DISCLAIMER: The following story is a
fictional account involving teenage boys who are gay and trying to cope with
love and homophobia. Sexual activity takes place in this story and
there are references to gay sex, and anyone who is uncomfortable with this
should obviously not be reading it. With a few very obvious exceptions, all
characters are fictional and any resemblance to real people is purely
coincidental. Conversations with real individuals are strictly hypothetical and
not meant in any way to imply an actually conversation that has taken or might
take place. Although the senators in this story bear strong resemblances to
Senators Richard Lugar and Evan Bayh of Indiana, any references to their
beliefs are based on pure conjecture. Although the story takes place in actual
locations and establishments, the author takes full responsibility for all
events described and these are not in any way meant to reflect the activities
of real individuals or religious establishments, governmental nor school or
corporate policies. The author retains full copyright of this story, and of
stories based on these characters.
note that this is the twenty-first in a series of short stories known
collectively as Naptown Tales. The
series of stories can be found on my GayAuthors Page and on the Naptown
Tales Page at Awesome Dude.
Slightly modified versions of some of these stories that are suitable for
younger teens can also be found on the Altimexis Page at Codey's World. Please see the Introduction for important background on
Tale in Twelve Parts
Junior Politics - Will
What a life! Here I was, a college freshman
at the University of Chicago, studying Pre-law, and living in a gorgeous
high-rise condo that my parents bought me, right on Lakeshore Drive. I had a
spectacular view of Lake Michigan that afforded me the most incredible sunrise
views imaginable . . . not that I was ever up early enough to see the sun rise, mind you.
Yeah, I was living a life most people could
only dream of. I had a terrific
girlfriend. We went to parties every weekend and got high all the time. Man, it
was great. If only . . . if only . . . well, we just won't be going there.
I had my goals in life . . . and my
ambitions. My parents were real `limo liberals' and major donors to the
Democratic Party, and I had worked hard on the Obama campaign. I was going to
be a White House Intern this summer, and when I finished law school, if my
parents had anything to do with it, I'd clerk for the Supreme Court. After
that, I'd run for the State Assembly back home, and then the State House, and
then Congress or the Senate, and then it'd be on to the White House itself.
Yeah, my parents had it all figured out.
Hell, when I got down to it, it's what I wanted, too. Except for that one thing
. . . the one thing that could make it all fall apart.
Well, I wouldn't be the first gay politician, but no one can get elected to public office if they're openly gay.
Well, no one but Harvey Milk, anyway. Even Barney Frank waited until he was
well established in Congress before he came out, and you didn't see him running for president, now that he's out.
No, my path to the presidency, if I made it
that far, would be a lonely one. I'd have my affairs where I could find them,
but I'd have to be very discrete, and have a wife and kids for appearances,
like so many politicians before me. That was just the way it had to be. America
would never be ready to accept an openly gay president. No-one could ever know the truth about me, and so far no-one did. I'd had a few
encounters along the way, but they'd always been anonymous one-night stands.
Not even my parents knew.
The sound of my cell phone ringing brought
me out of my reverie. I answered it, to hear a very familiar voice. "Will, I
have a big favor to ask of you." It was Rahm Emanuel, the president's Chief of
Staff and the former Congressman from Illinois. Not only that, but he was a
personal friend of the family. It was Rahm who'd gotten me the internship position
for the summer. Most kids had to fight for these positions, but not me.
"'Sup, Rahm?" I asked. "What can I do for
"I have a couple of kids who'll be
interning at the White House along with you that I'd like you to take under
your wing this summer. Nice kids. Sharp kids. Kids who'll give you a run for
your money some day."
"Why do you need me to take them under my wing?" I asked. "I mean, if they're bright enough to get into the internship program, they certainly
don't need a chaperone to watch over them. I mean, we're all adults here."
"Well that's just it," Emanuel interrupted,
"they're not. They're just sixteen years old."
"What?" I practically shouted. "I thought you had
to be eighteen to even be eligible for the internship program. Are they some geniuses or something, to be in
college at their age?"
"No," Emanuel said with a laugh, "They're
still in high school, but I suspect they could probably qualify for college
entrance if they tried. Wait 'til you meet them, Will. They're something else.
Trust me. They're exceptional, which is why I invited them into the program.
They're going to go far."
"So you want me to babysit a couple of high
school juniors?" I said with obvious annoyance in my voice.
"Babysitting is hardly what I'd call it,"
Rahm spat back at me, "and it's just as likely that they'll be future movers and shakers in the Washington
establishment just as you'll be, so
getting to know them now couldn't
hurt. Consider it another political connection that'll serve you well in the
future. They're around your age, they're from the
Midwest like you. Hell, they're even gay!"
My throat started to close up and I could
barely breathe as the implications of what Emanuel had just said sunk in. Did
he just say what I thought he'd said? "G . . . gay?"
"Will, you're not obvious, if that's what
you're worried about, but it's my job
to notice things, like where someone's eyes wander. If you want to keep your
secret, you're going to have to be much more careful.
"Now David and Jeremy, on the other hand,
make no bones about being gay. They've taken the attitude that they can make it
in politics by being who they are. The surprising
thing is that they've managed quite well . . . even in the Midwest. David's the
president of his class, and they're both very popular in school from what I've
been told. Of course, their personalities probably have a lot to do with it.
"Times are changing, Will. When you meet
these boys, you'll see what I mean."
Although I wasn't crazy about the idea of
taking care of a couple of adolescents in the White House for the summer, I
wasn't about to protest any further to the man who'd gotten me the job,
especially when he was a family friend and now seemingly the one person who
knew my secret.
The next day, I got copies of David Reynolds' and Jeremy Kimball's application packets via DHL
Express, complete with attached color passport photos. God, they were both real
lookers. Why did they have to be so attractive? Couldn't they have looked like
geeks? David was particularly handsome, with hazel eyes, wavy brown hair and
ruggedly handsome facial features that highlighted a slightly crooked smile
that could melt any girl's, or guy's, heart. His stats listed him as six feet,
four inches and only one hundred seventy pounds. This guy was simply stunning.
Jeremy wasn't half-bad looking himself,
possessing the typical `California Surfer' look, with long, golden hair, blue
eyes, flawlessly smooth skin, and a dazzling smile. Even through his shirt, I
could see that he had unusually muscular shoulders and when I read his dossier,
I quickly understood why - he was his state's swimming champion. Measuring six
feet even in height and weighing one hundred sixty-five pounds, which I
imagined was all muscle; I was practically drooling at the thought of seeing
him in the flesh as well.
I'd definitely have to be careful not to
stare around these two. Besides which, I gathered they were a committed couple,
and the last thing I wanted was to be seen as trying to steal either one away
from the other. And of course I didn't want to be found out!
Included in the packet was a DVD video
interview with the two boys, and if I thought they were good looking in their
photos, I was literally mesmerized when I watched them on my 52-inch flat
screen TV. To say they interviewed well was an understatement. I could
instantly see why Emanuel was taken with them.
Jeremy was a little shy at first, but once
he got going, it was obvious that he was exceptionally smart and had an unusual
grasp of political issues for someone his age. He was a tried and true liberal
with a firm commitment to Democratic ideals and an extraordinary breadth of
knowledge when it came to world history. Rahm was right - Jeremy Kimball could
give me a run for the money, even with the two-year age difference.
David was another story entirely. He was
every bit as smart as Jeremy, but although he might not share the depth of
knowledge that Jeremy had, he had an absolutely dazzling personality and he had
one of the fastest minds I'd ever witnessed in anyone at any age. He literally
came up with answers on the spot that were clear, succinct, and often witty.
When I finished watching his interview, I knew he was someone special. I had no
doubt that he would be president someday. Even if he were gay, people would still
vote for him. I now understood how he was elected Class President at his high
school. I understood why both boys
were so popular. Hell, even I might
have come out if I'd had them for role models back home.
Jeremy and David epitomized the notion of
what was gay and cool - I'd never met anyone like that before, much less two.
They totally upended the old stereotypes. I could never pull off what they were
doing. For me, I would have to stay in the closet, but Jeremy and David were
definitely people I would want to have in my social network.
I would just have to find a way to keep my
hard-ons under control while around them . . .
Political First Focus - Kurt
I didn't think I'd ever been so nervous in
my life. What the fuck was I doing here? Me, Kurt DeWitt, an ordinary, fifteen-year-old gay teenager, and here I
was, sitting in the office of our state's junior senator. God, I wish Trevor
could have been here with me, but he had his own crisis to deal with.
As president of our high school's GSA, Trevor
often got calls to help with teens just coming to terms with being gay. I guess
some family was thrown into chaos when their fourteen-year-old son got caught
looking at internet porn. Gay porn.
'Course my own coming out story was pretty
dramatic . . . I told my story to the damn city, right on the front page of The Star, to a readership of some fifty
thousand. Yeah, my dad sure didn't take it too well, either. Oh, he already
knew about me and had plans to ship me down south to the Christian Academy to try
and make me straight, since the pastor of the Hope Evangelical Covenant Church
just couldn't have a gay son. Faced
with such a public humiliation, he just up and left town, leaving my mom, my
two brothers, and me, to deal with it on our own. Well, unlike Dad, we knew the true meaning of Christian
love. And so did my boyfriend, Trevor, who's also a member of our church.
I knew that he'd help that family deal with
having a gay son, but that meant I'd have to face the senator on my own for
this pre-summer internship interview, and that sucked - big time.
So here I was, sitting in the senator's
local office, waiting to be called in to meet with him. What was I doing here?
I actually had a chance to meet our senior
senator while some of our friends and I were on Spring Break last month in
Washington, D.C. My friend, Jeremy Kimball's dad arranged the whole thing, and
we all met with the senator, who's like the second highest-ranking Republican
senator on Capitol Hill, or something like that. He seemed like a real nice guy
and he arranged for a super knowledgeable tour guide to take us all around
Washington. We all had a great time.
What we all didn't expect, however, was for President Obama to show up while we
were meeting with the senator and, boy, did our friend, David Reynolds, give
the president a piece of his mind. Yeah, he sure told him what he thought about
his lack of a record on gay rights. By the time David got done with him, the
president's Chief of Staff was offering David and Jeremy, David's boyfriend,
summer internships at the White House. Whoa - none of us could believe it. I
mean, summer internships are hard to get, and they're supposed to be for
college students, but after David's performance, they decided to bend the rules
Then the senator really blew us away by
suggesting that Trevor and I could be summer pages in the Senate. Damn!
'Course, we didn't know it at the time, but that really opened up a can of
worms. Trevor more than qualifies - you have to be at least sixteen, have a 3.0
GPA and be a junior in high school. Well, no problem there, on all accounts, in
Trevor's case - in fact, he has a 3.93 GPA, near perfect scores on his SATs
and, having just finished his junior year, this is the last year he'd be
eligible for the summer page program.
I'm a different story, however. Oh, my
grades are good enough - my GPA's 3.87 - I just can't seem to get A's in gym,
dammit, but I'm only fifteen and I'll just be starting my sophomore year next
fall. I just didn't qualify, pure and simple. Not only that, but there are only
thirty pages allowed at a time, and they rarely allow two from the same state .
. . in fact, the only exceptions ever have been for twins. Something tells me
there'd be quite a scandal if they did it for boyfriends.
But the senator really, really had his heart set on both Trevor and me being pages this
summer, for both of the three-week
summer sessions. And that's another thing - I felt kind of funny about taking two spots from someone else. There's a
reason they split the summer in two like that, so that more kids can get a
chance to be pages. The program is highly competitive, but the senator really
thought we should spend all six weeks in the program . . . that we had
`exceptional potential', as he put it.
Well, the only option was for me to be a
page in the House of Representatives instead of the Senate, but what would have
been the good of that . . . or for me to page for our state's junior senator, who was a Democrat. Not
that I had anything against the Democrats or anything - in fact, I'd helped out
with Obama's campaign, but I came from a family of lifelong Republicans and my
beliefs were much more aligned with the Republicans and this was just foreign
territory to me.
I just wasn't sure how I felt about working for a Democratic senator is all.
And waiting in his office really sucked.
The incessant ticking of the grandfather clock was just driving me nuts!
Finally, the door opened and the senator appeared with a man at his side.
"I wish I could help you, Ralph," the
senator said to the man, "but there just isn't money left over in the budget,
now that we've put so much into the stimulus package. Bailing out Detroit,
bailing out the banking industry, bailing out failed mortgages, bailing out
consumer debt. . . . I know this state loved the man, but George W. did more
harm to the economy in eight years than you could ever imagine. And you know I tried to warn you, too . . . but I'm
not one to say, `I told you so'," the senator said with a smile. Sighing, he
continued, "So when it comes to farm subsidies, I'll do what I can to keep the
president from pulling the plug, but you know as well as I that he's not at all
sympathetic to agribusiness. Family farms are different matter, but the people
you represent are no `mom and pop' operation.
"Sell your land back to the families you
bankrupted in the last century," the senator said with a sly smile, "and then
we can talk."
"You little bastard," the man named Ralph
said as he lightly punched the senator in the shoulder."
"Hey, we all do what we have to, to
survive," the senator said. "And be sure to give my best to Susan and the
kids," he added.
After the man had left, the senator came up
to me and I rose to my feet. The senator was easily over six feet, so that he
towered over my five-foot, nine inches. At least Trevor was only five-eleven,
so around him I wasn't nearly so height-conscious. But then the senator reached
out with his hand and grasped mine firmly and smiled at me with one of the
warmest, most genuine smiles I'd seen in a while, as he said, "Kurt DeWitt,
I've heard so much about you from Dick. It's a genuine pleasure to finally meet
As we shook hands, he continued with, "Come
into my office and we can chat for a bit and get to know each other better."
The junior senator led me into his office
with a gentle, fatherly push of his hand on the small of my back. His office
had rich, dark paneling and a surprisingly homey feel to it with a large, but
unobtrusive oak desk tucked in the corner, out of the way. Taking up most of the
office were a leather sofa and chairs around a coffee table. It looked more
like a living room than an office. I immediately took a liking to the senator,
although I didn't know why.
"Well, Kurt," the senator began with a
smile, "I understand you're a Republican, but I certainly won't hold that
against you in this state, of all places."
"Senator," I said, "truthfully, I was
raised in a very conservative Evangelical Christian home. My father was the
pastor of our church, and when he discovered his youngest son was gay, he made
arrangements to ship me away for a little `reprogramming'. The thing is, I
still have conservative Christian values, but I believe in Christian values as
Christ himself taught them. I also believe the Bible was written by men, and
has been subject to reinterpretation through the ages.
"I may have conservative values, but I
carry liberal ideals, and it's the blend of these philosophies that makes me
what I am today. I champion gay rights, and women's rights, and equality for
all. That said, I believe there should be limits. Teenagers are not ready to be
parents, but abortion is not the answer to teen pregnancies. My Evangelical
peers do not want to teach about condom use in schools, but if we don't, we
risk spreading HIV. I believe in pragmatism. First and foremost, we must teach
abstinence, but abstinence only goes so far, and for that reason, condoms need
to be freely available. More than anything, however, parents need to be
comfortable talking to their kids. That alone would do more to prevent the spread of HIV and teen pregnancies than all
the rhetoric and condom use, combined.
"Tell me, is that a Republican viewpoint,
or is that a Democratic viewpoint?" I asked.
"That's an interesting social philosophy,
Kurt," the senator said, "especially coming from a lad of your age. I'm
probably a bit more liberal than you are on social issues, but not by much, and
rather conservative on fiscal issues."
"I'm very much a fiscal conservative," I
volunteered. "In fact, that's one of the things that really bothers me about
the mess we're in right now. I never did understand the logic of cutting taxes.
I generally like the small government message of the Republican Party, but
supply side economics were this country's ruin, and deregulation turned out to
be a disaster. As my friend, Jeremy Kimball likes to say, we may never know how
much money was lost through schemes on Wall Street that amounted to nothing
more than legalized money laundering. It just sucked money out of the economy
and fueled speculation.
"Now we're being forced to borrow from our
future, just to survive, and it'll be our children who have to pay the price for our foolishness. I'm just not sure the stimulus
plan will even work. Don't get me wrong . . . my friends and I all supported
Obama . . . McCain's strategies would have only made things worse, but things
look pretty bleak right now."
"Kurt," the senator said, "you and I see
precisely eye-to-eye when it comes to the economy, which is pretty amazing
considering you're just finishing up your freshman year in high school. You're
a pretty smart guy.
"Now as you know, the Page Program is
supposed to be for high school juniors, and you have to be sixteen to be
eligible, so you don't really qualify."
I looked down at the floor when he said
that and my heart sank, even though it was the answer I was expecting.
"And I didn't like the idea of being
strong-armed into taking someone from across the aisle when there are so many
kids who are deserving, particularly when Dick said he thought you ought to
page for the full summer and not just three weeks.
"Since there are so few pages, getting two
from one state, particularly a smaller state, can be tough, but both Dick and I
have seniority, and my party's in power, and you and Trevor both have
impressive backgrounds . . . but now there's the little matter of the
Congressional Gold Medal that should more or less cinch it for you."
It took a minute for what the senator had
said to sink in, and even then I still wasn't grasping it.
"Congressional Gold Medal?" I finally
"Yes, Kurt, the Congressional Gold Medal.
As soon as you get to Washington, one of the first things it will be my
pleasure to do will be to participate in a ceremony awarding you the
Congressional Gold Medal.
"Actually President Obama had planned to
award you the Young American Medal for Bravery, which `recognizes individuals
exhibiting exceptional courage, extraordinary decision making, presence of
mind, and unusual swiftness of action, regardless of their own personal safety,
to save a person whose life was in actual imminent danger', and you certainly
do qualify for that and will be receiving the Presidential Medal as well, but
Dick and I felt what you did went far beyond just saving young Sam Franklin's
"Not only did you perform a selfless act of
bravery without any hesitation to save young Sam, but your swift action
resulted in saving countless other lives as well, and you went to extraordinary lengths to ensure the perpetrator's
capture, but you didn't stop there, either, did you? So many people, even
adults, go into hiding after they've been raped. You, however, have spoken out
about your experience. You've helped countless others, and allowed your
presentation to be made into a DVD.
"And still, you continue to give of
yourself, volunteering, counseling, and your story is even the focus of an
upcoming edition of Frontline, to be
aired on PBS, is that not right?" he asked.
"Well, yes," I admitted, "but what I did
was pretty stupid. It's just that telling my story is a way for something good to come of it, you know? I can't
change what happened . . . all the bad things that that pedophile did to all
those kids. I can't make up for the kids that are now HIV-positive and I can't
change the fact that I was raped. By telling my story, I can `pay it forward',
as they say. Maybe I can give other kids the knowledge to keep something like
this from happening to them."
"Kurt, you're an amazing young man. To save
a life is one thing, but you possibly saved many lives, and since then you've
been using your story to potentially save countless more, and for that the nation is grateful. The
Congressional Gold Medal is the highest civilian honor the Congress can bestow
on one of its citizens. Both Dick and I sponsored your nomination, and it
sailed through both houses.
"The courage you possess is a rarity, Kurt,
particularly in someone so young. You are more than deserving of the page
position this summer, and of being able to be a page in the Senate at the same
time as your boyfriend.
"There's one thing I must caution you
about, however, my young man. There have been numerous scandals in the past
involving the Page Program, and the news media in Washington love nothing more
than a scandal. If there's even a hint of a scandal, they will be all over it in the blink of an eye.
"Twenty years ago, there was a huge scandal
involving pages and gay sex . . . that some Congressmen were getting it on with
some of the male pages. Even today, it's not cool for some politicians to be
out, and there's only one openly gay man in Congress. The reality of course is
that there are as many gay senators and representatives as there are in the
general population; nearly all of whom are in the closet. Some of them are
known to the rest of us and very discrete about their affairs, but others are
deeply in hiding for a variety of reasons.
"Having openly gay pages on the floor of
the Senate could present a problem in two ways. Firstly, it could present a
temptation to the more deeply closeted members, and you have to figure there
are some ten gay senators, which could lead to embarrassing situations.
Politicians, after all, have been known to have their zipper problems.
Secondly, if the news media were to get wind of you guys, there could be the assumption of a scandal before anything
"Senator," I responded, "Trevor and I are out. We've been out for a long time.
Everyone knows about us at school. Heck, I came out on the front page of The Star a year a go at New Years. That
kind of news is bound to catch up with us. I mean, it's not like we're flamers
or anything, but we have no desire to go back in the closet, and I'm not sure
we could ever put the genie back in the bottle, even if we wanted to. Most
importantly though, we're monogamous . . . there's no way we'd be unfaithful to
"Are you saying you'd disqualify us for the
Page Program, just because we're out?"
"No, not at all," the senator said. "In
fact, if you wanted to show up in drag, although I'm sure some of the senators
would have a problem with it, so long as it was in the female page uniform, we
couldn't discriminate against you for it. I just suggest you be discrete is
"Senator, Trevor and I will do the best we
can, but with four gay guys sharing
an apartment, I fear that word's bound to get out eventually."
"Who said you'd be staying in an
apartment?" the senator asked. "No, no, no, we'd never put you up in an apartment. For one thing, the rents in the
district are astronomical. For another, there's the whole safety issue. We
can't have sixteen-year-olds running around unsupervised. The parents would
give us hell. No, we have a couple of dormitories set up, just for the Page
Program. One for the Senate, and one for the House."
This was definitely news to me. I was
really looking forward to the four of us being free and on our own for the
summer, and now it turned out we'd be under adult supervision after all. And
there was the matter of David and Jeremy, who would be interning in the White
House. Where did they fit in?
"Senator, what about our friends, David
Reynolds and Jeremy Kimball? They'll be interning at the White House. I thought
the whole idea was that we'd all be sharing an apartment nearby, like maybe at
the Watergate or something."
The senator chuckled and said, "And how
many millions do you have available to spend on an apartment at the Watergate?
You might be able to rent a tiny flat on Capitol Hill . . . more of a dive
actually, in a not so nice neighborhood that's recently been gentrified, but
there's no need for that. We'll be putting you all up in Daniel Webster Hall,
right near the Hart Office Building where I have my Washington office.
You'll all have your own dorm room with a private bath for the four of you, and
for your $600 per month each, you'll get breakfast and dinner included, so it's
a pretty good deal. Now as far as your friends are concerned, even though the
residence is intended for Senate pages, it's a very straight shot up
Pennsylvania Avenue to the White House. They'll have full use of the limos we
all use to get back and forth between the White House and the Hill."
"What about parking for our cars?" I asked.
"Not that I have a car, since I don't have a license. In fact, I'll be missing
out on Driver's Ed this year but, hey, the internship is way more important. I'll go to a private driving school if I have
to. Trevor, however, wanted to bring his Jetta with him, and David and Jeremy
wanted to bring at least one of their cars along. . . ."
Shaking his head, the senator said, "Sorry
to disappoint you boys, but the answer is, `No'. Private cars are not allowed
to be kept by the pages, unless they stay off-site and live locally with a
relative or adult friend, and even then, they are not provided with parking.
But why would you want to drive in
Washington?" the senator asked. Putting up his hands in a defensive manner, he
answered his own question saying, "I know, you're teenagers, but a car is a
liability `inside the beltway'. We have an excellent Metro and you can
literally get everywhere without the need of a car. I strongly suggest you take
advantage of all that DC has to offer by Metro and by bus," he said.
"So does this mean I'm in?" I asked.
"No, Kurt," the senator said, "it's a
highly competitive application process, but I seriously doubt that any of the
other applicants will have a Congressional Gold Medal," he said with a grin.
"You and Trevor, with recommendations from one of the most senior members of
the Senate and from the President himself stand to be near the top of the
applicant pool. Seriously, I'll look forward to working with you this summer."
The senator shook my hand firmly and showed
me to the door. It was a good interview and he had me smiling to myself.
Bringing Up Brother - David
"Jer, slow down!" I shouted as we
accelerated around a tight curve on Allisonville Road. "You're going close to
eighty miles an hour!"
"Relax, Dave," my boyfriend shouted back to
me over the sound of the wind rushing by. "The speed limit's sixty, so I'm not
speeding by that much."
It had only been a week since Jeremy got
his license, and as a present for his sixteenth birthday, his parents had
gotten him a red Porsche Boxter convertible. It was a really sweet ride, but
then it should be, at close to $50k. Me, well, with my father having just
started a new job at less than half what he'd made before, and me doing a
summer internship at the White House instead of a real job with real pay, I was
going to have to wait a while to get my own set of wheels. But I didn't mind .
. . I didn't mind one bit. I loved the thought that we'd be spending our summer
in the nation's capital, together, and right now I was with the boy I loved and
he was having a blast driving his new toy.
Suddenly, there was the sound of a siren
behind us and I caught a glimpse of a flash of blue in the rear view.
"Oh shit," Jeremy said in that cute voice
of his as he pulled over to the side of the road. When we came to a stop, Jer
unfastened his seatbelt and reached for the glove box, retrieving the vehicle
registration from inside. "I am going to be sooo grounded when Dad finds out about this," he added.
"It's not like I didn't warn you," I said
with a smirk.
The police officer stood behind us for what
seemed like forever, writing stuff down, and then he approached Jeremy's side
of the car.
"Hand me your license and registration,
please," he said matter-of-factly.
After the officer had looked at Jeremy's
license for a few seconds, and then looked back and forth between the license
and Jeremy for a bit, he asked, "Are you by any chance related to Tom Kimball?"
"He's my dad," Jeremy answered.
Shaking his head, the officer said, "The
Chief would have my head if I gave a ticket to the kid of one of the biggest
benefactors of the Fraternal Order of Police, but Geez, less than a week after
getting your license? If you were my kid, I'd ground you for a year for driving
like that. 'Course if you were my kid, I couldn't afford to have you driving a
Porsche, either. No kid should have
this much horsepower in their hands . . . especially a boy. It's just too much
temptation. Believe me, I don't want to read about you on the obituary page
"Then write me the ticket," Jeremy said. "I
don't want any favors, just because of who my father is. I can't learn
responsibility unless there`s consequences. I'm not just some spoiled teenager
. . . my dad won't blame you for doing what's right. I was having fun without
thinking about the danger. If a kid had run out in front of me, I'd have never
Smiling at Jeremy, the officer replied,
"Although a ticket would put you within one infraction of losing your license,
I think a warning will suffice. For one thing, your father will know about it,
and since a fine probably means little to him, he can come up with a much more
fitting way to deal with this episode. Secondly, I think you've already
realized just how serious speeding can actually be. I do not like the idea of
someone so young driving a car like this; sooner or later you're going to have
to learn to deal with handling this kind of power . . . power that can kill.
"With the money your family has, that kinda
applies to life, doesn't it? You might as well start to learn how to handle
that kind of power, you know."
Although Jer was facing away from me, I
could see by his body language that what the officer was saying was really
sinking in and having an influence on him. It kind of affected me, too. It was
a profound metaphor.
"One other thing, Jeremy," the officer said
as he handed his license and registration back to him, along with the written
warning, "I noticed you removed your seatbelt as soon as you pulled over to the
side of the road. When you do that, you have no way to prove you were wearing
it while you were driving. A lot of unscrupulous police officers will cite you
for failure to wear a seatbelt, just because you don't have it on when they
approach your vehicle. Not that I expect you to face this situation again, but
if you ever are pulled over again, never, ever, remove your seatbelt until
the officer asks you for your license and registration. Then and only then
should you remove it."
"Wow," Jer said, "I had no idea."
"Most people don't," the officer said, "and
they often get stuck with an extra ticket because of it."
After the police car had pulled away,
Jeremy sighed loudly and said, "Phew, my heart's finally starting to slow back
"He's a good cop Jer. I'm sure this car's a
lot of fun to drive," I said, "but from now on, I think you'd better stick to
the speed limit."
Before I knew what was happening, Jeremy
had opened his door and was standing next to me, on my side of the car.
"All right, Mr. genius that I love, since
you know what's best for me, let's see how you do at driving my car."
"What?" I asked incredulously.
"Seriously, Dave, I was going to let you
take a turn at driving it, anyway. You're my boyfriend, and I want you to
experience driving it . . . it's a real rush. After making that comment,
though, your chance to drive it is now!"
Jer just stood there grinning at me,
waiting for me to get out.
"I'm not sure if I'm even insured to drive
this thing," I cautioned.
"You're covered on your parents' insurance,
"Well, yeah," I answered.
"And my parents put full insurance on this
baby . . . you can believe it, so we're all set. We have a huge umbrella policy, too. Something like ten million for just
about any and all contingencies. No worries, Dave, just enjoy."
Finally, I realized what Jeremy was asking
of me, and a huge grin split my face. I was going to get to drive his Porsche
Boxter. Rather than opening the door, I literally leapt over it in my
enthusiasm and ran around to the other side, jumping over the driver's side
door and into the driver's seat. I had to make quite a few adjustments, since I
was a good four inches taller than my boyfriend, but then we were ready to
Man, did that car take off like a rocket.
When I looked down at the speedometer, I was sooo embarrassed - we were already going 86 and accelerating - so I
eased off the gas and dropped back down to a more acceptable 65. I couldn't
believe how well this baby handled compared to my parents' cars, although we
felt every little dip and bump in the road. It was also sobering to realize
that as low to the ground as we were, a lot of bigger cars, particularly the
SUVs, just didn't see us. More than once, I had to quickly swerve to avoid
someone slamming into us. Man, that was scary.
"So what do you wanna do now?" I asked.
"Shall we head over to your place for a little fun?" I suggested as I raised my
Shaking his head, Jer said, "I think our
brothers are both over there. Let's head over to your place."
"Sounds good to me," I said as I cut across
on 91st street. Yeah, it didn't take much and I was always up for a
little fun in the sack with my lover. Besides, in only a few days we'd be
leaving for Washington to start our internships. Even though we'd be mostly on
our own, sharing a room with Trevor and Kurt would definitely put a crimp in
our style. Even though Trevor and Kurt were very good friends and even though
they were both gay, we'd definitely have a lot less privacy than we were used
to. Jeremy and I were committed to one another just as Trevor and Kurt were,
and we were definitely not into group
sex or interested in any kind of partner swapping. Once I fell in love with
Jer, that was it for me.
Pulling into our driveway, I left the car
in gear and applied the parking brake. Even though it didn't look like rain,
knowing how true the old joke could be about our climate having four seasons
and that they sometimes came all in one day, I put the top up before I locked
the car and threw the keys back to Jeremy. We headed inside and shared a
passionate kiss as soon as we were inside the door.
"Mmmm . . ." I purred into his mouth. "I
will never, ever grow tired of the feel of your lips on mine."
"Or the silky texture of your tongue
sliding against mine." Jeremy responded.
Yes, there was no doubt about it; we were
so much in love. We were boyfriends all right, but so much more. We'd known
each other for nearly two years, now, but we both knew that we would be
together forever. We'd already been making plans to choose our colleges
together . . . to plan our careers together. We'd be getting married, so I
guess that made us fiancés, but that was only a formality as far as we were
concerned. We wanted to see gay marriage legalized because we felt it was our right, but in our eyes, we were already married. When we were ready,
we'd have children and raise a family. Someday, we hoped we'd be grandparents.
Whoa, here we were, sixteen-year-old
teenagers, and I was already thinking about being a grandpa. Talk about getting
ahead of myself. I dunno, it just was such a turn-on for me. It just seemed so
domestic or something. I was making out with my boyfriend, loving him to pieces
and we were grinding our crotches together and it was taking all my willpower
to keep me from shooting my load right then and there.
"You sure are one horny devil," Jeremy said
as he reached down and lovingly felt me through my shorts.
"So are you," I said as I did likewise.
"Come on, let's hit my bedroom and lose
these clothes," I suggested.
Jeremy giggled as he took my hand and
pulled me in the direction of my bedroom, the shameless bulge in his shorts
leading the way.
Even though there was no one home, I still
closed my bedroom door and locked it. Our mouths were instantly connected once
again for a brief moment, but then we separated just long enough to strip each
other of our shirts and to toe off our shoes.
We lay on my bed and made ourselves
comfortable as we again started to make out, with only our shorts and boxers
left to hide the throbbing erections that told the story of the love, passion
and excitement we shared for each other. Even then, a wet spot was starting to
soak through my shorts, and I knew I had better remove what little clothing I
had left before the cum stains became more obvious.
As I was just about to do so, I noticed
that the door to the bathroom I shared with my brother was wide open, and that
the door to his bedroom was ajar.
"I'd better go close the connecting door to
Brad's bedroom, just in case he comes home early," I suggested.
"Good idea," Jeremy agreed.
Not expecting anyone else to be home, I
literally froze in my tracks as I reached for the door to my brother's bedroom
and started to close it. The door was just open enough that I could see my
brother's bed, and what I saw was a shock. My brother and a girl were lying naked, on top of his
bed, making out. Holy fuck, now what
was I supposed to do?
Brad was only thirteen. He was too young to
be having sex with a girl. On the other hand, Jeremy and I had been sexually
active since we were fourteen, so what was the big deal? On the other hand,
Jeremy couldn't get pregnant, but on the other hand, we could get AIDS just as
easily as Brad could. Shit, should I just close both bathroom doors as quietly
as I could and pretend I didn't see anything?
Before I could decide on a course of
action, however, Jeremy took the decision away from me by sneaking up behind
me, touching me, startling me in the process and asking me, "David, what's wrong?"
Of course, when Jer touched me, I just
about leapt twenty feet into the air and screamed in surprise at the same time.
So much for keeping quiet. So much for discretion. At least I did end up closing the door in the
process, but the end result was a loud girl's scream from inside, and Brad
could clearly be heard to shout, "What the fuck?"
Knocking gently on the door, I said, "Brad,
I'm sorry, but we thought you were over at Jeremy's place with Cliff.
Otherwise, we'd have gone over there. We didn't mean to startle you, bro.
I heard some rustling from inside, and then
Brad entered the bathroom, wearing only his boxers.
"I'm sooo embarrassed," was all Brad said as he sat down on the toilet seat. "I thought
you guys would be halfway to Chicago by now. I never expected you to show up
"We might have been," Jeremy said with a
smirk, "if I hadn't gotten stopped for speeding."
"Oh man, you serious?" Brad asked. "No
wonder you came back here."
"The cop knew who Jer's dad was, and let
him off with a warning," I filled Brad in.
"Money sure talks," Brad sighed.
"I'd rather have gotten the ticket, and
faced the wrath of a father who was around enough to care to ground me, and
make me work to buy my own car, than
to have all this money poured on me," Jeremy lamented.
"Yeah, I guess it sucks to be you," Brad
"No it doesn't," I protested.
"You're right Dave," Jeremy said in
realization. "To be sure, I'd rather have parents who were around once in a
while than have the huge mansion and the fancy car and all. But, when it comes
to what's really important, I've got
the most precious thing of all . . . the true love of a lifetime."
"And don't ever forget it," I said as I
drew my boyfriend into a hug and kissed him deeply.
"Um, guys," Brad said, clearing his throat.
"What are you going to do about what you saw?
"Yes, well, there is that," I said with a
bit of a laugh. "Why don't you guys put your clothes on, and we can all meet in
the family room in, say, five minutes and talk about it?"
"Yes, Mommy," Brad agreed with a smirk as
he slipped back inside his bedroom.
"Well, so much for our privacy, I said as I
turned to face Jeremy, giving him a kiss one final time before we headed back
into my own room to put our clothes on.
After Jeremy and I had dressed, I headed
into the kitchen and grabbed four sets of glasses and a one-liter bottle of
Coke Zero. I also got out some hummus and some baked tortilla chips - now that was my idea of a perfect snack.
We were joined shortly thereafter by a
sheepish-looking Brad, and a very cute African-American girl who appeared to be
about Brad's age.
"Come on in, guys. I won't bite," I said
with a laugh. "I'm David, Brad's brother, and this is my boyfriend, Jeremy."
The girl got a really surprised look on her
face and said, "My God, it's true. I mean I'd heard rumors, but it's really
true . . . Brad . . . your brother
really is a fag."
OK, this was not going well. Turning to her I said, "I caught you in bed with my
brother, and yet I've extended you my hospitality, and you're already calling
me names? I don't even know your name yet. Now, if either you or my brother had
any manners, I should at least know that much by now."
Finally, my brother's brain kicked into
gear and he said, "Charisse. David, I'd like you to meet Charisse, and I'd like
to apologize for her calling you that. Believe me, after today she's gonna know
just how much I love my gay brother, and how wrong it is to call someone a
"What do you mean it's wrong," she said,
"and how can you stand to share a bathroom with him? Why haven't your parents
done something about him, anyway? Why don't they get him fixed, or something?"
"Boy are you naïve," Brad said. "That'd be like having you fixed, to make
"Why would I need to be fixed because I'm
black?" she asked. "There's nothing wrong with me being black, but there is something wrong with being a faggot.
All you have to do is read the Bible."
"Charisse," Brad sighed, "so many wars have
been fought in God's name based on what was written in one version of the Bible,
the Quran, or other religious books and manuscripts. I'm not even going to go
there, except to say this. . . . The South invoked the Bible to fight the North
in the Civil War because the Bible said it was justified to own slaves. They
said the Bible made it OK to own your ancestors. It was the very same section
of the Bible that supposedly claims homosexuality is a sin.
"Parts of the Bible were inspired by God,
but parts of the Bible were rewritten by people to suit their own needs over
the millennia. They used it to justify owning slaves, or to justify keeping
people down, or to justify prejudice against those they didn't understand."
"That still doesn't change the fact that
fags are disgusting," Charisse insisted.
"My brother is one of the most accepting
people I know," I said to Charisse. "Not many people can look beyond race and
yet, knowing him, the color of your skin never even entered his consciousness
when it came to choosing a girlfriend. You on the other hand are being out and
"How dare you call me a racist, you
faggot," she spat at me.
"I think you'd better go," Brad said.
"Don't worry," she said, "I have no
intention of staying. And by the time school starts next fall, everyone will know you have a faggot for
a brother. Hell, they'll think you're a faggot, too."
"Charisse," Brad replied, "all my friends
already know that David's gay. Everyone in the high school knows he's gay. He's
the Junior Class President, and he ran unopposed. He and Jeremy are two of the
most popular boys in the whole school. They have a lot of gay and straight
friends over there who belong to the Gay-Straight Alliance. Hundreds of kids
belong, the majority of them being straight. I'm gonna join once I get over there. In fact . . . It's high time
we have a Gay-Straight Alliance in each of the middle schools, you know?
Someone needs to do something about it, and I'm gonna be that someone."
"I can't believe this," Charisse said.
I noticed tears starting to flow down
Jeremy's cheeks and remembering the cruel way he'd been outed in eighth grade,
I thought how having a GSA in middle school could have saved him from so much
torture. The thought that my very straight brother was willing to take a
potentially unpopular stand during his eighth grade year made my heart swell with pride.
"You'd be willing to do that, bro?" I asked
"That, and more. Hearing the attitudes of
people like Charisse just drives home how much GSA's are needed in our middle
schools. Trouble is, so far no one's been willing to stand up for gay kids in
middle school. You remember those kids Trevor and Kurt talked about, that they
met at the race, Memorial Day weekend?"
"Billy and Rick," I remembered.
"Yeah, right, Billy and Rick." Brad agreed.
"Those kids suffered terribly throughout middle school. Just think how much of
a difference it would have made if there'd been a middle school GSA for them.
I'm going to go into each of the three middle schools and I'm going to organize
a GSA. I know it'll be tough going at first, but if we can get enough straight
kids like me to step forward and say, `I'm willing to help my gay and lesbian
brothers and sisters be whom they're meant to be', then the gay kids will feel
comfortable stepping forward, too."
"Brad," Jeremy said, tears still streaming
down his face, "I always thought of you as a nuisance, but I want you to know
that I love you, man."
"I love you, too, Jer," Brad replied.
"Since I first met you, I could tell how much you mean to my brother."
"But it's more than that, Brad. You're one
hell of a great guy. David's lucky to have you for a brother, and I'm lucky to
have you for a brother-in-law."
Brad and Jeremy grasped each other warmly
in a tight hug that lasted at least a minute as Charisse looked on, hands on
her hips, in utter contempt before she finally just said, "Well, since you've
decided to completely ignore me, Brad, I'm leaving."
Turning to me, Brad said, "Just give me
about twenty minutes." Turning to her, he said, "I'll walk you home."
"Don't bother," she said, "It's only a few
blocks. I think I can manage it on my own." With that, she simply left.
Brad literally collapsed onto the sofa, a
look of utter frustration on his face. "How could I be so wrong about someone? Of all people, I thought that she would understand. African Americans
have suffered from racism almost more than any other group. How could she be
such a racist herself?"
"Brad," I asked, "I found you in bed with
her. You were naked and seriously making out with her, and I have a feeling if
Jer and I hadn't come home when we did, you would have gone all the way, am I
Brad turned bright tomato red and nodded
"Forgive me for being so nosey, but wasn't
it a bit premature to be having sex with her if you didn't know her all that
well?" I asked.
"I suppose you're right, but Cliff and I
wanted to get some experience with girls and Charisse and Linda were interested
in getting some experience, too," he answered.
My eyes opened wide as I realized that
there was another couple involved, particularly if it involved Cliff, who was
"Before we go any further with this, Brad,
is Cliff at home, having sex with Linda?" Jeremy asked.
Rather than say anything, Brad just nodded
his head in the affirmative. Man, if we'd gone back to Jeremy's place, we'd
have been confronted with a surprise there as well. There was no way we were
going to have privacy that afternoon, no matter what.
"Brad, you realize the consequences to
Cliff having sex are much graver in his case, because he's HIV-positive, don't
you?" I asked.
"Of course, but that's the beauty of it.
Linda's HIV-positive, too. That's what started the whole thing. Cliff doesn't
have to worry about her getting HIV if she's already HIV-positive. You should'a
seen how happy Cliff was when they met. They're both happy, 'cause not only can
they have sex with each other, but they really like each other, too."
"Well, I still think you guys are too
young, but then Jeremy and I were only fourteen when we became sexually active,
so I'm not one to talk. The main thing I think is that Jeremy and I have never
really fooled around. Except perhaps for that first day when we met, we have
always made love. Love makes all the difference.
"Even still, we always use condoms. That's
because we aren't taking any chances on spreading diseases between us. It's not
that we don't trust each other, 'cause we do completely, but it only takes one
mistake to alter both our lives forever. It's also a hygiene thing, and we'll
probably always use condoms for that reason.
"Now with girls, there's always the added
risk of pregnancy and until you're ready to have kids, you always, always need
to use condoms. I assume that Cliff is using a condom, isn't he?"
"I would hope so," Brad answered.
Grabbing his cell phone, Jeremy dialed
Cliff's number. "Hey there, Cliffy."
"Well, David and I came over to his house
to have a little privacy, only to find we weren't alone once we were undressed
and in his bedroom," he answered.
Although I could only hear one side of the
conversation, I could catch how embarrassed Cliff might be feeling.
"Oh shit is right," Jeremy said. "So how
are things with you and Linda?" he asked.
"We didn't exactly give him much choice but to tell us,
Cliff, so don't blame Brad. Besides, Charisse turned out to be a homophobic
racist, and left as soon as she realized Brad's brother's a faggot."
"Ouch is right. So listen, although I'm not
sure I agree with the way you and Brad are going about things, I'm leaving it
up to you guys to discuss your girlfriends and sex with the rents, and you will discuss it with our parents." He
said glaring at Brad, then added, "Am I clear on that?"
"Do we have to?" Brad asked, looking first
up at Jeremy and then to me.
"Yes, you have to," Jeremy replied into the
phone, "but keep in mind that both ours and Brad's parents have accepted
David's and my relationship, including the sexual part, since we were fourteen.
I don't think you have anything to worry about as long as you're open and
honest from the beginning."
After a pause, Jeremy continued. "The other
thing I want to ask you about is the precautions you're taking. You are being safe, aren't you?"
There was prolonged silence on the line.
Again, prolonged silence.
"Cliff, please don't tell me you aren't
"Cliff, that is such a naïve attitude. You know there are multiple strains of HIV.
Just because you're both HIV-positive doesn't mean you can't transmit a
different strain of the virus to one another. If you pick up a second strain,
your condition could become doubly difficult to treat. Either or both of you could wind up with a super-strain of
the disease that's resistant to all of the current medications. You know this, which is why using protection
is still important. Plus of course
you still have to worry about the possibility of getting her pregnant."
"Cliff," Jeremy said, "It doesn't matter if she just finished
her period an hour ago, man, the cycle of ovulation is highly variable and can
start right after the end of her period. Once again, you're playing Russian
roulette. Whatever is done is done, but if you intend to continue a sexual
relationship with Linda, you absolutely must discuss it with Mom and Dad, and
you must use a condom every single time you have sex with her.
"We love you, bro, and we want you around
with us for a very long time. Will you promise me you'll do that?"
"Good! That's all I can ask bro," he said
before closing his cell phone.
"God, I don't know what we're gonna do with
the two of you," I said with a huge grin as I turned back to my own brother,
"but we love you anyway."
Just then, we heard the sound of the garage
door opening and the distinct sound of Mom's car driving in.
"Holy crap!" Brad exclaimed. "If you guys
hadn't come home. It would have been Mom that'd have caught me and Charisse in
bed together. What a fuckin' mess that would have been!"
"You got that right, Brad," I agreed, "but
you're still gonna have to tell her."
Looking down at the floor for a moment,
Brad looked up at me and said, "Yeah, I know. I almost made a big mistake, bro,
but you stopped me from makin' it. I'll talk to Mom and Dad . . . like you did. I never realized how much guts
that musta took . . . to tell them you were gay! Man, I have a new appreciation of what you must've gone through. I just hope
Cliff isn't making a big mistake, too."
"I'll make sure Cliff has someone to talk
to," Jer piped in, "whether it's my parents, or Carlotta, our housekeeper, his
shrink, or maybe even your parents, but I'll make sure he gets the help he
Cliff might not have been born Jeremy's
brother, but he loved him no less. That was one thing I really loved about my
boyfriend. His compassion knew no bounds.
As I noticed, it had been a while since Mom
had parked the car in the garage and she still hadn't entered the house, I jumped up and rushed to open the door to the
garage. Sure enough, she was attempting to balance a series of file boxes, one
on top of the other, before bringing them into the house.
"Mom, let me help you with that!" I
practically scolded her. "It's going to take you three times longer to bring
all those inside than if you'd made three separate trips," I pointed out as I
lifted the first couple of boxes off her stack and carried them inside and into
Once the four of us had everything inside,
she asked, "What are you boys all doing home on a beautiful spring day during
your summer vacation anyway?"
Dodging the question for the moment, I
asked, "But why are you bringing so much work home with you when school's out?"
"I'm getting ready for the summer term,"
she answered. "You know a teacher's work is never done, and you still haven't
answered my question."
"Well, Jer and I were out having some fun
with his new car," I started to answer.
"Oh, so that's his Boxter in the driveway!" she exclaimed. "I guess I should have
"So anyway, we decided to come home to have
ourselves a little . . . a, privacy."
"You came home to have sex," she said with
a slight grin, boiling it down to the basics.
"Mom, you know I can't talk about it with
you . . . well, not like that, but Jeremy and I are a dedicated, committed
couple. You know we love each other,
and in a couple of years, we'll get married. Yes, we make love, and I'm not
about to apologize for it."
"I know, sweetheart," my mother said as she
stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss my cheek, "and I didn't mean to imply that
I disapprove in any way."
Motioning to my boyfriend, she said, "Come
When he was in front of her, she grabbed
him into a half-hug, craned her neck, and kissed his cheek, saying, "You know,
I already think of you as my son-in-law, and I love you to pieces, too."
"I'd never think of making you boys wait
for what is a natural expression of your love for each other," she added as she
grabbed me into the hug and pulled the two of us together into a three-way hug.
What a great mom!
"Mom," Brad said, clearing his throat,
"there's something else you need to know. It's . . . a . . . about me . . . and
sex, and something I'm not exactly proud of." Tears started to form in Brad's
eyes as he said, "I made a serious mistake today. Could we sit down and talk
Brad did talk about it with Mom. He talked
about everything that happened, including things he hadn't yet told Jeremy and
me. He explained how Cliff had met his girlfriend, and came up with the idea of
Brad finding a girlfriend, too, and how they could talk the girls into having
sex with them. The problem was that while Cliff genuinely seemed to like Linda,
Brad was just interested in Charisse for sex . . . he was using her. The real
eye-opener was when she called me and Jeremy `fags'. That sure changed his
feelings for Charisse in a hurry, and now he wanted to make it up to us.
Brad told Mom about his idea to start a GSA
at each of the three middle schools in the school district. Mom, being the
astute mother and teacher she was, wanted to make sure Brad wasn't planning to
do this out of a sense of guilt. Although he did feel guilty, Brad was energized. He really wanted to do this,
and I loved him for it. Mom assured him she would do everything she could to
help him with his project, including navigating the treacherous waters of
school politics, and I assured him that he would certainly have the full
support of the high school GSA, too.
Mom also told Brad that she sincerely hoped
he would wait to have sex, and reminded him of the message from Kurt DeWitt and
Sammy in the video he and I had watched on sexual abuse a few months back.
"There's no rush to have sex, you know."
Mom said. " It's not a race, and you have plenty of time. Most kids your age
are still virgins, at least when it comes to experience with the opposite sex,
and will remain so for another couple of years or more. Believe it or not, some
kids won't have their first sexual experience until they leave for college and
there's nothing wrong with that.
"The experimentation you've probably done
with Cliff notwithstanding," she continued, causing Brad to turn beet red, "you
can afford to wait, but if and when you find that special girl, remember that
sex is a wonderful thing that brings on some very powerful emotions that can
overwhelm you. Never, ever fear to talk to me or to Dad about sex and love.
Remember, we were once your age, too, and we've gone through everything you're
going through. We'll help you get through it, and help you make the right
decisions. And just as we condone your brother's sexual activities, you might
be surprised at how we respond to yours when the right person comes along."
Brad gave our mom a hug and as he did, I
marveled at how tall he'd gotten in just the last few months. He was going to
need a whole new wardrobe before the fall for sure. He must be five foot, nine
inches by now. I could'a sworn he was five-three last time we checked. At this
rate, he'd surpass my height eventually.
"Cliff's gonna need some help, too," I
mentioned to Mom.
"Yeah, especially with what Brad said about
him, he could really get into
trouble. Last thing we need is a couple of love birds with an HIV
super-infection and a baby on the way."
Turning to me, she said, "If you and Jeremy
would like to pick up some salmon filets at Marsh's, I'll fire up the grill
out back and we could invite Cliff and Linda to bike on over here and maybe we
can ease into a frank discussion without them even knowing it.
"Sounds like a plan," I said, "Just try not
to get a speeding ticket on the way to the store."
Mom raised an eyebrow and Jeremy punched me
lightly in the shoulder as we headed out the door.
The authors gratefully acknowledge the invaluable assistance of Trab and Alastair in proofreading our stories, as well as Gay Authors, Awesome Dude and Codey's World for hosting them.