Date: Wed, 12 May 2004 23:26:52 GMT
From: Drew <drewseyboy24@excite.com>
Subject: Brad- Part 7

	I dreamed a dream and this is the dream that I dreamed...I was
running through the woods. Something was after me. Whatever it was, it was
fast. I could hear its rapid footfalls behind me, just out of sight. I was
breathless, the cold night air stinging my lungs as I heaved for air. I
just kept running and running. I could hear the sounds of leaves beneath my
feet as I bounded over logs, small streams, scrambling around rocks. Yet I
couldn't seem to catch sight of what was chasing me. I came out of the
woods onto a road. It wasn't a paved road. I was more of a well-defined
trail than a road. I stopped. I could no longer hear what was chasing me. I
put my hands on my knees and bent over, gasping for air. What was it? What
had been chasing me relentlessly through the woods? My curiosity was
getting the better of me. I took a step back towards the woods. As soon as
my feet passed from the grass to the leaves, I heard it again. I heard the
sound of the creature's feet on the leaves. But, when I stepped back onto
the grass, the creature didn't follow. Why could it see me but I couldn't
see it? In fact, I had trouble telling which direction it was coming
from. I don't believe in ghosts, but what else could it have been? I felt
embarrassed when I realized my mistake. Each time I took a step, I heard a
matching sound coming from the dense forest. I had been running from the
echoes of my own footsteps. I was running from something that didn't
exist. Even though no one else was around, I blushed and had to grin. I had
never been in danger all along; I was just running from an imagined
threat. I woke up.
	I just lay in bed, the morning light streaming through the
windows. My mother had already left for work. My father was still asleep. I
didn't know nor did I care where my sister was. It took me a minute to
figure out what day it was. Thursday. Lab day. Why couldn't it be a day
that I didn't have to spend two solid hours in contact with Brad. I needed
room to breathe. I needed to get my brain sorted out. I didn't need him
cluttering it up again with his emotional neediness. But I had to go
because if he came and I didn't, he might see that he truly hurt me and
think that he had destroyed our friendship. I didn't want to give him that
impression. People might be able to accuse me of a lot of things, but being
needy isn't one of them. I kept telling myself that as I drove into the
school parking lot and stopped in my usual space.
	Things were pretty uneventful as the day progressed. Chem lab
wasn't until after lunch. Other than that, I didn't have any classes with
Brad on Thursdays. I didn't see him at all. Maybe he hadn't come. I had
seen Matt, but he didn't notice me. The fateful hour arrived. I walked
in. Cynthia and Samantha were in their places next to us. David and
Marshall were in place on the other side of our table. Brad was nowhere to
be seen. Chem Labs without one's partner are a lot harder, but I think I
would have preferred working alone after all that had happened.
	"Sam, is Brad here today?"
	"I don't know. We usually have econ together, but I don't remember
if he was there or not."
	I sat down, took out my books and started writing something. It was
time for class to start. Brad was never late. Mr. Fulmer got up and started
giving instructions. "As you know from lecture, phenol, when treated with
sulfuric acid, yields both ortho and para phenolsulfonic acids. The ortho
isomer predominates at low temperatures, the para at high temperatures."
	Where was Brad?
	"Phenol is very easily brominated..." Mr. Fulmer continued.
	I looked down at my book. '2,4,6-tribromophenol can be prepared
simply by shaking an aqueous phenol solution with a saturated solution of
bromine and water. See Fig.12.5.'
	What did it mean that Brad was the one of us who didn't show? How
badly did I hurt him?
	"The ortho can be separated from its para isomer by steam
distillation. The ortho isomer is able to form an H-bond intramolecularly,
to produce a chelated ring..." Mr. Fulmer wanted to be sure we didn't screw
this one up. He had a thing for phenols. I think it's because a lot of
pheromones are phenols.
	The door opened. Brad rushed in. Mr. Fulmer was a bit surprised
that his star student was late, but didn't comment. Brad hurried in and put
his books down heavily and crashed into his seat. The look on his face was
horrid. He had clearly been crying, his hair was ruffled, his clothes were
ragged, and he didn't appear to have bathed. Mr. Fulmer paused
mid-sentence.
	"Mr. Morgan? Are you okay?"
	Brad didn't respond. He sat sulkily staring at the table. Every
head in the room was staring at him. This was so out of character no one
could believe it. I looked at him. Who are you? I almost asked out loud. He
yanked open his backpack, took out his books and slammed them on the
table. I felt somewhat over dressed for the occasion. Brad was wearing a
dirty T-shirt with a stretched neckline, paint spattered cargo pants with
no knees, and shoes that the goodwill would have rejected. He gave me the
meanest look I think I've ever gotten. That look hadn't gone unnoticed by
the class either. Since this was an honors elective chemistry class, it was
small and we had all known each other since elementary school. Curiosity
was at a fever to find out what I had done to deserve a look like
that. Mr. Fulmer, mercifully, kept talking.
	"Brad?" I asked, not budging.
	"Fuck you." He said loudly enough that Mr. Fulmer stopped again.
	"Mr. Morgan." He sounded both agitated and concerned. "You know
full well you don't talk like that in class."
	Brad didn't offer an apology. Nor did he look up. Once the
instructions were finished, Mr. Fulmer started putting on his gloves, ready
for battle. I didn't say anything. I got up and went to our station and
started assembling some of the glassware. Everyone else went about his or
her business. I didn't know what to say. What could I say? Brad remained
seated at the table. Mr. Fulmer kept an eye on him- from a
distance. Mr. Fulmer was not just an ordinary chemistry teacher; he also
had been a psychologist before he became a teacher. He was sort of a
resident shrink for us troubled teens. After several years of class, he
also became somewhat of a friend and surrogate parent. One of his flock was
hurting and no one knew why. Except me. The others in the class were
obviously concerned. I was so scared Brad would divulge our secret that I
was shaking a bit. Not a lot, but noticeable to an observant person like
Mr. Fulmer. I decided how best to do the glassware to get the job
done. Brad hadn't moved. I was rather grateful, although it wouldn't be
long before Mr. Fulmer said something to him about it.
	He came to me first.
	"Mr. Gerrish, do you know what's going on?"
	"No, sir."
	"Drew." Does he know I'm lying or is he fishing?
	"I don't know what's bothering him."
	"You've known Brad longer than I have, so I thought you might
know."
	I shook my head. "Sorry."
	He scratched his head and walked away. It wouldn't be the last
question for me. The door opened again. I looked over. It was Miss
Olivetti. She was a biology teacher. 27 year old, trim Italian woman, dark
mysterious eyes, and long bustling black hair. Hot is the only word to
describe Miss Francesca Olivetti. Regardless of your sexual orientation,
she was a work of art. This was her planning period, so she frequently
ventured into the lab to bug us. That was not a problem. But, today,
something was up. She just stood in the door. When she caught Mr. Fulmer's
eye, she motioned him over. He dutifully went. They stepped out into the
hallway. How high can my blood pressure get before I go into cardiac
arrest? Had Matt spilled his guts to her? Surely not. Why would he? Maybe
this had nothing to do with us and was just a cruel coincidence. A few
eternal minutes passed, Mr. Fulmer returned. He seemed unperturbed, so
maybe it didn't have anything to do with us. He walked over toward me. Did
I look guilty of something? He walked passed, not catching my eye. He went
over and started talking to Bryan. Phew. I sense movement behind me. Brad
had decided to join the land of the living. His eyes were boring into the
back of my head as I turned around.
	"What?" I asked, more antagonistically than I had intended. I
winced at the harshness of my words.
	He didn't say anything. His eyes started to tear up. Everybody
turned to watch the spectacle.
	"Calm down," I said trying to sound reassuring, "Whatever it is,
it'll be fine."
	"No, it won't," he whispered through the gathering tears. He
sniffled loudly.
	The door opened. It was Miss Olivetti again. She was half way
across the room when she saw Brad and stopped. She looked over at
Mr. Fulmer who just shrugged, shook his head and mouthed, "I don't know."
	She stood there momentarily chewing on her lip as if trying to
decide whether or not she should intervene, ignore the situation, or turn
around and make a beeline for the door. Being the person she is, the
decided to intervene and stepped between us. We weren't about to fight, so
what was she doing? In fact, I looked as concerned as anybody in the room.
	"Move." Brad said.
	She looked surprised. We all did. Brad was always quiet to the
point of being painfully shy at times so the edge in his voice caught us
all off guard. The bigger surprise was that she did. Miss Olivetti might be
beautiful, but she's got bigger balls that most guys when it comes to going
toe to toe with someone. Her big intelligent eyes kept bouncing back and
forth between the two of us. I stood there with a look of shock on my face,
waiting for whatever was about to come out of his mouth. He just glared at
me as if I was evil incarnate. Normally, the two of us banter back and
forth and keep the lab lively. Now, we appeared to be mortal enemies.
	Miss Olivetti interrupted our staring contest. All lab work had
long since come to a screeching halt.
	"I don't know what happened with you two, but the two of you need
to leave and sort it out before you waste anymore class time. I'll be glad
to talk to you, or I'll take you to a counselor, but you can't stay here
acting like this."
	I moved toward the door, Brad remained rooted in place, his eyes
following my every move. The hatred I saw chilled me to the bone. As I
walked away, he slowly followed me and we walked out into the hallway. Both
teachers followed us out. Slowly, I could hear the sounds of lab work
resuming.
	I looked at Mr. Fulmer. "Is there anywhere Brad and I can talk
alone? I think I may know what's bothering him."
	Brad sneered. "Bastard." He whispered under his breath. Both heard
him and cut their eyes in his direction but said nothing.
	"Sure. You can talk in the bio lab, I'll go back to my lecture room
and you come get me when you're done. Just don't hurt each other or destroy
the lab."
	For a high school teacher, that was a lot of trust to have in
students. She took us to the door, opened it and we walked in. She shut it
and I heard two sets of footsteps walking away. Once the sound of her
footsteps faded away and we heard Mr. Fulmer enter the Chem lab, we looked
at each other. Brad just stood there.
	"I need to go home."
	"No you don't." I said.
	"I never should have said anything to you."
	I didn't object. He took that as me agreeing.
	"I thought you loved me, but you don't or won't love me."
	I kept hearing the words of that priest, 'let him love you.' But I
can't. Part of me wanted to kiss Brad, part of me wanted to rip his face
off. He looked foreign dressed like that. Brad wasn't supposed to look like
that. His usually warm, friendly face was stony and cold; his eyes steel.
	"Brad, I don't know. I don't not love you. I can't give what you
want. Whatever that is."
	"What about our friendship? Can I at least have that?" His eyes
were pleading.
	"Yes."
	He smiled, disbelievingly, but he smiled. My heart
soared. Progress.
	"Do you know what I did yesterday after I left you?"
	"No?" I answered.
	"I sat in the woods and cried. I've never cried like that. You hurt
me damn it." He said, fighting tears for all he was worth.
	I was silent. "I'm sorry?"
	He just stood there. He was frustrated with me. I wasn't going
along. I was supposed to do like in the movies when the guy and the girl
finally find each other at the end and hug and kiss with the snow falling
around them and cue the beautiful music. I, on the other hand, just stood
there. Then the image of Walter Matthau popped in my head saying, "you good
for nothing putz." I couldn't help but smile at that. He thought I was
smiling at him. Brad hesitantly smiled back. Still, his smiled did
something to me. Something different than Matt's. Matt's smile was
beautiful and brought me back to him, but Brad's purely melted my
heart. When Brad smiled, I couldn't help but be happy. Not just a mmmm,
this tastes like real butter kind of happy. This is a swinging from the
light fixtures, singing from a mountaintop kind of happy. This is the kind
of happy that makes you dizzy- that makes all the world a blur. Why
couldn't he be a she- then this wouldn't be a problem...really. I opened up
my arms and he fell into them. I wrapped my arms around him and buried his
face in my chest. The tears came for both of us. After a few minutes, we
broke the embrace.
	"We'd better get back." he said. I agreed.
	We went to Miss Olivetti and informed her that we were finished,
then we went back to the chem lab. The others were busily going about their
various tasks. We just slipped in and went to work. The rest of the time
passed quietly and no one asked any questions beyond, `Are you okay?" They
knew that we had at least reached a truce.
	School let out and I walked outside. It was time for baseball
practice. I'd never watched the team practice, nor had I ever been to one
of our baseball games. Maybe I should go and see it. So, I walked past the
football stadium to the diamond beyond. There was the team in uniform. They
were playing a game. I looked around until I spotted Matt. He was next up
to bat. He stepped up to the plate. Swung. Crack. The ball sailed away like
a white rocket. The other players ran around in the general direction the
ball was going. Oh, shit. It was coming towards me. I watched the ball as
it came toward me. I was in no danger. I looked over at Matt; he was too
far away for me to see his face. Not having a glove, I wasn't going to
attempt to catch it. It fell about five feet away from me and rolled a few
extra feet and came to a stop. I walked over and tossed it back to the
eager players. They threw it and Matt was out. Oops. He was close enough
now that I could tell he wasn't pleased that I'd come. I slinked away in
the direction of the parking lot. Once there, Brad was waiting for me. Was
this day ever going to end?
	I just stood there. I give up. I don't know what else to do.
	"Thank you..." He said.
	"For what?"
	"Being honest. I don't know why, but you won't love me."
	"I do."
	He looked confused.
	"You do?"
	"Yeah. I do."
	He didn't just smile his sheepish little smile. He grinned, ear to
ear. Every tooth in his head saw daylight; his eyes sparkled and
twinkled. I had just made him the happiest human being on the face of the
planet. Go figure. At least someone's day brightened.
	"Really?" He was as excited as a kid at Christmas. He almost jumped
at the word.
	"Calm down." I said. "We're in public." He managed to contain
himself. I hoped he remained this convinced of my love. I can be daft and
difficult at times- as if you the reader hadn't figured that out by
now. Did he really believe me or was he so desperate for the words that he
was lying to himself? He certainly seemed genuine, but just hours ago, he
genuinely hated my very existence. How long would this last? What if
someone else came along that he wanted more? What if he required more than
I could or would give? That could be a problem.
	"Get in."  I pressed the keyless entry button and it clicked.
	He opened the door and climbed in. He was still grinning like a
Cheshire cat. I got in and looked over at him. I couldn't help but
smile. He was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen- despite being
dressed like a vagrant.

  Thanks for sticking with the story. There's more sex to come, so don't
worry ;-)

	~Drew.