The school year was about over now, and as usual the seniors were all going a little crazy and acting like they were in second grade again. This was sort of funny because some of the seniors looked older now, not really as much like kids as they had before. They looked more like college guys, yet they acted goofier than we did. We juniors sort of looked at them, some of us no doubt thinking about doing the same things next year ourselves, some of us thinking we would act a whole lot more mature than they were when we were preparing to graduate. I watched some of them, and the quieter ones, the ones not acting like little children, not playing pranks or cutting up, I noticed them often standing aside and watching the others and wearing peculiar expressions on their faces. Some of them looked a little wistful, a little reflective, and sometimes even a bit melancholy. Then a friend would come up, and they’d lose that look and become themselves again. I saw more than one kid doing that.
My dad asked me if I’d like to have a pool party with a few friends to celebrate the end of a very successful school year. I told him I’d think about it. And I did. I was no kind of a social animal, and I only had two close friends. But I was feeling pretty good about myself. Even I could recognize I’d come a long way this year.
A few days before the end of school I bounced the party idea off the guys at lunch. Of course, they all thought it was a great idea. Well, Kevin and Becky were very enthusiastic, which they were about most anything. Ask them if they wanted to go to the zoo on Saturday and spend the entire day watching the slow Loris climb up a ten foot long tree branch, they’d be having conniptions of anticipation. I myself would be thinking about what book to bring. Timothy, being Timothy, waited till he was sure he’d be invited if we had the party, then smiled his hesitant and distant smile and nodded in accompaniment to Kevin’s and Becky’s effusive encouragements.
Perhaps swayed by these guys, I decided to go ahead with it. Then it was a problem of whom to invite. I didn’t want a big bash. In the first place, I didn’t know enough kids well enough to invite them, and secondly, I was more comfortable with a small group than a large one. The four of us kicked it around. I asked Timothy if he wanted to bring anyone, and he just shook his head. When I asked Becky, she started to answer, then asked me who’d be on my list. I thought about it, and I decided that if this was to celebrate a successful school year, maybe I should invite the people who’d made it special, which meant, for me, Monica, Jason and Stephanie. And Brent, if he’d come. Those four, and the three guys at the table with me now, were the ones who’d made this a memorable year for me.
Becky asked if that meant all the kids who’d been at the swimming party would be there. I started to say I hadn’t even considered that when I realized what she was asking. And being very coy about it. Which was utterly unlike Becky and so very illuminating.
“Becky, you want me to invite Ryan, don’t you? You could just ask me to. You don’t have to beat around the bush. Kevin won’t tease you. Not too much.”
“I was just asking, that’s all. Just wondering how big the party would be.”
“Of course you were. Well, if you want Ryan there, you can ask him. I’d say everyone we invite can bring a friend. I don’t know how many will do that. If everyone did, we’d have sixteen kids. That sounds about right; I wouldn’t want it any bigger than that. I expect it’ll be smaller. Kevin, are you going to bring anyone?”
“Everyone I want there will already be there,” he said. And then he did something that really pleased me. He looked right at Becky, then right at Timothy, then right at me. I thought including Timothy in that gesture was really nice of him. I didn’t really know Timothy very well. He was excessively quiet. I didn’t think it was really shyness, not now, not with us, but he simply liked to watch, to be part of us, our partner at lunch, but a silent partner. I wondered a little if he’d been teased a lot, so much that he’d learned to keep a low profile. But it was clear to me that eating lunch with us was a matter of pride and satisfaction and comfort to him. He seemed much more at ease when he was sitting with us than he was when I spotted him in the halls, or saw him walking away from us after lunch each day. A wariness came over him then, and I felt for him. I recognized in him a little of how I’d been as a freshman when I saw that.
I’d watched him at lunch, as surreptitiously as possible. I’d seen him spend a lot of time looking at Kevin, and had seen the look in his eyes when he was doing so. When Kevin got engaged in conversation with either Becky or me, he became totally engaged, and never noticed Timothy staring at him. I’d remembered Becky’s remark to me that Timothy looked that way at me, too, and had wanted to see for myself if that was true. So, occasionally, when I was talking directly to either Kevin or Becky, I’d made it a point to quickly and briefly flick my eyes toward Timothy. And I’d caught him looking at me, the same rapt expression on his face that I’d seen when he was watching Kevin.
I’d discussed this a little with Kevin. To be totally honest, I had a bit of a concern about Timothy. I kept repelling Kevin’s advances, and there was Timothy, and though I really didn’t know, I could imagine him anxiously waiting for a chance with Kevin, if one ever materialized. So I wanted to know how Kevin felt about that, and the easiest way into the conversation was to ask him if he’d noticed the looks he got at the lunch table. He said he did, and I asked him how that made him feel, and he said he liked Timothy, though he didn’t know him well at all. That wasn’t a bit helpful to me, but pressing him on the issue would have made it apparent that I was jealous, and there was no way, no way at all, I was going to let Kevin know that. I’d never hear the end of it.
But, when we were discussing the party, and Kevin included Timothy in the people he wanted to be at the party, when he pinned him with his eyes and smiled at him, Timothy seemed to grow an inch in his seat. I thought that was a wonderful thing for Kevin to do, and at the moment didn’t even worry that it might mean something other than the obvious, other than that Kevin was showing the warmth he felt for all of us, and ‘us’ included Timothy.
◊ ◊
We ended up with a larger group than I’d thought we might have. It wasn’t the 16 I’d seen as the max, but was close. My three band co-conspirators all came. All of them brought dates. Ryan came after getting my invitation and I guess a special urging from Becky—she wouldn’t talk about it, but did do a pretty blush and then took a swing at him when Kevin made an especially crude remark. What really pleased me was when Brent showed up, coming with a date. He’d been surprised when I’d asked him, and said he’d try to be there if that was all right, but if I had to have an answer right then, he’d have to say no because he wasn’t sure what the senior party situation was going to be. I’d told him that was fine. Timothy and Kevin and I all were there without dates. So that made 13 kids. Five girls, eight boys. That was a little overbalanced on the male side, but to my mind, it was better than if it’d been the other way.
We had a good time. It wasn’t an over the top, highly exuberant celebration, but it wasn’t exactly sedate, either. Everyone was in high spirits. We all knew each other, but we weren’t really close, and that kept the revelry down a little. Dad and Mom were there, cooking and mingling, and that may have had a pacifying effect as well.
Everyone was there by five in the afternoon on the first Saturday after school was out for the summer. They’d all brought swimming suits and we played in the pool, getting to know each other better. Dad began cooking hot dogs and hamburgers around six, and the aromas got kids out of the pool. After eating, I announced that we clarinetists had continued to meet every couple weeks because we’d discovered how much fun it was playing quartets together when we’d been practicing for the Concertino. I told them that if they wanted, we could play something for them while they digested, if they thought they’d enjoy that. Everyone yelled yes, and I didn’t even bother to wonder if they were simply being polite. I wanted to play, so why question anyone’s motive? We went down to the entertainment room in the basement. The four of us had rehearsed a few more of the Fripperies and all our clarinets were waiting for us. We played four different ones for the group. We’d only planned on two, but they wouldn’t let us stop. I was glad we’d at least worked on four.
After that, one of the girls asked about dancing, and it was obvious all the girls wanted to do that. Kevin and Ryan started looking through the collection of CDs my dad had there just for dancing, and the girls helped.
The dancing took up most of the rest of the party. My mom made sure there were adequate refreshments available, and at one point between songs, my dad made an announcement, or a speech, or whatever you want to call it. He said he was glad everyone was here and having a good time, then said he wanted to publicly state how proud he was of me, and he mentioned the marching band and the spring concert, but then said it had been a successful year in many other ways, too. I was afraid he was going to go into personal stuff, but he didn’t. He said he hoped we’d all have a great summer, and as successful a senior year as the junior one had been for us underclassmen, and that the seniors who’d just graduated would go on to great successes in college or their other pursuits.
With more boys than girls on hand, there were always boys not dancing. I’m not much of a dancer, and except for one time when Becky grabbed me and hustled me out onto the floor, I didn’t do any of it. Kevin was busy selecting and playing the music. Timothy wasn’t dancing either. I noticed that and went over to talk with him. It was too noisy to do that easily, so I took him upstairs, and we went out onto the patio. It was a warm night and we were very comfortable in the chairs there.
We could hear the music coming up from the basement, but it was muted here.
“Enjoying yourself?” I asked him, when we were settled. I’d sort of been watching him. He’d been somewhat involved with the other kids, but his shyness had been obvious, too. He was the only freshman there other than Kevin, and Kevin had a presence about him, a personality that made him seem bigger and older than he was. Timothy very much seemed younger, and smaller, and with his retiring personality, it was easy for him to get lost in the crowd.
“Yes, I have been. Thanks for inviting me.”
“What are you doing this summer?” We’d talked about summer plans over lunch, but as usual, Timothy hadn’t said much of anything.
“I’ll be away most of it.”
I waited, but he didn’t say anything more. He’d looked at me when he’d said that, but then looked away, out toward the pool, as soon as he finished. Meeting your eyes was a problem he always seemed to have.
When he didn’t continue, I asked him, “Where you going?”
He sighed. “Dad’s sending me to Space Camp. It’s in Huntsville, Alabama.” He hesitated, but then plowed on, like he was forcing himself to talk against his natural inclination not to. “It’s a two week camp that simulates astronaut training and space flight activities and teaches you all about that stuff. I went last year too, and this is the more advanced program.”
He stopped.
“You don’t sound, well, all that excited about it, I guess,” I said, cautiously. I wasn’t sure what I was getting into here.
I guess he wasn’t either, because he didn’t respond.
“Tim, do you want to go?” I finally asked him, when the silence had become uncomfortable.
He looked at me briefly, then away. “Well, I guess so. I really like space, and astronomy, and I know a lot about the astronauts and their training. I’ll probably go into some aspect of that at college, and maybe as a career. I’ve been interested in it for a long time.”
“Then how come you sound, I don’t know, kind of flat when you talk about going to camp?”
He didn’t reply right away, and this time, I let the silence become uncomfortable without interrupting it.
“Matt, can I tell you something?” He sounded even more tentative than usual.
“Tim, we’re friends. You can tell me anything you want. That’s what friends are for.”
“Are we really friends?”
“Yes. We might even be better ones if you’d take the chance and open up more.”
That stopped him for a moment, and I thought maybe I’d insulted him or something, but then I saw he was just thinking about that.
“That’s hard. But I like you guys at lunch. You guys are the best part of my day. I can tell you accept me. You don’t mind me being with you. Sometimes, you’re even glad I’m there. I can tell.”
That sounded a little weird, and what I thought I was hearing was a call for support, so I tried to give him that. “I understand about it being hard to talk. It was hard for me, too. But if you pick the right people to talk to, it’s really great.” I didn’t respond to the rest of what he’d said. I wasn’t sure what he’d meant.
“I think you’re the right person, Matt. I think all you guys are really, really . . . .” He stopped, and I thought he might have blushed a little. Then he went on.
“It’s just difficult. See, my dad doesn’t like me much. He’s always been critical of me, complaining about everything I do. I think he wanted a different kind of son than the one he got. He’s a builder and got his start working construction summers while in high school. He didn’t go to college. He’s smart, and after working construction for a few years, he started his own company. So he’s really a businessman now and doesn’t put roofs on buildings any more. But he’s a big, strong guy, and he grew up with rough men around him. I’m not big and I don’t like rough, and he doesn’t understand that. He thinks I should be tough, be like he was, and he tried when I was little, all the way until last year, really, to toughen me up. All it did was hurt me, and I resisted him and that made him mad. Finally, he just stopped trying, but never has stopped letting me know what a disappointment I am. Everything I do, he’s sarcastic and demeaning. He gets up and walks out of a room if I walk in. I think he’s disgusted with me. All the time.
“He sent me off to camp last year, and he’s doing it again this year, but it’s not so I can do something I enjoy, it’s because he wants me away from him so he doesn’t have to see me or have me around. I’ll enjoy the camp. I just don’t like knowing that I’m only there because he doesn’t want me around him.”
“It’ll only be two weeks, you said.”
“Yeah, but then he’s sending me to spend the rest of the time at my grandparents’ house.”
I digested that. Then I asked, “What about your mom?”
“She’s kind of timid. She won’t fight him. She’s afraid of him, I think. She was in high school with him, and she didn’t go to college either, though she could have, she was smart enough. She had the grades, too. But they were together from about the tenth grade on, and they got married right out of high school, and she’s never worked, and I think she feels she has to stay with him because she has no other options. So she sort of pretends not to notice how he treats me. I’ve learned not to try to get her to defend me if he’s around. She won’t do it. She just leaves the room. I love her, and when we’re together without him around she’s great. But there’s no way she’d protect me from him.”
“Do you need her to? I mean, does he ever hurt you? Hit you or anything?”
He didn’t say anything for a moment. Then, “Yeah.”
“Timothy!”
“It wasn’t ever very often, and it’s been a while since the last time. I learned to see it coming and get out of his sight before he blew up. It’s more dangerous to be around him when he’s been drinking, but luckily, that doesn’t happen very often.”
“Do you have somewhere to go if you need to?”
“I used to have a friend; I could go there. He moved last year. But it’s been that long since Dad hit me. Maybe I’m old enough now that he won’t any more.”
I thought about that. “But it’s still something you’re afraid of, isn’t it? I mean, all the time.”
He didn’t answer that. He looked at me briefly, then turned away.
“You can come here if you need to, Tim. Anytime. Anytime at all. Just come. If it’s the middle of the night, don’t worry about waking any of us up. My parents won’t mind at all. Okay? Will you do that?”
I could see his eyes appeared a little wet. He said, “I thought you were like this, Matt. I thought you were. Thanks. You know, I’ve been watching you with your dad and mom tonight. The way you interact. You love them, and they love you, and you can see it. The way you guys are when you’re together, well, you don’t know how lucky you are. It blows me away, watching you all.”
“Yeah, I do know. But about coming here if you need to. Tell me you will.”
“Okay. I will. I hope I don’t need to, but, well, thanks.”
I looked at him hard then. “You will come. Promise me.”
“I will.”
“And any time you want to talk about anything, I’m here, Tim. There’re times we all need someone to talk to.”
He was quiet then, and now I finally understood a little better why. If you were used to being criticized for every word you spoke, you didn’t speak much.
But he did say one more word. It was after a long pause, but then he said it. He again said, “Thanks.”
Eventually, we went back downstairs. It was only about 10 PM, but the dancing was coming to an end, and kids were deciding it was about time to leave. Becky and Ryan left together. I hadn’t talked to her much tonight. She’d been with him, and him with her, almost the entire evening. I wasn’t worried I was losing a friend, however. We were close, and Ryan wouldn’t change that. He might take up some of her time, and a lot of her thoughts, but she’d still be my friend, my confidant, my buddy. Someone I trusted more than almost anyone.
I saw Brent talking to my dad. They spoke for quite a while, and when they were done, my father hugged him. It wasn’t just a quick hug, either. He held him for a few seconds, and Brent’s eyes looked moist when they were done. Shortly thereafter, he collected his girlfriend. I met them at the door.
“I’m really glad you came, Brent. You looking forward to football at San Diego State this fall?”
“I really am. For some odd reason, Teri is going there too.” He tightened his arm around his girlfriend momentarily as he said that, and she smiled. “Thanks for inviting us, Matt. And good luck your senior year.”
After he’d gone, the rest of the kids left pretty steadily till only Timothy and Kevin were left.
We were all standing in the entryway where I’d said goodbye to everyone. I headed back into the living room, and the other two followed. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier, guys,” I said, slumping into a chair, “but you two want to stay the night? There’s food left, lots of cokes and stuff.”
Kevin looked more than pleased. His face lit up in a huge smile. Timothy looked, well, like Timothy: uncertain, a little worried, undecided.
“Yeah, let’s do it!” said Kevin.
“Maybe I should go,” said Timothy.
I started to reply, but Kevin beat me to it. “Tim, don’t go. We can have a blast. You got a hot date waiting? Huh? No, I can see you don’t. So why not stay? It’ll be fun.”
“But I don’t have anything. To sleep in I mean, or a toothbrush, or, anything.”
“Lighten up. We can all sleep together in the nude and share Matt’s toothbrush. We can go skinny-dipping first so no one’s awkward with the sleeping arrangements.”
“Kevin! Timothy, ignore him. He’s a horn dog most of the time. You get to know the real Kevin at all, you’ll learn you’ve been eating at the wrong table all year.”
Timothy turned his head, looking back and forth from a grinning Kevin to a slightly miffed-looking me, then got a very fragile grin on his face. “No,” he said, “I don’t think I did that at all. It’s the absolute right table for me.”
“See, Matt! You’re the only wuss here. Tim and I’ll swim and sleep au natural, and you can wish you were as brave, as open and proud of your body as we are. We real guys have nothing to be ashamed of.”
“I didn’t say I’d do that!” blurted out Timothy, suddenly more uneasy, perhaps only now realizing how uncertain he was about how much of Kevin’s outburst had been in jest. I could understand his caution. I wasn’t sure with Kevin much of the time either. Like right now, in fact.
“But you will stay?” I asked, pleased that he might do that.
“You really want me to?”
“Yes, we both do.”
“Well, then, I guess. I mean, I really would like to do that.”
“Do you have to call your parents to ask?”
“No. I suppose I’d better call my mom to let her know where I’ll be. But I don’t need permission.”
Kevin got an odd look on his face, but then went back to smiling, probably thinking of the opportunities he anticipated for the night lying ahead. He and I had never spent a night together before.
◊ ◊
I told Mom and Dad that Kevin and Timothy were staying that night. They were busy cleaning up after the party. They didn’t have any problem with the guys staying over. I hadn’t expected they would.
“Uh, guys?”
My dad was collecting coke cans and my mom was picking up plates and eating utensils. They both looked up.
“Uh, well, I’m not sure how to say this.” I was hesitant and it showed.
My dad looked puzzled. “Say what?”
I figured I should just say it. “Well, when I was asking them to stay, Kevin made some remark to Timothy about skinny-dipping. I think he was kidding, but with Kevin I’m never sure. I just wanted to ask, if you hear us in the pool, that you, uh, well, don’t look. And for god’s sake, don’t turn the light on.”
I think I was blushing, but started helping Mom with the plates, and had to turn around to get some, so they couldn’t see my face.
Neither of them said anything, so eventually I turned around to see what was going on. When I did, they both had big grins on their faces, and Mom was trying not to laugh.
It was Dad who spoke. “Uh, sure, Matt. We hear a splash, we’ll go hide in our room. We don’t want to see what we’d see looking out the window, that’s for sure! Heavens to Betsy!”
At that my mom broke up, and I set down the plate I’d picked up and got out of there.
I got to the top of the stairs, and Kevin was there, listening. He had a grin on his face, too. “Way to go!” he said enthusiastically.
“I was just trying to cover your ass if you were serious, shithead,” I said, trying to sound mad. Actually, I found the idea of skinny-dipping kind of exciting. It wasn’t something I’d have even thought of myself, and if I had, I’d never have had the guts to do it, but now that it looked like something that could happen . . . .
We went back upstairs. Timothy was looking at my CDs. Kevin jumped on the bed where he always was when he was in my room. I walked over and sat on the floor next to Timothy.
“Tim, I sort of, well, I cleared it with my parents. If you’re interested, like I kinda am, well, we actually could go skinny-dipping. It’s dark out, and with the lights out, no one could see anything. I think Kevin wants to do it.”
“Yeah, it’d be fun. You ever been skinny-dipping, Tim?” That was Kevin.
“No. We don’t have a pool, and besides . . . .” He drifted off, and I had an idea why. I could imagine him skinny-dipping in his pool, all alone, and his father catching him at it. I could imagine him imagining that, too.
“Well, I do. I go skinny-dipping a lot at night. It feels great. But it’s even more fun with someone else.”
I raised my head at that. “Who’ve you been skinny-dipping with?”
“Well, truthfully, no one. But I know it’s got to be more fun with three of us than all by myself. Let’s do it.”
He was sounding really eager. I grinned at him, then turned back to Timothy. Looking at his face, I could see he was interested.
“Uh, guys, I think I’d be embarrassed. No one’s ever seen me naked.”
“That’s part of the fun, someone else seeing you, you seeing them. Come on. You’ll regret it if you don’t.”
“Have, uh, you two seen each other?”
Kevin spoke before I could. “Yes. Matt wouldn’t let me see him when I first asked, but we’re in gym together, as you know. I finally stopped being a wuss and started showering, and he does too, so we’re real used to seeing each other now.”
That was one way to put it. The real story was a little different . . . .
◊ ◊
After that first time, the time he showed up unexpectedly in the shower while I was shampooing, the time I’d had to leave precipitously to avoid that mortifying embarrassment boys worry about, I’d been at least prepared to see him there again. And I had, because he’d made it a habit after that to always shower.
I’d had to come to grips with that.
Some of the boys were very modest and wore bathing suits when showering. They were teased a bit for that, but evidently preferred those remarks than the more personal ones regarding their equipment they thought they’d get if they didn’t wear their suits. They should have known better because there never were any remarks of that sort, personally demeaning remarks about anyone’s appearance. My dad made it known in his introductory talk to all gym classes every year that there would be absolutely none of that, and anyone who broke that rule would be expelled from gym. That wasn’t a minor punishment, as gym attendance was a requirement for graduation. Anyone expelled from gym for cause would have to transfer to a different school to get a high school diploma. He’d had to enforce that twice during the time he’d been there, and he’d been supported by the school district. So, there were no remarks.
But I wasn’t one of the modest boys. I’d specifically, in my mind at least, gone into the showers naked to prove a point. It wouldn’t have made any kind of a statement at all if I’d gone into the showers wearing a bathing suit. Kevin had likewise had a point to prove, at least to himself and to me. So he’d come into the land of the free and home of the brave sans accoutrement as well.
My problem was, just looking at him caused a strong reaction in me, one you’re not supposed to have. I didn’t know if he had the same reaction, that first time, looking at everyone that was hanging out in there, or just looking at me; I hadn’t stuck around long enough to find out. I was there long enough to feel that precursive tingle, and long enough to see him start to plump a little. Then I was gone. He’d stayed.
Now that wasn’t too surprising, knowing Kevin. He had a devil-may-care attitude, and he didn’t mind attention at all, so I thought it just possible that if he became a bit chubby in the showers, he might actually enjoy it. I’d probably die of either mortification or terminal blushing if that happened to me. He might just smile a little harder, a little more proudly.
So I had had to figure out how to handle the situation of him coming into the shower every day. And I had to do it quickly, before the next day when we’d shower again. I simply couldn’t go into the showers, let him come in with me, and then let nature take its course. I knew full well what that course would be, and that I’d be unable to handle the teasing that would ensue. Dad’s dictates were great if one or two guys got obstreperous. If an entire locker room got that way, he couldn’t get them all expelled. I’d be fair game and dead meat.
I’d thought about it, feeling the pressure, wondering what to do. I had study hall after gym and spent the whole period doing nothing but think. I had to come up with something. I supposed I could appeal to Kevin, but I don’t think he’d have thought it was anything but funny, and he wanted to be naked with me. He might eventually come to his senses, but it would probably be too late, and apologizing after the fact wouldn’t help me a whole lot.
So I’d thought about it, and surprised myself by coming up with a solution, if I could make it work.
That night at home, I talked to my dad. I didn’t want to explain the problem to him, it was too personal and too embarrassing. I didn’t think I needed to, anyway, and it turned out I didn’t. The next day at school, I went to see my study hall monitor before school, and I was all set.
After gym that day, Kevin almost ran to his locker to undress. I went to mine, then just sat there, waiting for him. Very quickly he walked back, naked and carrying a towel, not covering himself with it at all. When he got to my locker, he stopped.
“What are you doing, just sitting here, still dressed? You’re showering, aren’t you?”
“Of course.” I was a little distracted, of course. He was standing in front of me and I was just sitting there. With us arranged like that, a part of him that I’d been curious about was right in my line of sight, and maybe a foot away. It was a good thing I was sitting down, and still in my gym attire. I hurried to continue answering his question, trying not to show any reaction to him. “Of course,” I repeated. “I’m not going around school all day reeking like a water buffalo, or a freshman.”
He looked a little puzzled. “Well, come on, then. Get undressed.”
“In a bit. I’ve got something to do first.”
“Well, hurry up. We don’t have that much time. I’ll wait for you.”
“Oh, don’t bother. Why don’t you just go shower? I’ll be in later.”
“Uh, okay, I guess,” he replied, clearly confused. He looked at me again, just sitting there, then turned and walked to the showers.
I went into my dad’s office. Every day, he had to transfer the attendance data he took before each class from his attendance sheet to his computer, then forward that record to the school’s attendance monitor. He usually did this in his free period, and it took most of the period to do so. I’d told him the night before that I’d heard him griping about this off and on, and had asked if he’d like me to do this chore for him every day. I’d told him I had a study hall after gym and I usually got pretty bored in there because the teacher wouldn’t let us talk or work together; I’d mentioned how I didn’t do much homework there because I preferred doing it at home where I could both use my computer and work with Kevin when he would come over. I’d told Dad that by my doing his attendance records every day it would be a win-win situation for both of us; I could escape some of the boredom of study hall; he could have some actual free time during his free period. All he had to do was give me a late pass each day for my study hall. The monitor I’d talked to had said this was fine as long as I brought her a note each day.
He’d looked at me when I’d talked to him about this, smelling a rat, but not seeing what it was, and liking the idea of having that busy work done for him each day. So he’d agreed.
When Kevin left for the showers, I went into Dad’s office and fired up his computer and transferred the records. It only took me about ten minutes. Which was perfect. When I walked back into the locker room, there was only a minute left till the bell rang. I poked my head into the shower room and saw a really cute blond boy still there, naked, wet, and looking prunish. Well, most of him.
“Hey, you’d better run. You’re going to be late as it is.”
“Where were you?” He sounded mad.
“I told you, I had something to do. In fact, I will every day.” I smiled at him.
He looked at me, then said, “You bastard.”
I laughed, and he gave me an evil look as he left the showers. He hadn’t reached his locker yet when the bell rang. He now had five minutes to get to his next class. I leisurely took off my clothes as everyone else was scurrying out of the locker room, and Kevin was tugging on his clothes frantically, still wet in places. I wasn’t sure, but I thought I could hear mumbling coming from that end of the locker room. It sounded something like, ‘fucker, fucker, fucker.’
◊ ◊
I was worried that Timothy, hearing that Kevin and I were naked together all the time, would get the wrong idea, and it might make him even more reluctant to be naked with us if he thought he’d be the only one embarrassed. So I set him straight.
“Tim, you have to get used to Kevin. He tends to exaggerate. We did see each other once, briefly, in the school showers. It was no big deal. You can see how eager he is. He wants to do it again, and he wouldn’t be so eager if this was a regular thing for us. So if you’re feeling a little excited by the prospect of doing this, he is too. So am I. That excitement is part of the fun, and we’ll all be feeling it. But I don’t want you to be pressured. It’s entirely up to you.”
“Yeah,” broke in Kevin. “So let’s do it. Okay?”
I rolled my eyes at him.
Timothy looked at me, then back at Kevin, then back at me. He was 14. I couldn’t imagine him saying no.
And after a lengthy pause, he didn’t.