The Saturday Boy - 7. It's You

I watched on as Jack took his trousers off, his legs in the same condition as the rest of him. His shins were cut in places, from what I imagined were the impact marks from his father's boot, fist or belt.

"You know, Maddy said to me she was afraid your Dad had started again, but it's never really stopped, has it, Jack? It's just up until recently, he's avoided your face," I remarked, going from bruise to bruise on his legs with my eyes. He quickly pulled on the sweat-pants I gave him, eager to hide himself from my shocked expression.

"He's my Dad. I respect him. He works hard to keep a roof over our heads and…."

"He's a fucking monster Jack," I said, cutting over him, my voice angry.

"Shut up, Joey, it's not like that!"

"Oh, it looks pretty clear to me what it's like."

"Look, you asked me here to help out while you're ill, so let me help out."

"Fine, Jack, go see my Dad. He’ll tell you what to do, and while you're doing it, think about why you put up with this."

Jack huffed and left my room without saying another word. I was so angry with him, and I felt terrible for feeling like that because he hadn't done anything wrong after all. He was the victim in all this, but he was a fucking stupid victim for letting his father do what he did.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

A couple of hours had passed, and I was watching TV when Jack appeared in my doorway again.

"I'm all done for today; I think I did everything I needed to," he said, looking at me wrapped up like a mummy in bed.

"Nice one, Jack, thank you."

"How are you feeling?"

"I probably feel as bad as you look, but I'll get better. The question is, will you?"

He came into my room and shut the door. I shifted myself, so I was sitting up, ready to listen to him, knowing he had something to say.

"You don't understand, Joey."

"Then help me. Tell me how you can possibly think that what you're Dad does is okay."

"Because every hit I take is one less my Mum has to, that's why." He replied, his voice solemn. My jaw dropped open, and I don't know why because I shouldn't have been surprised. After all, people like Jack's father don't discriminate with who they hit.

"I'm gonna have my Dad bar him. He’ll no longer be welcome in this pub."

"NO! You can’t."

"Why not? Tell me why I shouldn't do that?"

"Because if you do, it will make things worse," he retorted. I sighed, he was right, but I had to do something.

There was a knock on my door, and my Mum walked in. "Joey honey, Dean is here, but I really don't think you should be having visitors in your condition, though." I looked over at Jack, watching as the colour drained from his face, no doubt starting to look like me.

"Send him up, Mum; he probably just wants to see how I am."

"Uh, I think I should go," Jack said, starting to gather his uniform up.

"No, stay!" I said, quickly

"Joey, it’s Dean Grissom… Unfortunately, I'm not his favourite person, nor is he mine."

"I want you to stay, just trust me." Jack put his uniform back on the chair and rolled his eyes at me. Getting Dean and Jack together was either gonna go really badly or, as I was hoping, be a good thing. My Mum left, and moments later, Dean walked into my room before stopping dead in his tracks.

"Oh, sorry, I didn't know you had company," Dean said, glaring at Jack.

"It’s fine; I was just leaving," Jack remarked, again starting to gather his things.

"No, you weren't; I asked you to stay."

"Uh, Joey, I'll come by tomorrow, okay," Dean stated, starting to leave.

"For fuck sake, both of you stay," I demanded before having a coughing fit. Dean moved over to my bed and started patting me on the back.

"You okay?" he asked, sitting down on my bed.

"Yeah, just give me a sec." I got myself together and cleared my throat, wincing as the action stung it. Dean turned his attention to Jack, who was just staring at us. He looked uncomfortable, but I had a feeling if I left it long enough, Dean would do the right thing. I was just about to find out if that was true.

"How's your eye," Dean asked him softly.

"It's getting better," Jack replied, looking away from him.

"I um…I wanted to, um…I wanted to apologise, you know, for being an asshole to you."

"Did you put him up to this," Jack asked, looking at me.

"No, he didn't. I put myself up to it. Let's just say Joey made me realise a few things."

"It's true, Jack," I said, nodding. "He apologising is nothing to do with me."

"Why now…why after everything you have said about me, why apologise now? You hate my guts."

"I…uh…I weren't of…oh fuck this… look some shit went on in my life two years ago. It was my Uncle…he did things to me, things that a Uncle really should not have done. I'll leave the rest to your imagination. Anyway, after it happened, I just had this thing, a thing about…your kind." Dean blurted out. I almost threw up after his outburst. I didn't think for one moment he was just going to sail that close to a confession. My eyes were wide, waiting for what would happen now.

Please don't ask what happened, Jack, I thought.

"My kind, you mean gay people?"

Phew!

"Yeah, gay people."

"I don't know what to say. I’m sorry you went through that."

"Yeah, so am I."

"So…so is that why you hate me?"

"I guess I just didn't understand you, like why you fancy guys and all that. I just thought all gay people were the same… oh, I don't fucking know. It’s all tough to explain. All I can do is say I'm sorry and hope you believe that."

"You look sincere enough," Jack said, looking at Dean for any signs of deception.

"I know I can't take back all the horrible things I said and the misery I put you through, but I mean it when I say I'm sorry."

I had never seen Dean like this before. It was like I was listening to a different person. The words coming out of his mouth could have easily come from Shaun, but Dean? No way!

I think Jack had done an excellent job staying calm because he could have just told Dean to fuck off. However, having heard Dean reveal his ordeal to him made me think that Jack had no choice but to be cool with him. I just hoped that they both understood each other a little better.

After a moment of the two of them staring at each other, Jack held out his hand.

"I guess we'll never be best friends, but thank you for apologising, and I'm sorry about what your Uncle did to you, but trust me, gay people are a million miles away from the person your Uncle is." Dean took Jack's hand in his, and they shook. I saw Jack smile at Dean and hoped it had brought a smile to Dean's face as well.

"So um, I really ought to go now. I wanna check my Mum is okay." Jack remarked, gathering his stuff. "I'll get these clothes back to you on Saturday, Joey."

"Okay mate, no rush. Thanks for coming down at short notice. Did my Dad give you some money?"

"Yeah, thanks, and no problem about coming down. Like I said, I needed to get out of there. I'll see you later." We both watched as Jack left my room. I think Dean even muttered a goodbye as he left. I waited until I could hear no more footsteps on the stairs before I spoke.

"You did a nice thing there, thanks. It must have been hard for you to say those things," I said to him - those things, meaning the rape topic.

"I had to tell him something. It probably looked weird to him that I would suddenly apologise out of the blue."

"Maybe, but you could have probably got away with it without revealing James. I think you were brave to do it."

"I admit it; maybe I was wrong about him, okay. Up close, he seems like a decent guy."

"He's a good person, Dean, and he's dealing with a lot of shit right now."

"Yeah, I got that from him… his Dad, right?"

"The guy is a fucking asshole. He needs a good kicking, and yeah, I know two wrongs don't make a right, but when he was undressing today…."

"Sorry… undressing, what the fuck Joey?"

"He arrived in his uniform Dean. I gave him some clothes to work in, jeez, calm down. Anyway, as I was saying, when he undressed, he had bruises all over his body, which tells me this must frequently be happening."

"Okay, Dr CSI, how do you know that?"

"It's not rocket science Dean; you ever had a bruise?"

"Yeah, I get them all the time playing football. Why?"

"How long does it take to fade away?"

"I dunno, two, maybe three weeks?"

"Well, his whole body is covered in them, some fresh, some fading, which tells me he must be being beaten on at least once every one to two weeks."

Dean grinned at me. "It’s scaring me that you looked at him long enough to know this shit."

"Dean, be serious. I’m worried about him."

"Well, what are we supposed to do about it? It’s none of our business, and besides, if it was such a big issue, he could have told someone at school."

"That's just it, Dean, he won't because he thinks nothing is wrong."

"Well, there you are then."

"No, Dean, you don't understand…."

"Joey, you gotta leave this alone, don't get involved," Dean said, cutting me off.

"I won't do it, Dean; I won't stand by and let this happen. So what if it was Shaun? Would you let it happen to him?"

"Fuck no, I'd drag Shaun's Dad out by his ears and pummel him. But Joey, that's different, it’s Shaun, we've both known him forever. Jack…we don't know Jack like that, and I'll repeat, it's none of our business. Jesus, I don't even know why I'm saying us, I'm nothing to do with this whole drama."

I sighed. "Maybe you're right. Maybe I am getting too involved in this. After all, if he thought he needed help, he would go to someone, right?"

"Exactly."

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

I woke up about ten in the evening. Dean had long since gone, and I laid there thinking about the events of the day, in particular the conversation that Dean and I had had. I wanted to help Jack, but Dean was right; it was nothing to do with me. If Jack needed help that badly, he would talk to someone. I just had to leave it alone as Dean had worded it. That was until my cell phone started buzzing around on my bedside table.

I looked at the screen seeing Jack's name, and immediately answered it.

"Hey Jack, you okay?"

"I…I'm outside the pub, c-c-can I come up?" he asked, sobbing.

"Jack, what's happened?…uh yeah, sure, just come straight up. Actually, wait, I'll come down and bring you in through the emergency exit. Go to the beer garden and wait for me."

"Thanks, I'm sorry," he added before hanging up. I wasted no time and threw on some clothes before covering them in a large overcoat. I rushed downstairs, my body still aching, and nearly knocked my Dad flying as he was coming up the stairs.

"Why are you out of bed Joey, if you're out of bed, you must be okay for school."

"Dad, I am still ill, I promise you, but Jack is downstairs in the garden, and he is in a bit of a state."

"Drunk?"

"No, Dad, not drunk, like crying, that kind of state," I retorted.

"Well, what's up with him? You can't just have your friends turn up at ten at night, not to mention you are supposed to be in bed ill."

"Dad, please, just let me get him in here, and I'll explain everything."

"Well, I hope you do; this is a bit much Joey, no visitors, your mother said until you were well again. I need change for the register, I'll come back and see you later, and this better be good, Joey."

"Thanks, Dad, and please, just don't be mad at me until you hear what's been going on."

"Fine, just make sure you shut that emergency door when you come back in." He said before passing me.

I found Jack sitting on a bench in the garden and gestured him to come over. I was half expecting to find another bruise on his face, but as he came into the light, I was pleased to say there wasn't.

"Follow me. We’ll need to go through the kitchen, don't worry, it's empty; food stops at nine on weekdays."

"Thanks, shit, I'm really sorry for coming here. I just didn't know what else to do."

"It’s fine, but I do owe my Dad an explanation, so I might have to step out and give it to him when he summons me."

"Fuck Joey, I've got you in trouble? I should just go."

"Where? And no, you haven't.

"Maddy, I can go to Maddy's. I should never have come here…it's just you were closer and…."

"Jack, just calm down. We’ll talk when we get to my room."

God, I fucking felt like shit, and my brain was working overtime. I was also sweating like a pig; it was quite unnatural. I led him upstairs to my room and pushed him through the doorway before closing the door.

"Sit, tell me what's happened," I said as I got back in bed, chucking my coat on the floor. He sat in my computer chair and struggled to compose himself. I was patient and waited until he felt ready to speak.

"My Mum has gone to my aunt's; I dunno if she's coming back."

"Okay, start at the beginning, Jack."

"Would you mind opening the window please, I feel like I'm gonna pass out?"

"Yeah, sure, sorry, it's just I have felt cold lately." I got up and opened it as requested. Thankfully I didn't feel the air was like a thousand knives on my skin anymore, so maybe I was on the mend. I certainly didn't feel like it right now, though.

"I dunno where to begin, he slapped her, and she ran upstairs and packed some stuff. I ran into the garden, so I didn't have to see it. Normally I would get between him and her, but she fought back this time. I think she's had enough. When I was in the garden, he came running out and said he would kill me if she left, like it's my fault. Maybe it is, maybe the way he is is because of the way I am."

"Jack, how long has this been going on?"

"He stopped, you know? They went on holiday to some spa place about a year ago, Turkey, I think it was. When they came back, it was like he was my old Dad again; he was calm and nice. He even talked about taking me fishing, you know, so that we could spend some quality time together. I hate fishing, but I was pleased to go cos it was like him saying he loved me or something, that he wasn't ashamed of me."

"So what's happened for him to start again?" I asked, feeling like I was making progress here. It suddenly occurred to me, sitting listening to him, that I hardly knew anything about him. But why should I? We weren't long-time friends; he was just someone who worked at my parent's pub, just the Saturday boy. But there was something strangely compelling about him. He had this kind of aura about him, big bright blue eyes that drew you in, his whole body language just screaming at you, saying… care for me!

And I did!

"He's always been a drinker, he's a dock worker, and they're all drinkers. He works hard and has always provided for us. Me, of course, I've never been someone he can take around shouting…hey, this is my son, I'm proud of him. He just gets angry, and I know it's the drink, so does my mother, but they have been married for so long I think she just got used to his temper."

"But why did he stop and then start been an asshole again? You haven't said."

"I'm sorry, I don't know, I'm trying to think, it's just when I think all this other stuff comes out of my mouth and…."

"Don't worry, it's not important," I said, not wanting to stress him out anymore.

"It's my Mum, I feel for. She really loves him, the person away from the drink, but I think she will have to leave him. I think she realises that as well."

"What will happen to you if she does?"

"Nothing, I guess. I can't stay at my aunt's there isn't the room. I'll be okay with him; I just need to make sure I stay out of his way."

"What a life," I mumbled. I don't think he heard. "Do you want to stay here tonight? I'll need to ask, but I don't think it will be a problem."

"I can't Joey, I don't have my uniform here, and my books are at home as well, but thanks."

"Well, the offer is there; you can always get up early and get your books before school."

"Can I just stay for a bit and see how I feel."

"Sure, Jack, as long as you're safe, do what you need to do."

"Thanks, Joey."

We sat in silence for a few minutes, it didn't feel awkward to me, but I spoke anyway, mainly because I had more questions for him. I hoped that he would be as open now as he had been moments ago. Unfortunately, some of the questions I thought about asking were of no benefit to him or his issues, they were more to do with my curiosity, and I felt oddly guilty about that.

"I think you're a really strong person Jack," I stated as a way into my next question.

"Strong?"

"Yeah, not like lifting stuff strong, well you're that as well. What I mean is, you're a…uh what's the word…uh, resilient. I mean all the shit you deal with at school, and then when you get home, you have it all again. So I mean, If you do have crap at school, a home should be a sanctuary, and instead…."

"You get used to it, Joey," he said, intervening. "As sad as it sounds, it's not that hard to do… getting used to something like that, I mean. It's like it becomes just a normal part of life."

"You hear about these young people, like our age who just give up and…well, It doesn’t matter. I admire you, Jack. Like I say, you're a strong person." He just shrugged at my statement.

"The only time I ever feel sorry for myself is when people say I'm not normal, people like Dean. I feel like saying to these people. I can't help the way I was born; I can't help who I like, what I like. I just don't know why people have to be so cruel. Some people stare at me like I have some plague or something."

"When did you know?" I asked, hoping he knew what I meant.

"That I was different?"

"Gay."

"Gay, right. Hmm, well, I think I've always known. If you're asking when I first became aware of it, well, I guess that started in the changing rooms at school."

"Looking at other guys, you mean."

"I suppose. But I always liked looking at the more developed guys."

"Sorry, what do you mean?"

Jack sniffed before letting out a light chuckle. "You'll think it's silly."

"Jack, I've had plenty of time to judge you, don't you think I would have by now."

"I guess. Well, I remember a phase I went through when I was around fourteen. When the classes from year eleven had sports, I used to pretend I left something in the changing room so that I could go and look at all the older lads getting undressed. I always had this thing about hairy legs. The hairier they were, the more attracted I was to them because they were mature, dominant…I liked dominant mature males."

"Yep, definitely gay," I said, smirking. Jack grinned too; I think relieved that I didn't call him a weirdo or something along those lines.

"I remember a guy called Tom Day. He was like the alpha male of the whole year eleven. He looked about twenty when he was sixteen. Tall, well built, dark hair and really meaty hairy legs that I just wanted to…."

"YES! I get the picture Jack, thank you."

"Sorry, guess I got carried away."

"I don't mind, but you were starting almost to dribble then," I said laughing, and then, of course, coughing.

"So what about you, what sort of girls do you like?" he asked, the question totally throwing off.

I coughed and cleared my throat. "Uh, well, I don't really have a type. If I like someone, I like someone, that's it for me, really. There was a girl I liked called Stacy Burns. You know her probably; she is in Mrs Sykes class."

"Uh…"

"Well, anyway, Shaun and Dean used to tell me she was ugly, but I liked her, and it was more because she made me laugh. She was fun to be around, and she could hold a conversation. The nice thing was that she never tried to get in my pants, and I never tried to get in her knickers. We just sort of gelled and...well, liked each other, I guess. We talked about having sex, and I was really up for it. Hell, we had even planned when we were gonna do it and where. We wanted to make it special, you know, for our first time."

"What happened?"

"Dean fucked her!" I said, slightly angry, remembering.

"Really, and you're still friends with him, Jesus. What does that guy have to do for you to realise he…God, never mind, you obviously see something in him."

"A fitting question I could ask you, Jack."

"Yeah, whatever! Anyway, I thought you said Dean said she was ugly."

"Yeah, he did. He just fucked her so he could say he had her before me. That's what Dean can be like sometimes. He knew I liked her, and he bet me he could fuck her before me. I was stupid enough to accept the bet because I was certain I could win it."

"So, has there been anyone else?"

"Nope! To be honest, Jack, I'm always stuck here, normally working. So I don't get time to go out like most people our age do."

"Yeah, I know what you mean, except I'm allowed out but have no one to go out with," he remarked, looking sad. I wondered what it was like to have hardly any friends and remain sane.

"You have Maddy, though."

Jack chuckled and looked thoughtful. "Yeah, Maddy is cool, but she is a control freak and far too overprotective of me. If she had her way, I would live in a glass box where no one could touch me."

"Yeah, I get that about her but look, Jack, having someone like her is really cool. Shaun is a bit like that, and Dean is too, so I sort of know how having a friend like that can feel."

"I like Shaun; he seems really nice."

"Yeah, I love Shaun. Out of the two of them, Shaun is the talker, whereas Dean is the doer."

"So Shaun uses his brain and talks his way out of trouble, and Dean just hits people."

I shrugged. "Pretty accurate."

"Joey is Shaun…"

"No, at least I don't think so."

"How did you know what I was gonna say?"

"Because I've asked myself the same question time and time again."

"There was a rumour that went around at school about him, Maddy told me. I couldn't believe it. I really hoped it was true, not because I fancied him or anything, although he is very handsome, but because it would have been nice to have someone else, you know, like me."

"I'm pretty certain there are others like you Jack, they just haven’t dared to come out and admit it as you have."

"Believe me, Joey, If I had the choice again, I would never have admitted it."

"So why did you?"

"I was drunk and got caught kissing a guy at a party I should never have been at. But, unfortunately, some people from school were there and saw it."

"Whoa, so what happened?"

"Pfft, it was stupid. I was fifteen and got in with this small crowd who did these party things almost every weekend. My Mum and Dad never really worried about me stopping out late, so I went when I started getting invited. There was this guy at the party who was a friend of a friend of a friend. You know the kind, the one where nobody actually knows who invited him."

"Yeah."

"Yeah, so anyway, I found out his name was Ryan Watts, and he was eighteen. So we got talking, and the more I drank, the more I talked. The conversation was easy with him, not just because of being wasted but also we both found out we shared the same birthday. Albeit there were three years between us, but we were born on the same day. So, we were both pretty drunk, and he was fooling around and started kissing me on the cheek like drunk guys do when they have had a few."

"And then?"

"And then it just happened, kissing my cheek became kissing my lips, and then that turned into a full-blown snog. I liked him, probably because he was older, mature and all that. Anyway, we were so caught up in our moment that I didn't notice three people from school watching us and sniggering. Within three days, I had half the school asking me if I was gay and why I was caught kissing a guy. Finally, it got to a point where I couldn't stand it anymore, so I just admitted it, hoping if I did, they would shut up about it and move on to someone else."

"And?"

"Well, the rest they say is history, and no, Joey, it hasn't got any better. People still verbally abuse me, tease me and say cruel things. But, as I said earlier, I can't help who I am, and I don't mean anyone any harm. I just want to be left alone."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. It’s my mess. We leave school in a few months, and I, for one, will not be going to the on-site sixth form."

"What will you do?"

"Get a job; it’s all I can do. I have poured everything into my Drama classes, but doing school plays does not make you an actor, plus you need money for that, something my parents don't have."

"You sound so much like me," I said, feeling a feeling of sorrow for both of us come over me.

"Life is shit Joey; you can't get away from it. My grandma always said, you come in with nothing, and you go out with nothing."

"She has a point," I said, agreeing.

"Had, Joey, she's dead.

"I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah, me too, she was a great lady, and I miss her."

"I'll bet."

Our conversation was interrupted by my Dad knocking on my door. "Is it okay to come in," he called through the closed door sheepishly.

"Yeah, Dad, why wouldn't it be?" I replied. The door slowly opened, and my Dad put his head around the frame, eyeing me, and then Jack.

"No reason, I just thought I had better ask." I looked at him confused, and then it dawned on me. He probably thought Jack would have his hands all over me, like in the cellar. Stupid man!

"Joey, can I speak with you in the lounge?"

"Sure, Dad."

"Would you like me to leave Mr Cork? I’m sorry I turned up so late, it's just I have problems at home, but I can go if you wish."

"No, Jack, it’s fine; I just need to talk to Joey for a minute," my Dad replied.

I pulled off the duvet from my legs and made my way to the lounge as my Dad had requested. He closed my bedroom door and followed me in. I had already taken a seat, and he joined me on the one opposite.

"Is Mum okay down there?"

"Yeah, we are just starting to lock up…look, joey, it's getting on for eleven. What is going on with Jack, and why is he here so late?"

"You know his Dad, right?"

"Dickie Stanton, yeah, he's a regular, you know him too, Joey, what about him?"

"I just wanted you to know who he really is."

"Sorry Joey, I don't follow, now will you just tell me what's going on, I need to get back downstairs, and I think it would be a good idea if Jack went home now, to his own house."

There was agitation starting to show in my Dad's tone, and I was also starting to feel frustration build as I felt like he was just trying to get rid of Jack and wasn't listening to me. Granted, he was probably tired, but I needed him to listen now.

I got up and left the lounge with my Dad calling after me.

"Just wait a sec, Dad," I called back. I went into my room and asked Jack if he would follow me into the lounge. I went and sat down in my original spot while Jack stood just inside the doorway.

"Take off your shirt," I said to Jack, with a look of horror immediately appearing on his face.

"Joey, what the hell is this," my Dad snapped.

"Jack, just do it, take off your shirt."

"But Joey, I don't think this…."

"Jack, please!" I pleaded with him.

Jack started to slowly unbutton his shirt as my Dad looked at me, wondering if I had lost my mind before turning back to look at Jack. I watched him out the corner of my eye, looking for the reaction I knew he would have once Jack got the garment off. My Dad's eyes slowly widened as I flicked my view back to Jack, who had almost removed the shirt.

"This is why he is here, Dad," I said - sorry that I even had to make Jack subject himself to this. My eyes stayed glued to my Dad's, and I watched as he slowly brought his hand up to his mouth. Yet to say anything to either of us, he just sat there speechless.

"Dad, the man responsible for that, and a lot more is the same Dickie Stanton that drinks in our pub. He's a bully and a drunk, but more than that, he beats Jack and his mother."

"Is…is this true, Jack?" My Dad asked, looking stunned. Jack stood frozen, not answering in any way, shape or form. The look alone was enough for my Dad to work out his own answer as he got up and went downstairs.

"Shit, this is bad," Jack said, shaking his head.

"It will be fine. Put your shirt back on."

"Fine, what do you mean fucking fine. I'm dead Joey, once my Dad finds out, I'm fucking dead, and you nor anyone else can protect me. I have to carry on living with my Dad, and when he finds out what your Dad knows, he's gonna…."

"Jack!" I snapped. "Your starting to freak out. Just calm down. You know as well as I do this cannot go on."

"I should never have come here tonight, I told myself; I should never have come here and look what's happened. I’m a fucking dead man walking."

"Will you shut up and calm down before I slap you. My Dad is going to handle this, okay?"

"No, it's not okay. What do you think he can do, bar him? I said that would make things ten times worse."

"Come and sit down. I’m sure he is thinking of a way to solve this."

"Solve what; there is nothing to solve; it’s not some fucking puzzle Joey, this is my life…about to end."

"Shh," I said, upon hearing footsteps coming back up. This time it was my Mum who came through to the lounge.

"Jack, honey, where is your mother?"

"Uh, she went to my aunt's; why?"

"Does she have a cell phone?"

"No, my Dad won't let her have one."

"Well, do you know your aunt’s phone number?"

"Yeah, why what is all this…."

"I want you to call your mother and tell her you will be staying with us tonight if she wishes to speak to me to confirm that I will be very happy to. I don't think it's a good idea you go home right now."

"But I can't, Mrs Cork, All my books and uniform is at home. What about school?"

"Andy is going to drive you home tomorrow and make sure you get your stuff, and then he will drive you to school."

"I don't think my Dad is gonna like me staying out all night, Mrs Cork."

"You just let Andy and I deal with your father. I'm sure it will all work out, but we need to speak to him first, and I think just for tonight at least, you should stay here."

"If you think that's best," Jack said, not looking entirely comfortable with the whole idea.

"I do. Now you will need to fetch the fold-up bed from the basement, and since you know your way around this place now, you should not have any trouble in finding it."

"I think I've seen it."

"Good, you can set it up in Joey's room, and Joey, leave your window open, so your germs don't fester in the room."

Hmm, a gay guy sleeping next to me in my room. Now I was the one who wasn't looking entirely comfortable, a look that Jack noticed straight away.

"Oh, uh, well, it’s okay, Mrs Cork, I can set the bed up in here."

"I was going to suggest that, but Andy and I will be getting up at five in the morning, and we don't want to wake you."

"It’s fine, Jack," I said, trying to reassure him that I wasn't filled with apprehension.

"Okay, so uh, I'll go and get that bed then. Thank you for looking out for me; I’m sure things will be okay with my Dad."

"They will be sweetheart, mark my words," my mother said, sounding almost sinister in her tone.

Jack left the room, leaving me to answer questions from my mother. I didn’t have the answers to most of her questions, and I don't know why she thought I would. She only got about six or so fired off at me until Jack returned the small compact bed in hand.

"I'll get you some spare bedding," she said as he stood there holding the primitive metal bed. "I'll strip it off Roman's bed for now; he’s not due home until Thursday…or is it Friday, hmm." My Mum left the room muttering to herself.

"Roman?" Jack remarked, raising a brow.

"My brother," I sighed. "The one that's not treated like a slave," I said, extra loud, hoping my mother might hear.

"You have a brother?" Jack asked, shocked.

"Yeah, people do have them, you know Jack," I replied, rolling my eyes at him.

"Where is he then? I haven't seen him."

I shrugged. "He's a drummer in a band. They are away touring around northern England in some pubs and stuff. I don't know."

Jack chuckled. "Sounds like you don't really care."

"I do care. It’s just his life is totally different from mine. He gets to do what he wants when he wants and never helps out here."

"Oh, so you're jealous, is that it?" Jack said, smirking.

"Oh, shut up."

"So, is he hot like you?"

"Gee Jack, let me think about that because I really look at my brother in that way."

"Well, is he?"

"You're unbelievable. You know that?"

"What?"

"Your father is beating you regularly. You turn up here in pieces, and as soon as I mention I have a brother, you act like it’s Christmas."

"Yeah, sorry, but hey, at least it took my mind off it. So how old is he?"

"Seventeen…and he's straight."

"Damn!"

"Well, at least as far as I know he is. Anyway, he'll be back around here over the weekend, so you can drool over him then. For now, though, I really would like to go back to bed before I collapse."

We walked to my room, and my Mum was already there with the bedclothes. "Okay, Jack, go and try your mother. You can use the phone in the lounge." He did so before returning moments later.

"No one is answering, but it is late, so they might be in bed."

"Hmm, well, try her in the morning first thing, okay?"

Jack nodded. "Yeah, I will."

"Okay, I'll leave you, boys, to it; I need to help your father lock up. I might as well say good night as well. You two should be getting some sleep.

"Thanks, Mrs Cork."

"Please, Jack, call me Sandra, and you're welcome. Now get some rest…you too, Joey!"

"Yeah, okay, Mum, goodnight."

"Goodnight, boys."

My Mum left my room, leaving me alone with Jack. I started to get undressed ready to get into bed finally; it felt like it had been a really long night, with Jack, then Dean, then Jack again tonight.

"Close your mouth, Jack, Jesus," I said as he gawped at me, taking my sweatpants off.

"What…oh sorry, I didn't realise I was staring."

"Yeah, I bet you didn't," I replied, smirking at him. "So, are you going to get those clothes off and get into bed or what?"

"Why wanna see what's underneath?" he teased.

"Quit it, Jack, and besides, I already know what's underneath, and it ain’t pretty."

"Hmm, guess you got me there."

He began to undress, again revealing his bruised body. He took a sudden intake of breath when removing his shirt.

"Are you okay?" I asked.

"Yeah…yeah, it's just a bit sore, that's all."

"Yeah, it looks it, just take it easy."

"I'm flattered that you care."

"Hey, I do care. You’re here, aren't you?"

"Yeah, I'm sorry I was just playing."

"Well, you have certainly brightened up, I'll say that."

"It's just nice to feel…I dunno, safe, I guess."

"You don't feel safe at home?"

"Would you?" he asked as if it was a stupid question. It probably was!

"I guess not," I replied, feeling rather stupid.

"Hey, wanna hear another issue I have?" He asked, turning on to his side to face me.

"If I must," I smirked.

"So, I met this guy, yeah…."

"Oh god!"

"Shut up and listen."

I rolled my eyes at him. "Okay, I'm listening."

"So I met this guy recently, and he's like really REALLY cute, absolutely gorgeous body, toned, you get the picture, right? Well, anyway before I met him, I didn't think he liked me, well, at least that's what I mostly assumed. So I was always watching him from a distance at school, loving the way he walked, his bubble butt tight in his trousers. Oh, and I loved the way he would lean against the lockers talking to his friends, stretching himself, exposing his tight stomach. It used to make me melt. But he hung around with this nutcase who absolutely hated me, so I never had the chance to sort of talk to him. Not that I had any intention of getting him into bed. After all, as far as I knew, he was straight. I just wanted to…well, get to know him. He seemed sensitive, funny and likeable. Anyway, eventually I did meet him, and up-close I struggled to keep my eyes off him whenever he was with me, and sure enough, he was everything I thought he would be when our paths eventually crossed. Then I met his parents, and they were cool too. Even though they had just met me, they looked after me as soon as they heard about my problems at home. So you see, Joey, I have a crush on this guy, but I didn't know how to let him know. In fact, I think it is more than that. I really want to start something with him, but I don't know how he feels. Anyway, that's my issue."

"That was quite…graphic, Jack, thanks. So, this is a guy at school, you say?" I asked, intrigued

"Yeah."

"Do I know him?"

"Yeah, very well, actually," He replied casually.

"Well, who the bloody hell is it then," I asked, sounding impatient.

He smiled as I met his gaze, his piercing blue eyes looking deep into my soul, and then ever so softly and thoughtfully he replied.

"It's you."

Oh crap!