Date: Mon, 22 Aug 2005 09:42:47 -0700
From: edwine81@gmail.com
Subject: My Theory of Justice 4

My Theory of Justice
By: Edwin E.

Disclaimer: This story deals with male/male relationships in high school;
don't read if you're not supposed to. This story is complete fiction: the
people, places, situations, email addresses, etc, mentioned below never
existed. This is copyrighted to me.

Quick note: Though this story is chronological, it's not entirely
linear. But I'm sure that won't be a problem for y'all, right? :-)

Part IV: (re)acquaintance

"I'm surprised you don't wanna go to the game," Tanya said as she helped
Adrian pack.

"It's not a matter of not wanting to," he answered. "I signed up for this
Leadership Conference weeks ago. How was I to know I'd actually have a
vested interest in this game?"

"You could skip it. Aren't you the one that hates to miss school, anyway?"
She teased.

"I can't just ditch this thing - I'd look bad," he smiled. They both knew
Adrian's reputation among the teachers and administrators of Cassidy Prep,
was spot-free. He didn't mind if half the school hated him so long as the
adults - those in power - adored him.

"What time do you leave?"

"We're gonna meet here before heading off to school. I think we're supposed
to leave by 10:00."

"Wait, wait, wait. 'We?' I thought you said you couldn't get anyone else to
go to this stupid thing."

"Well, Miles is coming along," Adrian said.

Tanya chuckled slightly. "Well that makes sense. The poor guy's been
following you around like a lost puppy for years."

"Apparently he's the only one not filled with school spirit that he's
willing to miss the big game," Adrian said, ignoring Tanya's comment.

"Please!" She laughed. "I think he just wants to be filled by something
else. So this'll be nice: a weekend getaway to the City."

"We're not dating," Adrian made sure to point out. "We're just friends with
really excellent benefits."

"Yeah, well you should tell him that. It seems to me he might think it's
more."

"He thinks what I tell him to think," Adrian responded with some
annoyance. Tanya had been busting his balls the last year or so over his
trysts with Miles, but the judgment still peeved him a bit.

She just smiled and rolled her eyes. "Yeah, whatever. Anyways, I should
go. I don't wanna be here when you two... ahem, get together."

"Really? I know quite a few people who'd pay good money to watch," he said
with a wink.

"Gross!" Tanya exclaimed with mock disgust. "By the way, when do you get
back?"

"Sunday night."

"Okay. I'll see you Monday then," she said as she gave Adrian a quick peck
on the cheek and made her way out of the house.

It couldn't have been more than ten minutes later when Adrian heard his
name being called from downstairs. "I'm up here Miles!" Adrian yelled.

Miles was only a junior but still relatively popular amongst the senior
crowd (owing entirely to his association with his "mentor"). When The Split
occurred, he happily gave his allegiance to Adrian, who found Miles cute
and a project capable of keeping his mind off the drama. Their friendship
was clearly unequal, but only one of them knew it.

"Alright, I'm pretty much all packed; just need a couple more minutes,"
Adrian continued as he jammed a few more clothes into his bag.

"No rush," Miles responded as he leaned against the doorframe to Adrian's
room.

"Okay, I'm done. Did you-" Adrian stopped short as he turned and faced
Miles with an increasingly disapproving look apparent on his face.

"What?" Miles asked, a bit unsure.

"I thought I told you not to wear that crap," Adrian said, referring to
Miles' clothing emblazoned with the Abercrombie & Fitch logo.

"You were serious?" Miles answered with an unsteady smile.

"When am I not? Clothes make the man, right? You don't want to be that kind
of man."

"I think I look good," Miles rebutted as he entered Adrian's room and
checked himself out in the mirror. "Besides, everyone wears this shit."

"Exactly," Adrian said as he stood behind Miles and firmly placed his hands
on his shoulders. "Let the drones dress under the banner of mediocrity and
conformity. You wanna be great? You wanna take my place on the council next
year? Then you gotta be a nonconformist - have your own voice. Banality is
weak. Remember: 'Imitation is suicide.'"

Miles turned around to face Adrian, some irritation evident in his
face. "Well what would you suggest?"

"You need to get out of those clothes," Adrian stated matter-of-factly.

"You wanna help me with that?" Responded Miles.

Adrian could only smirk at the awkward delivery of such a tritely
"seductive" line. Nevertheless, there was a certain charming cuteness to
Miles' constant attempts at wooing or impressing.

Miles raised his arms as Adrian grabbed his shirt and lifted it over his
head. For being thinner (and a bit shorter) than the athletically built men
to whom Adrian was normally attracted, Miles did not lack in
definition. Adrian took off his own shirt and forcefully brought Miles to
him as they kissed - their skin sticking to one another. Adrian, being the
hands-on man that he is, kneaded and caressed Miles' back and chest. And
Miles, in reverence, did the same.

Miles panted and groaned as Adrian breathed on his neck while unfastening
his trendy-looking belt. As Adrian lowered Miles' pants, he heard a
crinkling sound coming from one of the pockets. He reached in; his lips
still attached to his friend, and found a condom.

"Prepared, eh?" He said with a smile.

"I was hoping we'd need it sometime this weekend," Miles whispered as he
got on his knees and began taking off Adrian's pants. Once they were both
completely naked, Miles stood up and they went at it again while letting
their dicks rub against one another.

Adrian, knowing full well that they were short on time, glanced at his
clock on the wall. He forcefully spun Miles around. "Fuck the foreplay," he
muttered as he bent Miles over the bed...

**********

"Ah, Mr. Kitsem, I'm so glad you got my message," began Mr. Barry, one of
the guidance counselors at Cassidy Prep. "Your records said you were moving
into town just yesterday, so I wasn't sure you'd be able to come down on
such short notice."

"I have to admit I'm a little confused sir," Jude stated hesitantly as he
took a seat in front of Mr. Barry's desk. "I thought I wasn't supposed to
start school until Monday. Is something wrong?"

"To be honest: yes," Mr. Barry answered. Upon seeing the worried look on
Jude's face, he continued quickly. "But it's nothing we can't handle. It's
just that the requirements for graduating from Cassidy are different than
the requirements of your former school. I'm afraid to say that you're
missing a few credits."

Jude remained silent for a second or two. "So what are my options?" He
asked very professionally.

Mr. Barry smiled. Most students would have been terribly upset at hearing
such news. Jude's demeanor impressed him. "The good news is that you've
already completed courses at your old school that we usually give to
seniors, like Economics and Civics. That, coupled with the fact that you've
already taken and passed the AP Calculus Exam, frees up your schedule quite
a bit for the credits you'll need to make up."

"So that's good, right?"

"Absolutely. Unfortunately, your senior year will not be as carefree as
some of your peers. You'll have more work than them, but glancing at your
grades and test scores, I'm sure you're up to the task."

"I don't mind a little hard work," Jude responded with a genial smile. "So
what courses do I need to take?"

"According to your records, you have no credits in visual or performing
arts. Cassidy requires one year of either, although two is highly
recommended. My suggestion is that you enroll in the Drama class because
you could get the credit you need plus it'll add an extracurricular
activity to your college applications. Since you still need more elective
credits, you can also take Yearbook, or a computer class, or music-"

"Music," Jude interrupted with eagerness. "I've taken private trumpet
lessons for years. If there's a jazz band, I'd like to take that."

Mr. Barry looked through the master schedule to see if Jude's request could
be accommodated. "Well, Jazz Band meets during the same period as your AP
Co mp and Lit class..." He stopped a moment to think. "Okay, this is what
we'll do. I'll talk to the English teacher, Ms. Banker, and the principal
about doing your AP work with Ms. Banker during her free period. This way
you can enroll in both courses."

"You sure it'll be alright, sir?" Jude asked.

"We've done it before with kids in similar situations as yourself. I'm sure
they'll both sign off. Ms. Banker is the most dedicated teacher we have, so
she's always willing to lend a helping hand. And the principal is the same
way."

"Great. That all sounds great," Jude said, sounding relieved. "Is there
anything else?"

"Are you interested in any other extracurricular activities besides drama
and music?"

"Um, well, I used to tutor at my old school."

"That's wonderful! If you'd like to take part, we have an unofficial
tutoring club."

"Unofficial?"

"Well, since tutors are paid for their services - it would be against
school policy to make it an official club. So I just keep the names of kids
who are interested in being tutors and match them whenever parents come
looking for one. If you'd like to join, just write down your name, email
address, and the subject you're most comfortable with and I'll contact you
if I can place you with someone."

"Sure, that sounds pretty good," said Jude as he jotted down his
information.

"Well Mr. Kitsem, I believe we're all set now," Mr. Barry said as he stood
up and shook hands with Jude. "If you'll excuse me, I'm chaperoning a trip
to a Leadership Conference and my students will be here any minute."

"Okay Mr. Barry. Thanks for all your help," Jude smiled. Mr. Barry nodded
graciously as Jude opened the door to leave.

Jude was busy staring down at his new tentative schedule when he saw two
boys come toward him rather briskly. He quickly adjusted his position so as
not to be in the way of one, but in doing so, he accidentally bumped
shoulders with the other.

"Sorry," the deep voice said as Jude instantly found his footing so as not
to fall embarrassingly.

"My fault," Jude acknowledged as he looked up.

Their eyes met for only a second: Adrian's eerie green and Jude's simple
brown. But there was not enough time for anything to register between
either of them. Both boys would have kept walking if Destiny hadn't caused
them to turn their heads after a few steps. They locked eyes again, only
momentarily, and from a greater distance.

Have you ever looked into a stranger's eyes, even if only for an instant,
and felt a sudden click - as if a lifetime of never having met could be
replaced with an intense appearance of always having known each other? Have
you ever had the chasm of indifference and isolation melt away? Have you
ever felt at home in eyes you've never seen?

Well this was nothing like that. If Adrian felt anything from the brief eye
contact, his face showed no hint. He had an expression of granite - the
same material his chiseled jaw and cheeks seemed to be made out of. Jude
also had no emotional response to speak of to this incredibly attractive
young man he had just seen. There was no clear connection: no interest, no
lust, and certainly no love (as some kids try to trick themselves into
believing).

But there was something - in the back of his mind.

Jude couldn't explain it because he had never experienced something like
that before. He had just looked upon a complete stranger, and had (what
could only be described as) a memory of the future.

**********

It was close to 5:00pm by the time Philip got home after having met with
Brad after school. He had decided to give him one final pep talk -
reminding him of the scouting reports of the other team and relaying last
minute tips and suggestions. Brad listened with a nervous smile, constantly
nodding his head. They talked some more about the game and Brad's
butterflies. Toward the end of the conversation, when Brad had to make his
way to the locker rooms, Philip gave him a final hug and wished him the
best of luck. He also left Brad with some final advice should Cassidy Prep
beat St. Ignatius Academy: "keep staying away from Adrian." Brad nodded his
head in passive agreement, his mind still mulling the unfairness of the
entire situation.

And it is unfair; that one night can determine the course of Brad's entire
senior year. How unfortunate it is that futures can be held hostage by
single events that take mere moments to develop and pass away. To add
insult to injury, the stakes in this particular case were so utterly
lopsided! If the team lost, Adrian would be granted free license to
blackmail and manipulate Brad to his heart and dick's content. But if Brad
helped the team win, if he pulled off the upset, there would be no cash
prize, no new car, no physical manifestation of his victory. He would
become popular enough to escape from the threatening vise of Adrian's
control - but that is all. He would still remain closeted, lonely, and
paranoid; the only difference being he'd have more people around him.

As Philip left Brad, he had to bite his lip from suggesting the only other
recourse at their disposal: coming out entirely. To do so would leave
Adrian with no leverage, and even more fear of having anything to do with
Brad. But it was painfully obvious to Philip that Brad wasn't ready for
that - even if it meant bypassing the frightfulness of the current
dilemma. If he still couldn't bring himself to come out to Philip, his most
trusted and open-minded friend, how could he come out to the world at
large?

These thoughts haunted Philip has he got home, took a shower, and plopped
down on the living room couch. He couldn't attend the game or else people
would be asking too many questions as to why he wasn't starting. If he
didn't attend, the speculation wouldn't be too bad: maybe he's sick, maybe
he's out of town, etc, etc. Unfortunately, seeing as how there was no media
coverage of the game, he would have to settle for updates from Amanda
through his celly in order to stay informed of the score.

He had expected to spend the night alone with pizza and his phone, seeing
as how his parents were out of town - again. So he was surprised when the
doorbell rang around the same time kick-off was supposed to take place.

When he opened the door, it took Philip several moments to recognize his
visitor. "Jude!" He exclaimed.

Jude smiled a wide, toothy grin - his dimples on full blast. "Hello there
Philip," he said very casually. The two stranger-friends embraced tightly.

"Come in! Come in!" Philip said. "When did you get into town? How did you
know I lived here?"

Philip's excitement assuaged the nervousness Jude felt about dropping by
uninvited. "Dad and I got into town yesterday. You mentioned in your
journal that you weren't gonna go to the game, so when I was at school this
morning to talk to the guidance counselor, I asked around to get your
address."

Jude walked into Philip's ample home and took off his overcoat. "I ordered
a pizza if you wanna stay and eat with me," Philip said.

"Uh, yeah, that'd be great," Jude accepted.

"Awesome," Philip said as he brought out a six-pack of soda.

The first fifteen minutes or so of the visit were unbearably
uncomfortable. They sat across from each other in the living room, drinking
soda, and staying silent. How does one react in this sort of dynamic? Here
were two incomprehensibly good-looking boys, who knew so much of each other
and yet had never met; they were privy to secrets and stories of each
other's lives and yet they never had to carry a face-to-face conversation
before. Both boys were confused.

"So..." Jude began with a nervous smile on his face and sweat forming on
his brow. "I guess this is kinda weird, huh?"

"A little bit," Philip nodded. "Hmm... I'm not being a very good host,
huh?"

"I guess not," Jude replied with sarcasm and a smile.

And just like that, the ice thawed. For two and a half hours Jude and
Philip got to know each other again. They talked and joked about Cassidy
Prep, the big game, and other random shit. The slow cultivation of their
online friendship was finally bearing fruit: there was no longer a veil to
keep them distant. As a result, Jude felt comfortable enough to as k Philip
about the drama that was going on in his life: who were 'A' and 'B' and why
was Philip so involved? To his credit, Philip opened up more than would
have been expected. He told Jude about Adrian, a little bit about their
past friendship and current active hostility. He also touched upon Brad's
situation (without outing Brad, of course). But once the answers to his
questions came in monosyllabic responses, Jude knew to take a step back; he
had a well-developed respect for personal space. Then the two went back to
laughing and just shooting the shit.

Though the two had spent so much time learning about each other over the
Internet, having this personal contact added such a necessary dimension to
their friendship. For example, Jude saw the little nuances in Philip's
sense of humor that couldn't be adequately conveyed over IM; he saw how
Philip's blue eyes sparkled brighter than in the grainy pictures they were
used to sending each other. Similarly, Philip no longer had to imagine what
an "LOL" from Jude sounded like: he could hear it for himself; he felt
Jude's smile radiate whereas the emoticons they used to use had seemed so
impersonal. This was definitely better than before.

It was toward the end of the night, when both boys were at their most
comfortable, that Jude saw something he had failed to notice. He reached
out his hand toward Philip's face and softly traced the scar above his left
temple, causing Philip to close his eyes and sigh deeply.

"You never told me about this," Jude said with unrestrained curiosity.

"I know," said Philip as he took Jude's hand off the scar and held it for a
second before quickly letting go. "I usually try to hide it as best I can
because the damn thing has never healed. That's why all the pictures you
see of me are at an angle."

"How did you get it?" Jude asked sincerely.

"Just, uh, a car accident - years ago," Philip answered.

Jude could sense there was a story behind it, but he didn't want to
push. They may have become super-fast friends, but each was still entitled
to some secrets. "Well, you know what they say: 'chicks love scars.'"

"Oh, yeah?" Philip smiled. "And what about guys?"

"I hear they like 'em too," Jude laughed. They gazed at each other's eyes
for longer than they had the entire night. Silent questions were being
asked, but neither seemed to have an answer. Suddenly, Philip's phone rang,
knocking him back into reality.

"Oh, shit! It's Amanda. The game's probably over by now." He hesitated in
answering. He didn't know whether the news he was about to hear would be
good or not.

Jude remained seated during the conversation and was able to surmise the
result of the game from Philip's reaction to the phone call...

**********

The workshops Adrian and Miles were attending were being held in the
conference rooms of their fancy hotel. When the final workshop let out for
the day, Adrian booked it to the nearest restroom - the one in the
lobby. As he relieved himself at a urinal, he turned his head to see Miles
follow him in. After ensuring they were alone, Miles stood behind Adrian
and started groping his front.

"Not now," Adrian said as he forcefully pushed Miles with his elbow.

"Sorry," Miles whispered with a disappointed look on his face. He took his
place at the urinal alongside Adrian and closed his eyes as he pissed. "So,
when?"

Adrian sighed. "When I tell you," he responded brusquely. "We can't just
mess around as if no one's gonna find out. Mr. Barry's around here
somewhere, remember? You still gotta be careful."

"I get it," Miles stated while Adrian moved to the sink. As he finished
drying his hands, his phone rang that unmistakable ditty that notified him
of a text message. He reached into his pocket and opened the phone. The
message, from Tanya, was simple:

'SORRY BABE. CASSIDY, 21. IGNATIUS, 20. BRAD RAN FINAL TD.'

"Fuckin' shit!" Adrian yelled as he punched the paper towel dispenser with
all his might. The force knocked the dispenser off its screws and sent it
flying toward the bathroom mirror, causing it to crack in multiple
places. Miles turned around quickly at the noise and just stared at Adrian
blankly. Miles wasn't necessarily surprised at what occurred because he had
grown accustomed to Adrian's explosions (though the fact that this one took
place in a relatively public place was unexpected).

"You okay?" Miles asked as Adrian's knuckles began turning a bit purple,
though luckily they weren't bleeding.

"Come on," Adrian said as he took hold of Miles' hand and led him out of
the restroom just in case his outburst brought some unwanted attention. The
reddish tint on Adrian's face indicated just how angry he was. So as they
climbed the steps to their room on the first floor, Miles stayed silent.
The speed at which Adrian limped through the hotel did get some curious
looks from other hotel guests, but none of that mattered now.

Adrian quickly unlocked the door and gestured for Miles to go in first.
Once inside, Adrian shut the door, locked it, and turned around. "Take off
your clothes and make sure you're quiet as hell," he said as he stripped
his own shirt and unfastened his belt.

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

To: "Jude F. Kitsem" <jfkitsem@xxxxxxx.org>
From: "Marcus Barry" <mbarry@cassidyprep.edu>

Subject: Tutoring Placement

Mr. Kitsem,

A parent just contacted me looking for an English tutor for her son. If you
wish it, the job is yours. I'm still at this Leadership Conference, so you
can either email me a confirmation or find me at school on Monday.

Here's some information on the off chance you're willing to accept the post.

Tutee: A. Altoman
Address: 268 Acts Ln.
Compensation: $20.00/hr.
Time commitment: 2 days a week/2 hours per day, beginning this Wednesday @
7:00pm

She wants an answer by Monday, so be sure to notify me.

Thanks,

Mr. Barry

<><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><>

TO BE CONTINUED...

Author's Notes: I hope everyone's enjoying the story so far. If you've
written me and haven't received a response, I apologize. I've been bogged
down by work that I sometimes forget to write back to people. Forgive
me... and keep writing me. :-)

edwine81@gmail.com

AIM: edtimoria