The contents of this story is purely fictional although based on real life happenings in my life. All names have been fictionalize to protect the innocent and not so innocent. The content matter of this story concerns love and sex between males teenagers. If this is not what you like reading or it is illegal for you to read this material because of age or laws go somewhere else. This story is copyrighted by it's owner and may not be copied or published elsewhere without the owners permission.
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Foto Chapter 5
Chapter Five - Home Roots
When I got to the taxi, I threw my luggage and backpack in the trunk, took out my headphones and started listening to GreenDay on my mp3 player. I didn’t want to hear their voices. I stared out the window the whole time. When we got to the apartment Dad started to grab my suitcase but I barged in and took my stuff giving him the coldest look I could. He got the point and backed off.
I followed them up to the apartment.
“I’ll show you your room,” said Michael softly.
It was decent. I notice Dad’s computer and printer were in the room. I walked over to it.
“Your dad and I thought you’d like a computer. He’s got a new one and…” Michael said but his voice died out as I disconnected the cables. Picked up the monitor and set it outside of my room. I then proceed to remove the computer, printer, TV set, stereo until my room was free of anything they had put in there for me.
Of course Michael tried to object, and tried to communicate to me but I turned up the volume of my mp3 player so I wouldn’t hear him. When I finished, he was still standing in my room looking like he’d lost his best friend. Well, he had.
“Are you finished staring at me? I want you out of my room, now.”
“Bastian, please let’s talk about this.”
“GET THE FUCK OUT OF MY ROOM. I DON’T WANT TO TALK TO YOU! I DON’T WANT TO SEE YOU. GET OUT!” I screamed.
He left and I locked my door.
I collapsed on my bed and cried myself to sleep.
I woke up early the next morning, went to the bathroom and cleaned up.
I met my dad as I came out of the bathroom.
“Bastian, we need to talk.”
I ignored him and continued to my door. He grabbed my arm, spun me around and pulled me over to the couch.
“I was wrong Bastian, okay? I should never have put you in that position and I’m sorry.”
I said nothing.
“Bastian, please, I love you. Please let’s sort this out.” Tears filled his eyes, spilt over and ran down his cheeks.
I stood up and returned to my room. I was shaking inside. I’d never seen my dad cry. I got dressed, grabbed my backpack and left the apartment in search of wi-fi. I found a café that had wi-fi.
I spent most of the day there and some of it walking around looking at things and people. I found a small park and watched little kids playing. I had an email from Brady. I sent both Edna and him a long email telling him of my upset with my dads. I missed him. I missed Edna. I even missed my mom.
I picked up an English photo magazine and read it cover to cover while sitting in another café. I missed having a camera. I felt like part of me was gone. Before returning to the apartment I checked my email. I had received a reply.
I really miss you too. I think what your dad did was wrong but we all make mistakes and do things we think are right at the time but turn out to be wrong. (Like climbing a mountain on your own – LOL). You need to hear him out and he needs to hear you out. At least talk to Michael. From what you told me Michael did argue with your dad about placing you in the boarding school. So, don’t be too hard on him.
Edna was right. If we had been a normal family Michael would have been the mother. I had always been close to him. I had always gone to him first when I had a problem.
Michael was in the living room as I walked through to my room. He looked at me with the sadist eyes I’d ever seen. I stopped for a moment and we stared at each other. He mouthed “I love you.” Instantly tears fell from my eyes. I signed, “I love you too.” Then I signed, “You are my heart and the bottom of my shoe.”
He laughed through his own tears.
I signed, “I want to talk in my room,” and then turned and went into my room.
When I was eleven, Michael and I were having dinner at a restaurant and there was this table of at least a dozen people half were adults and half were kids. They seemed to be enjoying themselves. What originally attracted my attention was this really, really cute blonde haired, grey-eyed boy who was my age. I guess I was staring and his friend noticed and made some movements with his hand and the boy turned and looked right at me. He smiled and made some movements with his hands and his friend laughed and so did Michael.
“He just said he thinks you’re cute,” Michael told me.
“How do you know?”
“He’s signing. It’s a way deaf people talk. Your dad and I learned how to sign so we could talk in class and say things that we didn’t want others to hear.”
“Can you teach me?”
“Ok. How do I sign ‘I think you’re cute too’?”
Michael showed me and I practiced a bit. The boy’s attention was on his friend and so I took some ice from my soda, crunched it in to small pieces and using my straw like a blowgun shot a small piece of ice at him. It hit his cheek and he looked around and saw me. I smiled and signed back to him, “I think you’re cute too.”
He blushed and his friend split a gut laughing. Before they left he came over to our table.
“Hi my name is Casey. Do you live around here?”
“Yes. We just moved here last week. I’m Bastian.” We shook hands.
“If I knew you signed I would never have said that.”
“Well, I don’t but Michael does and so does my dad. But I want to learn it because I think it’s neat.”
“I could teach you,” he said, “I mean if your dad doesn’t mind.”
I turned my head and looked at Michael who smiled and nodded.
“Give me your phone number,” I said still looking at Michael, then turned and looked at him. He said nothing just looked at me expectantly.
“Bastian.” I turned and looked at Michael. “He didn’t hear you so he is still waiting for a response. You have to look at him when you talk so he can read your lips.”
“Give me your phone number,” I repeated.
“I don’t like to use the phone,” he pointed to his ear, “Do you have irc or chat?”
“MSN Messenger” I replied.
He beamed, “Me too.”
“Do you have a pen?” he asked. Michael gave him a pen and a napkin. Casey had the most beautiful grey eyes. I couldn’t help but stare at them.
“I’ll be online when I get home,” he said while I was fixated on his eyes.
“Yeah, right, uh talk to you later.”
I was still thinking about those eyes when Michael interrupted me saying, “Oh, somebody’s in love.”
I blushed big time, “I am not!” Blush. Blush. Blush. He was so pretty. Casey is such a beautiful name. I sighed, looked at Michael who had a smirk on his face, and then I blushed again!
I finished my meal really fast and was ready to go home and jump on my dad’s computer, but Michael was taking it real slow. ON PURPOSE!!!
“Come on Michael! You’re being slow on purpose!” I complained as he slowly savored a fry. How can anyone savor a fry?
He laughed. “Why? I’m really enjoying this fry – it’s a vintage fry you know. Hmmm, 2005 Idaho Russet I’d guess. Mmmm, so good I must check with the waiter.”
“Give me the car keys I’ll drive myself!”
He laughed. “Okay, Sebbie, let’s go.”
I gave him a dirty look because he knows I hate being called Sebbie.
When we got home I rushed to Dad’s computer and waited for Michael to log me in because I was not allowed to be on the computer unless one of my parents was there. That was the rule, ever since I formatted the hard drive. I was pretty restricted as what I was allowed to do. No chatrooms, no just surfing the net, only allowed to go to kids sites but still no chatrooms. My MSN Contact list up to that point consisted of my four grandparents and Dad.
To say the least Michael was taking his own sweet time.
“Michael!” I whined.
“Yes, my love? Did you want something?” he teased.
“Sign me in. I want to talk to Casey!”
He smiled and logged me in then set up messenger for Casey. Almost instantly the message window opened up. It was Casey. We talked for nearly two hours. He pointed me to a couple of websites on ASL (American Sign Language) so I could start learning, and over the six months that we were there I became somewhat proficient. The greatest thing was we had sleepovers almost every week.
I think that was when I really started hating our lifestyle of moving from place to place. I wanted to let Casey know how I felt about him. So I asked Michael how to sign the word soul. Michael showed me.
The last time I saw Casey I signed what I thought was “You are my heart and soul”, however what I signed was “You are my heart and the bottom of my shoe.” Casey cracked up!
Michael was there too and he laughed his ass off. I was so embarrassed at that time.
I sat down on my bed after putting my laptop on to charge. I was looking at my hands in my lap thinking about the things I wanted to say. When I looked up both my dads were standing in the doorway.
I could see Dad was trying to control his emotions. Michael had given up trying to control his emotions. I patted the bed on both sides of me and they both came over and took their places – Dad on my right and Michael on my left. That’s when Dad and I lost it. He wrapped his arms around me and we cried.
“Bastian, I am so sorry. I swear will never keep you in the dark again. Please, please don’t stop loving me. You are everything to me. You are my life.”
“I love you Dad. I love you Michael. I’m sorry for what I said,” I cried. They had their arms around me. We stayed like that for a while.
Once we had calmed down Dad spoke, “Edna called today. She sort of gave us a reality adjustment.”
I giggled, “Yeah, she’s good at doing that.”
“Well, Mike and I have decided that we are going to settle in one place where you can go to school, and we’ll stay there at least until you’re eighteen.”
“Yes, really,” said Dad.
“Well, we are thinking about Chicago - central location and good transportation.”
“So, I’ll be going to a real school?”
“If that’s what you want,” said Michael.
“Sort of but it’s kind of scary. Not to bring up a sore point but the last school I went to I got my butt whipped. Can’t you keep teaching me?”
“Sure, sweetheart,” Michael replied.
I rolled my eyes. “You’re going to pay for that!”
“And how am I going to pay for that, Sebbie?” Dad laughed.
I jumped up off the bed, rushed over to my backpack, retrieved the photo magazine, rushed back to the bed and said, “With this!” as I pointed to the Canon EOS Rebel Digital camera.
“Eight hundred dollars!” Dad said in shock.
“Yeah, but I’m worth it and Edna says I’m a really good photographer. Here! Come here! I’ll show you my photos that I took.”
For the next hour my dads looked at the photos that I had taken. Michael loved the picture of Notch Mountain and Dad loved the picture of Jamie and the chipmunk.
The next day I had my camera. I felt as complete as any thirteen year old could feel.
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