Turbulence - 7. Chapter 7

Daniel wandered down the sidewalk, enjoying the gentle breeze and the waves of heat reflected off the buildings. His apartment was not well placed in relation to the high school--he would be forced to catch the bus in September. But the uptown location did offer easy access to the parks along the river, the downtown shopping mall and a good cineplex. The young teen was in no hurry, he took his time soaking up the glorious sights and sounds of the midday rush. He pressed on past the public library without a second glance; there would be plenty of reasons to return in the fall.

The green of the park beckoned him, especially after being cooped up in his apartment these past several days. Daniel could always be certain that on any given summer afternoon there would be neighborhood friends waiting for him down by the pool. In the past, this usually meant Greg and Mandy. With Greg out of the picture, the door was left open to the possibility of having Mandy all to himself. She lived close enough--her house lay at the other end of Lion's Park with its swimming pool, picnic tables and playgrounds. The park had always been their common meeting ground during the hot summer months. Arlo's house closed the triangle on 7th Avenue at the other side of the Elementary School. Arlo lived out far enough to hang at the YMCA, an indoor pool which provided a welcome alternative in the off-season. But Daniel preferred Lion's Park pool in the summer.

Besides, he needed to build up his tan before going to camp.

Daniel picked his way through the islands of sunbathers. Behind his shades he took in the well exposed curves and swells of the girls. He settled next to a pair of younger women chatting about birth control options, fingernail colors and the latest Cosmo quiz. He flipped his towel down and planted himself while he pulled his t-shirt over his head.

"Oooh! Take it off baby!"

Daniel grinned at the ladies and reached for his sun block. He smeared lotion while he scanned the crowd for a familiar face.

"You want me to do your back?"

Two weeks ago he would have shrugged them off. Instead, he glanced over and nodded. Her cool hand ran across his shoulders and down his back. It made his hair stand up. She must have been all of twenty--he felt the tingle of her touch. He buried his face in his arms and pretended not to listen to the provocative comments about his muscles. Later, when he rolled over onto his back, they were quick to point out his six-pack. He hoped the semi-erection beneath his shorts wasn't too obvious.

Seven more weeks of summer. . . oh yeah!

The sun warmed his soul and he drifted a little on the soft breeze. His internal alarm clock kept him apprised of when to turn over, like a meaty husk of coconut roasting contentedly on the coals. As the sun drifted across the sky, he felt oblivious to the shifting crowd. When his throat became parched he leaned on his elbows to look around and take a sip from his bottle. The ladies were drowsing in their chairs and the sounds around him seemed muted by the heat. A couple boys he recognized from junior high waved at him. He didn't feel like talking to them but he waved back. They started over and he resigned himself to spend a few minutes with them.

Ravi was an overweight thirteen year old going into grade eight. He dropped down next to Daniel and offered him some chips. Daniel shook his head and high-fived Marty, the other incoming eighth grader who folded himself close to Ravi.

"So how's it going Daniel? Heard you've been to the high school parties. . . did you have fun?"

Daniel's mood was suddenly broken with a concern for any rumors which might be floating around.

"Let's see. . . The senior I'm hooked up with isn't so bad. . . I met a bunch of people and some of the parties were rad. . . the big party at the end of school sucked. It was like a frigging war and us grade nines were the casualties. . . Big warehouse rave surrounded by cops and a sick band. . . But the afterparty was the best--it was sweeeeet." Daniel pleased himself with his even-tempered account--he actually made the whole experience sound pretty good.

"Did you get hammered?"

"Oh yeah." In more ways than he cared to remember. "Tequila, vodka, beer--you name it, I've tried it."

Ravi and Marty grinned at each other.

"Get any high school pussy?"

Daniel was about to launch into his conquests when he was confronted with a sudden vision of Amber's glistening eyes and the hint of sadness. Then he remembered Arlo's question and how he had mishandled it.

"No," he replied bluntly, but wasn't completely satisfied with that, so he added, "But some of the girls were really hot."

The boys asked him about the high school and he gave them a description of the maze he had seen two Fridays ago. Marty questioned him about the eighth grade teachers they would have in the fall. The boys groaned at his descriptions, but Daniel backed down when he realized he was slandering people he had actually gotten along with. But how could he admit to these boys that he was pretty much a teacher's pet?

The three boys bantered back and forth in the hot sunshine until a beach ball hit Ravi in the head and they were distracted by some girls hanging at the edge of the pool. They decided to accept the girl's invitation and headed for the water. Daniel watched Ravi and Marty jump in beside the girls while he removed his shorts.

"Nice tight butt too," one of the ladies remarked, peering at the outline of his low cut square leg jammer.

Daniel smiled as he took off to join the game of keep-away.

Relax dude, they're only kidding with you.

Walking home alone he felt light and carefree. His cellphone rang and he pulled it out as he walked, looking ever so cool behind his shades.

"Yo yo yo." It was Mandy checking up on him.

He heard the squeal of burning rubber and glanced over his shoulder at a red Mustang commandeering the crosswalk. Some guys with attitude were having it out with an old man. But Daniel was more interested in the pony.

Now that would be way cool. . . me and Mandy in a cherry red Mustang on a hot summer day.

He slammed into someone coming the other way and almost dropped the phone. Hands grabbed him as he fell backward and they twisted around each other.

"Ugh. . . my bad! Sorry--"

Daniel paused for a moment to focus on the young teen holding onto him; Mandy and the phone were temporarily forgotten. This was not the usual business suit running late for an appointment who would invariably scold the boy for not paying attention. Daniel was surprised by the even stature of his 'victim' and offered an impulsive smile which sparked a sympathetic response from the dark haired youth.

Daniel felt moved to speak. "I-I shoulda been watching where I was going. . . Are you okay man?"

"Sure, no problem." The voice sounded restrained. The young fellow realized he was still holding onto Daniel; he pulled away quickly and dropped his eyes for a moment.

"Okay then. . ." Daniel felt compelled to reach out and pat the boy's arm. "Take it easy, bro."

The teenager gazed into Daniel's eyes before twisting around to a younger boy standing a few paces away. Then he turned back, gracefully pushed the long bangs off his face and shrugged his shoulders at Daniel. A faint smile crinkled his lips.

The two strangers were affected by something magical in the sunlight--they shared a reluctance to move on.

"See you around," the boy finally nodded and turned away.

No, not yet, not so fast. . . An urgent whisper pried at Daniel as the boy walked away.

'See you around.' Such a meaningless phrase like 'take it easy' or 'are you okay'. Just mindless chatter someone might say at such a moment on the sidewalk. But Daniel's curiosity had been indelibly aroused by this boy--the connection was made. Every once in a while you meet someone you are drawn to; you become obsessed with a desire to know them better. For Daniel, this dark haired boy was instantly one of those people.

Daniel shook off the feeling, turned away and went back to sparring with Mandy on the phone. She was put out by his distraction but he didn't care. She still owed him a kiss and he made it a point to remind her.

Echo
Moments Later

Laine caught up with his younger brother Nick and they continued up the library steps. He could not resist a look back at the handsome boy who had crashed into him.

Probably talking to some girl friend on the cell phone.

Laine had been scoping out the boy as he came down the street, listening to his brother's chatter with only half an ear. It was summer boy-watching weather and the shirtless flat abs above green shorts that rippled back and forth across his groin as he walked, the bare chest with just the kiss of a summer color touching his shoulders and the short shimmering light brown hair screamed for his admiration.

Why don't you take a picture Laine, it lasts longer.

The boy's shorts fit quite well, the v-lines were taught, but no sign of boxers. Hmmm. . . freeballing it? Laine had admired the view from the front and the view from behind was just as awesome if not moreso.

Get the whole damn photo shoot and post it to alt.binaries.erotica.laines_dream_boys why don't you.

"So who's that kid? Do you know him?"

Laine turned back to his brother and shook his head silently. His life was full of those kinds of moments. Maybe everyone's were and maybe age or gender did not matter. You meet someone and you feel a connection. Sometimes it was a teacher, sometimes it was a friend's mom, sometimes a chance encounter on the street. Laine stopped at the top of the steps and looked back down the sidewalk to where the boy had disappeared. Only he had not quite vanished from Laine's life. The boy was standing half a block away watching him, the phone held to his ear. The boy's eyes were hidden behind expensive dark glasses but a sensuous smile curved across his lips. Laine blushed with pleasure and ducked into the library. This was the kind of thing he had been hoping for in high school.

He must be about my age. He might even be in one of my classes in the fall. High School could be just the opportunity he needed for a fresh start.

"C'mon Laine! You said you would help me here."

"Stop bugging me Nicky."

Laine should have been back at the house helping his dad rough out the new laundry room and family room in the basement. Instead he was babysitting his brother. Moving was a good idea, even if he still had to share a room with Rerun. All the world could see that they were brothers. A steady progression of school pictures lovingly enshrined by their mother provided ample proof. Even their impish grins matched, at least up to the point where Laine's sad eyes stared back at the camera in grade eight. A new neighborhood hopefully meant a fresh start, a chance to escape the awkwardness of lost friends and the hostility of the bullies.

"What was the title again?"

Nicky danced beside him as they headed over to a computer station. Laine sighed. His younger brother was off to camp the next day and it was hard not to envy him a little for that. Their mother had caught on to her older son's glum expression when the opportunity to go to camp was first presented to Nick. All she could do was offer Laine a sympathetic smile. How could she turn down this camp scholarship for little Nicky? It was a bursary Laine himself would have enjoyed receiving as a precursor to grade five. But things were not going well in the Bryant household and Laine knew better than to complain. Until his dad fully recovered, they would have to live on compensation and what his mom could earn. His parents would never admit to it, but it was obvious they were trading down houses into an older neighborhood. Laine's job was to watch over the squirt and help out whenever he could. Today they were on a mission to find a book his dad had recommended. The real mission was to stay out of dad's way.

"My Side of the Mountain."

Nick insisted on doing the search himself so Laine stood over him as he swiveled back and forth on the chair and pecked at the keys. Laine could have written the book in the time it took Nick to type five words. It took a while to find the book and then, even though Nick was a ferocious reader in his own right, Laine had to sit with his ten-year-old brother and read him the first chapter as Nick snuggled close under his arm. This was enough to get the boy hooked. Laine moved away toward the railing and leaned over to examine the crowd. The brothers rarely visited the main branch; before they moved, the branch out at the mall was closer. The oldest neighborhood in the city meant an older crowd at this library. Laine watched one young man slouched in a soft chair reading a book. He had a sexy face, almost Ethiopian. His long legs were stretched out in front of him. He might have been a university student. Certainly not high school. The man shifted his legs and threw a bare ankle over his knee. Laine liked the way that position accentuated the package beneath the worn fabric of the man's jeans. There were one or two men his dad's age who still looked pretty good, but all things considered, older men did not do much for him. Laine concluded that this was not the place to perv at guys. He wished he could go out and explore the park by the river. If he went down to the pool there would be plenty to see. He turned away from the view and looked down the stacks to where his brother lay on the chair with his feet kicked over the back. Laine decided to look for a book on tree houses. He knew he would find what he was looking for faster on the net, but he had nothing better to do, so why not make use of the time? He had been eyeing the huge walnut tree in the back yard and thought it would be perfect for a tree house. He figured he could surprise Nick when the boy got back from camp. His dad could help him with the tricky business of safely attaching the main joists to the trunk.

It would be a way to pass the time. . .

Half an hour later, Laine gave up looking for tree house plans. Even with the help of a librarian, he found he had no patience for the library; not when Google could provide instant gratification at home instead. He occupied his time by tracking down a couple books to read and settled in next to his kid brother. Laine had read Hatchet in school, so he decided to give the sequels a try. Nicky might even look them over when he was done. The whole idea of living alone in the wilderness had enormous appeal at the moment. Laine also found a copy of The Outsiders. He liked to imagine Ponyboy was his boyfriend. Except maybe Ponyboy would have shorter hair like the boy he bumped into on the street.

Laine had to adjust his cock. Yes definitely, and tough muscles too, switch blade and chocolate breakfast cake optional.

It never hurt to dream. . .

----------------

Everyone was sleeping, even Rerun. Laine stared past the half-eaten bowl of popcorn and the discarded cans of soda at the flickering television screen. His dad disapproved of his nocturnal lifestyle; something to do with the 'bad habit' of sleeping in till noon. His dad was reduced to fiddling about the house, waiting for the doctor to clear him so he could get back to work. The idea of his eldest son sprawled in bed oblivious to his frustration definitely rubbed him the wrong way. Laine got away with it because he pulled his weight the rest of the day. He flipped channels idly with one hand while the other caressed his scrotum through the thin fabric of his boxers. He enjoyed the solitude of the night. The new house was no bigger than the last, which meant that until the family room was finished, Laine would have no privacy during the day. He had argued for his own bedroom in the basement and lost.

Younger brother would be off in the morning and then he would have the room to himself. Laine considered how he felt about his brother's holiday, losing himself in the northern woods for a couple weeks. He craved companionship and missed the acceptance of his friends. Antony, Troy, Abdul and Laine, the Fearsome Foursome of the seventh grade, the charmed inner circle and now he was the outcast. Laine had started to let his hair grow long the day Tony had called him a faggot for the first time.

He wondered if high school would really be any different. His mother had given him the letter from Riverview; it sat on the desk between the brothers' beds. The letter mentioned something about a mentor, but he did not know how to take the news.

This could be a bad thing.

Laine let his hand slip under the band of his boxers and let the course hairs tickle his finger tips.

What were the odds this Duncan dude would take kindly to a gay freshie?

Laine had not heard from his senior yet; this bothered him a little. The local news had been full of reports about the illegal party thrown by the seniors with the knowledge and blessings of the police. Well, city approval or not, his mom would never have let him attend an unsupervised party where alcohol was involved. That was one of many rules in the Bryant parenting book. High school had officially started and Laine was left standing out in the cold. Girls he chatted with relayed stories of people who had gone; Melissa had actually been there. He eavesdropped on her chat with Wanda right after the party.

Boys had been kissing boys! The thought made Laine hard. What would that be like? To kiss another boy even in fun?

He closed his eyes and put himself in the party; his senior good-naturedly encouraged him to kiss another boy. Maybe the brown-haired one with cute blonde streaks and a good build.

Laine glanced toward the stairs leading to the bedrooms before he pulled his boxers down. He had been feeling a little jumpy ever since his mother had spoken to him about the computer. A week ago Laine fretted while his mom checked her e-mail. He had been sitting on the couch watching Nick play a game when his mother asked for his help. She was hip deep in Explorer when he came to stand over her shoulder.

"This is such an old out-dated computer isn't it?"

Yes Mom, it certainly is.

"I notice we don't have much room on the hard drive."

Three hundred megabytes of free space, what do you expect?

It made Laine nervous when his mother took too much of an interest in the computer. She had the Internet Options window open.

"What is this Browsing History here?"

"Ummm. . . that's a record of where people have gone and some files are temporarily saved there so the computer can reload faster." Laine felt an urge to snatch the mouse away from his mother.

"Oh. . . so this little green thingy in the favorites window lets you look at the history?" She opened the favorites window and the curser moved dangerously close to the tab. Laine nodded his head mutely. She took her hand off the mouse before continuing, "Do you think we could save space on the hard drive if we deleted the history and the temporary internet files?"

"Well sure. . . a little." Laine shifted around her quickly and reached for the mouse. With a few practiced movements he reopened the Internet Options and purged the history with a click. "I guess every little bit helps."

From now on, he would have to be more careful.

"Computers are so helpful, I don't know why your dad doesn't like them. I suppose other programs remember things too don't they?" His mother had snaked her hand onto Laine's back. "It might help if you checked things out for me. . . see what files we could delete."

All he could do was nod his head again as he stared at the monitor. He relented her embrace for a few more seconds.

"Thanks for showing me how to do that honey." Another strong squeeze, as if she needed him close and a fiercely whispered "I love you Laine," before she pushed him away playfully. "Now go away and let me do some research before supper. . . shoo."

Later that night, Laine checked over the computer and reluctantly deleted some stretegically placed file folders. His mother had cleaned out the history from her own afternoon search.

That was close.

In the flickering dark with only the cat for company, Laine entered his dreamworld. But he could not quite hold the boy on the street in his mind. Details were slipping away. It really didn't matter; the summer boy staring at him behind dark glasses in bright sunlight was just a dream. Nevertheless, the moment was important to Laine. The boy's interest meant he was not invisible; someone was actually capable of wanting him. Laine was very hard now. He slid a hand across his chest, fingers and palm pulling double duty as the boy's hand caressing him, while he reciprocated on the boy's warm flesh. The boy's arms felt strong where he gripped them. They were arms that would draw Laine close for a soft hesitant kiss. Laine arched his back thrusting his cock through the tight ring of his thumb and finger while he pressed the soft flesh of his elbow joint against his lips. He was desperately searching for the sensation of another boy's lips against his. Shared breath and shared need, Laine relaxed back into the couch cushions and let his shadow lover press against him. Both hands were now working on his need. Rampant perspiration dripped from his armpits while fluids caught by his palm brushed across his glans and then added to his spit-coated rod with each urgent stroke. Laine pushed himself further until finally the orgasm washed over his body, offering him a temporary release as his chest was spattered with the hot white tears of his desire.

Laine slowly kissed the palm of his hand, drawing in his own musk in a deep breath. He dropped the arm across his eyes and across his sticky chest and abdomen; his body drifted.

See you around.

The boy's voice called brightly and Laine whispered it back like a prayer at Mass. He said it again louder, see you around, and his own voice shattered his memory of how the boy sounded like a pebble disturbing the perfect mirror of a still pool. Laine lay on the couch, his desires sanctified again by his self-anointment. The guilt and fears of the day left him, the rightness of it all came at moments like these and they made Laine feel whole. He was in no hurry to return to the solitude of the living room with its flickering television, even as the summer boy drifted away like a wisp of smoke or a shape in the clouds that suddenly loses its form.

See you around.

Rocky Horror Picture Show
Saturday, June 26th

It was the first time Daniel had been over to Denver's house since the Freshie afterparty. He lay on the couch quietly waiting. He felt ground down by the experiences of the past few weeks and could not get enthusiastic about another humiliating evening. He wanted to be a good sport for the seniors, but he couldn't get Arlo's initiation on the bank of the river out of his mind.

"Tell me again. . . why do we have to do this?"

Because you're so sexy and I like taking you to parties. Denver stirred at the memory of Daniel at the warehouse party. If the older boy had been honest with himself he would've admitted he actually looked forward to showing his young companion off at these parties. But he chose to recite the party-line instead.

"The Freshie Court recognizes four parties this summer, two at the beginning and two at the end. People are expecting me to take you to all four of them. . . I'm going away for a week in August to see my dad. That's when the swim party is supposed to take place. . . which would've been fun, but I'll be out of town so we can't make that one. So after tonight, that leaves just the Freshie Dance which kicks off the year as the only one left. The more appearances we make, the less chance we have of facing the court and you don't wanna face that court. It's best to keep a low profile at the beginning of the year."

Daniel could only imagine what an appearance before the court could mean, but he still had his doubts.

"What do the teachers think about all this? Are they really that spaced out about what's going on?" Daniel tried to supress the resentment creeping into his voice.

"When you get your schedule I can tell you which teachers will help you and which ones won't. But I'm warning you--they only care about what happens inside the school."

Denver saw the problem if Daniel could not. The school had gangs, drugs, and even prostitution to deal with every day. Where did the school draw the line? Usually at the school boundary. Beyond that, it was a free for all. Which is why Denver planned a few more gatherings during the summer outside Riverview's immediate sphere of influence. He wanted Daniel to meet some other allies he could count on during the seemingly hopeless battle of freshie year.

Denver slid over to the end of the couch, picked Daniels feet up and set them on his lap, then proceded to message his young friend's feet while attempting to change the subject.

"You should see Eddie's room."

This immediately caught Daniel's interest.

"Karl put a shower in the staff bathroom and knocked a hole in the wall so it connects with the work room. He's practically turned it into an apartment. Then he filled the old door space with a stained glass window he found. Everyday there's something new. . ." Denver privately worried about how the health inspector would react to these additions.

Daniel smiled. "I'll have to stop in and check it out." Daniel liked to hear about the Brass Lantern, it was fast becoming a part of his life. He could imagine himself working there when he was older.

They were interrupted by the arrival of Amanda and Mark. Mark took in the intimate arrangement on the couch and then commented that Amber wasn't coming, due to a family commitment. Daniel seemed oblivious to the awkward moment, but Denver pushed Daniel's feet off his lap and stood up. He smiled slightly at his brooding lover and moved over to a bar stool.

Mark sat across the room and let Amanda take charge of Daniel. She had scrounged a pile of clothing items which she brought with her in a big bag.

"I'm the fashion consultant tonight and Beth is going to come by to do hair and make-up."

Mark stirred uneasily when he heard this. He cursed Amanda under his breath, knowing full well what she was trying to do. He glanced over at his lover trying to gage his reaction to the news. Denver's ex-girlfriend was a formidable opponent in the battle for the young man's heart -- all the more because she didn't even have to try. Denver looked at his watch and Amanda took the hint.

"We're going to use your bedroom Denver so you two get lost."

"Can't we watch?"

Amanda firmly shut this idea down. Daniel followed her back to the room and sat on the bed. He waited with apprehension while she dumped the contents of her bag onto the bed.

"I figure this stuff is all about your size."

Daniel picked through the clothes. "Denver already told me it was going to be like The Rocky Horror Picture Show."

Daniel had rented the old movie the night before and watched it in growing horror. Janice had been cute and vaguely familiar to him. The bald hunch-back had been okay but the black outfits were too gay. The movie had really bad special effects. If Arlo would've seen it with him, they would've carved the show up from start to finish. But lately Daniel had been cautiously avoiding his best friend.

Amanda dismissed his comment with a snort. "I'm sure he would've liked that. . . He needs to straighten out a little." She spread out a few items and actually smiled as she finished. "We're going to look sooo pretty!" She searched for a minute and held up a razor and can of foam.

"I don't need to shave."

"Oh yes you do!" She made a little shaving motion with the razor in the air. "You have to do this Daniel. You're hairier than you think and take it from me if you don't shave now, someone will decide to do it for you at the party. . . Now do you want to do it yourself, or would you like my help?"

Daniel's problem was that he never shaved before and didn't know how. If he had a dad at home like Arlo he might've been able to watch and learn how it's done. He considered the collateral advantage of Amber fussing over him.

"You do it."

"You better strip and get into the bathtub for this. Just don't try getting me distracted in there."

Daniel stripped down to his boxers and stepped into the shower. He kept himself under control, but he knew it wouldn't last long. She helped him by not paying attention. She applied foam in small doses to his downy legs. To her womanly credit, she used the razor with delicacy and patience. When she finished with his lower legs and passed on his hairless thighs she took on his arm pits. Then she made him shave his own face. Daniel was upset by the shave. He valued each and every much anticipated follicle and felt she was kicking him back to the sixth grade.

"Don't worry Daniel. It'll grow back. . . you hairy stud you!"

She ran her hands across his body looking for places she missed. Satisfied with the job, she sent him to the shower. After he dried off, Amanda took baby powder and sprinkled it all over him.

"Now it's time to play dress-up." She tossed him a pair of black panties, then helped him negotiate the bra. She slipped two large artificial breasts inside. "Some women aren't so lucky Daniel. Cancer is cruel. My grandmother loaned these to me so you better take care of them."

Daniel nodded and tried to get used to carrying the weight. While Amanda chose a skirt for him, he took the opportunity to adjust his cock within the tight confines of the panties. It felt funny.

She gave him a mini skirt with a wide belt to try on. It sat low on his hips and came down about half way to his knees. She handed him a short black v-necked top that left his midriff bare. Not satisfied with the result, she decided to switch to a similar styled black skirt and pink top.

Amanda stood back and admired her creation. "That does it for me Daniel. . . Now it's Beth's turn."

Daniel sat down on the bed while Amanda cleaned up; she glanced over at him.

"C'mon Daniel, you're not a slut! Close your legs and sit up straight."

They went back into the living room; Daniel felt very self conscious about his appearance. Denver and Mark were sharing drinks and a conversation. The freshie froze at the door when he saw the other girl. His face burned and he found he couldn't stop staring. Denver and Mark noticed the reaction and smiled at each other.

Mark handled the introductions. "Beth Kincaid, this is Daniel Murrell."

Beth smiled back at him and his groin stirred. She rose from her chair and came up to him. She brushed his cheek.

"You're such a sweetie!" She looked him over and spun him around. "Nice job Amanda!" Then she studied his face. "Let's go on over to the bar and turn on the lights so I can see what needs to be done."

Daniel followed her like a faithful puppydog over to a bar stool and reveled in the cool touch of her hands on his freshly shaven face. She was drop dead gorgeous. She knew it too, but she hid it in a way that made even pretty girls like Amanda feel at ease. Something about her face and eyes seemed familiar and Daniel was drawn to her.

"What are you wearing for shoes?"

Daniel was unable to articulate.

"I've got some low pumps for him." Amanda contributed, holding them up for Beth to see.

"Let's do his nails first."

Beth sat in a bar stool next to Daniel and gestured for him to set his foot between her legs. Lifting his foot meant letting the dress ride up to his crotch and Daniel had risen to salute her beauty some time ago. His foot nestling in her womanhood did not help matters at all. He sat staring at her, trying nonchalantly to conceal his erection with his hands. High school was proving to be demanding on his fourteen-year-old body.

Beth ignored him and focused on his feet. "Daniel you should cut your nails more often."

He blushed all over again and closed his eyes as she she brushed his toes lightly with her fingertips. She cleaned his nails with her kit and shook her head absently as Amanda offered up color choices from the manicure case. Across the room Mark knew that Denver would be equally distracted with Beth. Mark even recognized the girl's charms himself, but was not drawn to them.

"How's Mandy? I haven't seen her in awhile."

"What?" Daniel replied blankly. He couldn't make the connection.

Beth dazzled him with a warm smile and went back to work on his toes. "I don't know why we are worrying so much about your nails; everyone will be looking at your face and that impossible rack you are carrying around. . . Oh and by the way, Mandy is my cousin, our mothers are sisters."

Suddenly, Daniel realized why she looked so familiar to him. His eyes filled with wonder--it was like catching a glimpse of Mandy in three years.

"I'm out of school now. I work downtown at Chatters."

Okay, make that four years.

Daniel studied her a little more closely and took in the similarities and differences. Hair color darker, the nose seemed wider. Of course, Beth was much better built than Mandy. But Mandy was only fourteen. . .

"You two look a little alike," he finally choked out.

Beth switched feet and continued working. When she finished his feet she did his fingers. Daniel had to lean forward and put them on the table for her, but he was regaining control of himself. She worked on his face, commenting to nobody in particular that he needed to keep his make-up light.

"Just like the girl next door--sweet and warm with something to share with that special someone. Remember, you're not a slut and you don't put out for just anyone."

She stopped and gave him a hug. Daniel cursed the false breasts that kept her warm softness away from his chest. She finished it off with some matching lip gloss.

"What do you think we should do with his hair?" she asked Amanda.

"It's really too short, but I think you could style it. . . I brought a couple wigs too."

While Beth went to fetch them, Denver and Mark wandered over to see how things were moving along.

Mark was amused by the transformation and the boy's discomfort. "My brother would go for you Daniel. . . do you like younger men?"

Daniel's eyebrows narrowed in annoyance.

"You look like you're just about ready for Denver." Mark nudged his lover a little. "The best of both worlds eh?" It was a mean thing to say and he knew it.

"Shut up Mark."

But the truth was Denver was fascinated by the transformation. He had no interest in cross-dressing. But he felt taken in with the girl Daniel might have been. Young boys had such fine features. He wondered if that was what drew him to Daniel in the first place. He was certainly drawn to Daniel's mother. He realized the freshie was watching and waiting for his reaction. Denver didn't want Daniel to think he liked him this way so he said "Daniel's better the way he is, but this will do for the party."

Daniel flashed a greatful smile and then turned his attention to the wigs. He tried on long straight hair that feathered his shoulders. Beth and Amanda liked it so they finished him off by wrapping his own shock of hair beneath a hair net and pinned the wig securely to it. They offered Daniel a mirror and he took a quick look at his face framed by long dark hair.

It could be worse, Daniel reflected.

Beth started to take the mirror away when on an impulse Daniel pulled it back.

"Like what you see?" quipped Mark.

Daniel shook his head slightly as he studied himself. Actually he did like the way he looked, but couldn't understand why. There was something inexplicably familiar in the young male face framed by dark shoulder-length hair. He turned his face back and forth and then tossed it slightly. The hair fell over his right eye and he brushed it away with a quick gesture. That movement spoke to him. He stared at his reflection thoughtfully.

"We need to get going Daniel."

Daniel turned to Denver and the moment passed.

When he stood up to try the shoes on, Beth remarked "You know. . . you can dance in that outfit, Daniel."

It was time to go.

Bright Eyes
Saturday evening

Denver and Daniel drove in silence to the second installment of the Riverview Summer Freshie Party series. Daniel discovered this meant many locations. It was actually a collection of house parties scattered around the west end. The dangerous flow of young people moving from house to house went a long way toward explaining why the police were so accommodating about the warehouse party concept. They considered the first Riverview Freshie Party to be the lesser of two evils, which is why they allowed it to be held each spring for the last four years.

"How does anyone know whether or not we make it to these parties?" asked Daniel.

Denver dug a plastic token out of his pocket and handed it to Daniel. It was like an over-sized coin with the school mascot on one side and the word 'Grad' on the other.

"We'll get three of these this summer and one each month after that. At the end of year party next June we have to pay for your freedom with twelve tokens."

"Who comes up with this stuff?" Daniel couldn't believe his humiliation was that well organized.

"Teachers and the SRC probably; they are always looking for ways to build school spirit."

Denver remembered the enthusiastic promotions the staff made in the closing weeks of the year, trying to sell the public on their mentorship program. There were even TV spots where earnest seniors and freshmen talked to the news reporters about how much they had gained from the year of mentoring. Feel good stories about building houses for Habitat For Humanity and disabled students finding their strengths filled the airwaves. The hallways were lined with uplifting posters promoting the joy of sharing one's talents with others. It was called 'peer mentoring' by the school and Denver might have bought into it better if his own experience had not been so cruel.

"How come we can't just get someone to give us the coins and skip the party?"

Denver glanced over at his freshie, then back to the road. Daniel was not by nature a cheater, but the circumstances made it an attractive option.

". . . Or why aren't there normal parties like the one you had. . . where everybody just has fun?" Parties where Daniel was not forced to dress in drag and be the butt of everyone's jokes.

"The organizers take themselves very seriously and they think I have an attitude problem." Denver had shared his opinions about the program's darker side too freely. He knew there was nobody on the committee willing to do him a favor. By the time he had thought about the advantages of having a well-placed friend or two, it was too late. "I guess lots of seniors do just that. I'm sorry Daniel, I screwed up this year and those guys know what I think of them. They wouldn't give me the sweat off their balls. They're going to make me earn every token the hard way and unfortunately, you're just caught in the middle. There are lots of really cool parties and I'll take you to a few. It's not all about freshies and seniors. . . Trust me, you'll see. . ."

It was true that most seventeen-year-olds did not welcome the ninth graders to their parties. Daniel considered the pros and cons as they pushed their way through the early evening traffic.

"So why did you even get involved in this at all? You could've sat the year out and done your own thing," Daniel thought out loud, but apparently not loudly enough for Denver to hear him over the stereo.

"What?"

"Nothing."

Are you doing this for my benefit? He looked over at Denver silhouetted against the city lights. Denver caught him looking.

I like you. . . you're cool, Daniel thought. "Hey, let me shift at the next light."

Denver's BMW was seriously cool too. Daniel never lacked for things, but his mother would never let him have a car like this; or the cherry red Mustang for that matter.

"In your dreams kid." Denver had his limitations and nobody drove his dad's car except him. His dad had given him an Echo for godsake. When his dad was out of town the Echo sat in the garage gathering dust.

"How fast does this baby go?"

Denver had no intentions of opening it up for him.

"The speed limit."

The truth was, Denver had run it up once or twice out on the highway. His dad might be on the road a lot of the time, but Denver almost always followed the rules. It was part of what made their family work since his mom walked out. Denver understood that his dad needed to know things were okay when he was halfway around the world. Mark could not understand why Denver rarely threw parties, but this was the reason. Things had to stay in control. . . for dad's sake.

Daniel shifted uneasily next to him. Denver had to keep reminding himself that he wasn't on a date with a slightly shorter version of Daniel's mother.

"I should call you Heather tonight."

Daniel glanced at him and Denver cursed the slip.

"By the way, she's twenty-nine. I asked her after you asked me."

She always seemed old to Daniel, but once he did the math he realized his mother must've been fifteen when he was born. Health class taught him about the nine month rule, which meant that she was fourteen when. . . Denver did the same math and reached the same ugly conclusion--Heather Murrell had been a freshman when Daniel was conceived. The fact that Daniel's father was out of the picture made things even uglier.

He glanced at Daniel and wished he could confront the SOB: How could you throw this boy away?

"I wish she could find a nice guy," said Daniel. "How old's your dad?"

Denver laughed. "He's about forty-five this year." Denver stopped to consider the idea. His dad didn't have a girl friend, but he hadn't let himself go that much. "Your mom would hate a guy like him--he's always on the road."

"When's he coming home? I bet my mom would like to meet him. She always wants to know my friend's parents."

In fact, she was a terror about it. Daniel always felt embarrassed when a friend's mom or dad ended up in their kitchen and he just knew they were dissecting his private life.

"He'll be back from China in September. Your mom phoned him last Friday."

"She telephoned China? Shit she just won't stop. . ."

"I told you she said she would kill me if I let anything happen to you."

Denver thought about his own mother's disinterest in his life. Strange how my mom and his dad have this in common. At least my mother admits she has a son.

"Who knows? Maybe they can have coffee together sometime."

And maybe we would eventually become brothers, they both thought.

Denver pulled the car over and parked.

"I hope it isn't too far, these shoes are too small--they're hard to walk in."

They only had to walk three blocks to the party Denver had chosen. He felt Ashley was the least offensive of the people hosting parties tonight. Her mom managed a hotel and the basement of her house was converted into one humungous party room. Ashley's freshie met them at the door. Daniel didn't know her. She must have gone to a different school. She was dressed in formal attire--an expensive looking tuxedo. This didn't seem fair to Daniel. The girls got to dress like boys, which half of them normally did anyway. As Denver followed Daniel in the back door she directed them down to the basement and handed Denver a token. He examined it and slipped it into his pocket. She didn't give Daniel more than a quick once over.

The party didn't have the wild feel of the warehouse. Across from the stairs was a wide bar packed with people. To the left of the U-shaped space there were three booths that looked like they had been lifted from a restaurant. A large space extended backward. Denver thought it had the feel of a bar lounge. A lot of furniture and fixtures had apparently migrated from the hotel into the basement of Ashley Ball's house. Denver spotted a free chair next to someone he knew (and liked) and pushed Daniel in that direction. He sat down in the chair and seeing no other ones available, pulled Daniel onto his lap. He let his hand rest along Daniel's smooth thigh. Daniel leaned back against Denver's shoulder to get comfortable and felt the sudden stiffness of Denver's cock against his leg.

Denver's friend was sitting with a young girl dressed much the way Daniel would have dressed for school. She actually looked pretty cool in the skater outfit. He didn't recognize her and since this was the freshie thing, he didn't talk to her either. They smiled at each other and tried to keep a low profile. Denver didn't bother to introduce him to the senior but Daniel gathered his name was Garrett Keeler. They shared an interest in football and fell into a discussion on next year's season. Daniel glanced around the room and noticed that things seemed much more civilized than the previous party. There were grade nines dancing together and all of the seniors seemed friendly with their freshies. Daniel noticed two seniors checking out a boy's costume across the room. The girls were scolding the boy for not shaving his arm pits. One of them pulled out a razor and dragged the boy back to a bathroom.

The other girl picked up on Daniel's interest and strolled over to check him out. He dutifully raised his arm to show he had shaven. She glanced at his legs and surprised him by kissing his face.

"Good boy!" she said and slid her hand along his thigh up to his crotch. Her friend called her back and she left without another word. The boy stumbled out of the bathroom some time later looking upset and the girls resumed their self-appointed inspection.

Garrett suggested that the two freshies go and dance so Daniel took the girl over to the area near the bar and they danced awkwardly for a while. Daniel learned her name was Wanda and this was her first party. She asked who had done his make-up and he blushed. He explained the work Beth had done on him and they shared a joke about his breasts and the way they kept bumping into her. When the music got livelier a couple of seniors organized them all into a line dance and Daniel began to enjoy himself with the kids his own age. The girls kept laughing at the boy's bouncing boobs and they in turn became less self conscious about the clothes they were wearing. It was beginning to feel like the parties they all hoped for in high school. Daniel was sweating profusely underneath the bra and decided it was time for a break from the dance floor. Wanda had hooked up with some friends so he left her behind and went looking for a bathroom. He veered around the crowd to the right towards a pool table and air hockey table and bumped up against Troy, his nemesis from previous encounters.

The Pimple turned around and frowned when he saw a grade nine had bumped into him. "Fuck off you little prick."

Daniel back peddled quickly and turned, but it was too late.

"Stop you little shit," Troy barked before Daniel could slip away; Daniel froze. "Turn around baby doll."

When Daniel turned he saw the telltale signs of recognition in the older boy's eyes.

Troy turned to a friend and said "this little cunt keeps giving me attitude every time I see him." He bore down on the freshie. "I think we need to have a little conversation. . . boy." He grabbed Daniel's shoulder and led him to the back of the room. He checked a door and then shoved Daniel into the storage room beyond. Daniel careened into the furnace and fell to the floor dazed. "Every year there's a few zits like you who think they're too good to be freshies. . . Your gay boy master was one of them." Daniel's eyes widened when The Pimple drew his belt off his jeans. "Don't get your hopes up, fag. You're not gonna get to wrap your lips around my cock and I'm not interested in your fudge hole. I just don't have a paddle handy and I have no intention of touching your fruity ass cheeks with my hands."

Daniel pulled himself to his knees. His heart was pounding in his ears and he was covered in sweat. As Troy moved closer, the freshie felt like he might piss his pants.

The Pimple told him to get up and lean against the wall. Daniel guessed what was coming from the way Troy was swinging the folded belt loosely in his hands. It still didn't prepare him for the blow and the stinging pain he felt in the small of his back.

"What do you say freshie?"

"Thank you sir," Daniel gasped out.

His legs were weak and he didn't think he could take another hit. Didn't the seniors only get to hit him once? There must be a freshie rule book somewhere saying you could not use belts. Troy hit Daniel a second time on the back of his thighs where there was no cloth to protect him and he nearly buckled to the floor. He pulled himself up and murmured another thank you through gritted teeth. The tears were flowing now and his nose was running. He was waiting for the next blow when he heard Denver's voice behind him. There was a cold fury in the young man's tone.

"Is there a problem here?"

Daniel did not move, but relief flooded through him and he forgot about the tears dripping down his cheeks.

"Step outside the door Daniel."

Daniel left the room without a glance at either senior and leaned against the wall as Denver closed the door behind him. For some reason, he could not stop the tears.

Troy put his belt back on while Denver blocked the door.

"What the hell is wrong with you Troy? That was way out of line." Denver had to work to keep himself under control.

"What the hell's the matter with you? That kid has an attitude. Every time I ask him to do something he disrespects me."

"Let's see. . . he didn't want to hit a friend and he didn't want to force himself on a girl. So what? These kids are not really our slaves. Do you understand that, Troy? It's supposed to be just a game. What the hell's your problem? You had him up against the wall and you were laying into him with that belt like your dad used to beat you."

Troy's eyes flared up at the memory.

"Yeah Troy, how are you any better than your old man?"

"Shit Denver, you think your kid is some kind of hero for standing up to a senior. But it's all about showing the proper respect, he needed an attitude adjustment . . . so I gave him one."

The two childhood friends were now up in each other's faces.

"Why should he act like he's grateful when you're beating the shit out of him?" Denver looked him in the eyes. "I remember what your dad did to you. I remember the nights you came over to my place. Were you happy when your senior Terrence Shipley turned you over to the football team? Was there gratitude in your voice when you thanked him for selling you out?"

"Shut the fuck up! Don't you ever mention that again or I'll drift you." Troy was furious at Denver. "Don't forget, you were there too."

Denver had been, and when it was finally over, the two freshies had sat curled up in the locker room crying together. Now, the two seniors stood their ground in the furnace room, with all the pent-up anger and their mutual sense of betrayal hanging between them like a toxic cloud.

"Did you get all the compassion fucked out of you in grade nine? How can you look at yourself after you've molested that little girl out there--"

Troy lashed out at Denver with a vicious left hook that snapped his head back. But Denver quickly regained his senses and retaliated with a series of driving punches to the face with his right fist that drove Troy back across the room. Denver tripped him down onto the floor and stood over him with his arm drawn back for another punch.

"Have you had enough? Or do you want some more?"

Troy stayed where he was and shook his head. The two were evenly matched--they always had been--but for some reason, Troy did not have the heart to keep fighting.

Denver turned and walked back toward the door; he stopped without turning and added "We used to be tight Troy. . . we were brothers, remember?"

Troy leaned back against the wall with his eyes closed but Denver knew the words were getting through.

"I'm sorry that's changed. I can't be the person you want me to be and I can't go along with you on this. . . If you hurt my friend again, you'll have to deal with me."

Denver stalked out of the room.

Shake it off
A few minutes later

Denver stood by the bathroom door while Daniel cleaned himself up. He shoved the whole ugly thing with Troy back where it belonged. When Daniel came out his mascara had stopped running and he looked a little better.

"I'm sorry Daniel, but we have to stay awhile longer or move to a different party. What do you want to do?"

What Daniel wanted to do was get the hell out of there as quickly as possible. Denver already knew that, so he just suggested that they might as well stay. They bumped into their host as they went to look for a seat. She ignored Denver's bruised face and graciously informed them that Troy had decided to move on to a different party. The pair relaxed a little and found themselves back in a chair in the lounge area. Daniel reached out and touched the side of Denver's face where he had been hit.

"Thanks."

The joy of the occasion had been wiped out by Troy in the furnace room.

Ashley reappeared with a couple of cold beers. "You two look like you could use these."

Daniel drank his quickly and Denver gave him the other bottle. He remembered his crack about Troy molesting his freshie. Denver did not feel he had done much better. He was finding it harder to keep his hands off of Daniel. Even now he felt a strong urge to take him back into his lap and kiss the hurt away. He wanted to feel the damage done to Daniel's body by Troy 's belt and soothe it with his lips. He knew they needed to release the tension and restore themselves, so he suggested they dance with the others.

Daniel reluctantly agreed.

The dance floor had turned into a miniature mosh pit with too many people. Daniel and Denver lost themselves in the music and strobe lights. Daniel caught glimpses of Denver dancing alone or with others loose and wild. His own dancing was not as polished and he knew it. Caught up in the crowd and slightly buzzed from the beer, he recovered from the pain and humiliation. The fear escaped him and he didn't even make a fuss when Simon bumped into him. He danced again with Wanda and then with her friends. At times he even seemed to be dancing with the boys. Finally, covered in sweat from the wig, he sat down to catch his breath at one of the restaurant booths.

Caught in the flashes of strobe light, Denver looked very much into the music. He danced slowly, eyes closed, seemingly alone within the crowd of dancers swirling around him. Daniel felt glad they were friends. He was thrilled to be a part of a cool party like this, filled with uninhibited dancing seniors and freshies. This was exactly what Daniel had been looking forward to in high school. If the Troys of the world would simply disappear, he could deal with the girls checking out his arm pits and the Halloween costumes he was supposed to wear. Most of the time being a freshie was just like being the rookie on the team. Respect the veterans, let them have first crack at everything and show them you're a good sport by going along with the hazing. Then when you become the veteran it's your turn to be the boss.

A figure slid around the booth and jogged his elbow. "You look hot tonight Daniel."

Daniel glanced at Simon whose drag costume was a nod at best to the rules of the evening. He had his hair in a ponytail and one large rhinestone clip-on earring. The effect was more pirate than girl.

"How about a blow job?" teased Simon.

"I don't need one right now. But I'll remember your offer when I do." Daniel deliberately turned the tables on his reluctant friend.

But the prick was not going to let it drop. "Chris said you sucked him like a pro so I thought you'd like to take a real cock in your mouth."

Daniel ignored him as best he could, but could not resist throwing a punch. "So what happened to your cheerleader, big boy?"

Simon looked uncomfortable. "She's dancing with her boy friend."

This caused Daniel to pause and reflect on his own freshie experience--there had been far too many low points, but there had also been some incredible highs. Denver might not be the cheerleader of his eighth grade fantasies, but he was there to protect his freshie. Their times alone together or at the Brass Lantern were great. He decided to end the verbal sparring with Simon.

"Look Simon, I've had a rotten night and your lusting after me is not helping. We're caught up in this nightmare and I for one can't wait to wake up."

"You're such a poet Daniel."

Denver finally came over to rescue Daniel; he took in Simon with a friendly glance.

"Simon wants to give you a blow job Denver."

Denver considered the short boy and his long blonde hair with fresh interest.

"Hey! I'm up for it. Let me just sit down and you can slip under the table and do me."

To Simon's dismay, Denver sat and slid around until Simon was trapped between them.

"But I have to tell you Simon, I don't like to get bitten."

Denver loomed over the small ninth grade boy and Simon froze not knowing what to do.

"Denver likes to spank me when I've been a bad freshie," Daniel added, offering a hint to the boy of a possible way out.

Simon looked back and forth at them feeling very unsure of himself. Daniel and Denver waited with amusement. Finally Simon found some humor in his situation and turned to Denver.

"I'll take the spanking if you don't mind. . . master."

Denver laughed and commanded both freshies to sit where they were until he came back. He returned with two beers and a bottle of water for himself. As they sat and drank, Denver asked Simon to tell them some stories about his cheerleader. Simon caught a view of the twelfth grade girl sucking face on the dance floor and launched into a series of lurid stories that poked fun at himself while destroying the senior girl's reputation. He was a funny story-teller as Daniel already knew. Denver was fascinated by the little comic and happily took the role of the straight man. When Simon finally suspended his monologue, Denver reciprocated with some stories about her of his own and the three of them burst into laughter when the subject of the conversation appeared to collect her freshie and leave.

Simon thanked Denver for the beer and told Daniel "thanks bro, I needed that."

Turning Simon around restored Daniel's humor and he danced for the next half hour with the grade nine girls. Denver had to pull him away at the end.

In the car, Daniel remarked "it really can be a good time. . ." He glanced shyly at Denver and confided "this is the way I thought it was gonna be!" Then he blushed in the dark. Why did he have to sound so gay all the time? He and his friends planned to be so cool in high school. They were not supposed to chatter like girls. Be cool. Keep your mouth shut except to throw a burn out once in awhile. They had practiced their maturity on the seventh graders; putting down their enthusiasm with the weight of their world-weary experience. Here he was dressed like a chick flipping his hair at a guy and what's worse. . . gushing about his "feelings". He should be talking about the beer he hammered back tonight and how drunk he felt. Actually he did not feel the beer anymore. He must have burned it off on the dance floor.

Denver broke the silence. "This is pretty much how I hoped it would be too."

Denver had a way of making Daniel feel better about himself.

Goodbye
Early Sunday Morning, June 27th

Denver sat while Daniel took off the outfit. He watched as Daniel carefully folded the clothes and placed the bra with Amanda's grandmother's breasts on top. Daniel took a look at Denver and then went for the shower. Denver listened to him washing and thought about the welts on his back and thighs just bellow his butt. Daniel called to him and asked if he had any make-up remover. Denver came into the bathroom to tell him he did not.

"Here, give me the washcloth for a minute."

Daniel closed his eyes and Denver tried to rub the eyeliner and lipstick off of his face.

"I think I got most of it off."

He sat on the toilet while Daniel continued to wash.

Daniel was not sure why he had lured Denver into the bathroom. He did not mind having Denver watch him shower. He had been showering with other boys since he was in grade four at school. He had watched Arlo use the shower at his apartment the time they discovered a new use for the side jets. If he had been asked to think about it, he might have said it just seemed like one of the things friends and team-mates did. Skinny dipping in a cold lake with the guys was part of the traditions at camp.

Daniel turned away to wash his groin then arched his back under the shower to rinse off his hair. Denver appreciated the view. When the boy stepped out and dried off Denver asked to see the welts. He touched them lightly where the belt had broken through the skin. Daniel twisted around, trying to assess the damage.

"I'll never hit you again."

Daniel turned to face his senior; the towel covered nothing but Daniel's face showed no self-consciousness about his nudity.

"If you won't, then who will? Troy?"

It was like that game Jumanji--once it started you could not quit until the game was over. Denver pulled his freshie in, leaned his forehead against Daniel's naked chest, felt his warmth, smelled the fresh scent of his body and listened to the boy's gentle breathing. He put his arms around the boy and twined his fingers together at the small of the boy's back. Daniel wrapped his arms around Denver's unruly hair and they held each other for a moment.

"It's hard sometimes," Denver mumbled.

He let go of Daniel and stood up. Daniel followed him into the bedroom and lay down on the bed naked. He did not want to get dressed. His nakedness was a connection to Denver and he did not want to break it yet. Clothes would end the evening and he would have to leave. It might be half the summer before he saw Denver again. Daniel stretched out like a cat on the bed cover and rolled onto his stomach. He wanted to keep his senior talking a bit longer.

"Do you like Beth?"

"Yes"

"No I mean do you like Beth?"

Daniel was okay with Denver and Mark. He knew he should be all cool about it, but he wished Denver had a girl friend. He could not imagine living his life with a guy.

Denver looked at the boy flirting with him on the bed. Daniel did not realize he was asking Denver to reveal his most intimate struggle. Sex for Daniel was probably nothing more than simple gratification. Denver was past that and demanded a satisfying relationship. That meant long term commitment and making a choice about the gender of your life partner. He also had a strong need for family and he knew that part would be difficult with another man.

"Yes I guess I do like Beth a lot."

Daniel revealed his innocence with his next question.

"Does Mark know you like her? What does he think?"

"Hey Daniel, that's Mark's business not yours. Don't be so quick to ask people about their relationships."

"Sorry." Daniel ducked his face into the bed cover for a minute.

Denver relented and moved onto the bed beside him. He reached out and scratched the hair along Daniel's neck and stroked his spine before speaking.

"Mark hates the idea I might leave him for anyone. He knows I haven't figured out what I want to do yet."

Leaving Mark was not something Denver had contemplated doing. Daniel rolled on his side and propped himself up on an arm.

"She's pretty hot Denver. She doesn't look like the type who is going to be alone for long."

Denver poked him in the stomach.

"Are you putting pressure on me?"

Beth was hot, but Daniel was wrong about Beth. She was like Denver; willing to hold out for something that would last and might lead somewhere.

"Beth is wise. She isn't afraid to be alone and she is very patient when she wants something." He looked back at the naked boy. "Are you the patient type Daniel?"

Daniel thought about Mandy and rolled onto his back and tucked his hands behind his head.

"I'm trying to be," he said with a deep sigh; he decided to try one more question. "Does Beth usually get what she wants?"

Denver got the real question, but he was not sure it was right to give an answer. He had to pause before he replied.

"Yes she usually does."

But then, Daniel did not seem to realize that Mark also usually got what he wanted too.

"These are not easy choices Daniel. The world is full of people who you can make a life with."

That was too permanent for a fourteen-year-old to think about.

". . . or people you like. I think there is more than one right person for each of us. I know its a heavy thing to think about Daniel. You might think you have the right person, but it might turn out to be someone else entirely."

Daniel was a bit of a romantic. He had known Mandy for years and he had a hard time imagining there was anyone better than her. The idea that there might be some total stranger out there who might be better and that he might never know for sure unsettled him.

"I don't know Denver. . ."

Denver poked Daniel in the side.

"Don't worry about it Daniel. I was just trying to explain myself to you. But keep an open mind kid, you never know who you might bump into."

Daniel looked at him skeptically. It was time to break the connection and take the boy home.