Date: Mon, 19 Aug 2002 22:43:48 -0600 From: Ross Cutler Subject: The Apprentice I've never written a story for Nifty, but I spend a lot of time reading here. Don't read this if you're under age, and don't read this if you aren't supposed to in your town ( like anyone goes by that crap ). Me and my friend Brady have met some cool people all over the world because of Nifty, and if you like this story tell me. I promise I'll write back. Hey, if you don't like it, too, still tell me. It's okay, man.:) Thanks, Ian, Kris, and Romain for inspiring me to try new shit. Love you guys. Ross Rosscutler111@hotmail.com The Apprentice: A kid in my closet "I'm waiting for the other shoe to drop." Van Myers sat across the small round table from his friend of many years and chuckled. Roger Brandt was a good guy and a decent friend, but had the habit of beating around the bush when he needed a favor. Van was 26, 6'1" tall, and 180 pounds. His sandy short hair was gelled back, and he was deeply tanned from years of working and playing outdoors. He was very muscular and thrived on physical activity. He'd been captain of the swimming team in high school, and had continued with regular gym workouts and swimming. Working as an engineer for the streets department also lent hard work to his build. His pale blue eyes easily penetrated most lies. There was a tattoo of a mischievous smiley face on his right shoulder. It had fangs and cartoon bat wings to the sides. "What shoe?" Roger asked holding his hands up. His dark thinning hair covered a round face with kind brown eyes. He was not over weight but wasn't exactly cut, either. He'd been friends with Van since they were in eighth grade and had given him the nickname 'Vanmyer' as in 'vampire' because of Van's overly long and sharp canine teeth. "Come on, Rog. Every time you offer to buy I get suspicious." Van grinned and took a long pull of the bottle of beer Roger just bought him. "What do you need?" "A water polo coach." Roger met his eyes and smiled weakly, waiting to be told to piss off. "Okay, I'll bite. Why do you need a water polo coach?" Van leaned back and crossed his legs. "You know the Part-time Brother Program over at the 'Y'?" Roger asked. Van nodded. "Well, I sort of just got hired to be the director." "You mean that deal where they do counseling and drug rehab, that sort of shit?" Van nodded. "That's great, Rog. Sounds like exactly what you wanted to do." Roger had been in college for five years studying sociology. "It is. I like it a lot." Roger drained his bottle and set it down. "Anyway, there's this city league for water polo that plays every Saturday afternoon. We have two pools at the center, one inside and one outside, and they play all year long. Some of my kids want to start a team and play in the league. It would be good for them." "And you want me to coach them." Van said dryly. "Look, Rog, this may come as a shock but I have a lot of work from the city. All of those new sewage and waterlines that they're putting in I did the plans for. I'm swamped." "It's only an hour Saturday morning and Wednesday night, Van. I'm desperate, man. Don't make me beg." Roger leaned back and laced his hands behind his head. "Those kids don't have a lot, man. Just the tough shit on the street. I'm trying to give them something to believe in. All I need is a couple hours a week." Van rolled his eyes and groaned. "God, Roger. You always do this to me." "I don't ask much, Van. When have I asked you for anything?" "Let's see, the plans for the Christmas decorations last year, using me and my truck to haul the Sub for Santa stuff around, using me and my truck again for your canned food drive. It's not like I tell you no very often." Roger leaned forward and put his elbows on the table. "You're right, you've always been a good guy. Now I'm asking you to help these ghetto kids have a little respect for themselves. You were an ace in high school, Van. A champion swimmer. Let me use that to help these kids." "Alright!" Van threw his hands up in surrender. "Two conditions, though. Anybody that's trying to start a fight is gone, and I'm the coach, end of sentence. I decide how they do it, okay?" "Anything you want, buddy, anything." Roger beamed at him. The following Saturday Van used the Coach's office to change into his Speedo. There was a new whistle on a lanyard lying on the desk, a gift from Roger, and he snatched it on his way out. The locker room was already deserted as he walked through, and the sounds of splashing and laughing could be heard echoing off the tiles. He walked out onto the outside pool deck and saw fourteen boys ranging in age from about fifteen to roughly nineteen or twenty splashing and swimming in the large open pool. He walked to the edge and blew the whistle long and steady, it's deafening shrill cutting through the noise like a knife. The commotion died down and the boys all moved towards the side of the pool. "Good morning. Van sat down on the deck and dangled his legs in the water. "I'm Van. I'm going to coach your team." "What happened to Johnny?" A round faced Hispanic boy asked. "We thought he was going to be our coach." "You guys know Roger Brandt?" Most of them nodded. "He and I went to school together. When I was in school I played water polo for three years and went to the state finals. Roger asked me to help because I know the game, and because I'm big enough to throw any of you into the deep end, got it?" He winked at the kid closest to him. "Wow, you mean someone who actually heard of the game?" Another boy asked. "Somebody must've fucked up big time." "Enough of that." Van looked at the boy long enough for the kid to back down. "We're here to have some fun, alright? Maybe if we put some work in to it we might even win some matches. That sound good?" There were shouts and whistles and Van slipped into the pool. "Okay, listen up. Seven over there and seven over there. Let's go!" The hour went fast, and Van watched and learned. There were a couple of hot heads in the group but nothing serious, and what they lacked in knowledge of the game they made up for in enthusiasm. One boy stood out from the others not in unwillingness to play but in awkwardness in the water. He would thrash towards the ball, and spent a lot of time holding onto the side. It didn't take long for Van to figure it out. When they were done he reminded them to be on time Wednesday at six, and that they had they indoor pool that night. As the kids started climbing out Van pointed at the kid that had trouble and at one of the other's, a mean faced kid with an attitude. "You and you, come see me a minute." Van went to the side and slipped up out of the water, sitting on the edge. They came over to him and he leaned on his hands, talking to the attitude kid first. "Only warning, dude. Leave the chip on your shoulder in the locker room or play for someone else, okay? This is supposed to be fun for everybody." "That fucking moron Brian kept knocking the ball away, man. I had to stop him." The kid smiled lopsidedly. "He's a punk." "What part of what I said didn't you get?" Van asked patiently. "Okay, okay." The kid grumbled and climbed out of the pool, mumbling under his breath. Van turned back to the other kid. "This may come as a shock, but one of the skills you need to play water polo is the ability to swim, bud. What's your name?" He asked. The kid's face went red and his face darkened. "Ion." "As in Ion particles?" Van smiled. "Is that a nick name?" The boy nodded. "So what's your real name?" "Preston James Stilwell, okay?" They kid said sarcastically. "So is PJ okay? Ion just doesn't work, man. It's like hamburger steak and Military intelligence. I don't see it fitting." Van grinned and the kid seemed to relax. "Look, PJ, I'm not busting your ass. If you want to learn to swim so you can play a little better maybe we could meet a little early and I'll teach you." "That would be awesome!" PJ pushed himself up on the side and sat next to Van. "You'd really teach me?" "Can't have you drowning, now can I?" Van chuckled. "Bad for the papers, you know?" PJ laughed. "I'd like that, man. You're pretty cool." "I don't have time today, kid, bit I can meet you here at five on Wednesday, okay?" Van offered his hand and the kids shook it. "Stay out of trouble, alright?" As PJ left, Roger walked out onto the deck. "Well, that went well." He had a broad smile on his face. "My God, Van, you missed your calling, do you know that? These kids spent one hour with you and they're eating out of you hand. Incredible!" Van stood up and punched Roger in the shoulder affectionately. "It wasn't so bad I guess. Some of them really tried." "I heard you talking to Ion." Roger chuckled. "Like the name?" "Actually it's PJ, and he's alright." Van headed for the locker room trailing Roger. "Tough egg to crack, old buddy. He's hot or cold with his councilor. Had some minor Juvee shit last spring." Roger sat in the chair in the coach's office while Van showered. "No dad, drug queen mom. Hard case." "Seems okay to me. Maybe he gets tired of listening to you overstuffed shirts tell him what's wrong with him." Van chuckled as he dried off. "If you hear something enough you start to believe it. I personally think that half the poverty problem comes from kids not being told they can make it." "Wow, who's the social worker here?" Roger chuckled. "You hit off good with those guys. Van. Thanks." PJ ran most of the way back to the trailer park where he lived. His 5'9" body was sweaty as he stepped inside, and the swamp cooler didn't help much. His shaggy blond hair hung in wet strands to his shoulder blades, and his hazel eyes took in the chaos of his home with the usual disgust. His mother looked up at him from the couch and smiled weakly. Her eyes were red and puffy, and he could smell the distinctive smell of weed in the air. "Hey, baby." Lena Stilwell said in a slow slurred manor. "Hey, Mom." PJ smiled and headed for his room to get changed. "Did Gordon say anything about the freezer job?" His eighteenth birthday was in three weeks and his mother's current date of the week had promised to help PJ get on with a local frozen food processing plant. "I haven't talked to him, PJ." She said through the fog in her mind. "He hasn't been around for awhile." Which means that the amount he loans you isn't equal to what he was getting PJ thought nastily. His mother had a bad habit of using people up fast and then wondering why they quit coming around. He stripped off his still wet cut offs and wrapped the towel he'd taken with him to the center around his waste. He rummaged through the drawers in his dresser and realized with disgust that he had no clean underwear and no clean shirts. "Mom, you got five bucks so I can do laundry?" "No, baby, I don't." She answered in that weird tone of voice that he knew so well. He closed his eyes and sighed. He kept a stash of money in his room, a stash that had to be moved regularly so she wouldn't find it. He went to his closet and picked up the worn out old sneaker that he'd put sixty buck in and stuck his hand in it. He came out with a dollar. "Son of a bitch!" He snarled in disgust. He dropped the shoe in his closet and went into the living room, leaning on the wall. "So what do we do for food, Mom? Are you smoking dinner?" "I'm sorry, baby!" She pleaded. "Please don't be mad at me. You know I love you, don't you?" Van had a long hot day and was looking forward to a cold shower when he parked his truck in front of his fairly new doublewide trailer. He locked his 2000 GMC short bed and slid out, dropping from the side rails to the ground. It was lifted three inches and had 34" mud tires on it. It was painted fire engine red. He walked up to the porch and took the mail out of the box. As he dug for his keys he could hear Bruno, his English bulldog, scratching at the door. Usually Bruno got to go with him when he went to his mother's, but his brother Brad had been there, and Bruno and Brad didn't get along real well. "Hey, Moose!" Van bent down and scratched the dog vigorously and walked out with him into the yard. Bruno didn't like doing his trips to the yard alone, and Van was afraid someone would steal his dog. They made their way back into the house. After showering Van pulled on some briefs and went into one of the smaller bedrooms that he'd turned into an office. A drafting table sat on one wall, and his computer sat on a corner desk. He fired up the computer and put in the CD that had come in the mail. It was specification updates for plumbing code, and he loaded it into the machine. Van moonlighted for a landscaping company and did all of their design drawings for commercial bids. The updates kept his work up to date. After shutting the computer down he grabbed a beer and went to the living room to watch the news. He stretched out on the couch only to have to sit back up again to help Bruno up. Bruno hated jumping with a passion with the exception of getting down. After the news he stood up and stretched and then led the dog down the hall to the master bedroom. The way Van's trailer was set up the living room and kitchen took up the front third of the trailer, the two small bedrooms, bathroom and laundry room were in the middle, and the back third was the master bedroom and master bath. He picked Bruno up and tossed him on the bed. The dog immediately went to Van's pillow and lay down. "I don't think so, meat head." Van pointed at the other pillow. Bruno looked down with huge sorry eyes and stood his ground. "That side or on the floor." Van said sternly. Bruno got up slowly and moved over to the other pillow. Van's daily routine didn't change much. Weekdays he got up and went to the gym, worked out and swam until six, bought breakfast, and was at work by seven. He was off at five, and routinely met friends at the bar for a beer or too, but never more than two. He cooked dinner for himself and Bruno, worked on his drawings for work and the landscaping, and then watched TV. He liked it like that. He was asked constantly when he was going to 'find the right girl and settle down', and he always blew it off. The truth was he'd had two fairly serious romances, hated them both, and thought that sex was entirely over rated considering that a bar of soap never wanted flowers from him. There was considerable doubt in Van's mind if he would ever settle down. In his deepest truest feelings he was terrified that he might be gay like his brother. Brad had 'come out' while they were both in school, and Van had seen the horrible things that Brad had gone through and decided in essence, fuck that. The problem was that being a bachelor wasn't all that it was cracked up to be, and Van hated the idea of a one night stand almost as bad as he hated the idea of actually acting on the idea that he might be gay. It would fuck up everything. Thus he carefully guarded his lifestyle and didn't want anything disturbing the balance. Wednesday he got to the rec. center at five to five. PJ was sitting outside on the cement wall that circled the flowerbeds. He smiled as Van walked up. "What's going on, kid?" Van shook his hand. "Ready for a work out?" "Got a little problem." PJ looked thoroughly embarrassed. "Uh, I don't have a suit. I can't afford one right now." Van looked at him for a second and smiled, shaking his head. "Lucky for you, boy wonder, I got a spare. Come on." He headed into the building with PJ behind him. "You got about a what, 27" waist?" "Yeah, 28." PJ responded. "Mine's 29." Van led him into the locker room and set his bag on the Coach's desk. He carefully lifted the items in the bag and came out with a dark blue Speedo with diagonal yellow stripes on the hips. "Here. Take care of it and you can keep it, okay?" "Thanks, Van." PJ took the towel from around his neck and headed for the lockers. Van shook his head and closed the door so he could change. When they got to the pool it was pandemonium. There were several swimming classes scheduled until six, and there were a couple of dozen people in the pool. Van did his best to show PJ how to keep his legs straight but flexible, and to scoop the water on each stroke, but the third time he got jostled he sighed and sat on the edge of the pool. "This is a fucking joke." Van said. "You can't even do a lap right now." "Thought you didn't want us to swear." PJ chuckled, leaning his elbows on his knees. The Speedo was making him very self conscious, and we was painfully aware that he didn't look anything near as good in his as Van did. "Yeah, well, fuck it." Van smirked and scooped water into PJ's face. "Smart ass kids anyway." He leaned back on his hands and sighed. "This time of day isn't going to work. How early do you get up?" "How early do you want me to be up?" PJ asked. Van looked at the kid, at his long wet hair and his not very toned muscles and tried to decide how far into the inner sanctum he wanted the kid to get in. "I go everyday to the fitness center on Lakewood. Do you know it?" PJ nodded. "I get there at five and work the weights and then I swim from five thirty to six. I can get you a guest pass if you want to go." "To work out, too?" PJ couldn't believe his luck. He desperately wanted to be as buff as Van was. "I can be there at five!" Van smiled and glanced at the kid. "Tomorrow morning, okay? You better get some sleep because I don't fuck around." "I will, dude, I promise!" PJ slid into the water as the younger kids finished their lessons and started getting out. "Think I can do a lap now?" "Probably. Remember, keep the stroke close to your body, and let you knees flex but not bend, okay?" The polo match went well with the exception of two of the kids getting kicked out for fighting. Van stood with his hands on his hips and watched them go, feeling a little personal failure. He didn't want to see any of the kids off the team, but he wouldn't tolerate them picking fights. After showering and chatting with Roger, Van climbed in his truck and headed for home. Not far from the center he saw PJ walking down the sidewalk and pulled over, tapping the horn. "Hey, stretch, want a lift?" "Cool!" PJ ran around and opened the door. "This is an awesome truck, Van. There's one almost identical to it where I live." He fastened his seat belt and slammed the door. "Where's that?" Van looked over his shoulder and pulled back into traffic. "The Shady Meadows Trailer Park." PJ looked around at the inside of the almost new truck. Van laughed and shook his head. "This IS the truck at the Shady Meadows, bud. I own that doublewide where this is parked all the time." "No shit? That's great!" PJ laughed out loud. "Dude, everybody I know loves this truck." "Yeah, it's my baby." Van signaled and turned towards the park. "You did a lot better today, PJ. You had your eye on the ball. I could tell." "Thanks." PJ liked the praise. "Everybody was really into it tonight." "Did you know those two I had to get rid of?" PJ nodded. "Tomo and Brooke. They're always looking for someone to beat up." "I don't understand that." Van shook his head. "There was a prick like that in school. I got in a big old fight with him. Ended up getting suspended for three days. You know why? Because he said I looked at him. Messed up." "Sounds like them." PJ regretted the end of the ride as Van pulled up in front of his house. He got out and closed the door, admiring Van's neat yard and clean house. It was a lot newer that the singlewide he lived in, and the yard was a lot nicer. "This is it. If you want a ride to the gym be here at four fifty, okay?" Van shook PJ's hand. "Good Job, kid. I mean it." "Thanks, Van." PJ waved and jogged down the street. The next morning Van was standing out in the yard letting Bruno have a minute to himself when PJ walked up. The kid looked like hell and had dark circles under his eyes. His hair was wet, and his clothes rumpled. "Morning." He said. "Have a late night?" "Yeah, Mom had a party." PJ said and didn't offer anything else. He bent down and held out his hand to Bruno. Van gritted his teeth, expecting Bruno to at least nip PJ, but the stupid unpredictable mutt started licking the kid's hand and face. "You have a great dog." "I got a news flash for you, PJ. You're one of two people he likes." Van raised his eyebrows. "He hates everybody but me, and now you it looks like." "Cool." They arrived a few minutes later at the gym, and Van got the kid signed in, found him a locker, and when he wasn't looking paid the three dollars for him to get a guest pass. He didn't want the kid feeling shitty about not having any cash. Surprisingly, PJ turned out to be a real good workout partner. He picked up the spotter's job real fast, knowing when to leave the weights alone and when to grab them. Van was pleased when the kid picked up on the reps system and really put some effort into his workout. When they finally got to the pool he was so worn out that he picked up the long easy strokes immediately instead of trying to fight them. "Okay, punk. Good workout." Van walked up out of the pool and headed for the lockers. "Hit the shower and breakfast is on me." "Thanks, Van, that's cool." PJ grinned and twisted from side to side, stretching. "Damn, I can feel that." "Wait until tomorrow morning." Van chuckled. "You'll think you felt it." He slipped out of his Speedo and rung the water out of it. "Think you can handle this getting up early shit?" "I like it." PJ carefully didn't look at Van. More and more his mind seemed to get stuck on Van, and worse on Van's incredible build. He had to make Herculean efforts to not stare with slobber flowing out of his mouth. He'd watched the other guys in the gym and he knew damned well he wasn't the only one looking. He also saw the way Van looked at them, and didn't want to be looked at like that. On the way to the parking lot Van handed his bag and the truck keys to PJ. "Go get in, I'll be right there." PJ nodded and went out the door. Van watched his back and then went to the counter, pulling out his checkbook. "Make his a regular membership, would you? Bill it to me." Their routine became habit, and for the next two weeks they met every morning at ten to five to let Bruno out, then headed for the gym. Van was pleased to see how fast PJ picked up good habits, controlling the pace of his workout, and steadily improving his swimming. They added new strokes and more complicated routines with the weights, and very quickly they could both see the physical changes in PJ's body. He became more defined and started adding mass. The best part was the confidence that PJ was showing. The punk that liked the name Ion was long gone, replaced with a newly emerging take-charge personality that rapidly grew to lead the polo team. On Tuesdays PJ met with his councilor at the center. Wes Jensen, his councilor, was in PJ's mind a monumental waste of flesh. He tried to get Van that morning to call the center and get him out of the weekly session, but Van steadfastly refused. "Kid, it ain't gonna kill ya, and you might be surprised." He said as PJ got out of the truck at the trailer park. They'd stopped at McDonald's for breakfast, and Van dropped him off on the way to work. "In a few days you'll be eighteen, and you won't have to go. I think you'll want to, but that's just me." "Don't hold your breath." PJ closed the door and looked in the window. "You gonna be home later?" PJ stopped by and watched Van work on CAD on his computer most nights now. "I have an appointment, but yeah, I'll be around." Van smiled, showing his fangs, and PJ laughed. For Van the day went very fast as they did the wrap up and final costs on the sewer project. The water project, finished a month ago, had come in 11.2 percent under budget, and he had just been handed a bonus check in the amount of $1235.26. He leaned back in his chair and looked out the window, a wistful smile on his face. He knew what he was going to do with part of it. Somebody's birthday was day after tomorrow. He called the secretary and told her he had an appointment, stuck his head in the boss' door and said good-bye, and headed for the truck, and idea formed and expanding in his mind. For PJ the day had dragged ass, and he was cranky as hell. His mother was in one of her comas, the trailer looked like an earthquake had hit, and lunch was raman noodles. How unusual. He spent the afternoon out in the yard lying on a tattered lounge chair in his Speedo getting some sun. It was vain, and he knew it, but looks were becoming very important to him. He marveled at the muscles he was getting, and in the mirror he really noticed his abs for the first time. It was a bittersweet day. He had planned on getting his hair cut, but when he went to his new stash the bitch had already hit it, and he'd barely had enough for the noodles. Thinking about his mother left a sour taste in his mouth, so he decided to think about Van instead. The problem with that was a Speedo kept absolutely no secrets, and so he had to be careful what he thought about. At a little after three he got dressed and headed for the center and Mr. Jensen. PJ road his skateboard across town and was surprised to see Van's truck in the parking lot. He decided it was probably because he was friends with Roger and had stopped to see him. Feeling daring and a little arrogant, he put his board in the bed of the truck like it belonged there and went inside. Van was sitting on a folding chair watching a basketball game when PJ found him. He stood up and punched PJ in the arm affectionately. "Wassup, Ace?" "Did you get bored at work?" Van headed outside and PJ followed him. There wasn't any sign of Mr. Jensen. "Roger made me a councilor." Van shook his head. "I got a real hard case." "That's real cool, Van. Who's your kid? Somebody on the team?" PJ fell into step with him. "Yeah, he's on the team." Van held the door for the kid. "I guess his other councilor couldn't get in, you know?" He sat down on the concrete wall surrounding the flowers. "You ought to see the poor bastard. Damn near drowned the first day." PJ was beginning to smell a rat, and a huge grin spread across his face. "I did not." Van laughed and put his arm around PJ's shoulders. "So, do you want to tell me about your potty training, or would you rather go home and cook an early birthday dinner?" "You're my new councilor?" PJ was aware that he still had a dopey grin on his face. Van nodded. "No more urinalysis tests because 'my mother is unstable'?" Van shook his head. "That means a lot to me, Van." He slid his arm around Van's waist. "I mean it. It feels good to have someone sort of on your side, you know?" "Yeah, PJ, I do." Van stood up and pointed at the truck. "Now go get that goddamn skateboard out of the bed of my truck before it scratches the paint." PJ tore off towards the truck and Van tore off behind him. To PJ's intense satisfaction Van turned out to be a damn good cook. His homemade pizza was fantastic, and he ate like it was going out of style. Bruno panted and slobbered, patiently waiting for handouts from both of them, and paced nervously while they ate. Van even gave him a bottle of beer to wash it down, not even asking if he wanted it. They sat on the porch deck and watched Bruno rummage around the yard, and just as PJ was starting to feel like he'd had the best birthday he'd ever had, they went back inside and Van brought out a small chocolate cake. PJ swallowed hard and fought to keep from getting choked up. He hadn't had a fuss on his birthday since his grandma died. He was nine at the time. "Hey, see if I left Bruno's water in on the bathroom floor, would you?" Van said around a mouthful of cake. PJ nodded and went down the hall. "What the fuck?" PJ exclaimed from the bathroom, and Van smiled and patted Bruno's head. PJ came down the hall carrying four wrapped birthday packages that he'd found on the bathroom counter. His face was bright red and his eyes were watery. "You didn't have to do this, Van. You've given me a lot already." "This goes with what you've got, stud, and If Bruno wants to spend his bonus on you, that's his business." Van moved the cake to the cupboard and took their plates to the sink. "You need this stuff, PJ. It was my pleasure." PJ opened the largest package first and found a new gym bag and two towels. "That is fantastic!" He said and went for the next one. It contained two pairs of spandex workout shorts and two muscle tank tops. "Wow, they're like yours!" The next present had in it two new Speedos, one of the standard bikini style, and one of the competition style that had legs that went to the knees. They were both purple with silver and black spider webs on them. "Awesome!" The last was a Swatch watch, the waterproof one that he'd seen one day when he went to the store with Van. He was shaking too hard to put it on so Van had to do it. "You can do whatever you want with these things, PJ, but if you want to keep them here you can. That way they can be washed here. And if you want, you can do your wash here so you don't have to go to the Laundromat." Van handed him an envelope, and inside the card was a key to the front door. "Don't make me sorry I gave you that, okay? You can help me keep an eye on Bruno." PJ couldn't help it. He was overwhelmed with emotions and the floodgates opened. Tears fell down his cheeks and he sniffed loudly. "Nobody's done this for me in a long time." He wrapped his arms around Van's waist. "Thanks a lot, Van. I really mean it." "Everybody needs somebody to give a shit. Even me and Bruno." Van chuckled and stroked PJ's hair. "Maybe you ought to go sit down a minute while I get the dishwasher going." "I wanna help." PJ insisted and sniffed again. He started picking up the paper and wadding it up. "I wish I was a couple of years older." "Why's that?" Van asked, putting their plates in the washer. "I probably would've stayed in school if you'd been around." "I was going to ask you about that. Roger says there's a spot in the next class. Want to go?" Van stopped and met his eyes. "I'll help if you want to try it." PJ nodded, a dopey grin on his face. "Yeah, but only if you help me." "I promise." Van laughed. "Go try those clothes on so we can exchange them if we need to." He pointed down the hall. "I cleared out the top drawer of the dresser for you to keep your gym stuff in." He finished loading the dishes and turned the dishwasher on. "How the hell do I get this lock open?" PJ called from the bedroom. Van had bought a combination lock for it. He walked down the hall and found PJ standing in his underwear at the dresser trying to open the lock. His briefs were tattered and gray, and Van very carefully kept any negative expression off his face. It wasn't PJ's fault that he didn't have any decent clothes. "Put in 6147. That's the last four of my phone number so you can remember it easy." PJ put the numbers in and it popped open. He looked at Van, pleased with him self, and unzipped the bag. "Just a word to the wise. I don't wear anything under the spandex because it bunches up, but you can do what you want, okay?" Van turned back and went out into the living room with Bruno hot on his heels. He stretched out on the couch and turned on the TV. PJ came out pulling one of the tank tops on. He had on the gray and green striped workout shorts, and he looked spectacular. Van smiled and gave him a thumbs up. "You look like a pro now, PJ Ion Stilwell." PJ Beamed at him. "No Ion anymore. He was a prick." He plopped down on the other end of the couch and rolled to his side, wrestling with the dog. "I have to go to Portland for a couple of days. I'm leaving tomorrow after practice." Van said. PJ looked up at him with a look of worry on his face. "I fixed it with the gym, and you can go whenever you want. That way you can go Thursday and Friday." "I will, I promise." PJ let the dog get in his lap and scratched its ears. "When will you be home?" "Saturday morning or possibly Friday night. I was hoping you might keep an eye on Bruno for me so he doesn't have to go to a kennel. You could stay her if you want, and use the spare bed or my bed if you want." Van wiggled his toes, tickling PJ's side. PJ yelped and dived off the couch. "Oh, you bastard. Nobody tickles me." He grinned and moved away. "I'll be glad to stay with Bruno, man. Any way I can help is cool." "Do you need to check with your Mom first?" "Fuck that." PJ's face darkened. "I'm eighteen day after tomorrow. What's she gonna do, throw me out? She'd starve." "I didn't mean to dig your shit, PJ. You know that." Van consoled. "You didn't. It's not your fault she's a crack whore." PJ tossed Bruno's ball down the hall for him. "I wish I had a brother like you or something. Things would've been different." Van was touched. "Just keep up your hard work, okay Squirt? Get your ass back in school and succeed for you. Fuck everybody else." PJ giggled and rolled onto his side. The beer had made him a little giddy. "Dude, I only want to fuck one person, and when the time's right I will." Van blinked, taken by surprise at the strange comment. He shrugged it off and glanced at the clock. It was almost eleven. "Look, if you want you can stay tonight. The spare bed is made up, or you can have the couch." "The bed." PJ jumped to his feet. "Thanks. That way we can get an early start to the gym." "You, uh, want some boxers to sleep in?" Van didn't want to come right out and say how awful PJ's underwear was. PJ blushed and looked at his hands. "I don't wear anything to bed usually." "Hey, whatever you're comfortable with. You can streak through the house if you want." Van felt his own face go red. He slept nude, too, and had since he was sixteen. "Just don't traumatize Bruno if you get up in the night." PJ laughed and pulled his shirt off. He stopped at the hallway and looked back, and then walked back over to Van. "I never trusted anybody before I met you. That's even better than the presents." He wrapped his arms around Van and hugged him hard. Van hugged him back. "You're a good man, PJ. Don't let what already happened stop you now, okay?" PJ nodded and stepped back. "This was a first class birthday party. Thanks." He smiled and turned, trailing Bruno down the hall. Van turned out the lights and locked the doors, listening to PJ get in bed, and he shook his head in resignation. God he got himself into some dumb shit sometimes.