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    Jack Frost
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Moving On - 21. Chapter 21

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

And there may be some sexual contents. Be warned.

It’s been two days since that eventful night of embarrassment and the relief that followed. Krist has been nothing but all normal as if nothing had happened. His silly moods in the morning were directed to everyone as usual, not just me and Ben. So, now it’s Julien, Loïc, Matt, Cecile, Adrien, and Krist that know all about us, and they took it like it was a small simple thing to deal with. My life has changed ever since Ben stepped onto the bus on that day, and I blame that stupid bastard (with humor intended) for making it complicated and fun at the same time. But I still feel paranoid about it with everyone else that has no clue. The real test, which is my mother over all, hasn’t begun. I rarely, or more like never, felt any hostility in my own home region in the middle of the woods where it wouldn’t be surprising to find that things are a little “behind” concerning issues in American society as a whole. Much better than Iran though, where I just read that a coupe of teenaged boys got hanged for simply being gay. Ah dear old Pennsylvania, still stuck in the middle of things.

Right now I’m with Mom going down the mountain on Highway 81. She managed to get a day off to take me to the driving center in Hanover Township. I’m feeling too tired since it’s almost 9am now, and I’m not a morning person on weekends.

“Any questions about the rules or something?” Mom asked.

“No… I don’t think so,” I grinned, “But how can I trust you? You’re going 75 in a 65 now, and there’s a cop right there,” I pointed at a hiding spot with a glimmer of white through the bushes.

“Smart mouth…” she smiled and slowed down by a state police car.

We arrived at the driving center and since it had just opened, there was no line. Mom took me to the counter with the application and my birth certificate, and wrote a check to pay for the fees of just $31. The woman behind the counter processed my application and birth certificate quickly and told me to go to a computer to get started.

The first question was, “To avoid hydro-planning, what should we do? A) Speed up. B) Slow down and hold the wheel steadily. C) Stop immediately.”

This was too easy, I thought, so I picked b) and I got a green correct mark. I have to get 17 of 20 questions correct to get the permit. All of the questions went by like a breeze, except I identified the school crossing sign wrong; I confused it with a pedestrian sign. Then there was just one more question. No matter what, even if I got this wrong, I’d still pass because so far I had 18 of 19 correct. It was just a silly question about a stop light.

“If you want to make a right turn on a red light: Who has the right of way? A) You. B) The driver around you. C) You must yield to all drivers with a green light before turning right.” And I answered c) and voilà, a green mark and a congratulation that I passed.

“Woot!” I shouted until the other test takers around me stared, “Sorry” I apologized and went back to the lady at the counter to tell her I was done and had passed.

“I heard’cha,” the lady smiled, “Congrats and here’s your permit. Drive safely, huh?” She handed me a plain piece of paper about the size of two credit cards with my name and information on it. I went to the waiting room where I saw Mom. I threw the permit down between her and the newspaper she was reading. She smiled and went to read it. She got up and we walked out, and then she picked up the phone to call someone.

“Hey Amanda. We’ll be there in a couple of hours, ok? Love you,” she said to the receiver.

“Eh?” I looked at her all confused.

“We’re going to see your sister,” she wiggled the key set at me, “And you’re driving.”

“Woot! I get to drive to Jersey!” I grabbed the keys and walked to the car. We jumped in and I put the key in the starter, but it won’t even start. Not even a clunk.

“You gotta press the clutch down,” Mom noted.

“Oh…” I pressed it down and it started nicely, then I let it go and it stalled in a second.

“Don’t let it go!” Mom said, but it was too late, the engine died. “Keep it down always when you start it, when the engine is running at full stop, or it’ll stall,” she sighed.

“Everyone has automatic except us…” I smart mouthed.

“Just get it moving or I’ll drive,” she rolled her eyes, “Shift to reverse and slowly let the clutch go,” I did what she said. I moved the stick to reverse and let the clutch go and pressed the gas. But the tires squealed and I slammed on the brakes and again killed the engine.

“You gotta press the clutch if you’re gonna brake like that,” she noted.

“God…” I restarted it and managed to back out and stopped to move the stick, but I killed the engine again. Shit!

“I know I know…press the clutch…” I told Mom before she had the chance to say anything. I restarted it and set it into the first gear, and managed to get out of the parking lot. Mom smiled, all pleased.

“You did better than me the first time. It took me fifteen minutes to leave the parking lot,” she grinned, “Your grandfather had a lot of headaches after that.”

“No kidding… How long ago was that?” I asked.

“1976…” she answered, “And be quiet, I’m not that old,” she grinned, waving her hand to tell me to keep on driving. I looked left, right, left before pulling out onto the street.

“If you’re trying to go that fast, move to the third gear, not the first one,” Mom noted.

“Oh…” I moved it to the third gear and it felt easier to go faster then. Then my cell rang. I reached in my pocket to answer, but Mom grabbed it from me.

“Worry about driving. I don’t encourage talking while driving,” she flipped the cell open, “Hello?” Then she made a funny face, “Ben?... Oh Steph can’t speak now. He’s driving. Yes, he passed. He’ll call back later, I guess.” And she hung up.

“Mon chéri?” she asked. I blushed extremely hard.

“It means ‘my bud’,” I translated, though it really meant “my dear.”

“Oh… I was just wondering since he spoke French first,” she appeared not to care much. I got on the highway and put the stick on overdrive. It’ll take a couple of hours of driving to get to where my sister lives in New Jersey.

I went through the Pocono Mountains and an hour later, we crossed over the Delaware at the Delaware Water Gap to New Jersey. Mom had to remind me to get some gas because the needle on the gas guage was really touching ‘empty’, and she rolled her eyes telling me she better not have to come out to get me because I ran out of gas while on the highway. I got out to pump some in, but an assistant told me not to.

“Huh?” I wondered.

“You can’t pump your gas in. Only we can. State law,” he answered and took the pump for me. Oh, I forgot.

“Oh…then put twenty in, please,” I gave him the money and got back in the car, muttering ‘only in Jersey…’

We continued to drive until we reached the town of East Orange, which is not very far from New York City. My sister lives in an apartment in the town near the bus stop connecting to her university in Manhattan. We went up to the door of a building with a nice Victorian façade and rang the door bell. A girl with black hair, blue eyes, and a skinny figure came out. My sister and I are quite the look-likes except for a slight difference at the shape of our chins.

“Mom! Steph! Hey!” she jumped.

“Hey Amanda,” Mom and I said and we hugged and kissed her.

“I miss you guys and I’m so glad you came over to see me,” she waved us to come in, “And Steph, did I just see you behind the wheel when the car was parked?”

“Yeah, I just got my permit today. Mom surprised me by letting me drive here,” I grinned while I took off my shoes. We went up the stairs to the second floor, which consists of her apartment. As we got there, we saw a guy sitting on her couch doing homework. He noticed us and looked a little surprised.

“Oh, sorry Amanda… I didn’t know you were expecting guests,” he started to fold up his books and put them in his bag, “Should I leave?”

“No… I don’t think it’ll be necessary,” she said, “This is my mom and my brother, Steph.” I waved at him.

“Hello,” Mom went to shake his hand, “And you must be?”

“My boyfriend, Mike,” Amanda answered.

“Oh? And you never told me about him,” Mom looked at her and went back to smile at Mike, “Dear, stay here. I want to know what she’s up to,” she winked her eye.

“That’s great… Let’s go in the kitchen for some coffee and a sandwich,” she pointed to the kitchen, “I made turkey and cheese, our favorite!”

“After you, Mike,” Mom, still smiling.

Holy shit. Mike is just plain hot, especially when I’m behind him seeing his tight jeans hugging his bubble butt. Damn, my sister landed a mighty fine one! Ok, shut up, my little gay muse, and sit in that corner again until you decide to behave! I went to sit down between Mom and Amanda, taking half of a sandwich from the plate in the middle of the table, and put some spicy mustard all over the Swiss cheese. I continued to stare at Mike. He’s obviously in his early twenties, about 21 or 22, which is two or three years older than Amanda. He has a mop of curly blond hair, pale skin, and blue eyes. Hmmm, I’d do him any day if only I weren’t with Ben now.

“Steph?” Amanda waved at my face, “What are you doing?”

“What…” I snapped out of my daze, “Sorry… I was thinking and staring out of that window.” Amanda looked at me a little suspiciously, like she had something on her mind.

“Don’t mind him,” Mom told her, “So, Mike, how did you meet her?”

“Oh, we go to the same school together and share one of our classes,” Mike answered with ease.

“Yeah, we kinda hit it off when I had to partner with him over a project,” Amanda noted, “Pity you haven’t got a girlfriend to show me now, Steph”.

“Erm, I’m fine where I am,” I blushed extremely deeply. She noticed and grinned, knowing that she succeeded.

“Of course you are,” she cheekily responded.

“What? Are you telling me there is someone?” Mom looked at me.

“No!” I blushed even deeper, “Jesus, Amanda.” She giggled. “Seriously, I’m going at my own pace. If she comes in my path, that’s fine. In the meanwhile, I have my friends, so I’m not really lonely.”

“Ah! Speaking of friends, Steph made a new one,” Mom said before talking a bite of her sandwich, “Yeah, a boy named Ben and he comes from Canada… Montreal.”

“Oh really?” Amanda subtly pressed her for some more details.

“Yeah, they met about a month ago and they pretty much go out every day,” Mom continued explaining, not having a clue what Ben and I do during our moments together. And I still kept on blushing. Amanda looked at me and made that look again.

“And they went to Montreal together,” Mom finished up.

“Oh I love Montreal! I went there a few months ago with my friends to dr…” Amanda cut herself off, but Mom caught up.

“To drink?” Mom rolled her eyes.

“Yes… But it was more than that, I swear!” Amanda groaned.

“Yes, sure, hon,” Mom smiled, “Relax. I drank when I was your age and it was legal to do so. But then, it is legal for you to do so in Canada, so I don’t have a problem with it.”

“Yeah, we did a lot together up there. We went to Quebec City and Ottawa as well with Ben’s gay friend, Julien,” I said. Wait, I shouldn’t have said ‘gay’. Amanda didn’t notice anything, except nodding to confirm she has heard everything.

“That’s great,” she added. Then we went on talking about random stuff. After that, we decided to go to the city for a little shopping. Amanda drove us over since she could get a cheaper parking rate for parking at her own school. We went into the subway to go to Fifth Avenue. I got excited when I saw an H&M store and ran in to be blessed with neat clothes at inexpensive prices. Mom and Amanda went to the ladies’ section while Mike and I went to the mens’. Mike just grinned and made a couple of comments on some of the clothes, but moaned that it was a little costly for him.

“My credit card is almost full and I dedicated a paycheck to pay all of it off,” Mike grinned, “Lemme know if you find something good at $20,” he said in a New Yorker accent.

“Are you from here?” I asked.

“Yeah, from Queens,” he answered.

I saw a guy not too far from me, checking out a shirt, and looking obviously gay. As I bent my head down to look at the jeans’ size, I could tell he was looking at me, and I think he knew I was watching him for a little longer than normal. I took the jeans and went to the fitting room to try them on.

“I’m going to try this out, Mike,” I told him.

“Alright, I’ll still be here,” he nodded.

I checked into a fitting room and tried on the jeans. they looked nice if the mirror wasn’t failing me. I’ll see if Mom will buy them for me. I left the fitting room and saw that gay guy talking to my sister near the door.

“Oh hey,” Amanda saw me.

“Hi,” I looked at that guy next to her.

“Oh, that’s my friend, Guillem,” Amanda introduced him.

“Hey, I’m Steph,” I shook his hand. He had a rather light hand and shook my hand as if it was as fragile as a feather. Ok, now that’s creeping me out a little bit.

“Where’s Mom?” I asked.

“She’s upstairs,” Amanda looked for the stairs to show me.

“Okay, I’m going to see her. Sorry, Guillem, but nice to meet you,” I went to the stairs and started up them. I saw my sister looking a little confused at what Guillem was telling her. Eh, must be about something that wasn’t my business.

After holding shopping bags of clothes from H&M, American Eagle, the Gap, Urban Outfitters, and Victoria’s Secret (for Mom and Amanda, not me and Mike), we decided to get back to the apartment and Amanda would order some pizzas and coke.

“Hey, Steph, wanna come with me?” She asked me when I was about to get out of the car.

“Yeah, why not…” I got out of the back seat to sit in the front.

“Amanda, here take a twenty,” Mom pulled a $20 note out of her purse.

“No, Mom, I got it,” Amanda waved it off.

“Take it…” Mom shoved it in her hand.

“Okay… If you insist,” Amanda put it in her pocket, “Alright, beats on?” she checked.

When we were five minutes away from her apartment, Amanda asked me a question that I would have never seen coming.

“Hey, don’t be offended if I ask you this,” Amanda took a breath, “I just wanna disprove Guillem, my friend back in the H&M, that not all of his kind are that obvious to him.”

“Go on? Yes? His kind?” I was confused, but I knew very well what she meant by that.

“Well, gay people,” she clarified, “He asked me why I never mentioned to him that I have a gay brother.”

“What?!” My voice rose. But seriously, how the hell does he know that? He must’ve had damn good radar.

“I know. I was surprised too. I told him it’s not true,” she nodded, “But then I started thinking. I’ve met his kind many times at school, and I know them well. So, Steph, don’t be offended… Now it seems obvious to me, but I wasn’t sure before. But are you really?”

I was simply shocked I was that damn obvious. Unfortunely, my mind got tangled up over whether I should tell her or not, and it was my long silence that gave me away instead.

“Oh my god, are you really?!” Amanda nearly missed a stop sign as she looked at me. I nodded and blushed really hard.

“Oh jesus, I had a clue when you eye-raped Mike in the kitchen, but I accepted your excuse that you were looking out of the window,” Amanda giggled, “Oh, it’s ok… I don’t care.”

“Well, glad you don’t, but I’m still surprised I was that obvious to you guys but not Mom and Mike,” I looked out of the windshield, not looking at her. Amanda stopped at the stop lights.

“Don’t look at anyone else like you did to Mike then, it’ll just give you away,” Amanda looked at me, “But around New York gay guys, you’ll have a lot of trouble keeping off their radars. You cannot help it.” She leaned over to hug me.

“Thanks for the advice,” I kissed her cheek, “I didn’t think I needed to hide from you, but this is all new to me and it never occurred to me today to tell you.”

“It’s alright…” and she bit her lip.

“Spill it… now…” I ordered her.

“Is Ben…? Or maybe is it Julien?” She asked.

“Yes, they’re both gays too,” I noted.

“But Mom did say you spent a lot of time with Ben,” Amanda bit her lip again after saying that. I sighed, what the hell… My cover was already blown anyway.

“Yes, he’s my boyfriend. Happy now?” I told her finally.

“Of course… It’s so cuteee!!! My little brother is getting serious,” she gasped and grinned like Ben would have done in the same situation.

“Oh shut up and drive… You have a green light,” I told her. A car behind her blared its horn.

“Oh fuck off…” she fingered the irate driver in the rear view mirror.

This is nice, now I have to add my own sister to the list that I’ve came out to. I shouldn’t have been surprised, since she’s lived most of her life in New Jersey and it’s one of the most gay friendly areas you could find in the whole country. Yep, life is going great.

Once again, a special thanks to Sharon for the editing job!!!
Encore une fois un remerciement spécial � François pour le « betareading » et pour la correction des textes français !!!
And finally once more, many thanks to a certain goat with sunglasses, CJames!

Discussion topic on GA can be found here through the link below.

http://www.gayauthors.org/forums?showtopic=5530

unpetitpoissonbleu@yahoo.ca
E-mails and feedbacks are highly appreciated.

Copyright © 2007 by Jack Frost. All Rights Reserved. No parts of this story may be copied, reproduced, in print or in any other format, without express written consent from the author.

Copyright © 2011 Jack Frost; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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