this all up to me on Saturday. I'd get laid. Woo hoo!

April 11, 1998

Kelso and Garner were escorting two of Ashley's friends to the dance, their way of apologizing to me for being dicks. They'd been hanging out with me non-stop since we'd had our confrontation at school, and it pretty much felt like old times. I sprang for a limo for all six of us, so I rode around in it, picking everyone up. We went out to dinner at the Club, since all of our parents were members and it was the thing to do, then headed over to the hotel where the dance was being held. The evening was going really great until we got there, and I saw him. Cam Heely. He was with some bitchy girl that Ashley hated, which was cool because that meant we didn't have to talk to him, or her at all. But I still found I couldn't keep from looking over at him, and I couldn't help but notice that when I looked at him, he always seemed to be looking at me. We'd been downing booze and smoking weed all night, so I was already on my way to being super fucked up. Despite that, I still had the presence of mind to go snag a room. I figured it was worth $75 if I could lure Ashley up there.

I was standing there, waiting for the hotel elevators so I could go up to my room and do some of the coke I scored. The door dinged and opened, and there was Cam, alone. He just stood there staring at me like an idiot, so I got into the elevator and hit my floor button.

“You weren't getting off there?” I asked him.

He said nothing, and it was quiet but for the sound of the elevator dinging as it went past each floor. “I couldn't do that,” he said.

“Couldn't do what?” I asked.

“I couldn't be with you.” I knew what he was talking about, about why he never called me back.

I was starting to get pissed off until I saw the look on his face. He was really scared. “What do you mean you couldn't be with me? Dude, I didn't want to have your babies. I just thought we could be friends.”

The elevator dinged and the doors opened at my floor. I got out and he followed me. “We can't be just friends.”

I opened the door and went in the room. He looked at me nervously and followed me in. I noticed for the first time that night how good he looked, how his tux set off his strong frame, how the black amplified his dark hair. “We can't just be friends eh?” I teased. “You had that much fun?”

“Yeah,” he said honestly as I turned around. “It was a fucking blast. And I know that any time I'm around you, I'm gonna want to do that, and people are gonna notice, and we're gonna be outed. And that's not happening.” He got more and more pissed off as he said that, building to a crescendo.

“Dude, we hardly ever see each other. What harm would there have been if you came over to my house, or I came over to your house every once in a while to hang out?” I asked.

“We wouldn't just hang out,” he said.

“Yeah we would,” I said, moving toward him. He backed up, away from me, until he was at the bed. I pushed him gently onto the bed then fell on top of him. “Naked.” I moved my lips down to his and kissed him, and then he was mine. Tuxedo pieces flew off of us like some cartoon until we were in bed and he was on top of me, just like the first time.

His lips were on mine as his hips ground into me and I ground back. I remembered him now, his feel, his taste, his smell, and it fueled my hormones like no other. I knew what I wanted, and I wanted it now. I pushed him off and went into the bathroom to grab those little bottles of lotion they give you. I tossed one to him.

“What's this for?” he asked.

“Fuck me.”

“You want me to fuck you?” he asked.

“Yeah. Right now. Fuck me,” I said. I lay on the bed, my ass in the air, wondering if this would feel as good as Aaron's fingers, wondering if all of my work stuffing things in my ass had prepared me for him. I spread my cheeks wide, like a slut, and saw him swallow. He poured the cold lotion onto his dick, then onto my ass, and rubbed it in. He was so sensual, so loving, way more than I expected. He probed me, loosening me up, and I started to wonder if I was the first guy he'd fucked.

Finally I felt his dick pushing against my ass. “Relax,” he cooed into my ear. “Let me in. Let me in.” He said that over and over, softly, soothingly, hypnotically, focusing my mind on my ass, forcing my body to relent and loosen. He pushed in and I tightened up, then he did the same thing. It seemed to take forever before he pierced my ring, and then the pain was devastating. I screamed. “Did I hurt you? You want me to stop?” he asked. God, his voice was so sexy.

“No. No. Keep going,” I said breathlessly, even though I felt like I was being ripped open with a traffic cone. I felt his dick filling me up, like I had to take a massive crap, as he pushed it in all the way.

“Damn this feels good,” he said. He began to pull out slowly, just a bit, then pushed back in, little fucks to get me used to it. And then he hit it, he hit the spot. I felt my whole body light on fire, my ass flew open, and my hips thrust back into him. I could feel his smile on my back as he started to pump in and out of me. I felt like he was jacking me off from the inside out, the most incredible feeling in the world. All I knew was that I wanted more, and I wanted it now. I heard his grunts as he fucked me faster and faster, and then he started slamming into me as he came, throwing his head back just like before. I barely had to touch my dick and it exploded, and then I came and came and came. He kept his dick buried in me the whole time, even after he'd finished, letting me enjoy the ride. It was fucking incredible, more incredible than I'd ever dreamed.

I turned around and looked at him and he smiled. “See what I mean.”

“Yeah. I see what you mean,” I said. “So you saying you don't want to be friends, and you don't want to come over and fuck me?”

“Shut the fuck up and put your tuxedo on,” he said as he grabbed his own. “We have to go be good dates. Hell, maybe you'll get laid again.”

“You think Cherise will be better than me?” I asked, mentioning his date.

“Dude, no one could be better than you. That was unfuckingbelieveable,” he said. I knew I was grinning ear to ear.

“You gonna call me this time?” I teased.

“You got plans tomorrow?” he asked.

“Nope,” I said simply.

“Good. I'm coming over.” We finished getting ready, did a few lines of coke, and headed back to the party.

“Where were you?” Ashley demanded. She was pissed. I'd been gone for forty five minutes.

“I snagged a room and checked it out,” I said.

“Why did you waste money on a room?” she asked, glaring at me.

“Because after I sweep you off your feet and dance with you for a while, I want to spend some time alone with you,” I said boldly. All these changes in my life had somehow made me more confident and cockier.

A slow song came on then, and I held out my hand gallantly and led her onto the dance floor. “What makes you think I want to spend time alone with you?” she asked, but it was playful.

I pulled her to me tightly and kissed her firmly, the move and the force sucking the breath right out of her. “That's why,” I said, and raised my eyebrow as I smiled.

“You are incorrigible,” she said, because it sounded like what nice girls were supposed to say at times like this, and because the chaperons were giving us dirty looks. We danced a slow dance, a couple of fast dances, and then another slow dance. I pulled her tight, letting her feel my hard dick through my tuxedo pants, rubbing it against her groin.

“Wanna see my room?” I whispered. She took my hand and led me to the elevators. In three minutes we were at the door of the room, five minutes after that we were in bed, naked, and then we were linked, fucking, and it felt so good. As I came, blasting my load into the condom, I couldn't help but giggle to myself as I felt Cam's load leaking out of my ass.

June 7, 1998

I stood in the line of graduates, waiting for my name to be called. I didn't make Valedictorian, which kind of pissed me off. If we'd won the hockey championships, I probably would have, but there was nothing I could do about it. Ironically enough, Jerome Harleton won the honor, and gave a deadly dull address where he spent way too much time talking about India and Pakistan and their recent nuclear tests. It wasn't very uplifting, this dangerous world he portrayed.

“Matthew Thomas Graves Carrswold,” boomed the announcer. I walked up on stage with my honors sash and shook hands with the assembled notables, smiled up at my parents, and walked back down the steps and stood in front of my seat, waiting for my row to be completed so we could all sit down at once, with something like military rigidness. I held my diploma in my hand and couldn't stop smiling. It represented so much to me: achievement, completion, adulthood, and most of all, freedom. Freedom from my friends that had already started to really annoy me, freedom from Cleveland with its shitty weather, freedom from my parents who were constantly staring at me as if they were trying to decide if I still loved them, and freedom to be me and not the person they thought I should be.

I thought about whom I'd miss out of the crowd, and there was really only one person: Cam. He was over at our house all the time now, but my parents had grown to like him so they were cool with it. We spent enough time downstairs to make it look like it did when Kelso or Garner came over, then we went up to my room and he fucked me. God, did he fuck me!

At first, we'd been kind of tentative, just doing it doggie style. And we had to have the whole condom/AIDS discussion. He told me I was the first guy he'd done, and we promised we wouldn't do anyone else without a condom. Pretty trusting, so trusting it would have been stupid for someone who didn't know Cam. As we'd grown to know each other's bodies and explore sexually, we'd grown to know more about each other. I found that when I didn't see him during the day, I had to jack off constantly. He fired me up and satisfied me like I’d never thought possible.

He was a really nice guy, and a great lover, caring and gentle when I wanted him to be, and rough and strong when it was fun. But now that things were winding down, our various summer plans were in front of us, and separation loomed, things were starting to get really weird. It started last week, when he'd get all strange when talk of graduation came up. When I mentioned Stanford, he actually made some lame excuse and left. And now, now that I was finally done and free, he'd made up some story and headed out of town to see his grandparents in Michigan.

It wasn't hard to figure out what his deal was. He was in love with me. I knew it; I could see it as plain on his face as I'd seen it on Ashley's when we started dating. But as much as I cared about him, I didn't love him. And he knew that.

So this self-defense thing he did, running away, leaving before I did, I just accepted it for what it was. I didn't give him a bunch of shit; I just gave him a warm goodbye. It would be easy to cry when I thought of him, but I stopped myself. People would just assume I was being all maudlin about graduating and leaving all these douche bags behind and that was too hypocritical, even for me.

Finally Dave Yost got his diploma, the last guy, there were a few more bullshit speechlets, and then we were graduated. I tossed my hat in the air, gave Kelso, Garner, and my other buds warm man-hugs, and headed off to find my parents.

We headed up to the Country Club for dinner, not an intimate family dinner, but a big affair with me, Kelso, and Garner, along with our parents and extended families. I managed to stay far away from Kelso's chatty mother, thank God, and hung around long enough to endure all the sentimental speeches and toasts, to stuff some food into my body, and to open graduation gifts. My parents gave me a watch, a beautiful TagHeur, along with a fat check to help me with my trek to California. It was generous and thoughtful, but I wanted to get to the party.

The Harletons were hosting this party too, although as trashed as their house had been last time, I found that kind of surprising. I guess since Jerome was Valedictorian, they felt obligated. So there I was, drinking like a fish, smoking weed like I grew it in my back yard, and doing a repeat performance of the last party.

“Dude, it's good to party with you,” Kelso said.

“Dude, we party all the time,” I said, rolling my eyes.

“No, just us. You're always with that Heely dude. What's with that? First you hate each other, now you're buds?” I looked into his green eyes and saw an emotion that surprised me: jealousy.

“Yeah, well he's kind of like mold. He grows on you. Reminds me of you. You smell like mold,” I joked back. I'd lost my tight connection with him for reasons besides Cam Heely, but it seemed smarter to just drift off into a new life than to try and make some dramatic statement. He smacked me and we did another bong hit.

“Dude, I got Jerome to let me stake out one of the rooms,” he said, changing the subject. “I'm so gonna fuck Lacy.” Lacy was this chick he'd been dating for about a month now, and she wasn't about to give it up quickly.

“Good fucking luck,” I said. “You'll be all alone in your bedroom jacking off, more like.”

“Fuck you,” he said playfully. “I don't see you closing the deal.”

“The night is young,” I said, trying to sound like Casanova. In the end, we were both all talk, and it wasn't Lacy who passed out in bed with Kelso, it was me. Two guys, stripped down to just our boxers, on the verge of vomiting. I finally dealt with the nausea, and focused on trying to just sleep.

Kelso was on his back, snoring, keeping me awake and pissing me off, so I elbowed him in the side to shut him up. Instead, he rolled over and spooned up behind me. I'd lusted after this hunky redhead all through school, and having him here like this, his arms wrapped around me, his body molded to mine, was pretty fucking stimulating. If this would have happened last year, I already would have cum in my pants, but I wasn't as into him as I had been then.

I felt his hips slowly gyrating as he pushed against my ass. He was so drunk; he probably thought I was Lacy. I didn't move away, I just let him do it, pushing back against him to encourage him. That made his movements more pronounced, and now I could feel his fireplug jamming against my boxers. I felt his lips on my neck, kissing me, finding that zone behind my ear that drove me wild. He was firing up my body now, really getting me going. I got up and pulled my boxers off, then pulled the lube I had in my pants pocket out and slathered it on my hole. I was like a boy scout, always prepared to get fucked. Then I climbed back in bed, just where I was before, and noticed that he stayed on his side now. Probably trying to decide if he really wanted to take this to the next step, I thought with a chuckle. He was too drunk and to horny to care. A hole was a hole.

I felt him push up behind me, his mouth working my neck again, his hands on my chest, playing with my nipples, and his short fat cock trying to spear me. I spread my legs wide and pushed my ass back toward him, but he was too big to just slide in automatically. I reached around and grabbed him, guiding him into me. He slid in smoothly and I felt him gasp. I gasped too. He had one thick cock, and that took some getting used to. Then he started to fuck me, rhythmic, methodical strokes, no variation, no changes, just a consistent pace. I almost laughed at what a pathetically boring lover he was, but he still felt good. He plodded on until his pace finally started to accelerate. I reached down and started stroking my dick and made myself cum before he did. I knew after he came he wouldn't give a shit about me. Then, nice guy that I am, I let him finish up. He pulled out of me right after he came and turned to face away from me.

The next morning he was gone before I was. I knew he was freaked out, and that he probably wouldn't call me again. When Cam had done that, it had devastated me. Kelso doing it, well, it just didn't matter that much. I was moving on.

June 8, 1998

I sat at the kitchen table and read the letter from Ohio Catholic Charities, the agency that had presumably arranged my adoption.

Dear Mr. Carrswold,

We contacted your birth mother and explained that you were interested in meeting her. She is reluctant to allow such a meeting, but has not ruled it out. I recommend that you compile a letter telling her a little bit about yourself, and explaining why you want to meet her.

She has allowed me to tell you that she resides in Ohio.

Sincerely,

John Martin, Case Worker.

I showed the letter to my parents, determined to keep them in the loop on this so they didn't freak out, and then headed up to my room to write a response, possibly the most important letter I'd ever write.