The final bell of the day sounded; school was over for another day. One day nearer the weekend and one day nearer the end of the semester. Don't get me wrong – I liked school, but you can have too much of a good thing in my view. That was specially so during the warmer weather when there were so many better things you could be doing than sitting in a classroom listening to your English teacher droning on about split infinitives, or your Math teacher trying to explain quadratic equations, or your History teacher telling you why McDowell lost at Bull Run. All interesting things, but none of them of great appeal to fifteen year old Logan Fitzpatrick today of all days.
So I gathered up my things and headed for my locker. I made sure I got everything out of there I needed for tonight's homework and put everything in my school bag. I was anxious to get home because mom had texted me during the day to say that a package had arrived for me. I knew what was in it, well at least I was confident I did as normally I didn't get packages, but this had to be it. I'd used some of the money from my recent birthday to order a copy of Tom Brady's biography and couldn't wait to get started reading my new book.
Now you'd think because I'd bought it and wanted to read it that I'm a budding quarterback with grand ideas of making it to the pro level and play in the NFL, but you'd be wrong. Let's face it, every kid wants to be a quarterback, but nearly all of us have to settle for something less. Me, I could run and so I'd become a wide receiver.
However, today I had a problem. I wanted to get home for that reason, but my best friend Tyler Andrews hadn't been in school today and Tyler never missed school. You might think on that basis that Tyler was a nerd, but he wasn't. He liked to be at school because it meant he didn't have to be at home. For the same reason he liked to be at my house, plus when he was there he knew he was loved by me and my parents.
Yeah, I did mean loved by me. We were gay. I'd known I was gay like forever and had come out to my folks when I was thirteen. They'd told me they'd suspected I was gay for some time and it made no difference to them as I was still their son. There was no way though Tyler could possibly come out to the bully who was his father. So, to the world at large we were Logan and Tyler best friends, the same as we'd been since we met on our first day at kindergarden. Back then Tyler had a mother, but she had died when he was about ten. His father changed at that point. I suppose he couldn't cope with the loss and started drinking. Also, he blamed Tyler for her death. It was true that she'd been driving to collect him from school when an idiot had run a red light and smashed into the side of her car. But it was totally illogical to put the blame for that on Tyler. However, it was what his father did and their relationship, which until that point had been good, fell apart.
Tyler had ended up keeping the house clean and getting his own breakfast. My mom helped initially by cooking meals for them and delivering them to their house, but as time passed she was made to feel unwelcome and unappreciated. As a result the deliveries stopped and Tyler started having dinner with us on a regular basis. It was when the bruises started to appear on his arms and sometimes his face that mom told me I needed to invite him to sleepover more often. He grabbed at these invitations like a drowning person finding a lifebelt and before long he was spending half the week with us, plus as much of the weekend as he could.
I guess because I was an only child I had a big bedroom complete with a double bed, so Tyler and I had slept together since whenever. And because we grown up as best friends we'd never had any worries about seeing each other getting dressed or undressed. Of course with a double bed there was plenty of room for both of us and we each had our own side. It wasn't until we were about twelve and puberty came along that things started to change. Being as close as we were it was inevitable that we would start comparing dick sizes and counting the hairs as they appeared around it.
It was summer and it was hot so we were both in bed just in our boxers and with a sheet over us. I knew Tyler had had a bad day that Saturday because he hadn't come down to the park in the afternoon which he usually did. That might mean his dad had found some chores for him to do or perhaps he'd grounded him. Fortunately it proved to be just chores as he arrived at our house late afternoon. He wasn't happy though and I spotted a new bruise on his arm. Didn't ask about it though; he'd tell me about it in due course. He was quiet all evening and when we went to bed he didn't want to watch a movie or play a computer game. Just said he was tired and wanted to go to bed.
So that was how we came to be lying there. I'd not drawn the curtains and the full moon was lighting up the room. It was sort of magical. All of a sudden I felt his left hand take hold of my right, before he slid across the bed to end up next to me. I heard a little noise and realized he was crying.
“Tyler, what's wrong? Why are you so upset today?”
There was no immediate reply, but I sensed he was trying to stop crying.
“Tyler, tell me what's the matter. Is it your Dad? Has he been at you again?”
“You'll never leave me will you Logan? I couldn't live if you weren't here.”
I was taken aback – and worried. Was Tyler suggesting he might kill himself? That was real heavy for eleven o'clock on a Saturday night!
I rolled over and straddled him. “Tyler I'm never gonna leave you.” And then I leaned my head forward, brought our lips together and kissed him. Immediately I realized what I'd done and pulled my head back. I was scared of how he'd react. We'd always been friends, but not kissing friends! I felt his arms come round my back and then he pulled me down.
“Do that again, Logan...please!” So I did and this time his lips opened and allowed my tongue to enter and I did the same. We continued, making little noises, breaking apart very briefly every now and again to draw breath. As we continued I could feel myself getting hard and I knew I wasn't the only one. Tyler ran his hands down my back to the waistband of my boxers, pushing them down so my dick sprang free. And then he touched it and it was like a spark had been ignited. Oh yeah, I'd been rubbing at least one out every day for a while, but I'd never thought of anyone else touching my dick. But now my best friend was. It felt great and I was sure it grew another half inch right there and then.
This was unfair though, so I pushed myself up and looked at him. There was a grin on his face and a sparkle in his eyes that hadn't been there earlier. I scooted slightly backwards on the bed so I could get to his boxers. He lifted his butt; I pulled the boxers down and his uncut dick sprang free and erect. Now I could touch it and feel the smooth skin as I ran my fingers down it. Tyler moaned. I put my fingers in my mouth to wet them and then ran them over and round the head. His moans became longer and louder. He let go of mine and then rolled us onto our sides so we were facing each other. Now we could kiss again while we started to grind. We were both so excited that it seemed but moments before we were both pumping.
That was the night our relationship changed. We'd always been friends, but now we were on the way to becoming lovers. Of course we couldn't let anyone know that, although it didn't take too long before my parents worked it out. We admitted it to them, swore them to secrecy and promised in exchange that we wouldn't have full sex until we were both sixteen. That was an easy promise to make as neither of us fancied doing that. We were quite happy showing our love for each other manually and orally.
And so today when I got off the bus instead of going home to start reading my book, I walked quickly round to Tyler's house. I rang the bell and go no answer. He'd given me a key a few months earlier which I'd never used until now, so I let myself in. It was quiet as if nobody was there. Ahead of me though I could see a broken door, the door that led to the family room. It was a glass door and the glass was smashed as if someone had kicked it in anger and broken it. Carefully I pushed the door open and looked inside. In front of me and to my left I could see a small heap of something that was almost totally covered by a bloody white shirt. From the little bit that was visible I had a horrible feeling that I knew what was underneath. To my right, on the settee was Tyler sitting bare chested with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands. His upper body was moving and he was making almost silent sobs. I looked beyond the settee and there stretched out on the floor, just in front of the coffee table, was his father. I walked over to him and as I drew near cold see the pool of now almost dry blood that was around his head and another smaller one near an ankle.
What the hell had happened?
I went and sat down on the settee, put my arms round Tyler and hugged him to me. I started whispering and saying meaningless words into his ear in an attempt to draw him back from wherever he had gone. Finally, after several minutes, he flung his arms round me and burst into tears. It took a while before he got beyond that and finally was able to talk. What he did say was initially almost incoherent and made little sense, but after a while he began to calm down. Then I was able to ask questions and fill in the gaps.
What finally emerged was this. He'd been upstairs in his room getting ready to go to school when he'd heard a loud crash. He came down to discover the glass door into the family room smashed. When he walked into the room there in front of him on the floor was the body of his dead calico cat 'Molly'. It was her body that was covered by the bloody white shirt he had put on that morning for school. Apparently the cat had been sick in his fathers chair. He had gone berserk on discovering that and chased the cat round the room trying to kick it. One kick has broke the glass in the door, but another had landed on the intended target with predictable results.
We'd always been afraid that something like this might happen and would have taken the cat in, but my mom is severely allergic to cat fur so that wasn't possible. We had suggested to Tyler that he ought to try and re-home it, but it wasn't a young cat and it was also a link to his mom as she had originally got it for him when he was very young. Thus he'd decided to keep it since normally his father more or less tolerated it, except for when he'd been drinking. Usually when that happened Tyler would make sure to keep 'Molly' in his room, but that evening he'd failed to shut his bedroom door and the cat had made its way downstairs with fateful consequences.
On seeing the body of his cat Tyler had snapped and attacked his father. Under normal circumstances that would have been a foolish thing to do, but his father was still drunk. Tyler started pushing and punching him, his father stepped backwards, I guess taken by surprise that Tyler was, for the first time ever, reacting to something he'd suffered. Normally had that happened he'd simply have hit him but I guess a combination of the drink and surprise caused him to step away. As he did so his feet got tangled. He tripped over and fell hitting his head on the table. From the size of the blood pool I felt sure he'd died almost immediately. The smaller pool near his ankle I guessed had come from a piece of glass when he kicked the door.
When Tyler had finished talking he started crying again. I was surprised he had any tears left. I found myself crying too, but not for his father, just for Tyler and what he was going to have to live with for a long time. Even in dying his father had managed to inflict one final hurt on him.
When we both eventually stopped crying I raised his head from my chest and kissed him. This wasn't a tongue kiss; it wasn't even a 'kissing friends' kiss, it was to tell him that I loved him and I'd always be there for him.
We'd watched Tyler's home situation deteriorating and a few months back my folks had applied for Foster Parent status which had been approved. My folks suspected that either his father would throw him out of the house or he might one day beat him senseless and the CPA would remove him. We were thus ready to step in if and when that happened to ensure Tyler would have a proper home.
This situation though wasn't one we'd expected. Hopefully the authorities would realize that Tyler hadn't meant to kill his father and that his death was accidental. First though I need to call my father, tell him to call his lawyer and for the pair of them to get here so we could discuss the situation with Tyler before calling the police.