Date: Mon, 3 Dec 2001 19:54:04 -0500
From: Elsewhere <dreamer@shell.monmouth.com>
Subject: Humor Me (Part 6/?, High School, m/m)

Humor Me

Disclaimer: This is a story about a romantic relationship between two
teenage males.  If that kind of story offends you, then please do not read
the following story.  Also, if you are under the legal age to read stories
of this type, then don't.  Please do not reproduce this story without
permission, since that is a copyright infringement.

Okay, I'd like to thank David for proofreading this chapter for me.  That's
just that little less stress I need to deal with, and I appreciate it.  And
I'm almost done with chapter 7, and I'm ready to kick this into gear now.
Thanks to all of you for sticking along with the ride!

Comments go to dreamer@shell.monmouth.com.  Feedback is always very much
appreciated.


-Chapter 6-

Dani looked up from the list of missed assignments we had given her. The
walls in her bedroom were festooned in pastel paint, light green, which
only brightened her sudden smile. The green on the walls, the parts of them
which weren't covered in posters of mythical creatures, nature scenes, star
charts, and one Periodic Table, matched her eyes perfectly.

Anyone seeing Dani in this room could tell she belonged there. A while ago,
Dani had given me a long discourse on the subject of residual spiritual
essence. An object in someone's possession for long enough could retain
someone's essence; a part of that person's spiritual and emotional
being. In a subconscious way, the object would always be known as that
person's Thing, even if it should change owners later on. I had joked that
my brother's gym socks must have had a lot of his essence, because I was
sure I'd seen them stand up on their own, unsupported. She said it was just
a sign that Shane didn't know how to do his own laundry yet.

When she smiled, I had realized, finally, what she meant. Whether Dani
belonged to this room, or the room was merely a physical manifestation of
her personality, I wasn't sure. But, the place was definitely Hers, plain
and simple.

"Duh, you guys," she chimed, leaning forward in her high-backed computer
chair. Done in black leather, the chair made her seem smaller than she
was. All she was missing was a white cat, and she would have looked like an
ideal Bond villain. "Of course I will. I'd be honored."

Another surge of warmth ran through Mike as he sat on the floor facing
her. His back was against the side of her twin bed, the comforter wrinkling
around his body at the point of contact. I was to his left side, nestled in
the crook of his arm, which was around my shoulders. The fingers of his
right hand swam lazily back and forth across my stomach. The rasp of his
skin against the fabric of my shirt was what kept me awake, even as the
motion threatened to pull me down into a deep slumber.

The warmth from Mike meant that he was happy. He normally hid his emotions
behind his jokes, so I had spent the last two weeks learning how to read
him through that barrier, by other methods: movements, body heat, and the
look in his eyes. Knowing he was happy was a simple thing; the warmth meant
that his blood was rushing, which meant his heart was beating faster,
meaning he was happy or excited. I prided myself on learning to understand
him more, while at the same time I scolded myself for over-examining things
like that. He's happy, I thought to myself. Just accept it for what it is.

It had been difficult to unlearn old habits of mine in the last two
weeks. Mike and I had gotten back together, and we promised each other to
take things slowly. Each of us had our own reasons for it: I, for one, had
almost no clue of what I was doing, and Mike...well, he hadn't told me
yet. After the argument I started the last time I pried into his past, I
was in no hurry to push him. I would not put us through that hell again.

So, no pushing, no prying, for either of us, and no loss of patience on my
part. I had been doing fine, so far. I wasn't reading anything into the
things Mike had said, nor was I worrying over things. Maybe Dani was right
about me being a Water child, since I was going with the flow rather
nicely, lately.

Most of the time, anyway.

"You two are taking this way too seriously," I said. With Mike's arm around
my shoulder, I did not feel like moving. I was still ready to fall asleep,
again, so I wasn't feeling very confrontational at the moment. The three of
us had had enough of that over the last few weeks to last us until college,
easily. "I mean, come on. It's not like we're going to pay you, Dani."

I could hear the chuckle forming in Mike's chest before it passed his
lips. "It 'is' serious, Jo," he said. Damn pet names. Well, it could have
been the other things he calls me behind closed doors. I should count
myself lucky. "It's a very important step in our relationship. I've never
had this before."

"See, Jonas," Dani chided, a few red-gold curls bouncing as she
nodded. "It's important to him. It will be to you, too."

"I'm aware of that," I replied. "But I don't see it being as serious as you
two do. What are we going to do, call in a priest?" I raised a hand, in
benediction, intoning, "Do you, Jonas and Michael, take Danielle Watkins to
be your lawfully bound Fag Hag, to follow you around, to be catty with, and
to help you pick out your clothes for ever and ever or until Elijah Wood
walks into your lives?"

Dani hid her giggles behind her hand, mumbling something as Mike sighed. "I
really need to find out what your fixation with religion is, someday," he
said, giving me a quick hug. "And Elijah? Damn, you can do better. I'm
hurt."

I shrugged. "You have better eyes," I said quickly. Not that I was lying,
but...hell, there was still a part of me that was afraid of saying the
wrong thing again. "As for Dani...well, I guess we do owe it to her."

"Hell yes we do, peasant," Mike returned, kissing me on the nose. "Yon
brave witch-knight should be rewarded, for defending mine prized princeling
in battle."

My eyes narrowed, just so. "Peasant and princeling in the same breath. I'm
starting to sound like a hunting bird."

"No," Dani said, dryly. "That would be me."

"So falcons wear steel-toed boots?"

"Only when needed, little man."

"Hey," I snapped, sitting up straight, breaking out of Mike's embrace. Just
as quickly, his hand was on my shoulder, clenching there. "I...well, I am
short. Just...stop."

Dani just shook her head. "You are still way too thin-skinned, hon."

Mike nodded, pulling me back. "She...well, she 'did' mean it. But don't
take it too personally."  I leaned my head back, as Mike started to stroke
my hair. "How am I supposed to take it? I really thought I could take care
of myself. I mean, I could have dealt with it."

Dani's eyes widened, as she paled. "No, Jonas. I know how you deal with
things. Or how you 'did'. Did you really want that?"

Mike stiffened. "What's she talking about, Jonas?"

"I'll explain it later," I said, and prayed he never brought it up
again. Damn Dani, there was some stuff I was trying to get away from. "But
yeah, Dani did do something nice..."

"Nice nothing," she snapped. "I'm suspended because of you two."

""I know," Mike said. "And we owe you, big time."

					***

In retrospect, the reaction of the Weathering School to a certain
guy-on-guy kiss in their hallways wasn't all that bad. Mike and I weren't
punished, and with the school being private, but not parochial, there were
no religious issues to deal with.

A couple of days after Mike and I got back together in a very public
fashion, we had been called to the office during First Period Comp Sci. We
sat outside the Mr. Blake's office, sparing glances at each other as we
both expected the worst. Mike's hand slipped between us on the bench where
we were sitting, and laid it over my own hand in the gentlest of squeezes.

"Don't worry," he said, even though his voice was shaking yet. "We'll be
okay."

As it turned out, we were. We were greeted in the Principal's Office, by
Mr. Blake, the Principal in question, and a Mr. "Call me Kevin, please,"
Stanton, Weathering's Guidance Counselor. Mr. Stan-er, Kevin probably had
the only job I would never, ever envy. With the amount of problems the kids
at Weathering had, I could only imagine what his blood pressure levels must
be, not to mention the secrets he knows. I'd talked to him often,
especially after I first came to the school. So, he knew that I was the
substitute for him, after school was over for the day.

And here I was, adding to the mix. One more personal difficulty for the
horde he already had.  But, as I said, that turned out not to be the
case. Mr. Blake and Kevin calmly told us that they knew. That I wouldn't
deny, because that kiss was a public one. I stammered a bit, a reflex in my
brain trying to explain it away to the adults. I stopped once Mike took my
hand again, between the single chairs we were sitting in.

After that, they asked if we had any problems at home. With this, Mike and
I emphatically stated that our respective families knew about this, and
were all right with it. And there were no problems with the other students,
either. A bunch of questions, sure, and I admitted that I felt like a zoo
exhibit sometimes with the way some of the other kids looked at us, but
none of them had started anything, so I really wasn't bothered by it. For
the moment, things seemed to be going okay.

The two men nodded, and admitted they were concerned about how Mike and I
were adjusting to this. Kevin handed us a few pamphlets, for later
reference. Granted, they weren't the usual preachy type of self-help drivel
like "So, you're immune to women!" or "Pillow-biting and You!" The papers
Kevin gave us were a few simple rundowns of local centers for Gays and
Lesbians, along with a few ads for social events.

Mike smiled as he saw some of them, explaining that he'd been to a few of
them. I just flipped through the papers, thanking Kevin. I never really
thought about being to events like this, or socializing in general. Who
knows? Maybe I'd enjoy myself for a change.

That was one of the more fortunate incidents. Others were less so.

For example, there was the reason Mike and I were in Dani's room that
afternoon, delivering missed homework assignments. Not our best moment, no.

About a week or so after Mike and I kissed at school, (which myself, Mike,
and some of the more accepting kids referred to as our Zero Hour jokingly.(
It almost feels like things started from that point.), I had been having a
good day.

Not that Mike and I being together was the only thing that had made
everything all right. My grades and attention had been up, and I was
getting around socially. I started talking to people again, my family
included. Small steps, I promised myself, and I was getting better at it. I
doubt it was all because I was gay, but, especially with my family, being
honest with them had helped the relationship between my mom, my brother,
and myself. I...had my family back.

Between classes at Weathering, the students had a ten minute time window to
get to their next class. I never really asked why, since the campus wasn't
all that big. Maybe it was a decision on the part of the administration to
implement that rule, so that their students would socialize more.

However, they forgot something. In any school, in any nation in the world,
High School Students will be, now and forever, High School Students.

Between second period Trig and third period European History, I needed to
move all of two rooms over. So, I used the time to relax and shake off
whatever sleep I was still carrying with me. Also, since Mike usually
passed this way for Psych class, we had a little time together. Dani had
Trig after I did, so we usually did some chatting and plan-making for
later. It was a small pocket of burden-less happiness in any given school
day, and I admit I looked forward to it.  Mike had to head up from the
first floor, while Dani had to ransack her locker for the books she'd need
for the next few periods. Since my classroom was right there, I took my
History book with me and didn't have a lot of travel time.

By the stairwell on the second floor, a large bay window was positioned to
let in more sunlight and make the school look brighter than it was. I sat
in the well with my back against the wall, watching the doors to the
stairwell open and close to let students in and out. I took off the chain
Mike gave me, and let it dangle from my fingers. The sunlight glinted off
the silver links, as my eyes washed along the center of it; the
rainbow-colored links.

I knew what the colors meant; Gay pride. Easy to say, but harder to really
understand. It wasn't a matter of waking up, realizing you're gay, and just
being okay with it. In the last month, some things in my live had changed
drastically, and I still wasn't used to it. I had spent some nights trying
not to look ahead in my life, and wonder about the things I now couldn't
have, because of this. No kids, for one, along with a host of things legal,
spiritual, and otherwise.

But, I really had no choice in the matter. This is the hand I was dealt,
and so I would play with it. Not being alone in that respect helped.

I tried not to let 'that' bug me, either. I wasn't some weak co-dependent
who was nothing without a relationship. I mean, I had lasted
sixteen-and-a-half years without one, and making my relationship to one
other person be the central focus of my sense of self-worth is definitely
not a healthy option, for me or Michael. Hell, whenever we were together,
he stressed the concept of each of us standing on our own two feet; two
whole people joining, instead of two half-people. He was very specific on
that point.

However, that didn't stop him from doing nice things. Just that morning, I
opened my locker to find a single red rose hanging from a string inside my
locker, suspended just under the bulb. Attached was a small printed note:
We'll be together, always.

While, without Mike as my boyfriend, I could probably handle life on my
own, it was little things like the rose, those little day-brighteners, that
made me happy that he 'was' in my life. I waited, ready to thank for the
impromptu present.

"Christ, would you stop showing off already," a female voice sighed,
annoyed, to my left. "You like boys. We 'know'."

I turned away from the window to see Sandy standing there. Sandy, while she
called me all the time with problems with yet another boyfriend she had
that week, was not someone I really considered a close friend. She
basically used me as a sounding board: someone to brag to about her latest
conquest. From what she told me, she was one of those real `in-crowd';
types at her old high school. Cheerleader, Student Council, and apparently
she had the brains to go with it.

She was alone, this time. High-schoolers being themselves, she was normally
accompanied by a pack of wanna-bes that copied her every move. Sic any
horror movie on me, if you want, but watching her and the Sandy-ettes
walking in formation down the hall would always terrify me more than any
slasher flick.

Petite, blond, blue-eyed in that `All-American Girl' sort of way, she was
wearing a pair of slim blue-jeans with a plain yellow T-shirt, with her
hair pulled back into a ponytail, secured by a scrunchy. Her appearance was
one of those `practiced' ones: Just the right amount of makeup, just the
right clothes, just the right look, and pretty much the right everything.

I wondered if I was jealous for all of about two seconds before I realized
that any disdain I had for her was because she was superficial to the point
of being a cartoon character.

"What," I asked.

"You heard me," Sandy retorted, taking an oh-so-regal step forward, away
from the doors. "Everyone knows you're gay already, Jonas. Stop flaunting
it."

I swung my legs around, hopping off the wall in a quick motion. For once,
she definitely had my curiosity. "I'm flaunting?"

Sandy nodded, indignant. "I see it all the time. That chain around your
neck," she said, as I felt a short surge of satisfaction that someone
finally didn't refer to it as a collar. "And you and Mike don't make it
that much of a secret."

"That's true," I replied, as the doors behind Sandy opened to let out a few
more students, rushing to class. "With the way news travels around here,
pretty much everyone knows. I'm not going to deny it."

"Exactly," she said, taking another step forward as a small group shuffled
past to go downstairs. "So stop, already."

"Stop what?"

Her face scrunched, looking like she just bit into a pickle. I heard about
six very appropriate, and very tasteless, comments whisper themselves in my
mind as I remembered the stories she had unloaded on me before. "Just..."
she stammered. "Like, anything. I mean, the kissing. That's sick."

I snorted, despite myself. Hearing this from a girl who was well known for
her public displays of affection with whatever guy she was going out
with. Let me put it this way: people have openly considered using locks of
Sandy's hair in place of mistletoe at Christmas parties. I had finally seen
what she was getting at, now. Oh, is it this game, then? Fine, bitch. Bring
it on!

"I don't get what you mean," I finally said, reaching back around my neck
to refasten the chain, and sliding it over my index finger before letting
it fall, audibly. Sandy's eyes flashed with even more
irritation. Perfect. "Seeing people kiss bothers you, or does kissing bug
you in general?"

The left side of her mouth quirked up in a half-smile, as I chuckled
inwardly. She knew what I was doing. "Nice try," she muttered. "Guys
kissing guys? It's just not natural."

"It's not the usual fare, I admit," I said with a shrug. I leaned against
the wall, and used my body to press my hands against the wall, with the
warmth from the concrete seeping into my palms.

"It's not usual at all," Sandy snapped. "It's wrong."

"Wait a sec," I said, cutting her off before she could spit out any more
crap. My hands slowly balled into fists, the knuckles digging into the
small of my back. "Mike and I are going out. We like each other. It
happens." I felt my heart rate double, my field of vision narrowing to
focus on her. "It has nothing to do with you, and it's basically none of
your fucking business. I don't see why my personal life has your panties in
a bunch." And for her panties to be in a bunch and 'not' be around her
ankles, for once, was a feat in itself.

"The hell it is. Dammit, Jonas, you were normal before he changed you."
Sandy flashed me a look of disgust. "And who's to stop you two from going
after other guys?"

Hearing that, I knew what was about to happen. I hadn't declared Verbal War
on someone in a while. With Shane away at college, the thrill just wasn't
there any more. Now...now was a different story. Being around Mike and his
constant ribbing had taught me to keep myself on my toes a lot more often
than I used to be. By now I was starting to get a few good jokes in on
Mike, which was an excellent step forward. I could almost hear the *snikt*
inside my head as I decided to cut loose with what wits I had. And if you
know what that word means, you have an idea of what happens next.

"That's what this is about," I asked, trying to keep steady, leaning back
to crush my fists against the wall. "You think that just because Mike and I
are gay, that we're going to go after every guy we can?" I shook my
head. "What the hell makes you think that?"

"And what's to stop you from converting and fucking every boy you come
across?"

I felt the smile twist my lips upward without any conscious
effort. "Ah. You have a problem with competition, when you put it that
way. Or...were you looking to add me and Mike to your extensive headboard
notch-count?"

Sandy snorted. "I'd have welcomed either of you with open arms."

"The open 'arms' aren't what I'm afraid of," I shot back. "Remember, I do
know where you've been. God only knows what's swimming around in there."

Sandy stalked another step forward, as I fought down the urge to do
something far worse. Running away now would make her think she won, but I
had to keep myself under control. "Fear," she asked, as her eyes wandered
down my body, stopping at my crotch. "Small organist?" she added with a
sneer.

"Probably," I answered, off-handedly, as my eyes mocked her gesture:
drawing down her body until I glanced at where her genetalia would be. "But
he's terrified of playing in cathedrals."

Sandy's eyes went wide as her anger took over. "You listen to me, you
smart-mouthed little faggot-"

"No!" I said, stepping up to her. My knuckles were probably bone-white from
having my fists clenched so tight. Control, Kowalczyk, I thought to
myself. Keep your cool. There's a better way. "You listen to me ,you
sperm-guzzling gutter slut," I snarled, as her mouth dropped open,
speechless. "What I do with my life, and who I do it with, if none of your
damn business. You don't like that I like guys? Tough!. You don't like the
kissing, then you can kiss my ass for all I give a shit about what you
think. You want to stand around and be a sanctimonious, filthy,
disease-ridden, one-dimensional little skank who uses up her men faster
than she uses up her tampons, that's fine. But, Sandy, you will never," I
said, pausing as I dropped each word like a boulder onto some hapless
coyote. "Never. Ever. Judge. Me. Bitch."

Sandy stood there, stunned, looking like a deer in headlights that was
about to be smacked by a pickup truck. In that moment, I regretted being
too young to yet have my driver's license. The mix of shock, anger, and
indignation was too good not to remember. "I..." she sputtered. "I never-"

"Bullshit!" I said, close to shouting as I snapped again. I wanted to
scream, as I felt the rage well up from my toes. I wanted to release all
the anger, all the fear, and all the uncertainty. My eyes narrowed again,
to slits, and made it look as if Sandy and I were the only two things in
existence. "You have. Again and again. You've told me most of it, you
Two-Dollar whore."

"How dare you," Sandy grunted as she made use of the time I took to breathe
again. "You, who probably turned gay when you realized no girl would date
you." She smirked, superiority evident. "Or maybe you did; that little
freak Dani you're with. What was it, Jonas? Was she a lousy lay, or did she
have a bigger dick-"

She never finished that sentence. Having your head yanked back by someone
grabbing your ponytail and yanking it from behind. Sandy's head went back
like a Pez dispenser as she let out a gasp.

So intent were Sandy and I on each other, neither of us noticed Dani come
up from behind.

With a snap of Dani's arm, Sandy was torn away from me and thrown to the
floor, landing with no grace whatsoever. Dani shot me a quick `you okay?'
glance, before she turned and leapt at the other girl, looking like a
short, red-headed angel of death, and spat a word at Sandy, one that's
derogatory towards women, that even I was loath to say out loud.

One of the major aspects of the Wiccan faith is a focus on nature: Nature
as a Mother, provider, and nurturer for growth. On the other side of the
coin, sometimes Nature can be a cold, cruel, vengeful merciless bitch.

And, in some situations, so could Dani.

God, how I love her.

It's a known fact: fights act like lodestones for kids in schools. It seems
like after the first few punches were thrown, a crowd materialized out of
thin air, as if it had always been there, just waiting for someone to throw
a punch.

I scrambled through the small crowd, towards the stairwell doors just as
Mike opened them. He smiled at me for a moment before his eyebrows jumped
up. His arm slid around my shoulders as he headed towards the circle,
taking me with him.

"Whoa, fight!" he called, and nearly choked as he caught a brief glimpse of
just who was in the circle of students. "Oh, shit," he muttered. "Jo, who's
she fighting?"

"Sandy."

"Daaaamn," he said, shaking his head. "Why?"

I turned to him with a wry smile. "She has a bigger dick than I do."

Confused, Mike just blinked. "Okay, that made no sense." He was going to
ask to me explain it when there were a few muffled cries of pain from
inside the circle, accented by the hollow snap of metal against linoleum
tile. "The hell is that?"

I sighed. "I think Dani went for the steel-toed boots this morning."

"Ow."

"Pretty much, yeah."

I watched through the slowly growing press of bodies, and silently cheered
Dani on, Mike was more vocal than I was, with his rooting, saying such
pleasant things like `Break your fingernails off in her ass!'

I leaned in further under his arm. It wasn't like anyone was looking at us,
and damn, did I need a hug. Dani, later on, never blamed me for the fight,
and I still thank her for that. Even that absolution, however, never
removed all of the guilt, even if it was only a week's suspension for both
of the girls.

Mike looked away from the combat, since he noticed my movement. "Hey," he
said, squeezing my shoulders with his arm as he planted yet another kiss on
the top of my head. I was starting to count that as my one advantage to
being short. "You all right?"

I nodded. "Yeah," I whispered, which went unheard by the crowd of fight
enthusiasts. "I was just thinking."

"That would explain the beads of sweat. What about?"

"Well, there's two girls fighting, right here. It doesn't do a thing for
me."

I could almost see the laugh start in Mike's chest and force its way up his
throat. He squinted as he tried to hold it in, and his cheeks puffed up as
his shoulders shook, which made him look like a thieving hamster. When he
finally let go, laughing, he ruffled my hair with his free hand.  "Me,
neither," he admitted. "And...part of me is really happy you said that."

I smirked, reaching around to pat him on the butt. The yelp of surprise on
his part alone was worth it. "You're welcome."

					***

The whole incident with Sandy was one of the negative parts of the fallout
after Mike and I went inadvertently public. With the first few days,
especially after bring called to Principal Blake's office, I was feeling
oh, so paranoid. I enjoyed being with Mike, and not having to hide it. But
still, sometimes the looks of other students would linger on us too
long. Not that we were being openly gawked at, but the surreptitious stares
were starting to make me uncomfortable.

When I confided in Mike, one day, about feeling like we should be in a zoo
with a `Gay Teen' sign hanging from the bars, he just laughed. "That's a
fun idea," he started, gripping me by the shoulders, "but
no. Listen. Wherever you go, when you're with me, people are going to stare
at the unfamiliar. And don't lie, Jonas. So do you. You might as well get
used to it; the stares, the questions, all of it. It'll cool down once the
unfamiliar becomes the familiar."

Well, that didn't really end my feelings of being a museum exhibit, like
"Homo Eroticus" or something, but it did give me some insight into it. What
if, by Mike and I existing, and together on top of that, the other students
just saw that as routine? What if we were desensitizing others about
homosexuals in general, until we were seen as `a couple,' and not `the gay
couple?' And what if it had an effect on how they dealt with people that
were different later on, after high school? It's likely that some of their
children could be gay, and what if they were so used to it by that point,
that they didn't hate their children for being what they are?

Thinking on that, one morning as I settled into my seat for Comp Sci, I
decided to let people look all they wanted. Not that I was going to put on
a show for them, but maybe a little gradual change would be good all
around. I figured I'd ask Mike if that was what me meant, as I opened the
foil-wrapped candy, distracted.

I had opened my locker that morning to find a pair of Hershey's Kisses,
both wrapped in red foil, along with another small note. "Miss You." Was
the message. Short, sweet, and to the point. I had snacked on the first one
on the way to class, and unwrapped the second at my computer.  "Hey," said
a voice to my right.

"Yo, Dan," I replied, turning to the side to give him a smile. Dan Cohen
always came across to me as someone who was as normal as one could get at
Weathering' he always looked to just be breezing through school, going
through the usual rituals of parties and girls while balancing
schoolwork. I'd seen him get a little intense during Finals, but then again
everyone did.

He ran a hand through straight, mousy brown hair, sinking into his chair as
he flipped the power switch to his computer. "S'up?"

I shrugged, showing him the small piece of chocolate in my hand. "Just..."
I said, then pursed my lips as embarrassment started to creep up on me
again. I wondered if Mike meant for the little presents to be just between
us, like the rose from before. I reminded myself again to thank him for
that as well. "A little pick-me-up," I finished, apologetic.

"Cool," Cohen said, chuckling at my discomfort. "Didn't mean to upset you,
man. Sorry."

"No, no," I said, and shook my head. "It wasn't anything you did. I..." I
trailed off, looked at him, and shrugged.

There was a hint of laughter in his features, especially those dark green
eyes. "I get it," he said. "Personal stuff." He turned in his chair,
leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. "I was wondering," he
said. "How are...like, things?"

I swallowed the candy, my mouth opening a little as I started to understand
what he was asking. "Oh," I said, with a short chuckle, "things are
good. My brother's almost done with finals, so he should be home in about
two weeks. Mike's...well, you know Mike."

Cohen nodded. "I do," he said. "So, anyone around here giving you any shit?
About you being with him?"

I shook my head again. "After Sandy, nope," I replied. "Maybe they're all
afraid of Dani," I added with a laugh.

"Hell, I am," Cohen said, snickering. "Remind me to never piss her off."

"It wasn't as fierce as rumor made it out to be." I said. At that point,
Ms. Samuels walked in, Mike right ahead of her, getting in just before the
teacher did. Had she gotten inside first, his grade for the day would have
been a zero automatically, no matter what kind of work he did. A little
harsh on the teacher's part, but it did keep us in line.

Cohen and I turned to watch Mike as he sat down. Cohen just chuckled,
shaking his head as I mumbled, "One last cigarette before class, huh?"

He just looked at me, and smiled wordlessly as any thoughts were driven out
my head as Ms. Samuels started class.

					*** By the second month in our
relationship, anything that anyone had to say had been said, and Mike and I
got through it relatively unscathed. I, for one, had started to find a
pattern to work my life into, since some sort of organization tended to
give me that safe feeling.

So, by Murphy's Law, it seemed that the rest of the world was hell-bent on
pushing the boundaries of that idyllic little paradise I built for myself
inside my head. Shane had actually learned how to use e-mail, and spent a
lot of his free time sending me dirty jokes, and links to nude sites. You
can take the brother out of the cave...

I was happily explaining this to Mike as we headed down the hall, going
over plans for that weekend. Mike was into the idea of me crashing at his
house Saturday and just renting movies.  "Okay," I said. "I'll raise you to
three movies, and a ton of all-night snuggles."

Mike raised an eyebrow at me. "The snuggling goes without saying. What did
you think, we were going to sit on opposite sides of the room all night?"

I felt myself turn red. I started to get mad at myself again. I was not a
child! I was sick of getting embarrassed over every little sweet thing he
did. Damn, I thought to myself. I really need help.

"No. Of course not. I-"

"There you are!"

Her voice was pleasant, overall, having a light musical quality to it. The
identity behind the voice didn't register immediately, since I could not
think of anyone offhand who spoke with a slight British accent. At that
point, I wanted to slam my head against the lockers, with the vain hope
that it would finally knock some intelligence back into my head.

When she's asked, Lisa Driesden will cheerfully describe herself as
Rubenesque. She stood about five-foot-ten, with a full figure, but still
managed to appear as if she were the paragon of grace. One of the greater
fallacies of human perception is that people who are overweight are
clumsy. But I had seen her dance, and I would always be the first one to
say that she knew how to move.

"It's easy," she'd always tell me. "If you love your body, and know it
well, you can do anything you want to."

At Weathering, she seemed a little out of place, sometimes. She didn't
couch the truth, and was one of the few people who was perfectly happy with
who they were. I had originally met her through Dani about two years ago,
since they had a shared interest in all things Pagan. Back then, Lisa
wasn't really happy with who she was, but having friends seemed to help her
through that.

As for why I was kicking myself again: last night, Lisa returned from
England, where she had been for the last six months as an exchange
student. I had completely forgotten she was coming home, and had spent most
of last night on the phone with Mike, since we got into this heavy
discussion of video game evolution, from Pac-Man on. And I never thought to
check my voice-mail after I hung up with him, since I pretty much crashed
right to sleep afterwards.

I took my eyes off of Mike to see Lisa striding towards us, clad in a
white, puffy-sleeved blouse and a dark blue pleated skirt. She had let her
hair, raven-colored with streaks of deep red, grow out a bit more. She had
done her hair in a flat braid, about the width of my hand, which started at
the back of her neck, and was draped over her right shoulder, curling over
her ample breast.

"Lisa," I started, immediately going over to hug her as Mike watched. "I'm
going to apologize now. I was on the phone til way late, and completely
forgot you were coming home." I sighed, looking at her face. Better that I
be honest about it. "So, how was merry old England?"

She pulled me into a hug. "It was fantastic. I can't wait to tell you all
the fun I had," she said, flippantly, her eyes going skyward in that
mock-innocent look.

At my pointed look of concern, she gave me a comforting smile. "Don't
worry, Jo," she said. "I was a good girl, and didn't fall."

I didn't even try to hide the look of relief that I shot back at her. "I
knew you could do it," I whispered, softly. "But, it doesn't change the
fact that I forgot to call you."

She chuckled. "I got in about nine last night, and was almost dead tired. I
kept getting your voice mail." She looked past me, as Mike gave her a
silent, friendly wave. "And if that's the Mike I heard about, I don't blame
you one bit for forgetting about me. *Mrrowl!*" she chimed, and waggled her
eyebrows suggestively.

My head swam as all the blood suddenly decided to drain from my
face. "Yeah. About that..."

"Don't worry," she said, hugging me and kissing me on the cheek before she
ambled towards Mike. "I called Dani last night, and she gave me the
run-down." She turned back towards me, with a twinkle of amusement on her
rounded face. "It's about 'time' you figured it out, Jonas. I thought I was
going to have to take drastic action." I was left dumbfounded, wondering
how people could know I was gay before 'I' did, when she turned to Mike,
extending her hand. "Lisa Driesden," she said, introducing herself, still
with the accent. Apparently, she picked it up while living in
London. Actually, it seemed to make her even more interesting than she
already was. Then again, I thought anyone who could discuss comics was
interesting, but she had made it into a science.

Mike took her hand by the fingertips, not clasping it in a handshake. He
slowly drew it to his face. "My lady," he breathed, beaming a smile, "would
that someone of your beauty has heard of someone humble like myself-"

"Humble? Who the hell are you kidding?" Oh, it was charming, but I had to
say it. Humble and Mike went together like Alfredo Sauce on Spam.

"Quiet, little peasant," Mike said, giving me a look that said `I'll get
you for that, and made it funnier. Lisa looked back at me, mouthing `Good
shot.' "Unlike you, I know how to greet a lady." He took a breath, and
still held Lisa's hand. "As I was saying, would that someone of your beauty
has heard of someone as humble as myself," he began again, the tone in his
voice daring me to interrupt him again. Later, I decided. "That is an honor
in itself," he added, pressing his lips to the back of her hand. "Mike
Bannon."

She sighed, over-dramatically. "Damn, Jo, you know how to pick them. Cute
as a button, and twice as charming." She beamed a smile at Mike. "You honor
me," she said, going along with it. "I've heard of you. Your infamy
precedes you, oh he who's turned Jonas' head." She took a breath. "Thank
you," she said, as I just looked on, lost. She didn't notice it as she
asked, "Mike, I know you don't know me, and until now I've only heard about
you from everyone else." Geez, how many people did she talk to last night?
"Can I talk to you alone for a moment?" Her entire posture shifted, as if
she looked slightly uncomfortable about what she wanted to say.

Mike nodded. "Sure," he said, not worried as she lead him down the hall.

"Jo, wait here," Lisa said as she started to lead Mike away. "Please?"

I nodded slowly. What was this all about? "Sure."

So, I leaned against the wall and waited. Mike and Lisa rounded one of the
corners, so I couldn't even get an idea from body language of what they
were talking about. But, I didn't have to wait all that long, since they
came back about five minutes later.

"So," I asked, as they came back. They were all smiles, the both of
them. "Have a good chat?"

"Yeah," Mike said, as if unsure of how to answer the question. It wasn't
that hard of a question, and I wondered what was up. "She...uh...wanted to
see us kiss.""

"Yeah!" Lisa chimed in. "I...really should have asked you. Just, I'm so
happy for you, and I'd been hoping..."

I raised an eyebrow at them, making one thing obvious: I was not
convinced. "That was it. You wanted to see us kiss."

"She did," Mike said, coming closer to me, and turned me to him. His smile
had dropped. "And I really, really want to kiss you right now, Jonas," he
said.

As I obliged him, I figured that one day, I'd get to the bottom of this,
and find out what they talked about.

					*** "So," I asked, pulling my legs
up to sit cross-legged on the couch in Mike's basement, the loose cuffs of
the pajama bottoms I was wearing, in colors of blues and reds in a
cross-hatch pattern. I adjusted the collar on the plain white T-shirt I was
wearing. "You and Lisa never met before the other day?"

"Nope," Mike said, finishing his can of beer, and putting it on the end
table while he hit pause on the DVD for Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon on
his player. "Never. And I'm not going to tell you what we talked about," he
added with a smile. "It was personal, okay?"

I nodded, defeated. But, all in all the night itself was going pretty
well. His parents had gone east to Atlantic City for an overnight trip,
leaving Mike and I in his place by ourselves. We just relaxed with movies,
ordered pizza, and split a six-pack of beer between us. And, with my body
weight being not all that much, I was feeling a little too cheerful, much
to Mike's amusement. "Okay," I said, capitulating. "I'll back off."

He nodded, taking a pack of cigarettes, and tossing it into my lap as he
fiddled with one, unlit, between his fingers. "Trust me, it wasn't anything
bad," he said. "But she's cool as hell," he added. "You have some kickass
friends."

I smiled. "Thanks," I said. I picked up the half-full pack in my hand,
looking at it for a moment before tossing it back to him. Since I had
started to be more honest with myself, things were clicking into place. "No
thanks," I said. "I...don't like it."

Mike looked a little curious. "No? Didn't bother you before."

"I know. Just..well." I said, shrugging. "I never really did like
cigarettes. Just...well, you offered, and I thought it would have been rude
to say anything."

Mike put down his own cigarette, still unlit, and crawled over to enfold me
in a hug. "Why didn't you say anything?" he asked.

"I didn't want you to think I was a wuss," I admitted. "I mean, even more
of a wuss, after you saw me crash my bike like that."

I felt him wince. "God. Jonas, promise me something. Don't do anything
because I do, okay? Don't change yourself because you think it will make
someone like you. Make your own decisions, okay?"

I nodded. Why did he take stuff like that so seriously? I didn't even take
it that seriously. I just didn't like it. "All right," I said, scooting
closer, planting a kiss on the nape of his neck. Mike kept his sleep
clothes as simple as I did, with sweats and a T-shirt. "Oh, I wanted to say
something," I said, as I remembered.

"What's that?"

I smiled, a little unsteady because of the beer. It felt...fuzzy, my jaw
feeling numb and tingly. "Thank you," I said.

Mike looked a little confused, again. "For what?"

"The flowers. And the candy. The stuff in my locker. It was really sweet."

Mike's face gained even more confusion. "I never put anything in your
locker."

I just smiled at him. How cute! All of a sudden, I just started chuckling
over the whole thing.  He shook his head, trying not to laugh
again. "You're drunk, aren't you?"

I sighed. "A little, I admit."

"Poor baby," he said, with his own chuckle as he hugged me again. "'Bout
time you sleep it off before you start making up more stuff." He put his
arm under my shoulder, and lifted me up, taking a blanket in his other
hand. He gently moved me down to the floor, laying me down as he draped the
blanket over us. Once there, I curled up on my side, pulling my body close
as I turned to face him. "That's cute," he said. "You're like a little kid
sometimes."

I snorted. "So, you going to read me a bedtime story, then?"

The silence was almost solid, after that question as he pulled me closer,
stroking my hair. I was feeling sleepy already, but his joke about me being
a little kid bugged me. I was starting to feel like I never did anything,
and always just let him touch me. Not that I didn't like it. I liked it a
lot in fact. But I was more reactive than proactive, and I had been wanting
to change that, too.

My thoughts were interrupted by a single sentence from Mike. '"I was
fourteen."

"Wait," I said, sitting up. As he sat up with me, I turned to him, placing
my fingers under the light cotton of his T-shirt, drawing my palms up his
chest as I removed it slowly, carefully, my eyes never leaving his.

"What are you doing?" he asked, lifting his arms. All the better for me to
get his shirt off, my dear.

"Trust me," I said, removing the article of clothing. Placing gentle hands
on his shoulders, I pushed him back down to the floor, so that he was lying
on his stomach. He let out a muffled moan as I climbed atop him, my hands
starting to slowly knead his shoulders.

"God, Jonas," he purred. "You have know idea how good that feels."

"You should feel what I do from this end, Mike," I answered.

"I do. Right in my lower back."

I felt my throat tighten. "Uh...sorry about that. I'm not the perfect
picture of control."

"You act like I'm not doing the same thing?"

My head lifted. "Uh..."

He laughed. "Relax, Jo. But yeah, I'm liking this way too much."

I sighed, pushing my palms against the muscles in his shoulders. "Cool," I
said. "So, you were saying."

There was a little more silence before Mike spoke up. "Well, when I was
fourteen, and a Freshman, I figured out I liked guys. Man...I was torn
up. I didn't tell anyone for months, and didn't know who to talk to."
Another pause. "So, I started hanging out online, and started talking to
people. You know, other gay kids, see how they dealt with it. A lot of them
were very friendly about it, since they went through the same thing. But
one...well, we really got to talking. All the time." He gulped, shifting
under my ministering hands. "Turns out, he and I went to the same high
school, but he was a Senior. We arranged to meet there, put faces to the
screen names."

I was stunned, and my hand slipped off his back to thump the floor against
him. This was a confession, unsolicited. Damn, this was serious shit he was
talking about, if this was what I think he was getting at. "You sure you
want to talk about this," I asked, starting to sober up slowly.

"Yeah. Even if your drunk ass keeps falling off me."

"Har har."

"Exactly. But, yeah. You deserve to know this," he replied, settling
down. "So, we met, and it was like some dream. He was cute, funny, and
older, so he knew everything. I mean, you're a freshman, you think that
way." He paused. "His name was Jace."

I stopped cold. "Jace? Wait, you mean-?"

"Yep," Mike admitted. "The same one who's friends with your brother." He
sighed. "Don't stop, Jonas. Your hands feel really good. But, as I was
saying, we met. And we got along well enough. Really well. He didn't even
have to ask, Jo. Within days, I went and gave myself to him."

I nodded. He had said he was with someone before. By that time, I had
accepted it in my own head, and was all right with it. He existed before I
met him, and I counted myself lucky to have him in my life. I started
massaging his back again, once my muscles started working. Any beer buzz I
had was pretty much gone. He needed me to be clean for this, I knew that
much.

"The sex was good," he said. "I mean, I lost my virginity that fast, and
fell in love even faster." Mike sighed, deeply. "No. I need to be honest. I
became obsessed. Jace, after that, became the be-all and end-all of my
existence. My world 'was' him, and nothing else. I followed him everywhere,
even when he was trying to push me away. But I just blinded myself to it,
and kept on him like a lost puppy. I...was really bad. It wasn't even love,
but I was so infatuated with him, and it was unhealthy. Especially since
all he wanted was a good lay." He let the silence speak for a time, as he
tried to find the words. "When he said that, that it was all fun and he
wasn't into love, or being my significant other, I was
destroyed. Utterly. Now...when I look back, maybe what he did wasn't all
that right, but I was not much better. I let my need take over my sense,
and latched onto the first guy that gave me any attention. Jonas...there
was one point where I did try to kill myself, because of him. I was that
fucked in the head." He gulped again, shaking. "I stopped, once Jace sent
one of his friends after me. Figured if I'd get beaten up, and knew it was
from him, I'd finally stay away. He had this friend. Big guy, name of
Shane."

I felt my stomach push against the back of my throat. "Oh...Christ. Mike,
if he hurt you, I swear to God-"

"No," Mike said. "It isn't what you think. Yeah, Jace did send your brother
to kick my ass. But, when Shane found me, I was outside, in back of the
school, bawling my eyes out because Jace didn't love me. I was crying all
the time by that point: at home, even in class, when I'd run out to go to
the bathroom so no one would see me. But, your brother didn't touch me,
Jo. I didn't even know you 'were' Shane's brother until I was inside your
house. I never knew, since I didn't remember Shane's last name. He saw me,
there, and talked to me. He told me that the hurt would stop, even if I
didn't believe him. He told me why he was there, and what Jace sent him to
do. But...he wouldn't do it, Jo. He said he wouldn't be some hired thug,
especially after some little kid who was hurting enough." He chuckled. "You
know, he told me he had a brother about my age, and that if anyone treated
his brother the way I had been treated, he'd kill him in a
heartbeat. Whatever you think, Jonas, your brother does love you, and he'd
do anything for you. He's a good man."

I felt myself shaking. The revelation, combined with the fact that my
brother knew all this, and apparently had a conscience, was getting to be
too much. "Fucking A..."

"It's okay. Calm down, please." Mike pleaded with me, making sure I was
relaxed before he went on. "Your brother drove me home, and told me...hell,
he 'begged' me to get help. Counseling, support groups, anything. He just
wanted me to get better, so I could live life again, since one rejection
wouldn't kill me." He sighed. "I spoke with him once, before he
graduated. I was seeing a therapist, and it was going well as I started
healing inside. Jo, he smiled, and he really gave a damn. Whatever you two
fight about, well, you're brothers. But he's good people."

I nodded, slowing my hands as I ground my palm into his lower back, which
got a few pleased grunts from him. "I know," I said. "Mike, thank you for
telling me this. It explains a lot. Like, how you treat me, and why you get
so serious about some things."

"Exactly," he said. "Jonas, you're fantastic, and I want to be with you not
as just a quick, loveless fuck. You're getting a lot better, but when this
started, I was seeing a lot of myself, the way I was, in you, and I'd die
before I continued that cycle. I had been hurt, and I didn't want anyone to
suffer the way I did. I don't want you making the same mistakes I did. I
want us to get this right."

I chuckled. "I get it," I said. "You've made some mistakes. We all have, at
one point. So, it's just another go-round on the Time Loop for us both."

"The what?"

As I sat there, straddling him as I gave him the massage, I explained my
Time Loop Theory: how we live our lives over and over again, trying to make
sure we don't make mistakes, so we get our final reward."

"You know," Mike said, chuckling. "That's pretty cool. I mean, it's a good
plan, and an excuse for me to make as many mistakes as possible."

I coughed, not understanding. "Say what?"

"Well, when you make a mistake, you get sent back to the start of your life
when you die, right?"

"Yeah."

"And you keep getting sent back, even if it's hundreds of thousands of
times, right?"

"Uh-huh."

"So," Mike said, nodding. "If I keep making mistakes, I'll keep coming back
to my life," he added. "And that means I'd keep coming back to you."

I froze, as everything in my body clenched. I stopped rubbing his back, as
I was overwhelmed with...damn near every emotion I've ever felt in my
life. All of it, every feeling came back and crashed over me like a tidal
wave. I hung my head, my breath rattling in my chest. The silence...there
was nothing else, except for a pair of sounds that went *spak* as the tears
that fell from my eyes landed against Mike's bare skin.

"Jonas," Mike said, feeling that. He twisted around, quickly, until he was
out from under me, squeezing my shoulders as I started to
cry. "Jonas...what's wrong? What's the matter?"

"I love you."

I didn't see his expression, since my eyes were still on the ground. "What
did you say," he asked.

"You heard me," I said, trying not to sob. "You...I'm not good with this
stuff, but I know this feeling. I do love you, Mike. If you think you can
say stuff like that, about coming back over and over for me...you can't say
that and not make me love you."

Mike nodded, and placed his fingers under my chin to lift my head. "Hey,"
he said. "That shouldn't make you cry, especially if you mean it."

"I do," I said. "And if you don't like it, then get over it."

He smiled, kissing me very softly on the lips, as he took his thumb and
wiped my tear-stained cheeks. "And I wouldn't have said it if I didn't love
you, too."

My eyes widened. Combined with the tears, everything was starting to
sting. "For real?"

"For real," he said. "I'd been waiting for the right time to tell you, and
I wasn't sure. Just...with Jace, that was puppy love. Immature, like I
was. This goes a lot deeper. It's not a need to be touched, or a need for
sex, or even to be needed. In a way, we nurture each other. We're becoming
our own people, with help from each other." He took a breath, some tears in
his own eyes. "I love you, Jonas."

I was lost. I was done. I was in love. For that night, while we didn't get
it on, we just stayed there, not saying a word, and comforted each other
until we fell asleep in each other's arms. We loved each other, and that
was enough.

-End chapter 6-