Disclaimer: This story contains sexual content of a homosexual nature between consenting teenagers. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you are under legal age, offended, or otherwise do not wish to view material of a frank and sexual nature do not read this story.

Author's Note: This is a work of fiction.  Many characters were inspired by real people.  I would gladly appreciate any feedback.  This includes constructive criticisms.  Please send to ube_licker@hotmail.com

Copyright 2005 by ube_licker
All Rights Reserved.

Chapter 5

Joe looked at me quizzically. His dark red hair uniquely matched his tanned freckled skin. He was tall and lanky but not skinny. Red plaid pajama bottoms and a basketball jersey now replaced his usual clean style. Joe should have joined the basketball team and other sports teams in the school. He was fairly athletic. I watched him play basketball with the other students in the gym. Pierre and Eric explained to me that Joe was the rebellious type. He was always compared to his straight older siblings and was never taken seriously. His father was an overbearing man who ridiculed Joe for his sexuality and average grades. His mother was passive. His problems manifested themselves into his sardonic, patronizing and anecdotal humor. It was Joe's aunt, however, that believed in his potential and paid for his schooling. Montega Academy was his haven away from his hellish life at home. He was a friend with Lucky since freshman year and through Lucky he gained his Gold member status. But there was a reason why Lucky, the president of student council, chose him for such a high position. Joe was a very organized and clean person. One look in his dorm room and one can see books, albums, and movies... all in alphanumeric order. The dishes, kitchen and bathroom were always spotless. His own bed was neatly folded at all times. His organization skills helped him to become the event and activities coordinator of the institute.

"Dude, is that seriously a hickey on your neck?"

I didn't know how to answer him. Images, smells, sounds and the way I was touched filled my mind. I glanced behind Joe to see the rising sun behind him. The sky was light pink and gently caressed by the outer blue. The jungle stood before it. Alive. The animals chirped, squabbled, whistled and horned. It was Mother Nature's way of waking up the village. It was a way of signaling a new day. I glanced back to Joe's dark piercing eyes.

"Ethan's probably been bitten by a bug or something. He slept on the floor remember? So just relax Joe," Damien ordered.

He leaned by the doorway. Cowboy hat. Shirtless. Gray jogging pants clung loosely on his hips, revealing his lean lower abdomen. Joe and Damien locked eyes. There was something serious and intense that went on inside their minds. It was as if they were communicating in a silent language.

"A bug huh?" Joe asked without looking at me.

"Sleep on a bed next time ok? At least one of us can keep you cozy..."

Joe winked at Damien. He then left the hut. Four other students were still sleeping. Damien stared in my direction. A soft breeze made my nipples hard. He looked at me. Up and down. He then licked his lips. I touched my neck. I could still feel his tongue, teeth, lips and mouth on my flesh. I could feel him on top of me. His large hands grabbing, pulling, grasping... His thighs and hips grinding in-between my legs... I knew it was big. I felt it before in the hot springs. And last night it was rubbing against my thighs, my own groin and it reached up to my stomach. I didn't know it then but the head of it touched my skin. With all the rubbing and grinding, it left a trail of precum from my belly button to my navel. I shook my head. Damien had left.

We left the village late in the morning. Many of the children were sad to see their new playmates go, but were quickly distracted by the light rain that only lasted minutes. It reminded me of my first day of school. I never wanted my parents to leave, but when I saw the other children playing, I quickly joined them not realizing that my parents had already left. The villagers had given us plenty of fruits for our journey to our next destination, the ancient Hawaiian temples or heiau. Mr. Buchanan had arranged for this trip to be on horseback led again by our two Indigenous companions.

"Ethan, you've never ridden a horse before. Are you sure you can handle it?" Mr. Buchanan asked with concern as he jumped onto a brown mare.

Joe quickly grabbed me by the waist to help me get onto my own horse. He flashed a look somewhere and gave a wink. I looked towards his direction and noticed Damien riding off with his gray steed. I straddled the animal below me. I was unsteady at first as I pulled the reigns. I trotted behind our teacher as we made our way to the temples. We first followed the river by the village down till it reached the Pacific Ocean. The trees became less dense. I bent down on the saddle close to the ears of my organic vehicle. I secretly prayed in its ear. I displayed comfort in front of my peers, but deep down inside I was afraid of falling off the large animal. Eric seemed very natural at horseback riding. He made it look easy and smooth. He casually rode beside me, his eyes directly in front of him, never staring at the beast beneath him.

"So how are you feeling Ethan?"

I held on the reigns tightly and adjusted my posture. Balance came with a forced control.

"Doing better than I thought I would."

Eric chuckled. He brushed his wavy hair back with one hand, as if to show his extreme calm and control over the four-legged creature.

"Sorry to bring this up, but people are talking about you."

My face turned red.

He looked at me knowingly and said, "Don't worry Ethan. It's not bad. Everyone thinks that you're just turning into this player."

"What?" I asked him confused.

"First Pierre now you've got..."

I almost fell off the horse.

"My roommate?"

He scratched his head.

"Yeah. Aren't you the reason why him and George broke up? Your other two roommates were telling everyone that they heard noises in your bedroom the first night you came to school."

I was puzzled. But something dawned on me. George had crept into our room that night.

"When I first heard that I wasn't surprised. You're really cute and you have this sexy walk when your clothes aren't all on. It makes us want to look and get hard."

I laughed. Was Eric flirting with me?

"I don't know Eric. But Pierre and I... we're just friends."

"How about Damien?"

I was silent, looking ahead in the dirt path that we took. On the path between the river and the jungle, we could only ride in pairs. There was a pair of students in front of me. And there was a pair of students behind me. There was no escape.

"I don't know what Damien wants from me."

He cocked his head to look at me.

"He wants what a lot of guys in school want from you. Question is, what is it that you want from him?"

I didn't look at him. The trees provided a nice shade from the over heated sun. I could feel the blister on my neck. And I could also feel the lips that made it that way.

"Sorry Ethan, I didn't mean to step on your toes."

I turned my head for the first time while I was on the saddle and smiled.

"It's ok Eric. I'm not sure yet."

He petted the mane of his horse.

"Damn Ethan. No one at Montega can figure you out. When it comes to looks you are the cream of the freaking crop. But you wear the same shirt at least twice a week, we've only seen you in two pairs of jeans and you've never been on a date. The Gold members, who are the most popular and good-looking guys in the school, ask you to chill with them, but you rather spend your time with that loner in your gym class. Damien, the hottest guy in school, has been eyeing you from day one and the moment he asks you to cuddle with him, you allow your greatest competition, Max, to take your place on his bedside. The guy is practically begging you to screw his brains out."

I sighed, "I don't have a lot of clothes. Snowy is a good guy. And I'm a virgin. I never thought I'd be a hard person to figure out."


Eric stayed quiet through most of the trail. Beyond the trail was the long stretch of sandy beach. The waves thundered in this part of Oahu, North Shore. On the other side was the popular surf central of the world where international competitions created heroes in Hawaii. We rode the opposite way towards the ancient temples built at the earliest point of Polynesian civilization.

Though long laid to ruins, Hawaiian heiau, or temple sites, are still sacred to most Hawaiians. These were places of great spiritual power and were treated with reverence. Some sites have been restored, others appear to be no more than low stonewalls overgrown with weeds, but all remain significant to the Hawaiian culture. The largest heiau on Oahu is Pu'u O Mahuka, located in the town of Pupukea on the North Shore. The heiau is nearly intact, consists of three adjoining enclosures, and measures 575 by 170 feet. This was a powerful place for the priests and the royalty and was also considered an advantageous place for female royalty (ali'i) to give birth. Poised on a Pali overlooking Waimea Bay, this sacred Hawaiian site is a national landmark and a registered state historic site.

The sun bathed us in gentle heat throughout the day. Our horses were getting tired by the time we reached a plain beyond the beach. There before laid large rocks of different colors stacked in rows. They formed a rectangular rock formation on a bird's eye view. We got off the saddles to start walking around these strange and mysterious rocks. Mr. Buchanan gathered us around in circle before it.

"The temples were destroyed long ago. This is barely the skeletal backbone of what they used to be. They were made for the gods of agriculture and war. The temples or heiau were monumental platforms and terraces made of boulders composed of cooled lava. Agricultural temples were the sites of annual tribute-collection rituals that are associated with archaic states. As a part of religious ritual, high priests from the ruling class collected surplus pigs, sweet potatoes, feathers and other agricultural products and status objects from the commoners. This tribute supported the bureaucracy and the households of the chiefly classes."

Mr. Buchanan cleared his throat and turned to point at the ruins.

"So what does this mean class?"

Damien walked forward. He had rolled the sleeves of his shirt to display his broad shoulders.

"It means sir, that the temples had two purposes. It's a place of worship and was structured for man to reach the deities that could offer them food and victory. But it's also a representation of the class struggles within early Polynesian society."

Damien always made it look like he never paid attention in class. But when a question was asked that no one else could answer, he would casually raise his hand and give a scholarly response. It reminded me of how my father used to tease my mom about him forgetting important events, like birthdays and anniversaries. He'd sit on his armchair and say, `Sorry honey, I forgot again'. My mother would sigh and continue her chores. But every single time she would surprisingly find a gift-wrapped in gold wherever she'd be continuing a chore. My brother and I would laugh along with our father at her flustered face, and we would come down to help her with the chores like we did everyday.

"Excellent Damien. The temples to the people were..."

Mr. Buchanan continued on with his lecture on these ancient sites. Afterwards we were given time to look around independently. Our two companions were watching the horses. Damien went with Joe and Bobby to a store close by to buy some much-needed snacks. I stayed behind with the other members of class to analyze and reflect on this ancient plain. I was crouched down, looking at some stones when Max approached me. I saw him at the corner of my eye.

"I thought we were friends Ethan."

His green eyes were watery. His face was flushed with anger.

"What's this about Max?"

I stood up to face him.

"Shut up and stop pretending."

He pointed at my neck.

"Everyone's been talking about it since this morning. You knew how I feel about him..."

I stepped closer to him.

"Do you believe in everything people tell you?"

He sniffed like he had a running nose.

"We barely know you, and you're always strutting your ass like your so high and..."

I brushed my hair back gently and looked deep into his eyes.

"Do you know that I told him to stop?"

He was quiet for a second.

"Liar. You're so fake Ethan. I bet you even had plastic surgery to fix your face and body. Did your mommy and daddy pay for it to sell you like the whore you make yourself to be?"

I told myself to stay calm. Smile at the face of adversity, my mother always told me. Just keep smiling.

"I got to Montega through scholarship. Even if my parents were alive they could never financially support my tuition, let alone plastic surgery. You should really talk to Damien about your feelings for him. I'm sorry if you feel like I betrayed your trust."

I turned around to walk close to the beach. Even with the sound of gushing waves, I could still feel the tears that dropped from Max's face. I wondered if Damien even acknowledged that there was already someone there for him, someone willing to give him more than I could. Max already gave Damien his body, and if Damien were willing, he would even give him his soul.

We camped out that night under the twinkling stars and mystifying moon. For many in the class, it was their first camping trip with the most minimal of equipment and technology used. We had a few flashlights and only three tents. One for Mr. Buchanan and our companions, and the other two split the class in half. We sat in front of the large fire for hours. The indigenous men told us Hawaiian ghost stories. We listened carefully as they told us tales about the haunted schools of the island. One of them began to talk of an incident that happened years ago. His voice was eerie.

"I use to attend Aliamanu Elementary and Aliamanu Intermediate School. It was Halloween night and my friends and I decided to see if the schools were both haunted. We heard many stories about how a mother and a child were both killed in the fields next to my school and that their hands were chopped off, another is the instruments in the band room and the music room of both school will play by itself at night."

He made hand gestures as he spoke.

"My friends and I decided to walk towards the old stairway leading to the schools it was 1:00 am at night. We already had our candy from trick or treating and we wanted to investigate whether the stories about the old school were true. Now in the school everything is locked up and there is a gate that is about 30 ft high and no one can enter or leave since the gate covers all around and there is brick that hold it together. It is like a prison cell gate. Anyway, my friends and I decided to walk down the stairs when we started to notice that the school yard seemed to have elongated then as we approached the middle we started hearing loud drums and instruments in both the elementary school and the intermediate school we ended up running back up the stairs to be safe. We came back to the steps and decided to talk but out of nowhere we noticed that one of the portable lights that was white in color turned to red instantly and it freaked us all out we decided to wait and see what happened."

The class huddled closer together as we continued to listen. The embers of the fire twirled, almost helping our companion to narrate his story.

"What happened amazed us because we looked at the gates where no one can enter or leave and saw a misty white figure looked like a girl and heard a loud scream asking for help. My friends and I decided to go down and see if we could help and when we got to the middle of the school yard we started to hear laughing and we stopped in out tracks. It wasn't a pleasant laugh it was an evil malicious laugh and it brought us goose bumps. To our amazement we ended up running back to the stairwell as fast as we could because something didn't feel right. We ran to the nearest park and decided to calm down. After awhile, we went back to see the school before going home. It was around 2:15 a.m. and the red light was gone and everything was back to normal."

We shuddered. If the tale were told on a sunny day at the beach, then we would all be laughing at how ridiculous it sounded. But there was something bone chilling about hearing a ghostly encounter by the fire on a camping trip. We heard more of these stories and the vengeance of an island goddess before the adults began to get restless.

Mr. Buchanan left with our two companions to plan the rest of our retreat. We only had one more day before returning to the institute. Many of the students were already getting ready for bed. I stood up to stretch, smelling the scent of ash on my skin. I ruffled my hair a little to wake myself up. Joe started laughing hysterically and glared his look of mischief in my direction. Bobby whispered something in Damien's ear and he smiled viciously.

"Hey Ethan," Damien called out.

I turned my head in his direction to show that I was listening.

"We got you something from the store today."

Bobby began to giggle contagiously. The other students became curious. Damien was rummaging through a bag. He pulled out something white and then tossed to me.

"What is this?"

It felt like nylon.

"Just take a look," Joe squealed.

I unfolded the white nylon material. It was a thong, a male thong.

Damien laughed, "You can wear it when you sleep in my sleeping bag tonight."

The rest of the students roared with him. He gave Joe and Bobby a high five. I remembered the time my parents caught a girl in Lee's bedroom past midnight. They were in their underwear and my parents were not very thrilled. I had woken up to the sounds of a harsh lecture. I came downstairs to find Lee sitting on the couch in our living room with his hands on his face, his elbows on his knees. The girl was crying. My parents told their first born, about the woes of pre-marital sex. But they also apologized for their intrusion on something that was meant to be special.

"Just because I won't put out doesn't give you the right to sexually harass me," I said calmly.

Everyone became quiet and stared at me.

"Man, it's only a joke," Joe broke the silence.

Damien rubbed his knee. I could picture his aggressive seduction during the carnival, and I could feel his desperate grasps from last night. I really was just another plaything for the infamous playboy. I rubbed the mark that he left on my neck.

"Look Ethan. You've just got to relax. It's no big deal. And plus you've already rejected me twice," Damien protested.

Joe gave me his inquisitive glance, "What's up with the rejection? Damien not good enough for you or is this a religious thing?"

I shook my head. Max stood.

"None of you get it, do you?"

Everyone's attention was now on Max. He had this intense look in his eye.

"Ethan knew that all you wanted from him was just a fuck. You probably never even had a real conversation with him. He wanted you to get to know him. He wanted more than you offered..."

I started to wonder if Max was still talking about me, or himself. He had authentic feelings for someone who couldn't return them. His feelings came from the physical contact that he had with the older student. When my father found Lee with his girlfriend in his room that night, he told him that casual sex is dangerous not just because of STDs or pregnancy, but because of the mixed up feelings involved. It's hard to tell reality from truth when everything you were taught about love included physical intimacy. Body language can be stronger than words. Max sniffled and then quickly walked away. Damien turned to me.

"I'm really sorry Ethan I didn't know..."

I looked at him solemnly and nodded.

"Talk to Max. He really needs you."

It was his turn to nod, and he followed Max. The rest of the class was quiet under the glittering stars and shadowing palm trees. But after a few seconds they began to apologize. We carried out a small conversation before I decided to walk down the beach.

There was breeze that came with the soothing waves. The sand felt cool as it grained through my toes. I started to think about various people back home. One of them was Mrs. Cassidy. When my parents died she did her best to take care of my brother and I. She arranged the funeral and held us while we cried ourselves over the graves. Probably one of the strongest women I have ever known, she grew up in an orphanage and met the future principle of our school in a diner. They had one child who grew up too quickly and moved out of town with his own family. Mrs. Cassidy was lonely till my family moved next door when I was only a baby. She would baby-sit me when my parents were working and my brother was in school. She told me stories about Greek and Roman mythology and even show me paintings of the naked gods. She was my mother's confidante and mother figure. We would have Thanksgiving at her home with her son's family. One of her grandchildren was a boy my age and we would play while the adults prepared the food. After the accident Mrs. Cassidy again felt lonely without my mother. But she held on to those memories and made a promise to take care of us till we grew up. Lee suggested that we give her something before we left to Hawaii. With the help of a few friends, we finished the portrait my mother was making of herself and Mrs. Cassidy before she died. Mrs. Cassidy fell on her knees in tears when she saw the canvas. A few days ago she sent me a letter telling me about her new neighbors. They were a nice and loud Spanish family who always brought her food before dinner. She misses us and wrote that we should visit her during the holidays. I placed her letter in my drawer along with the pictures, notes, cards and jewellery of my parents and Lee. It was a place only meant for family.

While staring at the crescent of the golden moon, someone tapped my shoulder. Startled I turned around to see the broad shoulders of Damien. He was wearing a sleeveless white shirt. His biceps flexed as he placed his hands in his pockets.

"I talked to Max."

I smiled and rubbed the smoothness of my skin.


He looked into my eyes directly.

"I told him what I told you on Saturday. That I was only looking for a good time. And I also told him that it was wrong for someone my age to be with someone his age. I could go to jail."

I nodded.

"I'm his age," I laughed.

The seriousness of his face relaxed.

"But you're worth going to jail for."

My face blushed in the darkness. I removed my eyes from his and glanced at his feet. He was wearing brown leather sandals. He moved closer to me and placed his right hand on my shoulder. I looked into his face. His lips.

"Can I ask you something Ethan?"

I bit my lower lip.

"You already did."

He sighed, smiling brightly.

"I want to know if you're free on the weekend or something."

He came closer to face me.

"I might be working..."

His left hand went on my other shoulder.

"How about after work?"

I scratched my elbow.

"Ok. Why?"

His hands moved together to the sides of my face.

"Good. Maybe we can watch a movie or eat out."

I cast my eyes down.

"I don't have any money."

He pulled me even closer.

He whispered, "Relax Ethan. I'm asking you out on a date."

Before I could give him a reaction he pulled my face to his. My nose lightly hit his cheek. His mouth was partly opened and smelled like pineapple. His lips were soft and wet. His hands gently clasped my face. My own hands were pulling at the sides of his shirt. It's hard to describe the feeling of being kissed. I guess I can compare it to getting angry and losing all self control. Damien breathed hard and plunged his tongue deep into my mouth. It played with my own tongue. They danced and swirled. My mouth enclosed his. Damien breathed harder. His kisses sounded more and more desperate. He was leaning on me. He gave my lips a small kiss before pulling out, rapid breathing.

"Damn. You know I could rape you right now?"

His hands reached for my jeans, but then he immediately stopped.

"I'm sorry. Can't seem to control myself. It's just... you are so fucking hot. I can't promise you anything. It's not in my nature to be in that kind of relationship. But I do want to get to know you."

I nodded.

"You're different from the other guys Ethan. You're special."

His hands reached my face, pulled me closer again and gave me a small gentle kiss.

"But one thing, " he said, "Don't tell anybody about this."


"Because I don't want people interfering with my business. People in our school are screwed up and they like screwing things up."

I nodded.

"Damien. I don't want to end up like Max. He's a nice guy but he was led on to believe that..."

He placed his fingers on my lips.

"Don't worry."

His soft brown eyes were reassuring. I wondered about him. Who was Damien really? Was he the guy everyone looked up to at Montega Academy? Or was he this guy who was standing in front of me? I wondered if I could ever figure him out.

I slept in a separate tent that night. Everyone was tired from today's activities and they all dreamed soundly. Damien stayed in the tent with the other Gold members, Max and Eric. Mr. Buchanan had instructed that we get as much sleep because there would be some rigorous workout to get home tomorrow. He was being mysterious about it but we yawned and agreed.

We were woken up the next morning for our `surprise'. We were told to wear our swim gear and to leave our belongings by the benches near the large tree behind our tents. They would be transported safely to the school later that day while we went on our next activity. After we got ready we walked towards the beach and saw several canoes and muscular Hawaiian men by the water. Mr. Buchanan told us that our two companions were associated with the Hawaiian Canoe Experience. It's a program for tourists in Maui to see the islands through canoes called outriggers.

"These fiberglass outriggers are nothing like the ones our ancestors used. Their canoes were made of trees and bark and were incredible works of art."

These boats were more than just transportation to these people centuries ago. They were as beautiful as the island and were created to honor everything they were given, from the fruits on the trees to the fish in the sea. We were told that we would paddle our way back to the closest beach to our school.

Mr. Buchanan said, "This whole Spiritual retreat was about looking beyond the pleasures we were given. The bus ride, the hike, the village, the horses, the temple ruins, the camp and now the canoes are all part of living a simple life. The students of Montega are usually blessed with wealth and this retreat was about taking a look back. Taking a look beyond Hawaii as a tourist location and seeing it for what it really is. It's a place full of cultural aestheticism where people live in jungles and use walking, horses and canoes as means of transportation. Yes there is multi-cultural locations, but they are still part of the urban setback that all of you are just so used to living in. Now while you're paddling to our destination, reflect on the hardships that people around the world go through. Reflect on your own hardships. Reflect on your family, friends, peers and everything that makes you who you are. There is so much more to this world than money can ever get you."

Paddling was much harder than I thought it would be. One must fight the tides of the ocean and able to move at steady rhythm with other members of the canoe. The sun was merciless, and the heat reflected from the waters. Splash. Row. This is how it was. I thought about everything I had gone through in the last couple of years. I thought about my father's butterfly collection. I thought about my mother's hugs. I thought about Lee's career. I thought about Mrs. Cassidy and her new neighbors. I thought about Damien. Splash. Row. My legs were squished. Wet. Our strength drained quickly. It felt like hours. I grasped the paddle tightly as I pushed through the rippling water. My flesh moaned in exertion. My muscles cried out. Splash. Row.

"That was single handedly the worst experience of my life," Joe said in exasperation.

He lay on his stomach. The sand felt like silk. We were exhausted. The students of Mr. Buchanan's social ethic's class were scattered all over the beach. Collapsed. We felt like the life was sucked out of us.

Bobby attempted a giggle, "I guess you had fun too."

We moaned. Everything hurt.

After we were rested, our rotting school bus came to pick us up. One of the school staff members was driving it. He laughed when he saw us. Dirty. Tired. Pooped. The way back home was nice and the breeze of the moving vehicle helped relieve physical tension in our young and abused muscles. Ms. Danvers was waiting for us at the main entrance of our school. We were all anxious to take our warm baths and much needed sleep. But there was something in the student advisor's eyes that held something serious and deep. Damien told the class that she was probably here to congratulate us and also talk about the new student in our school. This new student held significant importance to the institute. His name was Timmy. Timmy Montega. He was the adopted son of the founder of the school, Carlo Montega. Damien had seen Timmy's profile and that he was as ugly as sin. The class laughed. But we had to be really nice to the guy just because of who his father was.

However, as we approached the school, we realized that the look on Ms. Danvers' face had nothing to do with the new student. She walked up to us with a sad look on her face.

"I'll be brief. Before you enter the school, I have news to tell you all. A student had committed suicide on the day you left on your trip. He jumped off his dorm room balcony and his body was found hours after you departed."

"Who?" one student asked.

We all stood, holding ourselves.

"Kyle Pennington."

Everyone gasped. I looked around me to see the horrified faces of my peers. Joe stood silent. Unmoving. Bobby had tears in his eyes and seemed ready to burst. Eric looked scared. Damien clenched his teeth. Veins appeared along the side of his forehead. I was sympathetic. I knew what it was like to lose someone to death. But I didn't know who this person was.

His name was familiar. I think I had met him during my first week at this school. I realized that I had only been here for a week and a half. Though I never really knew him, Kyle Pennington's death would have a great impact on my school year and possibly my life.