Date: Wed, 12 Apr 2000 08:47:57 -0700 (PDT) From: Dewey Subject: For the Love of Pete 8 This story is a work of erotic fiction involving teenage boys partially based on real people and events. Names have been changed to protect the guilty as well as the innocent. All the usual rules apply. If you shouldn't be reading this now, then don't continue on. Copyright Notice - This story is copyright by the author and the author retains all rights. You may distribute copy, or print this story however you like, PROVIDED this copyright notice remains intact and you do not change the story in any way. Also you may not charge any fee to anyone to distribute or access this story. I'd like to dedicate this chapter to all the boys out there that weren't allowed to be children when they were kids. May you find the child in you long before I found the child in me. For the Love of Pete Chapter 8 I don't remember much of what happened for the next several days. I was told later that after I broke down in the driveway, I started puking all over myself. They had to call an ambulance to transport me because I wouldn't be touched, and tried to hit anyone that came near me. The paramedics finally tackled me and tied me down to a gurney, which was when I really lost it, if I hadn't already. I voided everything from bowels to bladder, and if I had had anything left in my stomach, that would have been in the ambulance too. They kept me strapped until the doctor gave me a shot to put me out. The next time I was conscious and coherent was three days after Pete had been taken from me. I was still in the hospital when I came to, and Mom was sleeping in the chair next to my bed. It was one of those fold down models that turns into a narrow single sleeper. I had an IV stuck in one arm, and it was about three according to the clock. It must have been early morning because everything was dark and quiet. I really didn't want to talk to her, but I needed to get that tube out of my arm. I hate those things. Somehow they leave me feeling violated. Anyway, I found the call button for the nurse and pressed it. "Yes?" Oh, great. A speaker phone. The nurse's voice was pleasant sounding, if a bit metallic. "Can someone take this thing out of my arm?" "I'll be there in a moment." I looked over to see if the noise had awakened my mom. She was still asleep, but not for long. The nurse opened the door and turned on the overhead light. I was right, she did have a pretty voice, but that was all that was pretty about her. She was a grandmotherly type, homely but pleasant. Her name was Esther Dominik, I noticed. Mom looked up at the nurse, a blistering rebuke on her lips, but then saw that I was awake. She started to smile at me. I pointedly turned my head in the other direction, jaw clinched. She had known Pete was leaving, and she didn't even tell me so I could say goodbye. I hated her, and I really didn't want her near me. The nurse came to the bedside. "How are you feeling?" "Fine. Will you take this out now?" I held up my wrist. "We'll have to wait for the doctor. He'll be here about seven." Wonderful. Four more hours with this damn tube in my arm. She took the blood pressure cuff off the wall and slipped it around my arm. She performed her tasks in silence, efficient and professional. When she had finished taking my pulse and temperature, she said, "I'll make sure you are the doctor's first stop, okay?" "You sure we can't take it out earlier?" She shook her head. "And if you try, we'll have to strap you down again." Again? The nurse left the room. Mom stood up and came to my bedside. Before she said anything, I whipped my head around and glared at her. "You knew!" An accusation. "Brian, honey, I was trying to spare you this pain." She put her hand on mine, and I jerked it away so fast I almost yanked the IV out. "Don't touch me! You never listen, and you never take what I say seriously! I loved him! And you just blew that off like usual. I hate you for not telling me and letting me say goodbye to him. It never even occurred to you that I could love anyone but you! Guess what. I don't love you anymore. You are no better than.... Just get out. I don't want you here! GET OUT!" "Brian, you can't possibly mean that..." "LEAVE! NOW!" I frantically searched for the call button again, but it wasn't necessary. The nurse sized up the situation immediately. "Mrs. Kellam, you'd better come with me. We can't have him agitated right now, and you seem to be upsetting him." Damn right she is! "I don't want her in my room again!" "Come with me Mrs. Kellam." The nurse drug my mother bodily from the room. Tears started to fill my eyes. The nurse came back in, and I hastily rubbed the tears out, but they didn't stop. Then I thought, "Fuck it. I have a right to cry now." And that's what I did. I started bawling. The longer I cried, the worse I got. Nurse Dominik came over to my bedside and spread her arms wide. I threw myself into her and buried my head into her shoulder, crying even harder. I couldn't quit crying. I tried and tried, but the tears kept coming. I couldn't tell you how long I cried that night with her there, and it was more than once. Just as I would get myself under control, another paroxysm would take me back to the depths in an instant. And Esther Dominik was there, holding me in her arms and stroking my hair, comforting me, mothering me. I needed that touch, that connection at the moment, and my own mother was incapable. I did finally wear down, but the nurse stayed with me for the half hour remaining before the doctor finally arrived. When the doctor arrived, my mom tried to follow him in. I didn't want her there, and told her to get out. This took the doctor by surprise, but a quick glance at the nurse prompted him to ask her to wait outside. "Wasn't your shift over an hour ago, Esther?" "Yes, but this young man needed me to be here. He woke about 3 AM and called me in to ask to have the IV removed. From the time Mrs. Kellam awoke, he demanded she leave. I haven't been able to ascertain why, but there was a name mentioned. I assume that this person left for somewhere else." There it was, summed up nice and neat. She had reasoned it all out between my reaction to Mom and my crying fits. "Do you want to add anything? You can talk to me if you like. I won't tell your mom, seeing how you feel about her." I thought about it for a moment. My life was over anyway, so why not just tell them the truth? I told them about Pete and me from the bleachers on Wednesday up through the events of the morning Pete left, and left nothing out, not the fact that we were gay, nor the fact that we had decided to wait before we had sex. I cried several times, but not the disabling bouts I had had earlier. Finally, coming to the end, I stated, "But none of that matters now. He's gone and not coming back." "Call Psyche and see if you can get Dr. Rasek to come up and visit. I think he might be able to help you, Brian. Tell him exactly what you told me, okay?" I shrugged. "He can't help you unless you tell him the truth. Now let's see that IV. I think we can take it out, now that you are awake and can feed yourself. I'll be back in this afternoon to check on you." "I can't leave today?" "Nope. You were effectively comatose for three days. We have to make sure that there is nothing seriously wrong, and that means a minimum of 24 hours observation, maybe longer depending on what we find." "I don't want my mom or dad in here at all then. They betrayed me, and I don't want to see them." "You're sure? I see. Is there anyone else you want me to call?" "Danny Trask. He's a policeman. You can try his home number first, then try the station." I gave them the numbers. "Thank you for understanding. Not many people take what I have to say seriously." The doctor took my wrist and removed the IV. Finally. I hated the feeling of cool fluid entering through the IV. Have I mentioned I despise those things? After removing the tube, he started out of the room. "I'll leave instructions at the desk that your mom and dad not be let in. Just try to rest for now, and I'll call Officer Trask for you." Esther started to follow him, but I stopped her with a word. "Thank you for being here with me. It means a lot. If you weren't here..." "I know. I'll be back tonight, so I'll see you then. For now, try to sleep, and don't let yourself get too worked up, okay?" "I'll try." She smiled and left the room. I could hear Mom arguing with the doctor, stating she was my mother and she had the right to be by my side. The doctor said that under ordinary circumstances that would be true, but he was of the opinion that letting her in would be detrimental to my recovery, and if she persisted she would be escorted out of the building. I grinned in triumph. About an hour after the doctor left, another nurse brought in my breakfast. It was only hospital food, but it was the best food I had ever had, considering my stomach had been empty for four days. I wolfed down what was on the tray and asked for more. They obliged and gave me some yogurt and a banana. I wolfed them down too, and resigned to wait until my next feeding frenzy at lunch. Danny arrived shortly after ten o'clock, in uniform of course. I don't think he ever took a day off. "Hey, kiddo, how are you doing?" "Doing okay. How are you?" "I'm good now that you are awake. You sure you're okay?" I nodded in the affirmative. "Danny, I have to ask you a question." "Shoot." "Can I come and live with you? I don't want to go home, I hate my parents for not telling me he was leaving." He looked uncomfortable. "Brian, you have to go home. That is where you belong, with your mom and dad. Try not to be too hard on us. We made a decision to try to protect you, and it was a mistake. After all, we are only human." I realized what he meant by including himself in those statements. "You knew too!" He nodded. "I knew Saturday when I came up to the house. That was what I was arguing with her about. I wanted to tell you boys, but she forbade it." "You knew and you still didn't tell us?! I thought you of all people would realize how we felt! You saw us, you said you were there for us, but you betrayed us just like mom and dad did!" "Brian..." "No! Just get out. I don't want to see you. Go away." He looked deep in my eyes and sighed heavily. I could see pain in his. "I'm still here if you need anything." "How can I believe that now? After you betrayed me you expect me to trust you? Just get out." He looked at me once more and shook his head. "I'm truly sorry, Brian. If I had it to do over, I would tell you. I'm sorry." He left and shut the door quietly. I was crying again. The door opened not more than a minute after Danny left. I could still hear his voice outside talking to someone. Some doctor in a lab coat walked in and introduced himself as Dr. Rasek. "How are you, Brian?" "I'm fine," I said as I tried to hide my tears. "Your chart says that you had a seizure a few days ago and came here comatose. Do you remember what happened right before your seizure?" "Yeah. My boyfriend was taken from me." "Boyfriend? You think you're gay?" "I am gay." "Well, you're too young to know that for sure yet. Why did you feel this other boy was your boyfriend?" "Pete WAS my boyfriend. We came out to each other on Friday and we got really close in those few days." "How long were you together as a couple?" "Four days. Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, Saturday. His mom took him away on Sunday morning, early, like six-thirty. I broke down in the driveway, so I'm told. I don't remember anything after that until I woke up this morning." "Hmm. You think you loved him?" "I do love him. I don't think it, I know I do." "I believe you're not old enough to know adult love. It was probably just a crush that felt like what you imagine love to be. Some boys have sexual encounters with other boys and grow up to be healthy heterosexuals." "What kind of a shrink are you? You are treating me no better than anyone else. I am serious about what I am saying and you are dismissing my thoughts and feelings." A nurse picked that moment to walk in, and I think what she had heard so far was shocking her. "I'm going to tell you the same thing I told my parents. GET OUT! I don't want to talk to you or see you any more. If you can't take what I have to say seriously, I can't trust you. So, just go back to where you came from." I turned my head away pointedly, crossed my arms and didn't respond to his apologies and pleas for my attention. After a few minutes, he gave up and left, seeing me as a hopeless case, no doubt. The nurse then took it upon herself to lecture me on my manners and how I treat the doctors. So I screamed at her too. She just got angry and lectured me all the more until I asked to see her supervisor. The she turned white and left. These people will learn not to fuck with me. The supervisor did come in, and I told her that if the nurses couldn't take me seriously, I didn't want them in my room. I think I surprised her, but she told me she agreed I had the right to voice my concerns. I had no more problems in the hospital like those I had with Rasek and that nurse. The rest of the day went by smoothly. People knew I wanted to be left alone, and unless they had to come in to take vitals or draw blood, stayed out, which was fine with me. Six o'clock rolled around and shortly after, Esther came in. She told me she had made arrangements to stay with me for a while, until I fell asleep anyway. She was good to her word, sitting with me and telling me of her life, her experiences with love lost and how she got over it with time. I cried a bit during our conversation, and she held me again. About nine I started to get tired and I drifted off the sleep in her arms. I awoke the next morning at seven thirty, when the doctor came in and checked me out. He said I was well enough to go home as soon as someone showed up to drive me. I told him I'd walk, and he said I couldn't; he had to release me to an adult. Danny showed up at eight fifteen, met me in my room, and followed me out to his car as the nurse wheeled me out. They must have made special arrangements for Danny to pick me up. Mom or Dad should have been here, but obviously I wasn't important enough for them to take the time to pick me up. The drive was excruciating. Danny kept apologizing, going on and on about how they made a mistake, that they were very sorry, and would I try to forgive them? I didn't respond, the hurt was still too fresh. I steeled myself against coming home to the last place I had seen Pete. I didn't die when I turned the corner, but I did feel a lump in my throat. Danny left me in the driveway with the reminder he was there if I wanted to talk or anything. I just nodded, already focusing on going in the house. When I opened the door, I could see Mom and Dad standing behind the couch. It was obvious to me they wanted to rush me, to put their arms around me and squeeze me to death. I honestly can't say what I would have done if they had. Dawn was sitting in the dining room, looking on with curiosity. "Welcome home, son." Dad spoke first. I could tell it was an effort for him. Mom started to say something, but I interrupted her. "I know why you did what you did, but it still feels like a betrayal. I can't easily forgive that, and it will take time. Don't push me." Mom and Dad looked at each other. I'm not sure if they expected this reaction to coming home. Mom asked, "May I give you a hug?" She looked worried, fragile. I resist my gut reaction to turn her down. I did have to live there, after all. I nodded, and she came over to me, looking in my eyes. She got on her knees, wrapped me in her arms and repeated the words, "My poor baby," over and over. I didn't respond to her, staring at my father. He stared back at me, sadness and regret etched on his face. He spoke again. "Brian, please believe we're sorry. We didn't realize that you felt as strongly as you did. If we had, we would have acted differently." I separated myself from my mom. "You know why you didn't realize? You didn't listen to me. I told you twice in two days. I told you Friday night, and I told mom again Saturday night just before I left, when you told me I was imagining things!" "Will someone tell me what happened? I hate being in the dark." Dawn piping up from the dining room. We all ignored her. "Brian..." "You never take anything I say seriously, otherwise you would have known how we felt. I may be twelve, but I'm more grown up than a lot of adults I know. And since when is age the determining factor on what a person can feel? Do I have to be fourteen before I can experience love? Sixteen? Twenty?" I stopped my tirade. Mom was tearing up and Dad looked to be retreating into his shell. "Brian has a girlfriend?" Dawn again. "Dawn, this is none of your business, leave it alone. And don't pester Brian. If I hear of you bothering him, I'll ground you. No ifs, ands, or buts." "But..." "What did I just say?" "Yes, dad." I turned and went to my room. No one objected. I never really did forgive them, but we managed a livable, if tense, relationship. Time started to slip by faster and faster. I realized one day that my room reminded me of Pete and our last talk. It made me miserable, so I started spending my time with Chris. I convinced him to teach me how to work out, and we started working out on a daily basis, from bike riding, to running, to weights, sports, swimming, you name it. I threw myself at everything he came up with, because it distracted me from my pain. Kathlene became my mom. She treated me like a kid when called for, correcting me when I was in the wrong, and she treated me as an adult when I really needed her to. She was everything to me that my parents weren't. She listened carefully and took what I said seriously. She encouraged me to grow, both mentally and otherwise. She also insisted I spend some time at home. I didn't like it, but I did anyway, to keep her happy. Mostly I stayed in my room, trying to distract myself from thinking about Pete. I know that Kathlene was in touch with my parents, and that all three of them were seeing a counselor to figure out how to deal with me. For now, Mom and Dad stayed out of my way and I stayed out of theirs. I ignored Dawn completely. As I said, I spent most of my waking hours and Chris's place. He was a great friend. He took me under his wing and taught me to do his exercise routine, and he helped me to succeed. We became close friends. One day he asked me what had happened that weekend, and I knew I owed him the truth for being my friend, even if it meant losing him over it. "Chris, I have something to tell you. If you don't want to hang together, I'll understand. You see, I'm gay." He didn't even bat an eye. "And?" I must have looked confused. That wasn't the response I was expecting. "So why would you being gay change anything? I don't care. And don't worry about it." He smiled. "Just don't come on to me, okay?" And that was the last either of us mentioned it. I did tell him the complete story though, now that I had nothing to hide. As I told him, I teared up. "I really loved him, Chris. I really did, and no one took us seriously except that bitch Brenda, and she took him away from me. She blamed me for making Pete gay." I was crying openly at this point. Chris put his arm around my shoulders, a friend comforting a friend. After I wound down, Chris suggested we go for a run to clear our heads. By this time we were running four or five miles. I wasn't up to Chris's caliber yet, and he had to slow his pace or leave me in the dust, but slow he did, and spent his extra breath encouraging me and urging me on. As the summer waned, I was still spending the vast majority of my time with Chris, and our friendship grew. If he was getting tired of me, he didn't say anything, nor did Kathlene. My mom only mentioned that I wasn't spending enough time at home once that summer. I pretended not to hear her. Football practice started, and I bullied my parents into signing the permission slip to let me play. I went out for the team, and to everyone's surprise including mine, I made the team as a receiver. Brent started joking about me being a disposable receiver; one hit and replace me. But, my newfound strength and endurance served me in good stead. I was both fast and wiry, hard to take down, and more resilient. I surprised myself any number of times with the shots I took from Brent in practice (he was a linebacker). He finally left me alone, not going out of his way to assault me. Eventually, I even won one of the starting positions, and I have Chris to thank. I didn't tell my parents, and they never came to a game. When school started, my birthday came and went, and I threw myself at my class work just like I had with working out and football. I had no free time. About mid-season, Chris noticed how busy I kept myself and tried to convince me to take a break. "Where should I slack off? Class work? I have a real shot at a four-point for the first time ever, so I can't slack off there. Football? I just got the starting job. I can't give that up, and I have to work out to keep it. Maybe I'll take a break after football season." Chris just shook his head worriedly. About a day after that conversation, my parents sent me to a psychologist. They asked me to answer his questions and I did. I told him everything was great. School was never better, and football was a lot of fun. No, I didn't spend much time at home. I had school and football, plus I worked out nearly every night. The shrink asked the same question Brian had the day before. I answered it just the same and added, "Why change anything? My grades are the highest they've ever been, I love football, why change?" "Your family misses you." I didn't respond to that. Why should I respond. They betrayed me once, and I'm not willing to give them the chance to betray me again. The interview ended, and I never saw him again. The home situation was tense. I pretty much ignored them all, even Dawns efforts to get a rise out of me. I was completely self absorbed. They tried to get me to take some meds at some point, even tried to force me. I faked it, never taking a single pill. Danny tried to talk to me again somewhere in there, but I still blamed him for knowing and not telling me. I treated the same as I did my parents and told him why. He accepted that and said he hoped I would come to forgive him. His regret was real, as far as I could tell. Football season ended and wrestling began. I tried out for the team and made it. So I would get up at 5:30 to be to practice by six o'clock, go to school, do my homework with Chris, then work out until 8:30 or so, before going home and going to bed. I went for the 98 pound division. Of course that meant I had to lose between five and ten pounds before a match. I did everything to lose that weight, too. Sweated it out in the hot tub, spit into a cup incessantly, starved myself, took laxatives, everything I could think of to make weight. I did really well for never having wrestled too. I made it to the district meet and lost in the semi-finals. I held the same type of schedule through the school year, going out for track instead of baseball, because I though I would get a better workout. My going out for track surprised the hell out of everyone who knew me. I had been a baseball devotee since I could walk. At the end of the year, I had held a 4.0 grade point, played three sports, and worked out almost every day. I spent the summer the same way I had spent the previous one. The major difference now was I was putting on muscle now instead of just toning. I was growing too. Not much, but I noticed. The following year was just like the last year, 4.0 GPA, football, wrestling, track. I had to bump up a category in wrestling due to my muscle mass, but I still did well. I was in high school now, and fourteen years old. I could tell that Mom and Dad were worried about me, but I held it together somehow. Looking back on this time period, I think I was trying to destroy myself somehow with all the activity. I never rested, and my coaches always asked more of me, which made me work harder. I never let them down. The school even sent me to their shrink, but I gave her the rundown just like I did the others. I had some newfound respect at school. Brent and the pack were leaving me alone now that I played football, even going so far as to pay me a complement now and then. My teachers loved me because I had come out of nowhere to get a 4.0. Dawn was definitely taking my self imposed isolation hard. She would give me puppy dog eyes and try to provoke me, but I blew her off. Mom and Dad tried to talk to me, but I still wasn't ready to talk to them. Mom even begged for me to take the wrestling season off so I could rest and regroup. I just thrust the permission sheet into her hand and asked her again to sign it. I wasn't sure how long they'd let me bully them. I didn't care. I wasn't there much anyway. Some days when Chris would take a break, I would come up and work out on my own. Kathlene started wondering aloud at my obsession with working out. She was concerned too. But I took her concern as genuine and tied my best to explain what was going on in my head. She seemed to understand, but I could tell she was still worried. Chris and I took to studying on those days I worked out and he didn't. He would ask me questions as I lifted. It helped me a lot now that I was in high school. I needed all the studying I could get to keep on top of the classes and maintain my 4.0. So, my freshman year came to an end. I had lettered in wrestling (I made it to the finals this that year) and track, which was some feat for a freshman. I just missed my 4.0 by one question in English. I got a 3.96 instead because I missed that one question on the final. I took it really hard, like I failed completely. Chris set me straight. There was only one other person who came close to me, and she had a 3.92. So I kind of got over it, but vowed to get a four point next year. That summer was the same as the one before. Same grueling schedule. Chris had started really noticing girls over the last couple years and he talked about them with me. I think he enjoyed telling me what he thought of this one or that one. He even tried to point out the cute guys for a while until I told him I wasn't looking for anyone. And I was the only gay kid I knew about anyway. And I was still holding out for Pete. My sophomore year started the same way. I played football just like usual, but this time I earned a starting position on the varsity team. I guess I was finally starting to get over having lost Pete, but I still didn't talk about him at all, and thought about him every moment. I still had pangs, but their intensity decreased as time went on, or I got used to them, maybe. I started talking to Mom and Dad, and I even let Dawn tease me a bit. I didn't work out every day now, taking Wednesday and Sunday off to spend time at home. I didn't slack off anywhere else though. I guess you could say I was almost content. For now.... ----------------------- Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please e-mail me at dewey2k@yahoo.com. Flames will be deleted. ----------------------- I'd like to invite you to join a list that will notify you of new chapters being released for "Pete". To subscribe, you can write to: dewey2k-subscribe@listbot.com You can also subscribe to a new list by visiting its ListBot page: http://dewey2k.listbot.com After you send or fill out a join request you will be sent a verification request, to which you will have to reply in order to complete the join process.