When we got to our room from the kitchen scene with Sean, Justin was livid. "Brian, I hope you realize how close I came to killing that mother fucker," Jus said. "Calm down, Buddy. You're mad because he called me Little Miss Puppy Dog, aren't you?" "You're goddamn right I am, Brian. If that son of a bitch ever disrespects you again, he's going to get a beating that'll make him think what that guy in St. Augustine did was jerk him off. Aren't you mad? I am," he said. "I'm almost afraid to tell you what I really think," I said. "Brian, don't you dare ever be afraid of me," he said. "I'm not really afraid of you," I said. "What did you think of it? You probably thought it was funny, didn't you?" he said. "Yeah, I did," I said. He had calmed down by then. "I guess when you think about it, it is pretty clever," he said. "I mean, if Kyle or Rick had called you that, I would probably have laughed my ass off." "You don't like him, do you?" I said. "No, I really don't. And it bothers me, Little Buddy. I mean, I always like everybody, and I get along with everybody. But there's something about him that rubs me the wrong way," he said. "I don't know what it is, either." "By the way, I wanted to tell you that I was very proud of you down there. You didn't lose your temper with him. You sincerely wanted to help him, didn't you?" "Yeah, I did. I really do care about him. I don't know if you noticed, but when he said he didn't think I liked him or cared about him . . . " "I did notice it. You said something like 'I do. I do care about you. We all do.' Am I right?" He grinned. "That's exactly right. I never said I liked him. He didn't get it, though, do you think?" "Probably not," I said. "I'm so wired right now, I don't know if I'll ever get back to sleep." "I know," he said. "I'm the same way. That little prick. Why'd he have to do that? Ruined my beauty sleep. Do you think Little Miss Puppy Dog would like to lap up some dogwater?" "What are you talking about?" I asked. He chuckled. "Ole Buel Jackson up in Alabama used to call that pre-cum stuff 'dogwater,'" he said. "I don't know where he got that from, but that's what he called it." "Yeah, I could use a little taste of dogwater right now. How about you?" I asked. "Oh, absolutely. Come here to me, you little cutie," he said. What can I say? Sixty-nine is divine. * * * The next morning Sean wasn't at the breakfast table. "Where's Sean?" Murray asked. "He's going to stay out of school for a few days until his face heals up some," Rick said. "He has permission." "So, are we going to talk about this thing, or what?" Kyle asked. "What thing?" Kevin asked. "The Sean thing," Kyle said. He was deep into the grumble that morning. "What is there to say about it?" Rick asked. "I don't know, but I just feel like we need to discuss it or something," Kyle said. "I don't want to discuss it," Justin said. "By the way, Kyle, don't you have a birthday coming up pretty soon?" Justin changed the subject on purpose, and I knew what he was doing. "Yeah. Next month, on the thirteenth," he replied. "How old are you going to be, Kyle?" Murray asked. Without realizing it, Murray was playing into Justin's hand. "Nineteen," Kyle said. "What happens on your nineteenth birthday? Anything special?" Murray asked. "What do you mean?" Kyle asked. "Well, when you turn sixteen, you can get your license. When you turn eighteen you can vote and buy cigarettes and lottery tickets. When you turn twenty-one you can buy booze. Anything like that at nineteen?" Murray explained. "I don't think so. Same with seventeen and twenty. Those are just regular birthdays," Kyle said. "Do you want a party this year?" Kevin asked. "I don't know. It's on a Sunday," he said. "I had a big one last year, though, you know? And there was one for my graduation, too. With as many guys as there are in the house, people are going to start thinking we're just hitting them up for presents if we have a party for everybody every time." "He's got a point there," Rick said. "Maybe we should limit parties to just the big birthdays, like Murray was talking about. We had a party on Justin's nineteenth, but it was really a Fourth of July party. As I recall, we didn't even have a birthday cake for Justin." "Sean told us we missed his sixteenth birthday. It was earlier this month," Denny said. "I know. We figured that out last week," Kevin said. "It's kind of late to give him a party now, though." "How'd we miss it?" Justin asked. "Nobody knew. I mean, we had his birth certificate, but I guess neither Rick nor I had read it," Kevin said. "Is somebody going to see about getting him his license?" Tim asked. "I don't think that's a good idea," Justin said. "Why not?" Kevin asked. "I know he doesn't have a car, but there are plenty of cars around for him to drive if he needs one. He's dating, and his boyfriend doesn't have a car. Rick and I will have to discuss it." "Guys, I hate to leave, but I need to get to school early today. Is anybody else ready?" Tim asked. He looked around, grinning, knowing nobody else was. Murray and Denny were both still in their underwear. I always drove my own car because of my after-school job, so they could ride with me that morning. "I'm not," Murray said. "Go on and go in your skivvies. Show off that new figure to everybody," Justin said. "I think it's pretty damn hot." "I will if you will," Murray said. "No way," I said. "He wears clothes to school." "See you later," Tim said, and he kissed Kyle goodbye. Tim was back inside in less than a minute. "Kyle, did you use the Jeep last night?" Tim asked. "No. I was with you every minute last night, and half the time I was in you, too," Kyle said. "Don't you remember that?" "Must not have been all that much," Justin said. Kyle flicked him off. I figured they'd both get a reprimand for that for sure, but to my surprise, Kevin and Rick both just laughed. "Is there a problem with your car, Tim?" Rick asked. "I don't think so, but it isn't where I always park it. I just wondered if Kyle had used it, is all," Tim said. "Well, I've got to go. Bye, again." "Why would anybody use his car? Everybody who can drive has a car of their own," Kyle said. Denny and Murray finished up, and they went upstairs to get dressed. "Unless Sean used it," Justin said. "I know he knows how to drive, and Brian and I caught him sneaking back in last night around one o'clock. He said he walked to the Jiffy Store to buy a pack of cigarettes, when there was an almost-full pack of his brand on the counter in the kitchen. I wasn't going to tell y'all about that, but that's what happened." "I heard the dogs barking in the middle of the night, but it didn't even wake me up enough for me to check the time. I figured somebody was getting something to eat," Rick said. "Where would he have gotten the keys to the Jeep?" "Where do we keep the spare keys, Rick?" Justin asked. "I see your point," Rick said. "This is maybe a little more serious than just a car not being where it was parked." "He sneaks out. I've seen him," I said. "Why didn't you tell us this before, Brian? You didn't want to be a snitch, did you?" Rick asked. "I didn't think it was all that big a deal. Some guy drives up, Sean leaves the house and gets in the guy's car," I said. "Is it always the same car?" Kevin asked. "No. I don't think so. In fact, one time it was a Jeep and another time it was a pickup truck," I said. "The other times have been regular cars." "One time about a month ago I was real late coming in from a fraternity meeting, and I ran into him as we were both coming into the house," Kyle said. "I didn't think anything of it. I mean, I was out late, and I figured y'all knew where he was." "Yeah, but you're eighteen years old, Kyle, and you had told us you would probably be late. He was probably only fifteen when that happened. But I've never given him permission to be out late on a school night. Have you, Babe?" Kevin asked Rick. "No," Rick said. Denny and Murray were back downstairs, and it was time for us to leave. I had brought my backpack down with me, as I usually did. I would have liked to brush my teeth again, but there wasn't time. I told everybody goodbye and kissed Justin. We left for school.
The first thing I did when I got to the office was call Tyrone Williams and explain what I thought was going on with Sean. Tyrone was very sympathetic, of course, but he pointed out that Sean wasn't really part of the State of Florida's caseload. He didn't feel comfortable, for ethical reasons, recommending any counselor over another. "For example, Kevin, if I gave you Jane Symanski's name, I could be sued by other counselors for promoting her above all the other counselors in town," Tyrone said. "I see your point, Tyrone. I guess counseling is a business like any other, and the state can't be perceived as supporting one private practitioner over another one," I said. "Absolutely. Just because Jane Symanski is a lesbian, who has been in a long-term relationship for years, and just because she has a gay son that she and her partner raised, can't cloud my thinking. Kevin, I can only direct you to the Yellow Pages and wish you luck in finding somebody at random who might be able to save this kid," Tyrone said. "Do you sometimes get frustrated with the bureaucracy, Tyrone?" "Kevin, I'm so frustrated right now, I'm about to pull my right ear off," he said. "You know that playing with your ear is a masturbation substitute," I said. I was teasing him, but I had actually read that somewhere. "Not where I come from. There ain't no substitute," he said. We both laughed. "I'm going to call Jerry Taylor to ask him for a recommendation, too," I said. "I know Jerry Taylor from somewhere, but I don't know where," Tyrone said. "He's our parish priest and a good friend," I said. "Oh, Father Taylor. Yes, of course. Call him right away. I know him, and he's good. And I know he knows Dr. Symanski." "Tyrone, thank you for not recommending anyone, especially not Dr. Symanski," I said. "That's right. I didn't recommend her. I can't, Kevin. If this conversation is being recorded, I am on record as not recommending Dr. Jane Symanski to Mr. Kevin Foley," Tyrone said. "Or any other qualified clinical psychologists or psychiatrists." "Tyrone, you are too wonderful, man," I said. "My wife said the same thing last night," Tyrone said. He and I both laughed. "I didn't mean it exactly the same way she did," I said, still laughing. "I know, but I'm multi-faceted," he said. "I love you, man," I said, laughing. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I love you and Rick, too," he said, and we hung up. I looked up Dr. Symanski's number right away and called her office. I asked to speak with her, and, to my surprise, I was put right through. "Hi, Kevin," she said, like she knew me. To the best of my knowledge, I had never met this woman. I wondered what somebody with her qualifications was even doing in Emerald Beach instead of, say, New York City. "Hi. Do we know each other?" I asked. "No, but I certainly know who you are," she said. I was a little bit intimidated. How did she know who I was? I mean, I had met a bunch of doctors through Gene and Rita, and through George and Sonya, too, but I didn't think I had ever met this woman. "Doctor, I'm at a loss because I can't remember meeting you," I said. "Oh, we've never met. Do you know a Jeffrey Martin?" she asked. "Yeah. I know Jeff very well. He lived in my house for about a year. I consider him my brother," I said. "Well, that's how I know you and Rick. I read Jeff's blog. I know all about the foster home on North Lagoon Drive," she said. "And I think what you and Rick are doing is just short of heroic." I was weak. I didn't know what to say. "You do?" I asked. "Yes. The whole gay and lesbian community in Emerald Beach knows of you guys, and, I dare say, the whole community from New Orleans to Jacksonville, too. You're from New Orleans, aren't you?" she said. "Yeah, I am," I said. I was amazed at what I was hearing. I had no idea anybody actually read that crap that Jeff wrote every day, except us. I mean, why would they? "Is the new boy having adjustment issues? Sean, isn't it? I think that's his name," she said. "Yeah, it's him. Sean. I'm not just amazed by you. I'm startled," I said. "Kevin, you shouldn't be. I think the G-L-B-T community is a lot more Internet savvy than others in our society. I personally have an email web that covers thirty-two states and seventeen foreign countries. I have sent the link to Jeff's blog to every one of them. And I know that my son, who lives in San Diego, has sent that link to all of his friends all over the world. There's no telling how many people regularly read Jeff's diary. And you and Rick, and what you're trying to accomplish a half mile away from my office, are incredible, Kevin. The world knows," she said. I was weak. I never expected that. I didn't respond for a while because I didn't know what to say. "Are you still there, Kevin?" she asked. "Yes, ma'am, I'm here," I said. "I don't know what to say." "You want an appointment for Sean, right?" she said. "Yes, I want him to see you," I said. "Tell me about him," she said. I told her everything I knew, from how he got to us to what had happened in St. Augustine. "I want to see him, but I'm going to tell you this up front. Sean is a runner. Don't be surprised if he runs again," she said. "You and Rick have a therapeutic community going there, but there are some who just don't respond to your kind of love. I will say this. I've got about thirty gay adolescent males on my caseload that I would love to refer to your place, but I know you're limited. I'm a child and adolescent psychiatrist, and I have a very special interest in gay boys. I raised one, in case you didn't know that. But I know you have a limit as to how many you can take. If those boys only knew how lucky they are." "Well, Sean's here. Let's see if we can keep him here," I said. "I'm all about that, Kevin. I knew that sooner or later I'd hear from you. It was Tyrone Williams, wasn't it?" she asked. "He didn't recommend you," I said. "Oh, I know. He can't. But that's okay. I understand." "Do I need to see you, too? Or Rick?" I asked. "I usually have my social worker do a home study to determine what's going on in the home. In your case, though, I feel as though I've been there. By the way, my partner and I love nude swimming. She's a retired Air Force full colonel. That's why we're here," she said. "No shit?" "No shit," she said, and we both laughed. She patched me back to her secretary, and I made an appointment for that very afternoon. Dr. Symanski had had two back-to-back cancellations for that afternoon, so she was going to be able to give Sean a full hour. I was elated. I felt as though we had a family member who was going to be treating Sean, and that made me feel real good. * * * I walked down to Rick's office to report on the phone call. He was as shocked and amazed as I was at what Dr. Symanski had said. "Babe, I was going to come see you, if you hadn't come to see me. What are you thinking?" Rick asked. "I'm thinking the first thing we have to do is move those damn keys," I said. "I'm way ahead of you. They're in our closet, even as we speak," he said. "I thought of that right after you left." "Good," I said. "Of course, there aren't any vehicles at home right now." "Except the boat," Rick said. "Shit, I didn't even think about the boat. I'm glad you did, though. Is there still a key to the boat in the clubhouse?" I asked. "No. That's the one that sleeps with the fishes," he said. I chuckled. Kyle used to take the float off the boat key when he was driving the boat because the float knocked against the dashboard and got on his nerves. How he ever heard it over the roar of the outboard, I'll never know, but he did. One day he was handing the key to me as we were getting off the boat, and he dropped it, sans float. Gone for good. "I'll go home and check on him at lunch," he said. "And I'll check on him at mid-afternoon. His appointment is at three. I'll take him, unless you want to," I said. "No, you made the contact. You take him," he said. "Okay," I said. "What about the driver's license? What do you think about that?" "I've given that some thought. Granted, he doesn't have a car, but there really is no reason we couldn't lend him one of ours for a date. We could control that. Also, if he does somehow figure out how to steal one of the other cars for a midnight rendezvous, wouldn't it be better if he was a licensed driver if something happened? And also an insured licensed driver?" Rick said. "I knew there was some reason I married you," I said. "Yeah, right. It was so Sean could get his license. That's why I married you, too," Rick said. "I'm not even going to respond to that," I said. "I can do it tomorrow, but not today," Rick said. "This afternoon is pretty filled up with the doctor's appointment. I guess we could do it tomorrow," I said. "Or this morning," Rick said. "Are you slammed?" "No, not at all. I'll take care of it this morning," I said. * * * I went home around ten o'clock, and Sean was in the den in his underwear. The dogs barked me in at the back door. "It's me, Sean," I called out, so he wouldn't be scared. "Hey, Kevin," he called back to me. "How you feeling, Bubba?" I asked, when I went into the den. "A whole lot better. I just got up a few minutes ago, and I think a good night's sleep makes all the difference when you're hurting," he said. "Good. Do your nuts feel okay?" I asked. "Not okay, but they're so much better," he said. "Do you feel well enough to get a driver's license?" I asked. His face lit up. "Oh, yeah. Oh, I'm so ready, Kevin," he said. "Let's go," I said. He ran upstairs, both flights, and came down in two minutes dressed and ready to go. "Er, Kevin," Sean said in the car. "What about my face? Won't my license have a picture on it?" "Ouch. I had forgotten about that," I said. "How would you feel about wearing makeup to cover the bruise? Or we could wait until it's all healed." "I really don't want to wait," he said. "Let's do the makeup thing, but please don't tell anybody about it, okay?" "I won't, Bubba. Just don't flash the license to the other boys. They'll know," I said. "Okay," he said. We stopped at a drugstore that had a makeup section, and there was a lady working there who helped us out, once I explained our dilemma. She must have been good because the bruise really didn't show. "He'd like a little lipstick and eye liner, too," I said. "Kevin!" Sean said, indignant. "He's my little brother, and I was just teasing him," I said to the lady. "I figured you were, but you'd be surprised at the number of men who buy women's makeup for themselves," she said. He had a learner's permit from Virginia, and evidently Florida had a reciprocal agreement with them about that. He had to take a road test, which I thought was a total farce. But, anyway, he passed it with flying colors. Sean was now a licensed driver in the state of Florida. When we got home, I called Dan Pettis, Ryan Pettis' father, and put his name on our insurance as a licensed driver. After we had done our business, Dan wanted to talk. "Kevin, you ain't getting off this phone this quick. My boy thinks you and Rick hung the moon. Gene Goodson thinks that, too. Did you boys hang the moon?" "What do you think, Dan?" I asked. He was a likeable guy, and Ryan Pettis was one of the best. "I think anybody who has made my boy feel as good about himself as you fellas have, has got to have hung some kind of moon. Gene and I have been friends since we were little tykes, and I'm so proud our two boys are friends. Kevin, I think what you and your guy are doing with these young boys is just wonderful. I'll insure them as long as I live, if they'll let me." "Dan, thank you so much," I said. "You'll probably be hearing from me again," I said. "Emery Cook from the bank called me, and so did Cliff Andrews, about Kyle buying some rental property. If you see Kyle, you tell him Ryan's daddy is on the case for the insurance. I doubt that Kyle even knows about insurance, but it'll be all taken care of when he assumes ownership. Kyle is fourth generation of his family with this company, and he's the first one to go that far back. That makes me so damn proud, Kevin. I know you've got to go. Your new boy is covered. Sleep tight, and goodbye." "Bye, Dan. You, too," I said. I continued to marvel at the roots of the Goodson family in that community. I couldn't imagine anything like that conversation happening in New Orleans, but maybe it could. "You're all covered for insurance," I said to Sean. "Do you need anything, Bubba?" "I need to talk to you," he said. "Sean, I'm yours all day, if that's what you want," I said. "Kevin, I'm a total disappointment to myself. I want to be a good kid, and I thought I knew how to be, but I'm not. I'm a total fuck up," he said. "In what way?" I asked. "In every way. Last night, for instance, I was talking to Justin and Brian. They wanted to help me, and I ended up insulting them. Justin hates me. I know he does," he said. "I doubt that Justin hates you," I said. I knew Justin wasn't fond of him, but I didn't think Justin was capable of hating anybody. "Well, he does. And I'm sure Brian does, too. I'm not sure about Kyle and Tim, but they probably do," he said. "I don't think anybody hates you. Rick and I certainly don't. We're worried about you, that's for sure, but we don't hate you," I said. "I've really been a screw-up, and I'm sorry," he said. "You guys took me in, sight unseen, and all I've done is cause trouble for you." "I made an appointment for you to see a counselor for this afternoon at three. It's with a lady, and she comes highly recommended. Kyle said you told him you wanted to see a counselor, and I think that's a good idea," I said. "Thank you," he said. "Kevin, would you hold me?" He might have been sixteen and might have looked twenty-five, but he was really just a vulnerable, needy little kid. We were in the den, on opposite sofas. I gestured for him to come to me, and I wrapped my arms around him. He was trembling slightly, and I knew it wasn't because he was cold. He didn't say anything after I started holding him, and I didn't either. Eventually, the trembling stopped, and in a little while he went to sleep in my arms. I gently lowered him to the sofa, and I got an afghan to cover him. In sleep, Sean looked like a little boy. He was beautiful, and he radiated an innocence that was charming and appealing. I knew there was a tempest just under the surface, but the surface was that of a gorgeous child.
I started seeing Dr. Symanski the day after we came home from St. Augustine. She was just about the coolest lady I had ever known. She told me she was a lesbian, which is a gay woman, and she said her only son is also gay. That put me at ease because at least I didn't have to explain what that was all about. She knew. All we really did was talk, but she also wanted me to take some medicine, something called Zoloft, because she said she thought I was depressed. If she meant I was sad a lot of the time, she was dead right. I took it every morning, like she said to do, but I really didn't feel any different for a long time. She said it might take as long as three weeks for it to work, though. "One side effect in some people is a lessening of the libido," she said. "I'm not sure what you mean," I said. "Sex drive. You might find that your sex drive isn't as strong as it has been," she said. I thought that was probably a good thing, in my case. It turned out not to be true, though, at least as far as I could tell. I still wanted sex all the time. Things at home got a little better over the next couple of weeks. I noticed they picked up the car keys, but Kevin let me use his car a few times when I wanted to go to Scott's house or if Scott and I had plans for a date. Justin didn't seem to hate me as bad as I thought he did, either. I mean, he and I didn't hang out or anything, but at least he treated me the same as he treated Murray and Denny. I snuck out a couple of times to hang out with guys I met here and there, but I didn't get caught again. I started coming in the front door, instead of the one in the back, so the dogs didn't wake up. One day in early November I had just come home from school with Tim. He had gone up to his room for something, and I was just hanging out in the den, watching Maury Povich on TV. The phone rang, and I answered it. "Hi, may I speak to Sean Kelly, please," the guy said. "This is Sean," I said. "Sean, congratulations! Your new Celica is ready for you to pick up," he said. "What?!" I said. He repeated himself. "Who is this?" I asked. I thought it was somebody playing a prank on me. He told me his name and that he worked at the Toyota dealership in town. "There must be a mistake," I said. "Are you Sean Kelly at 12345 North Lagoon Drive?" he asked. "Yes," I said. "Then there's no mistake. Is today your birthday?" It was November 7th. "No. My birthday was last month. October 7th." "Well, the card says, 'Happy Sixteenth Birthday, Son. Love, Mom and Dad. Frederick and Barbara Kelly. Are those your parents?" "I'm not believing this. I thought they forgot my birthday. They just got the month wrong," I said. "Well, I don't know about that, but you've got a beautiful new Toyota Celica GT sitting here waiting for you. Can you come and get it?" he said. "Yeah. I mean, I think so. How late do you stay open?" I asked. "We're open until six," he said. "Okay. Thanks for calling," I said, and we hung up. "TIM!!!" I screamed. He came charging out of his room. "What's the matter?" he asked. "You're not going to believe this." I told Tim about the phone call, and he got all excited for me. The dogs were all worked up, too. It was like they cared as much as I did. "Let's go get it," Tim said. He drove me to the Toyota place, and I saw my new car for the first time. It was black, and I thought that was about the most beautiful car I had ever seen. It was real sporty, and it had a little spoiler on the trunk lid. Of course, pervert that I am, I got an erection. Tim noticed it and started laughing. "Shut up," I said, laughing, too. "You're not supposed to notice things like that." "Since when am I not supposed to notice a hard-on?" he asked. "It's not for you," I said. "I know. Kyle gets hard like that when he gets excited, too. It's a normal reaction, or so he tells me. I think it's kind of cute," Tim said. The guy at the dealership didn't notice, thank God, or if he did, he didn't say anything. He went over the basics of the car with me, I signed a receipt, and then I took off. God! I was so excited and so happy. I couldn't believe my fucking parents got the month wrong, but at least they came through. I called them to say thanks as soon as we got home, but, of course, I got the message machine and not them. I told them how much I loved the car, and I thanked them for it. I actually cried a little, which I knew was stupid, and I ended by telling them that I loved them. That might have been a first for me. Of course, everybody was as excited as I was when they came home. I drove over to Scott's house to show him and his mom, and she actually started crying. I had really started liking her a lot, and she seemed to like me, too. I took Scott for a ride, and we ended up making out for a while on a deserted road near school. Scott and I had been swapping blowjobs ever since that first one at his house, and we did that to each other in my car that first day. It was sort of like a christening. Some guy called me that night on my cell phone, and he wanted to hook up around midnight for a date. He had gotten my name and number from some other guy. He just knew the other guy's first name, and I didn't recognize it. It was something like Cal or Carl or something like that. I told him I wasn't interested. Ordinarily, I would have jumped at the chance to meet a new guy and suck a new cock, but I thought maybe the Zoloft was starting to work a little. Dr. Symanski told me I would start sleeping better when it started to work, and the last two nights I had been able to stay asleep all night long. Maybe it was happening. I hoped so, anyway. On Kyle's birthday, November 13th, his parents took the whole crowd out for dinner at one of their hotels. It was all nine of us in the house, Kyle's parents, Tim's parents, and the four guys from the townhouse. I had met Kyle's and Tim's parents before, but that night I got to know them better. The thing that got me was how much those parents obviously loved those two boys. And it wasn't just their own son that they loved. Mr. and Mrs. Goodson seemed to love Tim as much as they loved Kyle, and Mr. and Mrs. Murphy seemed to love Kyle as much as they loved Tim. All four parents both seemed to love Justin and Brian, too, and it was pretty clear Jeff was a favorite, especially of Mr. and Mrs. Goodson. The thing about my parents was they just didn't know how to love a kid, at least not like those people did. Of course, every time I drove my car I thought about my parents, and it was harder and harder for me to hate them like I used to. I didn't think Kyle's parents had given him a present for his birthday, but I later found out they had. And so had the Murphys. Each family gave Kyle two trips to San Francisco during Spring Break, and I pretty much knew who would be going. That was a nice gift, but I think I still would rather have my car.
Like I did every year, I looked at my birthday as the start of the holiday season. I guess that was pretty self-centered of me, but that's just the way I thought of it. Things were changing around our house. For one thing, Murray made his goal of losing forty pounds, and he was a totally different boy. His hair was fully grown out from when he had dyed it, and it looked good. He wore it short, like the rest of us, and you would never have known he had once been the freak he was when we first met him. Murray would never be a stud, that's for sure, but now when you looked at him you thought, Nice looking kid. He had quit smoking a while back, and he was faithful to working out with us, too. I was happy for him. The biggest changes, though, were in Sean. Not his looks, but his personality. He still looked like a model or something, but he was ten times nicer and more pleasant to be around. Sean used to get real moody, and that sucker would sometimes sleep all day on a weekend. Now he was cheerful and seemed happy. He and that boy, Scott Michaels, started hanging out with us, and their friends Colleen Boyle and Jenny Stone started coming over to watch movies and hang out with us in the clubhouse. That Colleen was a case. She had as filthy a mouth as I did, she smoked, and she could drink with the best of them. Mostly, though, she was funny as hell, especially about the fact that all of us were gay. At first, Justin was afraid of her, I think. A lot of people don't realize this, but Justin has a shy side to him sometimes. He hadn't been around a lot of people, especially girls, and Colleen and Jenny were a little overpowering for him, at first. The funniest thing happened the Tuesday night before Thanksgiving. That was the last day of school for that week, and it had been a bitch for me. Two big tests, and I had had to study my ass off for the one in chemistry. I ended up with a B on it, but that fucker was hard. In fact, it was so hard we had the option of counting it as our final exam. Guess what I chose. Anyway, that night Colleen and Jenny were at our house, and all the guys were in the clubhouse hanging out with them. Colleen and Jenny challenged me and Justin to a game of pool. "Strip pool," Colleen said. "Have you guys ever played that?" "Yeah. We play it all the time. Sometimes Kyle grows his own cue stick," Justin said. "Oh. My. God. That I've got to see," Colleen said. "Well, you got to make me lose first," I said. "Rack 'em, Big Boy," Colleen said to Justin, and he did. The game was fun, and there was lots of laughing and carrying on. Justin was an excellent pool player, but that night his game was shit. He was down to his briefs after the third game. "Okay. That's it. I'm out," he said. "Y'all won. I lost." "Is this the way you guys usually play? Just down to underwear?" Jenny had lost her blouse already, and she was just in her shorts, underwear, and bra. Colleen only had her underwear and bra on, and I knew she fully intended to take everything off, if she had to. When the game first started, nobody else in the room paid any attention to us. By then, though, every eye in the place was on the pool shooters. I still had everything but my shirt. "No," Brian said. "Don't be a wus, Buddy. Keep playing." "Yeah," everybody said at the same time. "If I'm going to do this, I need a drink," Justin said. "Bourbon and coke?" Sean asked. "Yeah. That's good," Justin said. "Anybody else?" The girls said they would have one, and I wanted one, too. I figured Sean and Scott would drink one with us. "Whose break?" Justin asked. "Yours," I said. He broke the rack and scratched on the very first shot. That meant he had to turn over his briefs. Everybody went crazy. Sean and Scott came running in from the kitchen to see what had happened, and the dogs were going crazy. Brian shushed them, though. "Are y'all really going to make me take it off?" Justin asked. He had a sort of pleading tone in his voice. "What's good for the goose, is good for the gander," Colleen said, and she poked him in his butt when she said "goose." "Kyle, please don't," he pleaded. "What the hell is wrong with you? You spend half your damn life naked in the summer time. There's nothing wrong with the way you look, man. I'm surprised at you for acting this way," I said. Everybody was loving it, but the girls thought the way he was carrying on was about the funniest thing they had ever seen. To me he was damn cute, and I'm sure the girls thought he was, too. "Fucking cue ball," Justin said. But then he took off his briefs. Everybody cheered, and some of 'em made catcalls. Everybody was laughing at how embarrassed Justin was. "Okay. Here it is. This here's my dick, and these are my balls, in case y'all didn't know," he said. "Wow!" Colleen said. "Can I get a closer look? I'm a tactile learner." She started going toward Justin, clenching and unclenching her hand, like she wanted a feel. "I don't know what that means, but you ain't touching me," he said. "It's part of my job as Fag-Hag-In-Chief," Colleen said. "I'm charged with the responsibility of seeing just how gay you are." "I'm fully gay, ain't I, Brian?" Justin said. Brian was laughing so hard he couldn't say anything. "And if I wasn't already, I'd turn gay before I'd let you touch me," he said. Colleen and Jenny were laughing harder than I had ever seen anybody laugh. When they calmed down, Colleen said, "Justin, I'm just teasing you. But let me tell you something. Don't be showing that stuff to any other girls because they won't let you stay gay long." "That's quite a compliment, Bubba," I said. "Yeah, well . . . I don't know," Justin said. "Let's play the game out. I'm dying to see some titty." Things got settled down after that, and pretty soon Justin forgot he was naked. Colleen lost her bra on her next shot, and she whipped that thing off like it was nothing to her. Justin took it and tried it on, which everybody thought was hilarious. He put a pool ball in each cup for emphasis. I had my camera at the ready, and I snapped away. "You ain't putting those on the Internet or in no book, either," he said. "I think you look stunning," Colleen said. "Have you ever thought about being a transvestite? We could have soooooo much fun if you were." "No," Justin said, and he took the bra off. "Kyle, I'm telling you. If anybody ever sees those pictures, your ass is dead. Now, I mean that." "I hear you," I said. I couldn't wait to email a copy to Craig. We continued playing, and Colleen scratched again and had to take off her panties. I had seen plenty of pictures of naked girls, and they didn't do anything for me. Seeing a real one naked, though, got me a little bit stirred up. I was glad I still had my clothes on. I didn't get all the way hard, but they would definitely have been able to tell something was going on if I was naked. We ended the game after that, and Justin and Colleen put their clothes back on. "Justin, when Jen and I first started coming over here, I could have sworn you didn't like us. Now I think you do," Colleen said. "All my life I've been afraid of girls," Justin said, "but you're a lot of fun. Maybe I should reconsider my sexual orientation." "Naw. Don't bother. You're happy the way you are," she said. "All of you seem very happy, in fact. A lot happier than your so-called straight brethren. Let's get drunk." |