Date: Tue, 12 Nov 2013 06:45:42 -0800
From: Bain Taylor <dozedaze@gmail.com>
Subject: Bending Straight Lines, Chapter 4

Bending Straight Lines
By Bain Taylor
Copyright 2013

*All disclaimers posted in chapter 1 apply to the entire story.

**Thanks for reading!  Sorry for the long delay, I was a real slow-poke
with this one.

I should note that my original plan was to just do three chapters.  But a
few really cool readers suggested that I go one or two longer.  So I
listened :) Anyway, I sorta had to do a 'fast forward' in this one, because
I wanted to bring the boys up to the big track show-down without making
Bending Straight Lines a super long snore, lol. I'll fill in some of the
missing time though.  The other thing is that the sex in this one is VERY
graphic.  I need to work on toning that stuff down I think.  Ugh.

Thanks for putting up with me.  Cheers, bain.

Chapter 4

I don't think I've ever gone running into the night, with nothing but the
moonlight to show me the way.  As I bound forward, I found myself having to
pay constant attention to where my feet were landing; it was dark enough so
that it would have been easy to take a nasty fall, and one misplaced foot
into a pot-hole, or a half-blind trip over a fallen tree branch and it
would have been lights out.

There was an eerie gentle breeze brushing across my skin, and it felt like
the chill from a deep cavern, moaning its cold breath up through the earth
to summon the fading dusk.  And at times, when the moon became blocked by a
passing cloud, my route would darken enough so that I'd have to nearly
crawl to a jog until the blackout ended.  I wasn't exactly sure why I'd
come looking for John - it was pure instinct - and I had no idea what to
say even if I did get lucky enough to find him. But I ignored my thoughts
and the strange supernatural cries of the forest, and I forced images of
ravaged bears and stalking mountain lions from my mind, and just kept
going.

A few miles into my search, I spotted him, and he was settled up on a huge
granite boulder flinging little pieces of whatever his fingers could find
in the moonlight, off into the shadows.  The cast from the moon was hitting
his red hair at the perfect angle, and he would have been impossible to
miss with a glow like that.

The Rock he was sitting on was the size of a small cabin, and there was no
way to climb up there from the road, so I had to walk around, where I found
that there were a few crevises that made semi-decent foot-holds for the
climb up.  Though I did nearly lose my traction at one point near the top,
and came close to slipping all the way back down.

He had seen me as I'd approached, so it's not like I was sneaking up on him
or anything, but it was a strange feeling, not knowing what to expect after
his show of emotions to Ryan.

I shuffled over next to him and sat without saying a single word.  I know
that when something is bothering me, the last thing I want to do is to talk
with someone. So I just sat there like a mute for a good ten minutes,
looking out at the dimly lit trees as they swayed with the breeze.

And then in a really quiet voice he says, "I take it that the zit kid told
you what I said."

I dug my heel down on the rock and pushed off some loose granite.

"Um, I'm not sure if he told me everything - just that you didn't like him
thinkin' he could go kissin' around on me any old time."

He sighed.

"Yeah, I surprised myself when all that came out. It was just me being
defensive, because it's like me and you are hittin' it off pretty good and
I don't want some punk freak fucking it up, you know?  So don't go reading
anything else into it that's not there."

I guess I couldn't blame him, I'd've denied it all too.  And no way he'd
admit he had tears in his eyes when he'd run off.  No way.

"Nah, I wouldn't.  The whole fake kiss thing was a stupid idea. I wish I
could take it all back."

"Dude, no worries.  I know it was for a good cause, and shit, I mean if
James got a little reality punched into his messed up head it's gonna all
go down good."

He ran his fingers through his hair - as he thought.

"So Ryan gave you the ugly on how I did it?"  I asked, knowing he knew.

"Yep.  Voodoo, he called it.  It was the Disney version, but I caught the
concept."

"Yeah, well I took things kinda far.  Doin' that to a dude's rubber is
pretty low - like, I sorta regret it already.  I mean, if she got pregnant
that could totally alter his life and her's - forever. I could have found
some other way.  But me?  Noooo.  I just happily poked holes the thing like
I was doing embroidery."

He did this sort of chuckled laugh through his freckled nose.

"Hmm, well, if I'd been a better sport about it, we could've finished the
job..."

"Finished?"  I asked.

"Yeah, you know, scared that freakish party crowd away in a way they'd
never want to come back."  He said.

I grinned at the thought of it.

"Hmm," I started, "I'm glad you didn't.  One Mission Impossible episode was
enough for me.  By the way, did you know that if you're really good at
stealing things from people's duffle bags, you can munch out at the same
time as part of your cover?  I inherited the thief gene from my grandpa,
you know."

Of course it was more of a private joke to myself, and he looked at me like
I had lost him.

So we sat up there talking like that for a long time - like a couple of
hours I think.  I didn't really care about the time since I didn't have to
worry about getting home at some crazy hour and waking up grandma. I Just
liked getting to know him better.  A lot of people think that when guys
have a mysterious side to them that it makes them sexier.  But not with
John.  The better I got to know him, the more I knew he was the one for me.
He gets hotter everytime I'm with him.  And you know what?  So what if he's
a whack-job.  I like him that way.  Of course maybe I'm losing it, but it's
not like certain thoughts hadn't occured to me.  I mean, he'll never like
me back.  But I guess that's the world I've chosen for myself.  And I guess
I just don't care.

We ended up taking the run further up the road, near the place where we'd
made the turn to the water tower structure.  But that trail would have been
too dark to navigate, so we stuck to the wider logging road.

Eventually we wound up back at the barn.  By then, the bonfire was just a
bunch of smoldering embers, and everyone had gone home except for a few
guys that John had said usually stay over and go directly from there to
their schools, the same as I was planning on doing the next morning.

When we got inside the barn it was pretty dark.  The only light was coming
from the TV, which was on with the sound turned off. And you could see
silhouettes of guys crashed out on the ground with whatever blankets or
spare sleeping bags that Troy must have had laying around.

My sleeping bag was a casualty, but John's bed was spared from being
over-taken by someone else, so me and him changed out of our clothes and he
unfolded the futon quietly.  It looked like everyone was asleep by then,
and I'd guess that there were six or seven guys on the floor, scattered
around in random sleep arrangements.  I couldn't tell who was in Troy's or
James' beds, but there were bodies under the covers that I assumed were
theirs.  I was glad that James was asleep.  He was the last person I wanted
to see.  It wouldn't have been a good time to deal with guilt.

Since John had gone all the way down to the bare butt buff to sleep, I
decided not to be a shy geek, and I did the same.  It's not like I hadn't
been around him that way, afterall, so hey; when in Rome.

We were both still pretty hot and sweaty from our run, but taking a shower
just seemed like too much work for that hour of the night.  So I just got
under the single cover and laid on my side facing away from him.  I guess
it was a stratigic move, since just the quick look I'd gotten of his naked
body flickering in the lights of the TV had me sporting wood.  Sometimes I
wonder why I even try.  I mean, I'm not such a bad person, right?  Why do I
have to get so worked up every time some incredible looking dude is within
100 yards of me?

Why?

I think that if Darwin were still alive, he'd want to interview me to see
if I fit in with his theories on mutations.  We'd probably even get to be
good friends.  He could write a sequel book about my freakish erections,
and give it a catchy title, like, 'The Origin of Tepees' and release it
during the Indian Summer. I'd be totally famous, and I could go on all the
talk shows with a 'tent' in my pants as a way to promote the book and
demonstrate my particular mutation.

Ok, maybe not.

So anyway, like, ten minutes goes by and I can't sleep, and I'm figuring
John is out like a light.

Wrong.

All of a sudden I hear him whisper:

"Dude, if you keep that tight little bubble puff pointed at me much longer,
my dick is going to play your butt cheeks like a violin."

Great, he was being an alpha male.  I'd read all about them, and you can
never be too careful.

"Um, it gets even worse on the other side of me." I whispered back.  And
that was probably the wrong thing to say to a dare devil.

He moved his hand away from my shoulder.

And then I felt this movement on the bed, and there was this noise that I
couldn't make out.  Then the hand came back to my shoulder again, and he
scrunches up to me.  And it's there - his huge hard dick - all slippery
with something on it, and it's wedged between my butt cheeks.

My heart and my cock were both caught off guard, and they fluttered at
something they'd never felt before.

His chin came to my shoulder, and I could feel him breathing on the back of
my neck.

Ok, so I was wrong, I LOVE alpha males.  I take everything back.

"A violin.  Like this," he explains, as he slips his hand down around my
hard-on, and starts to stroke on it, "and this," he adds, as he starts
sliding his swollen hardness all the way up, and all the way back.

"Oh my God," I muffle into my pillow.

I was paralyzed instantly; unable to think.  My only existance suddenly
became his hand and my hardness. Everything else faded away.

His strong hand tightened on my hard-on, and it surged againt his powerful
grip. Minutes began to tick like a time bomb: The rhythm of his imitated
thrusts behind me; his hot breaths at my neck; the stroking between my
legs; the feeling of someone else controlling me; it wasn't possible to
feel like that.  It was overwhelmingly awesome.

"People will hear us."  I barely managed to utter.

"Good."  He says in a low-voiced whisper.

"People will SEE us."  I say.

"Let them."

And his hand was relentless, and I wanted to say stop.

"Dude..."  I pleaded...

"Tell me to stop, and I will."  He pants.

And I can't say stop.  I try, but no words come out.  I swear it.

His cock head, slippery and angry with lust, was pushing against a new
place now, and it felt like his whole arm trying to enter me.  His hand
released my throbbing dick and moved to my waist, pulling, as his hardness
pushed.  And it happened.  His entire mushroom head was inside of me.
Inside of me!!

"Fuck."  He hissed; shocked by the tightness he'd found.

He waited.  Another minute ticks off.

And then I felt another inch disappear into me, and I strained to turn,
just enough to see the desperate look on his face, fighting to hold back,
yet fighting to go deeper. I looked straight ahead again, panting at the
new sensations.

"I think... I want you... on... all... fours" He says, stumbling through
breaths.

It wasn't a question; but more like an instruction.  A sexy, hot
instruction. And with my body ready to expload in a brand new level of
ecstacy, I let myself become the object of his exhibition - his addiction -
his passion of the dare.  .  Now, anyone who may have been awake would know
what we were doing - there would be no hiding. I'd be completely exposed to
the church boys.  I pulled away; over to my stomach, and from that position
up to all fours; the bed cover had slipped half-way off of me. The TV light
was now flickering on the front half of my naked body, and my fingers
grabbed tightly at the edge of the bed.

He moved to his knees behind me, pulling the cover the rest of the way off
of me, and then he placed both hands on my narrow waist. Before I could
protest, and now in a sudden wave of exposed panic, he was inside of me
again. This time deeper, and he was more urgent; caring less, and his giant
cock was slipping ever deeper until finally, there was nothing touching the
smooth nakedness of my butt, other than his hot lust-filled balls.

He leans forward, all the way to my ear, and in a primitive, gutteral rasp,
says:

"I'm gonna shoot so much cum up this tight ass that it's gonna permanenty
fuck up your DNA."

My cock expanded, like it wanted to bust free of its own skin.  My heart
went balistic.

I felt torn apart, and pain conflicted with insane pleasure as his fist
found my cock again, and started stroking it.  And then... on a cloud of
lust, I felt my virginity evaporate into thin air the very instant he
started to thrust.

They were long, slow movements, all the way out, and then all the way back
in.

Another minute ticked off.  And he started doing it harder and faster.

"Oh FUCK!" escapes from his mouth, and it was loud - loud enough for
everyone in the barn to hear - loud enough to awaken even the soundest of
sleepers.

My panic worsened, and my euphoria surged to a new level along with it.

"Oh my GOD!"  I heard myself gasp.

A light switched on from somewhere over on the sawdust floor, and the beam
hit our heaving bodies.  There was silence from the shadows.  The beam was
from a flashlight, and we were suddenly illuminated.  I felt John lean back
up, and now he was a smoldering piston, fucking me for every tempted eye in
the room to watch. Now he had an audience.  Now he was on fire.

"Dude... Oh MAN!"  He moaned.

There was movement from James' bed.  And Troy's covers rustled.

He was plowing into me so hard, that my arms were inching forward, ever
closer to the edge of the bed.

"Devon....!!" He moans.

His huge cock plunges deep, and he holds it there, freezing time for an
instant. His time. Knowing they were watching.  He was memorizing his fear
- feeling it overtake his body.  Not wanting it to leave.

My hair is hanging in front of my eyes with sweat dripping, and he starts
plowing me again, and this time it's still faster, and it felt like I'd
burst into flames, not caring who saw me burn.  It no longer
mattered. Nothing mattered.

In the darkness, a shawdow of someone is sitting up, watching.  And then
another one. They are talking.  Mumbled words.

"Dude, I'm gonna CUM!"  John gasps through a loud throaty rasp.

I no longer feel any pain at all, and he starts shooting off inside of me -
hard - and he's grunting like an animal now, and I swear to god I feel the
blasts as he begins to shoot everything out of himself, and into me.

Sometime during his fury he'd released my throbbing cock, and it was
hanging freely below me; close to shooting off as it bounced in the steam
from our rocking bodies.

And I start to shoot.  And my jaw drops as I pant for air. And then another
shot blasts the bed.

The only sound I can make is:

 "uh....uh....uh....uh....uh," with each of his powerful thrusts.  And I
feel my butt cheeks clamp around his cock so tightly that nothing could
escape the trap.

Nothing.

The bed feels like a trampoline under my knees, and more seconds tick off
as I contiune to shoot the biggest load of my life. The bomb exploaded; my
mind with it.

And finally: The slowing of our pounding hearts, and it was over.  And
there was nothing but heavy breathing.

And I didn't care who saw me.  I didn't.

***

It seemed like the next few months flew by so fast after that day - the day
me and John became something more than friends.  And since then, the
friendship had only gotten more intense, more daring, and more erotic.  It
was crazy, and life was pretty amazing.  So what, if he had no idea that he
was almost like my boyfriend?  And so what, if we'd never kissed once over
the course of those months?  And so what, if he didn't love me?  I liked
him more than anyone I'd ever liked, and I didn't care about any of that
other lousy stuff.

And so there I was, with track season winding down, and the State
Sectionals just around the corner.  And I was a mess.  But I had
somehow-sorta managed to partially block John from my constant thoughts,
and settle back down into a somewhat normal routine, despite myself.  I
still loved to run, but most things had changed about me.  I'm still not
sure if that's good or bad.

I guess I could lie and say that going to my classes after all of that had
been same ol' same ol', but the truth is that people knew who I was now.
Word travels fast at Grant, and if you are seen as popular or as a high and
mighty jock, you are a celebrity, which sucks, by the way.

Anyway, today is a Friday, and I'm ready for a weekend away from the head
games of school. After track practice I met up in the locker room with
Troy, as usual.  He's one of those guys that likes to stay naked as long as
possible so people can see how hot he is, and that's how he was just then -
semi-wet, and naked.  But even when he's not naked, he eats things like
apples at lunch, so he gets lots of chances to flex every time he brings it
up to his mouth to take a bite. Not that I'm complaining, but it can be
very distracting - nakedness and muscles.  And as I stood there gawking
like a starved baby egret, I was seriously wishing he'd invite me to the
equipment shack again.  John would understand, right?

But he didn't ask me, and seeing him all hot looking like that was good
enough, so there'd be no complaints from me.

"Have you heard from James lately?  I haven't seen him today."  I said, as
I moved my eyes from his body to his eyes.

"I talked to him this morning.  Saw him in trig.  Not much has changed with
him.  You know how he's been lately. I mean he's still not his same old
freaky self after all that went down with the busted rubber thing."

"Yeah, I've noticed."  I said.

"Yep, so he's got this giant hole in his life now.  I guess after the
girl's daddie found all that shit out, it didn't matter that his baby girl
wasn't preggers.  And getting booted from the church like that isn't
something he's gonna get over anytime soon.  So we just need to take it
easy on the dude for like, ever I guess."

None of that was anything I didn't already know.  And I really didn't need
to be reminded of it.

"I wonder if he'll be hangin' at the barn this weekend?"  I asked.

"Yeah, he said he'd be there.  But don't expect any parties.  I do sort of
miss that he's retiring from all of that whacked stuff though.  It's both
good and bad, you know?"

"What's the bad part?

"Dude, it was always a guaranteed lay for me.  Now I have to work for it."

"Yeah, right.  Bullshit.  You know you got the goods, and all you gotta do
is throw a few crumbs and cheerleaders appear like frickin' holograms out
of nowhere.  There's a mirror on your locker door right behind you, take a
look and you'll know what I'm talkin' about."

He smiled.  He loves compliments, and sometimes they even get him hard, so
what can I say?

"Anyway, you probably don't know this, but apparently he has a new girl he
likes.  I mean, as in likes a lot."

"Do I know her?"  I asked.

"I doubt it, she's sorta quiet - like the chick in the Hunger Games.  And
he knows she could snap him like a twing if he gets too close to her arrow
pouch.  But I mean, at least it's a distraction, and he's a little less
fucked up.  So keep your fingers crossed, and maybe he'll make a come-back
from his sorry-ass depressed self.  He's starting to bring me down with
him."

About then, John comes up behind Troy, and puts his forearm on his shoulder
and leans against Troy's unmoveable hard body.  He's wearing a towel, and
he'd done a crappy job drying off.

"We still goin' with the plan for after school?" He asks me.

"I'm up," I said, "my grandma gave me the nod again.  She's a liberal you
know."

John smiled and shook his head at how lucky I was to have so few limits
placed on me.

"Plan?"  Troy asked.

"Yep, me and Wonder Boy are gonna camp out at 'Oh Fuck Tower' for a night
or two," John said casually, and as if it were the most normal thing in the
world to do.

I'd never heard him call the water tower that before.

"Got it," Troy says, "sounds like a nice honeymoon.".

"Kiss my ass."  John said.

Troy blew off the insult.  He didn't know it, but he had a 'semi' from my
earlier compliment.  The two of them standing together like that was having
an affect on me.  So I just took deep breaths.

"So I'm not sure if we got enough food up there stashed," he said, "but
there's everything else you'd need.  If you wanna stop by and raid my mom's
kitchen, she'd go ape.  She loves to help us 'boys' you know."

"We're all over that."  John says back.

"Um, can I ask a question?" I ask, "but did I miss something?  I mean,
that's the name of the water tower?  'Oh Fuck Tower'?  Like, it's a sorta
cool name, but does it mean something?"

The two look at each other and laugh - and I mean a gut-busting laugh.

So Troy says, "'Oh Fuck' are the only two words Johnny boy had time to yell
the very first time we climbed up to the top - the day I shoved him over
the edge of the platform. Those two words echoed the forest, as me and
James watched his sorry ass flail at gravity, and plummet to the water.
Until then, we didn't even know how deep it was."

John shook his head.

"I've got both of them back for it, at least 10 times over."  he said, as
if he had to lick the wound, "but the name 'Oh Fuck Tower' stuck."

I tried to imagine John flailing, saying those words as he fell helplessly
into the unknown, like a dude without a parachute.  I wish I could have
seen it.

"So dudes," Troy says, changing the subject back to James, "we need to get
James back in the program if we're gonna bring it on for the Sectionals
next week.  It's like he doesn't even want to try when he's in a race these
days.  I don't think his new girl will be enough to get him stoked up."

"So we need to do something sorta fast."  John added.

I nodded in agreement.

"Well," I suggested, "he likes to control things.  I was thinking we could
get him to take charge of finances for the frat house remodel stuff.  Like
maybe organizing a car wash, or doing a sponsored mountain race or
something. You know, to bring in money.  He'd get off on that I think."

"Dude, that's fucking brilliant."  Troy said.

"Aw man, I knew you were good for something." John says to me.

"Fuck off." I replied with a grin, as I shoved his slippery arm.

So that's how the conversation went, and maybe the James plan would work,
and maybe it wouldn't.  But it was worth a try.  I had a few ideas on how
we could make it all seem like his idea, and not ours.  I know that's
sneaky, but apparently I'm a condom thief and a sex junky, so I guess
sneaky comes natually to me.

Sigh.

Anyway, I'd skipped the showers, and none of the other guys on the team
said a word about it.  Troy had mentioned that he might miss meeting up
with us at the barn, 'cause he'd found some deal on used weight lifting
equipment he wanted to pick up for the frat pad.  He said that he'd call
ahead and let his step mom know we'd be raiding the kitchen for our getaway
to the woods. And he'd asked if he and James, and some dude he knows from
the basketball team could come up and say hey after we'd settle down at the
tower.  Of course all of that was cool with me and John, although the idea
of us being alone the whole time would have been equally cool.

After that I'd gotten my pack and followed John over to his locker, and we
talked as he got dressed.  My plan was to skip going home to the trailer
altogether, and instead go directly to the barn with John for an early
start on the weekend.

As we made our way to John's car, I couldn't stop thinking about 'Oh Fuck
Tower', I mean, maybe it should be named that for other reasons.

It's normal of me to think that, right?

When we got to the frat barn, we were the first ones there. But supposedly
James was going to be coming along at any time. Really, the only thing we
had to do before heading out, was to make a quick stop at the main house,
so that's where we headed right off the bat.

It was a pretty short walk over there, and within a few minutes we were on
the front porch looking at the massive double doors. I was the one that
spotted the doorbell button hidden in a giant ivy covered pillar, which was
actually nowhere near the door itself.  So I gave it a push, and waited.
I'd felt good about my discovery, 'cause I hate to knock, you know.

Anyway, we hear the sound of clicking heels, and she opens the door all
wide-eyed, like we were trick or treaters or something.

"Well if it isn't one and a half of my six favorite quarters.  I's
expectin' ya'll.  Just follow me this way to the kitchen."  She said.

We'd walked through the living area first, and I didn't get to see much of
the place, but I did notice that it was sorta homey, with a strange mixture
of wild west and Southern charm.  That made me think that Mr. Steinmuller
was a Union man, and that she was the rebel.

I felt a little awkward, standing there in the enormous kitchen, wondering
what to do.  I mean, were we supposed to just have at it, and raid the
cupboards and the refrigerator?  But Troy's mom answered that for me,
'cause it looked like she'd taken the liberty of deciding for us what we'd
be bringing.  And she was just finishing up putting the final touches on
what she'd packed for us.

That's when she made direct eye contact with me.  Which was sort of unusual
for her.  Her eyes penetrated me somehow.

"I must confess to ya'll here on the spot.  Troy let the dirty soap slip
and told me ya'll got yer birthday suit on inside-out.  Not that it's any
of my pay-no-never-mind, but I couldn't have seen it comin' if it were a
truck fulla lie feathers.  And I'd never dream of callin' the queen's choir
queer."

Unfortunately I knew what that meant.  And before I had a chance to say
anything, John spoke up.

"It's not like that Mrs. Steinmuller.  Devon's just in an awkward teenage
stage that we all go through, and me and the boys like him fine the way he
is."

I wasn't expecting to hear such an admission from John, and I was
practically knocked to the floor by it.

Troy's mom cleared her throat, and directed her sweet southern homophobe
daggers at me to go in for the kill.

"I have me a little ol' cousin who did herself a half-baked back-stroke
down the wrong river of passion once way back wheyin.  Yet she was able to
make it to shore safely however, and ya'll can just imagine the devil's mad
for it.  But it was a stuggle for her - bein' hetero after that, and the
evil never quite left her completely."

I took a deep breath.

"Is she happy now that she's almost better?" I asked, not knowing what else
to say.

"As a clam in alfredo sauce darlin', and she's practically pure as driven
snow these days.  But her swimin' career's a relic of the past, and any
wayward lust lunges are done dried up due to advanced age, bless her
heart."

"Well then there's hope for me Mrs. Steinmuller, I appreciate your kind
thoughts.  I'm sure I'll wash ashore one day."  I forced myself to say.

She handed us each a medium sized bag of whatever kind of food she'd put
together for us.

I was horrified.  I'd never directly been called an evil queer before.  And
what was even more disturbing was that she'd said it in such an effortless
and polite way.  And she wasn't finished.

"Ya'll can see I'm easier to talk to than alphabet soup, so tug my ear
lobes and loosen yer mind-load any 'ol time, I'm a good list'ner, and I've
made even the stubbornest stains shine up like a brand new penny." She
added, as she gave the dagger a final twist.

"I'll do that Ma'am."  I said, "and thank you for the trail food.  You're
the best."  I choked out.

She batted her enormous eye lashes, and wiggled her fingers at us as we
turned and made our way to the door.

I was wrong about liking her.  But I'd never say that to Troy.

When we got outside, and when we were halfway between the main house and
the frat barn, I lost it.  I mean, I just hung my head down in battered
shame, and sobbed my eyes out.  I've never cried that hard.

The woman had torn my heart out.  She exposed me as the freak I am, and she
threw in my face how everyone must secretly feel about me.  Those who know.
I'd never be myself again - not ever.

John stopped my slow trek forward by grabbing my arm.

"Dude, listen to me.  Turn off the faucet, Ok?  There's gonna be people
like that all over your ass for the rest of your life and you gotta shrug
that shit off.  Are you hearin' me?"

I shrugged my shoulders.

He keeps going.

"Don't even make me say this... but you're the best thing I've got goin'
right now.  And I don't do 'sap' very well, so you forget this right after
I say it.  But I fuckin' need you.  So suck it up and be strong and dry up
the tears.  I want you to show me that you got enough balls to deal with
shit like that, and I need you to prove I made the right choice when I
decided I want to... be with you."

I nodded, and I smiled through my tears.

"Look at me."  He said.

I looked up.

"So lose the tears.  I'll be right back."

I nodded again.  And he took the bag of food from my hand, along with his,
and headed back to the the main house.

I saw him knock on the door.  And I saw it open.  And I saw him set the
food bags inside.  And words were spoken between him and Mrs. Steinmuller.
I'll probably never know what those words were, but he came back empty
handed.  And it occurred to me - just then - that I loved him.

Weird, right?

***

I hope you liked chapter 4!

I love feedback, because it helps me to know if anyone is actually reading
the story or not. Soooo... if you are so inclined it'd be awesome:
dozedaze@gmail.com

Cheers, bain