Date: Sun, 3 Jun 2001 16:03:46 EDT
From: KingOfYesterday@aol.com
Subject: After School At Boston Public, Part One

THIS STORY...

...features characters from the TV series Boston Public.  The TV series and
characters are trademarks of and copyright David E. Kelley Productions and
20th Century Fox Television.

...depicts sexual situations between male characters, so if this offends
you, please be sure to write me a long, in depth letter about how I am
contributing to the moral deconstruction of this great country.

...is not meant to imply the true sexual orientation of any of the
characters or actors associated with the show.  It's just fiction, folks!

...should not be read by anyone under 18 (or whatever the "appropriate" age
to start having sexual thoughts in your state is!)

WARNING: This first chapter of the story does not feature what could
considered overtly sexual scenes, but is a neccesary read for the next
chapter, which should feature enough "good stuff" to make y'all happy :-)

**********************

"After School At Boston Public"
By Rychard

	I felt my body go numb.  My legs were on the verge of collapsing.
My head was spinning.  Any minute, I knew the tears would be flowing.

	I had to get out of there!  I couldn't -- no, I WOULDN'T -- let
them see me cry!

	I snapped myself out of my daze, and ran out of the Principal's
office.  The last bell of the school day had rung about half-an-hour
earlier, so the halls were pretty empty, except for those students held
after for detention, or the few students who stayed after for
extracurricular activities.

	A banner hanging from the top of the hallway caught my attention.
There it was, mocking me in bright yellow letters on maroon paper:
"Congratulations, Graduates!"

	That was the final straw.  I felt my cheeks heat up, and my eyes
began to sting.  I ducked away into a private area underneath the
stairwell.  I leaned against the wall, and slid down, bringing my hands to
my face, sobbing uncontrollably.

	I thought of my parents.  How were they going to react to this?
How was I going to tell them that their one and only son had failed his
last semester of Government, and thereby would not be graduating high
school?  I could already see the look of utter heartbreak and
disappointment on my mother's face.  And my dad...we'd always had such a
rocky relationship.  First he had found my secret collection of gay porn in
a hidden folder on my computer, and now I wasn't going to be graduating.
Now that I was eighteen, I didn't doubt that he would think twice about
kicking me out onto the street.

	"Hey, what's wrong," a man's voice asked.

	I looked up, startled as I wiped away my tears and tried to bring
myself to my feet.  Through my tear-soaked eyes, I recognized the man as
Mr. Senate.  He was one of the school's most popular teachers, based mainly
because of his reckless reputation.  He had fired off a gun in class.  He
started the infamous Suicide Club that took frequent field trips to the
local morgue.  And rumor had it that he had once kissed one of his female
students.  I never had him as a teacher, but had admired him from afar.  He
seemed to live life by his own rules and didn't care what others thought.
I only wished I could live my life like that.

	He grabbed my hand and helped me stand up.

	"You're Christopher Collins, right," he asked me.

	"Yeah," I said, "how'd you--?"  I cut myself off.  I had been
outted a few months earlier by someone I had considered to be a good
friend.  It seemed two minutes after I told her that I was gay, the entire
school knew who I was.  Including the teachers.

	"Are the kids hassling you again," Mr. Senate asked.

	I shook my head "no."  I didn't want to talk to anyone.  I tried
walking past him, but again he grabbed me, this time by the shoulder.

	"Then what's wrong Chris?"

	Hearing him calling me Chris instead of Christopher somehow made me
feel like I could open up to him.  And there seemed to be genuine concern
in his voice.  I wasn't used to hearing that from a man.

	"I--I'm not graduating," I said.  Saying the words out loud opened
the flood gates again.  I didn't realize I had that many tears in me.

	My body was shaking, and I couldn't look Mr. Senate in the eyes.
Before I could tell what was happening, I felt his strong arms wrap around
me.  He was hugging me.  And I let him.  I began crying on his shoulder.
He hadn't said more than five sentences to me, but I was sharing more
emotion with him than I had ever dared to show anyone.

	I don't know how long we stood there, but finally, after what
seemed like an eternity, my sobs died down, and I had no more tears in me
left to shed.

	He gently pulled away from me and smiled softly.

	"Listen," he said, "I was just gonna go home and enjoy a good-old
fashioned TV dinner and catch up on my soaps.  But I might be willing to
put that off if you wanna talk."

	I smiled, and nodded my head.

	"Come on," Mr. Senate said, as he put his arm around my shoulder
and led me to his classroom downstairs, the room that had been nicknamed
"The Dungeon."


	As we walked into his classroom, I suddenly became fully aware of
how alone we were.  The hallways upstairs had been somewhat populated with
a few random students and teachers, but down here, in the nether-regions of
the school, it was just the two of us.

	I remembered that when I first started school here at Winslow High,
Mr. Senate was the first teacher I saw.  I was instantly attracted to him.
He was as good-looking as they came: dark brown hair, deep brown eyes, a
look of mystery and mischievous masked across his handsome face.  I
secretly carried around my crush on him throughout my four years at the
school, never thinking too much of it.  I assumed every high school student
had at least one teacher they fantasized about.  Mine just happened to be
another guy.

	Unfortunately I had never had the opportunity to be taught by him.
He was in charge of the more remedial classes, while I was stuck in the
advanced classes because of those stupid standardized tests I seemed to
excel in.  The faculty of WHS didn't fully comprehend that just because I
could do well on tests didn't mean I'd do well in advanced classes.

	"Sit down," Mr. Senate told me.  I sat in a chair near his desk,
assuming he'd sit at his teacher's desk.  But he didn't.  He sat at the
seat right next to me.

	"From what I've heard from the other teachers," he said to me, "you
seem like a pretty smart guy."

	"Well, no offense Mr. Senate," I said, "but teachers don't know
everything.  You guys think because I get high scores on those stupid
county tests that I belong in the advanced classes."

	"I know Ms. Davis has told me many times that you've gotten some of
the highest scores possible on those tests."

	"Sure, but that doesn't mean I'm gonna do well in the classes.
There's a big difference between taking some test and doing a year's worth
of work that would double or even triple what the average student has to
do."

	"I understand that," Mr. Senate replied, nodding as if he agreed
wholeheartedly with what I was saying.  "Nobody said the system's perfect."

	"So I have to be punished for it's imperfections?  That's not
fair!"

	"Well life's not fair.  Get over it."

	I glared at him.  Even when he said something that was completely
rude, I still felt like I could open up to him.  I couldn't understand how
he did that.

	"When Mr. Harper called me into his office," I said, "I knew he was
going to give me bad news.  I could just feel it."

	"Can I ask you a question?"

	"Sure."

	"You failed Government, right?"

	"Yeah."

	"Well, again, Ms. Davis used to brag to me that you were her
brightest student in the class.  Why the big change all of a sudden this
last semester?"

	"Do you even have to ask me that?"

	He stared long and hard at me before answering.

	"I don't think that your sexual orientation has anything to do with
your capacity to learn."

	"No, it doesn't.  But how others react to it sure does.  I couldn't
even walk down the hall without someone calling me a fag everyday.  Hearing
that day after day eats away at me. So much so that I couldn't even stand
to come to school.  So I didn't."

	"Well that was stupid of you."

	"Don't you think I know that, Mr. Senate?  I mean, at first, my
classes only suffered a little bit.  I went from B's to C's.  No big deal.
But eventually, I just started giving up.  I can't tell you why, I don't
even know why.  It just didn't seem important to me anymore.  So C's became
D's.  And then...well, my Dad found out.  And all of a sudden I had a new
`inspiration' to do better.  And I got most of my grades back up, except
for Government.  I missed too much, I fell too far behind.  The tests just
kept getting harder and harder...and before I knew it, there was the F on
my final exam."

	As I told him all this, I surprised myself by not crying.  I just
said it all in a completely unaffected tone.  Something inside me gave up.
I realized this was the end.  As soon as my Dad found out, no matter how
much my mom begged him not to, I'd be kicked out on the street.

	I looked off to the side, my heart sinking.

	Mr. Senate leaned in closer to me.

	"It's not that bad.  You can take summer school, and get your
diploma as early as July."

	"Yeah, like that'll make a difference."

	"Chris, listen to me.  You can't give up.  You can't let some
fucking grade bring you down!"

	"Well that fucking grades gonna end up putting me on the streets
and penniless!"

	The exhilaration of cussing in front of a teacher who just cussed
was unbelievable.

	"Well look," Mr. Senate said, "if all else fails, you could just
sell your body on the streets."

	"What?!"

	"I mean, you're gay already, so all you gotta do is fuck some old
guys, and before you know it, you'll have some cash in your pockets."

	I looked at him in disbelief.  He had to be joking.

	"It's really a simple solution."

	"It's a dangerous solution. Not to mention fucking stupid. And
highly unlikely."

	"Exactly.  You're a smart kid, Chris.  Even if your dad kicks you
out, you're gonna get by."

	I looked at him, and began to laugh.  He simply smiled back.

	"You're crazy, you know that," I asked him.

	"I've been told that once or twice by an angry parent or two.  But
that's usually after I fire a gun off in class."

	We both laughed.  I don't know how he did it, but he got my mind
off my troubles.  Here I was, sitting in "The Dungeon," and laughing my ass
off.

	After a few minutes, he stood up and walked towards his desk.  I
saw him pull out a piece of paper and a pen, and write down something.

	"Here," he said, "this is my home phone number.  I don't usually
give this out to my students for fear of seeing it carved into the Boys
Bathroom under the phrase: `For A Good Time, Call...' but I'll make an
exception for you."

	"Man," I said, "that really means a lot to me."

	"Well, you seem like a great kid.  You're gonna do fine."

	"You keep calling me a kid, but I'm 18."

	"Are you kidding me, compared to me, you're a freaking baby."

	"How old are you?"

	"Look," he laughed, "I gave you my phone number, that's enough info
for ya."

	I smiled, and suddenly felt very very brave.  I don't know if it
was his affect on me, or the fact that school was over in less than a week,
or what, but I heard myself saying things I never thought I'd say."

	"Mr. Senate, I've had a crush on you for four years."

	He became very still, as he maintained eye contact with me.  I
think he was scared to turn away in fear of having me think he was
rejecting me.

	"I'm not telling you this to get a reaction from you," I explained
to him.  "It's just that in this last hour, you've been great to me.  And
we've never even talked before.  It's no wonder you're voted Teacher Of The
Year by the students every year.  I know I always vote for you.  But that's
because I..."

	"Because you `like' me?"

	"Yeah.  And I know there's the rumor that you kissed that student
of yours, um, Dana Poole?"

	"That's not really your business."

	"I know.  And I'm not trying to make you mad.  I'm sorry."

	"Don't be.  I just don't like talking about that."

	There was a long silence between us, as it dawned on me that I
didn't really know what I had hoped to accomplish by telling him what I had
said.  I didn't really expect him to say he felt the same about me.  He
didn't even know me.  And everyone knew that he used to date fellow teacher
Ms. Davis.

	"Christopher..."

	Uh-oh, bad sign, I thought.  He was back to calling me by my full
name.

	"I'm flattered you'd think of me that way.  I mean, in college, I
always kinda hoped that one day I'd achieve the status of Young Gay Man's
fantasy."  He laughed at his own joke.  "But seriously folks...I'm
flattered.  I really am."

	He took a few steps closer to me as continued to sit.  He leaned
down close to me, and I felt my heart begin to race.

	He smiled at me, and then leaned over and kissed me on my cheek.

	I nearly died.  I knew he was only doing it to be kind or
something, but I was grateful to him.

	"Harry," boomed another man's voice.

	Mr. Senate pulled away from me, and we both turned to see
Mr. Harper, the principal, standing in the doorway of the classroom.

	"What the HELL is going on here," he yelled.


TO BE CONTINUED...

----------------------------------------------

If you feel so obliged, I'd be honored to get your reaction to the
beginning of this story.  You can send me an e-mail at
KingOfYesterday@aol.com