All that stuff in Rome was pretty impressive, but I got bored with it after a while. I mean, how many churches can you go into and not have them all look the same? I knew Tim and Brian were getting hard-ons every time we saw a Raphael or a Michelangelo or a Leonardo or a Bernini, but that shit got old to me. Uncle Ray was fabulous. He knew everything, and he told us stuff about the secret lives of the popes I never knew. Hell, I didn't even know the name of the pope. That's how educated I was about that stuff. Now I know it's Pope John Paul II, but I didn't know that before. They say the name of the "Holy Father" at Mass, but I didn't realize the Holy Father is the same one as the pope. The train ride from Rome to Paris was okay. Good, even. That was the first train I had ever been on except those train-like things in airports, and that was a very good experience. Paris is a beautiful city, and we had a good time there. Tim and Brian wanted to go to the Louvre Museum, so we did. "What is this bullshit?" Justin asked me in private. "Bullshit? It's a museum. One of the most famous ones in the world. What's wrong with you?" I asked. "You think this is fun?" he asked. "No, of course not," I said. "But I think our boys think it's fun. So you just need to shut the fuck up about it, okay?" "Okay," he said, and he did. Paris was fabulous, wonderful, unbelievable, etc. But then we went to London. Guess what? Every damn one of them speaks English. Every damn sign is in English. Everything is in the fucking English language. Everything. Every street sign. Every menu. Every graffiti on the stall in the men's room. We could understand every damn bit of it, and that was like coming home. We did a lot of the tourist shit in London. I mean, we went to the Changing of the Guard at Buckingham Palace (yawn), Speakers' Corner in Hyde Park (yawn), and Piccadilly Circus (yawn). "Circus" means "circle," and all it is, is a traffic circle. It's a big one, and there's a huge monument to Lord Shaftsbury in the middle of it. The statue is of Eros, though, the Roman god of sex and love, which I think is totally right-on for Shaftsbury. Bury that shaft, Baby. Oh! Yeah! hehe. It's a pretty international place because it's pretty much all tourists. Not many locals, if any. But that's one of the places you have to go. We went to Westminster Abbey (another big church), St. Paul's Cathedral (another big church), the Tower of London (a big castle), Windsor Castle (another big castle and big church), and a bunch of other stuff. "Of the four big cities we've been to in Europe, this is the one for me," Justin said. "Oh, yeah? Why's that?" I asked. "It's so cool," he said. "Is it 'cause you speak the language?" I asked. I was hung up on that fact. "I know they're supposed to be talking English, Kyle, but I can only understand about half of it. I can understand everything in written, but I can't understand everything they say in spoken. I think I could learn this language faster than Italian or French, though," he said. "Justin, this is England. Eng-land. Eng-lish. There's a relationship. Get it?" I said. "Don't make fun of me, Kyle, 'cause I'll kick your fucking teeth out," he said. "I know it's fucking English, you asshole. But do you understand everything they say?" "I didn't understand everything you said when you first came home with us," Kyle said. "And you were just one state apart." "Okay, I guess. But I really like this place. More than I did Rome or Florence or Paris. And I really do think you might be right about the language," Justin said. I felt at home in London, and it didn't seem all that foreign to me. We went to a couple of plays, and we couldn't have done that in Paris. We didn't even look into it, in fact. But there were a million plays in London, and the tickets didn't cost as much as they do at home. We did a lot of stuff in London, but we also took day trips. One day we went to Warwick Castle and Stratford-Upon-Avon, Shakespeare's birthplace. Another day we went to Canterbury and Dover. Seeing the castle in Dover was awesome. Warwick Castle has been modernized, and people lived in it until 1978, or something like that, but the one in Dover is pure medieval. One of the coolest things was all the swords on the walls and ceilings that are arranged in patterns to look like art work. It reminded me of that bone church in Rome. * * * "So, what did you like the best of everything we did and every place we went?" Tim asked on the plane on the way home. "I dunno," I said. "Maybe Warwick Castle. Dover Castle. One of them, anyway. That was pretty damn cool, I thought. They could have left out the wax figures at Warwick, though, and just let you see the place. I was trying to imagine what it must have been like in those places during a siege. I should have lived back in those days." "Yeah, but you probably wouldn't have been in no castle," Justin said. "That was just for the dukes and the earls and the princes and such." "What makes you think I wouldn't have been a duke or an earl or a prince?" I said. "Yeah, with your luck, you probably would have been. I'd have been one of the servants or peasants or something. I can just see you as Lord Kyle. 'Get that big strapping one up here. I want to fuck his ass.' So up I'd go. Would you have fucked me, Kyle?" Justin asked. "I don't want to talk about that. That's stupid. What was your favorite thing?" I asked, changing the subject. "I don't know. It was all good," Justin said. "Maybe the plays. I don't know. You changed the subject, didn't you? You didn't want to say whether you'd have fucked me or not." "Justin, I'm not going to answer that. This whole conversation makes no sense, and you know it," I said. He laughed that "got you last" kind of laugh. "Shit, you prick. Okay, you got me last. So what?" I said. "So nothing," he said. "What was your favorite, Little Buddy?" "My favorite thing was St. Peter's in Rome," Brian said. "I would love to be there when the Pope says Mass." "It would probably be long as hell," Justin said, "but I guess it would be cool. One of the things I really liked in Rome was those soldiers we saw." "The ones in the airport?" Brian asked. "Yeah, they were cool with their Uzi's, but I meant the ones in the Vatican. The Swift Guards. I was in the men's room when one of them came in to take a leak. He and I had a smoke together, and he was just as nice as he could be. He spoke pretty good English, too," Justin said. "Swiss Guards, not the Swift Guards, dumbass," I said. "Swiss? That doesn't make sense," Justin said. "They're from Switzerland. They're all Swiss," Brian said. "For real? Swiss or Swift, that boy was mighty cute. And like I said, he was totally nice. He said he's been to America. Florida, even, to Disney World. He's married and has a little boy. He said he didn't have his wallet on him, so he couldn't show me a picture of him, but I could tell he was a proud papa," Justin said. "Those are the kinds of things I like best about traveling," Kyle said. "Meeting random people like that. You'll never see that guy again in your life, probably, but you'll always remember talking to him." "His brother's one, too, and his brother's gay," Jus said. "How long did you talk to this guy?" Brian asked. "Long enough for him to smoke two of my cigarettes. That's how long. He can't carry 'em in his outfit, so he said he has to bum 'em off tourists. That's how the whole thing got started. He asked me if I was married, and I said, 'No, but I got a life partner.' 'Is she here?' he asked me. 'It's a he, not a she,' I said. That's when he told me about his li'l brother," Jus said. "It was the most natural conversation in the world." "I think Americans are more hung up about homosexuality than Europeans are," Tim said. "I saw young gay couples holding hands everywhere we went. Of course, it might just be because we were in big cities." "What was your favorite, Babe?" I asked Tim. "I guess the Louvre. I had read a lot about it. But you know what? I also read that twenty-five percent of the most famous works of art in Europe are in Rome. That's incredible, don't you think?" Tim said. "Yeah, but there's a lot of money there," I said. We had already been in the air four hours, but we had a good four more to go to get to Atlanta. We made it a lot faster going than coming because of the tailwind on the way over. They came around offering drinks before dinner, and me and Justin got us one. After we ate, I went to sleep. I asked for two dinners, and they made me pay for the second one. That was all right, though. My little belly was full, I had a stiff drink under my belt, and I was off to la-la land for the rest of the trip to Atlanta. "Wake up," Justin was saying, almost shouting, and nudging me in the calf with his foot. "We're in Atlanta." "What?" I said. "Goddamn it, Kyle. We can't take you anywhere. Look at this thing," Jus said, slapping at my erection. "Cut it out. That hurts. I gotta pee," I said. "Well, wait till it goes down, for God's sake. It's going to be a while, anyway, before we can get out of here. Aren't you ashamed of yourself?" he asked. "No, I'm not ashamed of myself. Don't you get hard when you sleep?" I asked. "I know. I'm just teasing you, Bubba, but don't think it went unnoticed. A couple of those male flight attendants were up and down this aisle constantly, looking at you," he said. "Well, I can't help that. Did you sleep?" I asked. "About an hour," he said. "Brian and Tim went sound asleep, too. Just like you." "That's why they serve turkey on these flights. Turkey makes you sleep," Brian said. "That's a fact. I'm not making that up." "It's also cheap," I said. The flight home to Emerald Beach from Atlanta took an hour, as it always does. We got home mid-morning, and they were all at the house when we got there. They seemed really glad to see us, and I was happy to be home. No matter how good a trip is, and that had been a good one for sure, it's good to get home. * * * We got home on a Thursday, and we pretty much lolled around that whole weekend. People don't realize that a trip like that one takes a lot out of you, never mind the jet lag. We're active boys at home, but we had pretty much been on the go non-stop for seventeen days, and we needed to rest up. And we needed to rest because on Monday every one of us had to report to Goodson Enterprises for our summer jobs.
Going home to Houston was culture shock for me. I mean, it was to the same house, and all, but the atmosphere was so much different than I remembered. My dad wasn't there, so it was peaceful for a change. I didn't care if I ever saw him again, and that made me feel guilty as hell. You're supposed to love your father, and I didn't. I didn't hate him, exactly, like I wanted to do something bad to him. I just didn't want him in my life. "You miss Emerald Beach, don't you, Son?" my mom asked a couple of days after I was back in Houston. "Yes, ma'am, I do. I miss the place. I miss Kevin and Rick. I miss my brothers," I said, and I burst into tears. "It was a good experience, wasn't it?" she asked. "Mom, it was the best. I'm a different person than I was when I went there. Letting me go there was the best thing you could have ever done for me," I said. "I now know what it can be like to be a gay boy. And a gay man. I'm always going to be gay, Mom. You know that, don't you?" I said. "Yes, Todd. I know that, and I accept that. I hope and pray you're being safe," she said. "You mean safe sex?" I asked. "Yes. That's exactly what I mean," she said. "Mom, I will be when the time comes, but I haven't had sex. I've never even kissed a boy. Or a girl, either, for that matter," I said. "I naturally assumed that in that environment . . . " "But, see, it isn't like that there, Mom. There were eight boys in the house, and three of us were virgins. There was no pressure on me to have sex. The older guys -- Kevin and Rick, Kyle and Tim, and Justin and Brian -- are all couples who are deeply in love. Denny has a boyfriend, and I think he has sex with him, but Murray, Pete, and I weren't having sex at all," I said. "Murray started dating this really, really nice guy about a month ago, so they'll probably get into sex soon, but I know he hasn't yet," I said. She kissed me on the forehead. "I'm proud of you, Son," she said. "For not having sex?" I asked. "No. For being honest with me," she said. "I do want to be honest with you, Mom. And here's something else I want to be honest about. I don't want to go back to Spencer Academy. I want to go to public school," I said. "Why? We can afford Spencer, and it's much smaller, and probably much better, than the local public high school," she said. "Mom, I don't have any friends at Spencer, and you and I both know why. I really don't want to go there," I said. "I want to go to a co-ed school." "Your father is going to have to agree, you know?" she said. No, I didn't know that. I thought she had custody of us. "Why?" I asked. "We have joint custody of you and your sisters. This is an important decision, and he has to be involved," she said. "Shit, Mom. I can't believe that," I said. All of a sudden I realized what I had said, and she hadn't flinched. That's a habit I picked up in the all-boy environment of Emerald Beach, and it's definitely a habit I need to break. "Well, believe it. It's true," she said. "How can he have the right to run my life, Mom? He hates me and I hate . . . " "Don't say that, Todd. Don't tell me you hate your father," she said. "Well, I do. He won't accept the fact that I'm gay, and he gave me nothing but grief about that for the last six months I lived here with him. Before that, he never took an interest in me, never talked to me except to get on to me for not being the best. I was an Eagle Scout at fourteen, Mom. Do you know how rare that is? And I had just turned fourteen. I was a star baseball player for Beachside High School in Emerald Beach. I've gotten all A's so far in high school. I don't know what else I can do to please him," I said. I dissolved into tears. She put her arm around me, and she wept as well. "He wants you to spend this weekend with him," she said. "No! Mom, I can't do that. I won't," I said. "But he's your father," she said. "I know he is, but he's not my dad. There's a difference, don't you think?" I asked. She took a heavy sigh. "Yes. There is a difference. And I know that. Those men in Emerald Beach are your dads, aren't they?" she asked. "Yes, ma'am. I love them. I honestly do," I said. "Todd, your father has absolutely no interest in your sisters. He never has, but he is interested in you. Please spend the weekend with him. For me. It'll make things so much easier," she said. "I'll do it for you, but not for him," I said. "Thank you. You're my man now, Todd. And you just proved that to me," she said. * * * He picked me up on Friday afternoon. I was definitely not looking forward to that weekend, but I knew I had it to do. He came into the house, kissed my mom on the cheek, and my two little sisters, too. He shook hands with me, and then he hugged me. So far, so good, but also so out of character. "Have you had dinner yet?" he asked, when I got into the car. "No, sir," I said. "How about pizza? I could use some pizza," he said. "Yeah, that's good," I said. We went to the pizza place, and we ordered a large with extra meat. We got salads from the salad bar while we waited, and we both started eating when we sat down. "So. Tell me about Florida. Did you see your grandmother at all?" he asked. "Yes, sir. I saw her several times, and she's doing well. I don't really think she likes the nursing home, but that's the best place for her," I said. "Her roommate is a really nice lady." "I know she is. We've met her," he said. "Her grandson was with you in Emerald Beach, wasn't he?" he said. It surprised the hell out of me that he knew that. When we got to his place, he showed me around the apartment. It was sort of nice, with three bedrooms and three bathrooms. The furniture was either brand new or stuff we used to have in our house before we got new furniture. Once we were in the living room, I picked up the remote for the TV to turn it on. "Todd, before you watch TV, there's something I want to talk to you about. And I want to get it over with right away," he said. "I've done a lot of thinking over the last five or six months, Son, and I want to apologize for the way I behaved toward you. You have every right to be angry with me, but I hope you'll put that behind you so we can be friends." "Dad, I . . . " but that was as far as I could go. "Todd, I never really doubted that you're gay. Fourteen-year-old boys don't say that about themselves unless it's true, and I know that. I desperately wanted it to be a phase because I desperately wanted what I experienced at that age to be a phase in my life. I now know it wasn't, Son," he said. I was stunned. I heard what he said, but I wasn't sure what it meant. "Uh, Dad? Did you just come out to me?" I asked. "Yes, Todd. I did," he said. "Does Mom know?" I asked. I was suddenly very nervous, and I felt protective of her. "Not officially, but I'm sure she's suspected it for years," he said. "I wanted you to be the first in the family to know officially, but she and I are going out to dinner Sunday night. I'll tell her then. This is an enormous relief to me, Son. An enormous relief." "Are you . . . " I said. "Am I dating someone? Yes, and if you feel up to it, I'd like you to meet him this weekend," he said. "He's a dermatologist. As I'm sure you know, a lot of my referrals come from dermatologists, especially in cases of skin cancer. I've known him for a few years professionally, and I've known he's gay. He lost his partner in an automobile accident about eight months ago. He was devastated by the loss, and, somehow, we gravitated toward each other. He's about two years younger than I am, and we've been seeing each other since I left home. I never cheated on your mother. I promise you that. Of course I wanted to several times, but I didn't." "So, you didn't leave Mom for him? Is that what you're saying?" I asked. "That's right. I left your mother because our relationship was totally empty, totally a facade," he said. "I care about your mother a great deal, and she and I will always be close friends, but there's no physical attraction to her for me." "Wow!" I said. "Are you shocked?" he asked. I thought before I answered him. "Surprised, I guess. Not that you're gay, or bi, or whatever, but that you wanted to talk to me about it," I said. "Don't you think it would have been hypocritical of me not to?" he asked. "I guess. I don't know, Dad," I said. "Are you happy?" "Very happy, Son. Except for the time right after you were born, I've never been happier," he said. "Me, but not the girls?" I asked. "I love your sisters, and I'll always take care of them, but they were both accidents. Your mother and I made love so rarely that we were out of practice using contraception. You don't want the details, Son," he said. I smiled for the first time since he picked me up. "You're right," I said, and he laughed. * * * The weekend I had dreaded turned out to be amazing. We talked and talked and talked, and it was like two artichokes peeling back the protective outer leaves to expose their hearts. I feel as though I got to know my dad that weekend, and it turned out he's a hell of a good guy. He's extremely proud of my achievements, in scouts, in school, and on the diamond. Several times it crossed my mind to ask him why he hadn't said those things to me before, but I figured he had had his reasons at the time. His boyfriend, David, is great, too, and I saw the same warm vibes of love between them that I've seen between Kevin and Rick. I know what two men in love look like, and they definitely are. David took us out to eat Saturday night at the country club he belongs to, and he spent the night at the apartment in my dad's room with him. We skipped church Sunday morning, and I thought about all those Sunday mornings in the den in Emerald Beach. I went out into the living room in just my briefs, as I'm used to doing, and, to my surprise, Dad and David came out the same way. Both of them are good-looking guys, and Dad is in much better shape than I remembered. Not that I had ever seen him in just his underwear, of course, but I had seen him in a bathing suit a bunch of times. It was a very relaxed and casual morning. At some point in our talking, I brought up the business about going to public school. I laid out my reasons, and, much to my surprise, Dad said he wouldn't oppose it if my mother didn't object. Whoa! That was a relief. We went out to eat lunch, and then we walked around a mall for a few hours Sunday afternoon. We went back to the apartment long enough for me to get my clothes, and then Dad took me home. David either stayed at the apartment or went to his own house, I don't know which. I knew Mom was supposed to go out to dinner with Dad, and it was late enough for that. "David's a great guy, Dad. You're in love with him, aren't you?" I said, while he was driving me home. He smiled shyly. "It's a little early for that kind of talk, I think," he said. "Dad, I know what love between two guys looks like. I've lived in the middle of it for the last five months," I said. "Are we that obvious?" he asked. "Not out in public, but at home you are," I said. "I guess a gay man can tell when two other gay men are a couple," he said. I chuckled. "What about yourself? Did you meet anyone in Florida?" "No, sir. I met a lot of gay guys, that's for sure, but I didn't have a boyfriend or anything. I'm still a virgin, and I've never even kissed anyone," I said. "You have time, Son. Maybe you'll meet a friend, now that you're back," he said. "I'm not really in a rush, but I know it will happen, eventually," I said. "Todd, I know I told you how proud I am of you, but it's way beyond pride. I'm in awe. You're a real man, aren't you?" he said. "Well, probably not," I said. "I probably still have some growing up to do." "Don't we all?" he said.
School is out, and that's fine with me. Those boys take that school stuff seriously. I was kind of like a fish out of water, so to speak, because I had been out of school for so long. It wasn't that bad, but I felt a little self-conscious being two years older, or more, than everybody in my classes. I mean, I have to shave every day, and a few of the boys in my swimming class don't even have pubic hair yet. I talked about fitting in with my counselor before the school year was over. Her name is Mrs. Ayers. "How's it going, Pete?" she asked me one day. I had an appointment to look at my schedule for next year. "I don't know. At home it's going great for the first time in my life, but school isn't really my thing, you know?" I said. She studied a folder full of stuff she had in front of her. I figured it was about me. "Hmmm," she said. "Were you out of school for a couple of years?" "Yes, ma'am. Two and a half years, really. These last few weeks are the first time I've been to high school. I feel really dumb being here, you know?" I said. "Well, you mustn't," she said. "We'll help you get through." "Yes, ma'am," I said. I figured that was my fate. I couldn't do anything about it. Kevin and Rick put me to work as soon as school was over, and I'm glad of that. They give me money every month, but I want to save up to buy a car. I mean, Denny, Murray, and I have a really nice car to use, but it doesn't belong to me. I want my own car. I'm a pool boy. What is that? It's kind of a waiter/salesman/maintenance man sort of thing. The pay is $10 an hour, and I didn't know if that's good, bad, or indifferent. I figure Rick and Kevin make a lot more than that, but I really don't know. "How you liking being a pool boy?" Kyle asked me one day, just after they got back from Europe. "It's okay," I said. "You scoping out the boys?" he asked. "Yeah, pretty much," I said. "Am I making a good wage, Kyle?" "How much are you making? Ten?" he asked. "Yeah. Is that good, or can I do better somewhere else?" I asked. "I make $4.75 an hour as a bellhop. But, of course, I also get tips. You probably get some tips, too, don't you?" he asked. "A few. You only make $4.75? I hope your tips are better than mine," I said. "They are," he said. "You know how this thing works, don't you?" "Not really," I said. "Well, they start you at some low-level job, like pool boy or beach boy. You do that for a summer or two, and then maybe you become a bellhop. Then you work up to desk clerk. Then, when you graduate from college, you move into sales. Those are salary jobs, which means you don't get paid by the hour. Then, if you're good at that, they move you up. You know this is a family thing, right? That you can have a job with this company your whole life, if you want one? And if you don't screw up too bad?" he asked. "I figured there was some kind of family connection through Kevin and Rick, but I don't know what it is," I said. "Just trust me, Bubba. This company takes care of family, that's for sure," he said. "Are you family?" I asked. "Yeah, and so are you," he said. "What if I never go to college?" I asked. "Pete, you can, man. If Justin can do it, anybody can," Kyle said. "I don't know, Kyle," I said. "Justin, tell this boy he can go to college, please," Kyle said. "Yeah. You can go. It's all right with me," Justin said. He hadn't really been listening to what Kyle and I had been talking about. "Justin, encourage the man, okay? Don't be a dumb fuck on me now," Kyle said. "Encourage him to do what?" Justin asked. "Davis, step over here," Kyle said. "No. I ain't stepping over nowhere with you. I don't want you touching me, Kyle," Justin said. "Bubba, I'm being serious now, okay? Please," Kyle said. Kyle used a very different tone of voice than he usually uses with Justin, and Justin knew he wasn't teasing. "Okay," Justin said. They stepped over to where I couldn't hear what they were saying, but I knew it was about me. They came back. "Pete, Kyle and I tease each other a lot, as you know. But what he's telling you is the truth, man. You need to hang in there, get a college degree. I'm doing it, and I'm the last one on God's green earth who should be able to," Justin said. "But I never went to high school before," I said. "Shit, I never went the first day," Justin said. "I went to adult school and passed my GED test. I just graduated from Emerald Coast. You were there. You saw it. Pretty soon I'm going to be going to the University of New Orleans. Let me tell you something. Your brothers in this house will help you, man. They got me through, and they'll get you through, too." * * * As nice as they all are to me, I still feel like the odd man out. The older guys are all partnered up, Denny has a real cute little boyfriend, and even Murray is dating. Murray's guy is just pure sweetness, and I envy them all. They never talk about having sex with their boyfriends, but I feel pretty sure they are. I know they make out because I've seen them. The car for the three younger guys is the Celica, and, as fine as that car is, it really only seats four people. Denny and Murray are best friends, and they and their boyfriends often go out on double dates. Brian has a nice Mazda that seats five, and a lot of times they borrow Brian's car so I can go with them. Usually what we do is go to a movie or skating or go-carts or Goofy Golf or something like that. We get something to eat at Burger King or Subway or someplace, and then we go down to the beach. Sometimes all five of us stay together to walk around and talk. Other times the two couples go off in different directions to be alone. I figure that's when they make out or have sex or do whatever they do. I'm by myself, and almost every time I jerk off right there on the open beach. I want a boyfriend. More than I want a boyfriend, though, I want sex. Isn't that what every sixteen-year-old boy wants? I mean, that's all I think about. I don't consider myself a bad person for wanting it, either. They tell these stories about this guy named Sean, who was gone before I got here. Evidently, he had sex five or six times a day, with a different guy every time. I never hear Kevin or Rick badmouth Sean for doing that, but the boys damn sure do. I sure don't want that kind of reputation, but I want sex. I want to see what it's like. I want to kiss a boy and hold him in my arms. I know what they say about horny teenagers, but I am one. I endured it until after the big guys came home from Europe, but then I had to talk to somebody. I chose Kyle and Justin. Tim and Brian are wonderful guys, and I really like them, but I don't think they have nearly the street smarts that Kyle and Justin have. I know I could have talked to Kevin and Rick about it, too, but they're grown-ups. They're my parents. I waited until Kyle and Justin were in the clubhouse by themselves, and then I approached them. "Hey, Pete. You want to play?" Kyle asked. They were shooting pool. "Naw, but can we talk?" I asked. They looked at each other with serious expressions on their faces. They knew I wanted to talk serious. "Sure, Bubba," Justin said. "Let's sit down. Kyle, you know what I want more than anything in the world right now?" Kyle got kind of an exasperated look on his face. "No," he said. "A coke float. I been thinking about one of those all day. Is there any ice cream out here?" Justin asked. "Oh, that would absolutely hit the spot, Bubba. You want one, Pete?" Kyle asked. "Yeah, but I really do need to talk to you all," I said. "We know, and we want to talk to you, too. But we'll talk a lot better on a contented stomach. Y'all come make 'em," Kyle said. We made coke floats in the kitchen in plastic glasses that could have passed for small barrels, and we settled down in the clubhouse. "What's on your mind, Bubba?" Kyle asked. "Don't make fun of me, okay?" I said. "No way," Justin said. I wasn't sure if he meant, No way would they make fun of me, or, No way would they NOT make fun of me. I decided to go ahead anyway. "What's on my mind is sex," I said. I expected a wisecrack or a tease, but they didn't say anything. "Go on," Justin said. I explained to them about wanting a boyfriend and about wanting to experience what it's like to have sex, and all the rest of the stuff I had been thinking about, especially about Sean. "You ain't no Sean, Pete," Justin said. "That boy was disturbed, and you don't seem to be. What you're telling us is, you got the natural urge to have sex. That's all. If you didn't have that urge, we'd be worried to death about you. No shame in that, Bubba." That already made me feel better. "How do I make it happen?" I asked. "Hmmm. It's not really that complicated," Justin said. "If it was school time, I'd say look for a boy at school. But it's not. Who's your partner? Your work partner?" "Blake Crawford from next door," I said. "Aw, forget about him. He's straight, and, if he ain't, he and Riley are boyfriends," Justin said. "But I really think he's straight." "What I would do is find a tourist," Kyle said. "Somebody who's staying at the hotel. He needs to be around your age, maybe a little younger or just a little bit older, but stay away from the old guys. Check 'em out. Find one you like and flirt with him. Talk to him. The thing to watch for is guys who are checking you out. If you see one, go talk to him. Ask him where he's from, where he goes to school, what grade he's in. That kind of stuff. Ask him out. You like to skate, don't you?" "Yeah," I said. "Ask him to go skating. He'll probably say he has to go out to eat with his family. Tell him y'all can go out after that. If y'all are skating, you can touch him. I don't mean in a sexual way. Just your hands on his shoulders from behind, on his hips, bumping him on the shoulder with your shoulder. That kind of shit," Kyle said. "If he don't object or say anything, take it to the next level. Not there in the skating rink, of course, but later on. Go for a walk on the beach. Sit him down. If it seems like he might want to, kiss him. Gentle and soft a couple of times. If he doesn't punch your lights out, you're probably home free." Justin laughed. "Pete, by that point, you'll know," Justin said. "If you get that far, that boy's not going to punch your lights out. Do you know about kissing with tongue?" "Yeah, sort of. I've never done it, though," I said. "I think it must be a natural instinct or something," Justin said. "That's where you want to get to. It might be the third date, instead of the first. More than likely, he's going to be here for a week. That seems to be what most of them do. Take it slow." "Yeah. Take it slow. Don't scare the boy off," Kyle said. "Course, you might get one that's done it all before, and he might take over before you even have a chance to. With one like that, y'all might both come on that first date. But here's the thing you got to remember above all else. Be safe. If you just jerk each other off, that's safe. But if anybody sticks a dick into anybody else, mouth or butt, it's got to be covered with a condom. No exception to that rule. You're going to be having random sex, if you're lucky, and that's got to be protected." "Or, you might spend a week making out with a guy and neither one of you comes," Justin said. "You'll know, though. Probably." "How do I make that happen?" I asked. "Well, when y'all are kissing, y'all are both going to get hard. Reach down and start rubbing his dick through his shorts," Justin said. "If he don't want that, he'll tell you. But he'll want it. Guide his hand to your dick, if you have to. Unzip him and take it out. Y'all, talking about this has made me hard as a fucking rock." We all laughed. "Deal with it, Davis. It ain't the first time. Our li'l brother needs advice, and we're giving it to him. This is our job," Kyle said. "I wasn't complaining. I was just stating a fact," Justin said. "Pete, have you got some idea of what to do now? How to approach the situation?" Kyle asked. "Yeah. A lot better than I did," I said. "What if he wants to do more than that?" "You only ever do what you feel totally comfortable doing, okay? Promise us that," Kyle said. "And promise us you'll always use protection." "I promise," I said. "That's why I said find one your age or around your age. No older guys, okay? No babies, either, but you know that," Kyle said. "At least a little pubic hair is a must." "Good luck," Justin said. "I want another float. That one was damn good." "Me, too. Let's go make 'em," Kyle said. "You want another one?" "No, thanks," I said. I was so full from that one that I was about to bust. "Thanks for talking to me, guys. I really appreciate it." "No problem, Bubba. Let us know how you do," Kyle said, and they went off to make more coke floats. * * * That conversation took place in the afternoon of the Saturday after they came back from Europe, and Monday morning I started implementing their ideas. By that afternoon I had a date with a fifteen-year-old boy from just outside Atlanta. Just as they had said, he had to have dinner with his family that night, but I picked him up about ten minutes after he called me on my cell to say they were back at the hotel. We went skating and had a great time. We got something to eat, and then we went out onto the beach proper. Within ten minutes I had my tongue in his mouth, and he had his in mine. That boy had done that before. In twenty minutes, he was on top of me, rubbing his naked dick against my naked dick, naked chest to naked chest. We both shot big loads pretty quick, but, in a little while, we did it all again. Kyle and Justin button-holed me Tuesday morning. "How was the date?" Justin asked. "It went good. And we came good," I said, grinning. "For real?" Kyle asked. "Yeah. You were right, Kyle. Last night wasn't the first time for him," I said. "All right, Bubba. I reckon there are no more virgins in this house," Kyle said. I didn't "get lucky" like that every night, but it happened five or six more times during the first part of the summer. Sometimes Kyle lent us his big-ass Land Cruiser, and Denny, Murray, and I triple dated. Before long, I had even given and received oral sex a few times, and I no longer had to wonder what it was like. I knew. And I was faithful to my promise about using protection. Dating different guys every night was fun, but I made up my mind that what I really want is a boyfriend. I want somebody who's my friend, first of all, but who wants to have sex, too. I didn't know if I'd find somebody like that, though. Then I met Mario. He's nineteen, and he works as a bellhop at the same hotel I work at. Mario takes a smoke break in the morning and in the afternoon, and he usually walks out to the pool to smoke. His break only lasts about fifteen minutes, but that was long enough for us to strike up conversations. Mario's from Mexico, and his skin is a rich, golden brown. He isn't as dark as dark-skinned African Americans are, and he really doesn't have African-American facial features, either. He told me he's a Latino. Even though I'm growing, I'm still pretty short, around five feet, six inches, and Mario is the same size as me. I noticed that Mario liked to look around as we were talking. "What are you looking at?" I asked him one day. We had been talking twice a day for a couple of weeks by then, so I felt like I knew him well enough to ask a question like that. "Just checking out the scenery," he said. He really doesn't have a strong Spanish accent, but you can tell he isn't a native, just by the way he talks. "I think you're looking at the guys," I said. I was all set to make a joke out of that, if he seemed offended. He didn't, though. "Well, you know, it takes all kinds," he said. "What about yourself? Do you check out the boys?" I shrugged. "Like you said, it takes all kinds," I said. "I guess so. Are you dating anybody?" he asked. "I've been dating some this summer," I said. "Nobody in particular, though. Tourists, mostly. I meet them out here." "Would you ever like to get together for a movie or something?" he asked. "Sure," I said. "That would be fun." We did get together for movies several times. After a movie, we'd get something to eat and just talk. "Pete, we haven't yet said the G word," he said one night. "What G word?" I asked. I was getting a little nervous. "'Gay.' Pete, I'm gay, and I think you are, too," he said. "And I would like to kiss you and hold you. I want us to be boyfriends." I'm sure my smile must have almost blinded him. We were in Wendy's sitting in a booth across from each other. I got bold and took his hands into mine. "I'm ready," I said, and he smiled in return. |