The contents of this story is purely fictional although based on real life happenings in my life. All names have been fictionalize to protect the innocent and not so innocent. The content matter of this story concerns love and sex between males teenagers. If this is not what you like reading or it is illegal for you to read this material because of age or laws go somewhere else. This story is copyrighted by it's owner and may not be copied or published elsewhere without the owners permission.
Okay I did get several emails from readers hoping to here more about Bastian McCormick's life.(see Foto in the High School Section of Nifty. If you haven't read Foto then you should read it first).
I really didn't intend to write this so soon but the idea blossomed and I wrote three chapters - not sure how many chapters I will continue to add depends on interest and email demanding MORE! lol.
sam_lakes at yahoo.com
by Sam Lakes
Copyright © 2008 All Rights Reserved
Chapter 1 - Sandy
“Well, young man you have a clean bill of health,” said Dr. Goodson.
I knew I was healthy. I always am but a doctor’s exam was required by the new school I was attending for anyone interested in athletic activities which of course I was. I’ve always loved sports even the ones I can’t or don’t play like football and basketball – too short for basketball and I don’t fancy the idea of some 300lb 6foot plus guy throwing his entire weight against my 150lb body. If a sport involves being tall or weighty or is prone to injuries then I don’t play it.
Body-wise I’ve got a nice six pack, nice abs, and nice gluts – let’s face it a nice bod even if I do say so. The only thing is I am short - five-eight. You might say for a seventeen year old five-eight is not too bad and there is plenty of time for growth spurts. I think my growth has done it’s spurting as I haven’t grown even a quarter of an inch in a year and a half. And thanks to that I am the shortest person in my family. Dad’s six-four, Robert, my fifteen year old brother is six foot and mom is five-nine!
In case you think I’m some sort of brainless sports freak well I’m not. I manage to keep a 4.0 GPA. I’m no geek – that’s my dad’s department. Really, he’s a computer geek and makes big bucks being one. He doesn’t look like a geek though. He looks like a retired football player – ya know sort of big and over weight. I’ve tried to get him to go biking with me but he’s always working. Mom’s kinda over weight too but she says she’ll start biking with me when we get settled in. My brother is simply a slightly smaller version of our dad. They hang out a lot in the computer room. Robert is a computer geek too and does okay in school but he’s not into sports.
We live in Chicago now – hopefully I can get through this year without us moving again. It sucks to have to move mid-year. You’re either behind or ahead of everyone in the new school. Luckily, I’m only late in starting school by two weeks. I hope I can get on the water polo and diving teams. Mom says I’m a fish. It’s her fault she started me swimming as an infant. I love the water. I won’t be on the swimming team because I’m not fast enough and I prefer diving.
I ride my bike as often as I can and as much as I can and today was no exception. I arrived home from the doctor’s office, a mere twenty mile jaunt, all hot and sweaty and had long since removed my t-shirt.
“Mom - Dad! I’m home and healthy. What’s for dinner? I’m starved,” I bellowed as I walked into the house. Damn it smelt good whatever it was.
Mom peered out from the kitchen door, “We have guests for dinner so please wash up and then join us on the patio.”
I nodded and dash upstairs and showered.
“What to wear? What to wear?” I mumbled to myself as I walked into the closet. I’m sort of picky when it comes to getting dressed – I like to look good and things have to match. Maybe I’m gay…I mean I’m so anal when it comes to dressing. Nah, I’m just fashion conscious. Finally after twenty minutes and only three interruptions from my brother with messages to hurry up or the food would be gone, I was ready to make my entrance.
“Hi, sorry I’m late” I said as I exited the house to the patio.
Gathered around the picnic table were two handsome men, a hot guy about my age and a toddler who was adorably cute sitting in the hot guy’s lap plus my family.
“Sandy,” said my father, “This is Brian and Michael McCormick. Brian is my boss.”
“Please to meet you, sir,” I replied.
“Your name is really Sandy?” asked the man introduced to me as Michael McCormick.
“Yes sir, thanks to my parent’s sick sense of humor, I got the name Sandy Beech. My brother lucked out with Robert.” I said with a smile.
“Yeah, parents suck when it comes to naming their kids,” laughed the hottie,
“Really? The Never Ending Story was my favorite video. So, what do you like to be called?”
“Bastian will do,” he smiled.
Whoa maybe I am gay for a smile like that I’d be anything.
“And who is the adorable boy sitting in your lap?” I asked.
“This is my son, Noah. Noah, that man is Sandy Beech. Can you say hello?”
“Helwoah, Sandy Beech,” said the little guy.
“Hello, Noah,” I said as I walked over to the two. The next thing he did which surprised me was he reach both arms out to me like he want me to take him. So, I did. Something about him was so familiar.
“Go beach,” said Noah.
“Go beach?” I asked.
He nodded furiously, “Beach, beach, beach.”
I laughed. “Uh, well there isn’t a beach around here that I know of…” His lower lip pushed out and he looked like he’d cry any second. I wasn’t sure what to do so I did the first thing that came to mind. “Well, there’s no beach here but would you like to play in a bubble bath? I love bubble baths!”
“Yeah, they are lots of fun. I’ll show you if it’s okay with your daddy. So, what do you say, Bastian? Is it okay if we play in the bubble bath?”
“Yeah, I’ll join you if you don’t mind.”
“Let’s go! We’re off to take a bubble bath, a bubble bath, a bubble bath,” I sang as little Noah, Bastian and I went into the house. Noah was singing and laughing too. As it happens my parents bathroom has a large Jacuzzi bathtub and in no time it was full of bubbles and a happy little boy.
After a few minutes Noah decided both Bastian and I should get in the bath too. I rush off to my room grabbed two swimming suits as I felt it would be improper to be naked and then I returned.
We joined Noah in the bath for about forty-five minutes. Mom brought me a sandwich to tide me over.
During that time Bastian and I talked – nothing too serious or too deep. I did find out that Noah’s mom died and Bastian had been the one she wanted to be Noah’s father. I think she made a good choice.
Noah was getting pretty sleepy after the bath so I offered my bed for him to sleep in until they left. Bastian lay down with him and I was about to leave for the kitchen because I was still starving when Noah said for me to ‘wye down’. Despite my extreme hunger I couldn’t resist complying with his request. He was so sweet – he gave me a kiss goodnight on my cheek and I returned it. Soon, he was fast asleep and I quietly left the room with Bastian and headed for the kitchen.
“I sure hope you have a big plate of food for me,” I said as I entered the kitchen.
Mom smiled and started the microwave.
There were a few moments of silence before mom said, “Sandy, I was wondering…” She was interrupted by Michael McCormick clearing his throat. “Oh, never mind, dear I’ll ask you later.”
I shrugged my shoulders and sat down at the kitchen table. Bastian looked like he gave his dad a scowl and that made me think there was something going on.
As I said I have a 4.0 GPA so I’m no dummy. Bastian told me his dads were gay to which my reply is summed up in one word - ‘duh’. It was no big deal to me. Why should it be? Bastian’s gay too and still it’s no big deal. People make too much out of it. I mean from what I’ve read it’s much the same as having brown hair or blond hair – it’s not really a choice, is it?
Mom put the plate of food down in front of me. “Thanks,” I muttered. I mutter when I’m thinking. I also don’t eat when I’m in deep thought – I sort of push the food around on my plate which I was doing. This was the first time that I can remember Dad inviting his employer and their family over to dinner. They think I’m gay! All this was just to find out if I’m gay! Well, it didn’t work! It fucking didn’t work! Why? Because I have no idea myself and so what if I am? Why couldn’t they just ask me I would have told them but no they had to drag others into this. It is bad enough being the only one into sports much less the only one that has a 4.0 GPA with hardly any effort on my part and the only one who’s short. I’m the only one with a stupid name.
I’m usually a pretty cool guy but what the fuck, man! Why did they have to drag all these other people into my life! I tried to steel my emotions but it was a losing battle. I pushed myself away from the table.
“I’m going for a ride on my bike,” I said in a very controlled voice.
“Sandy you haven’t eaten,” said Mom. She knew I was pissed.
“I need to go for a ride on my bike, the food will keep. I’ll be back later.”
“Sandy sit down and eat,” she ordered.
“What, so you can humiliate me even more?” I said angrily.
“Honey, I,” she stared to say.
“MOM! I AM NOT STUPID!” I yelled.
“Sandy, calm down, your mom and dad care about you and they’re worried -,” said Michael McCormick.
I almost told him to take his fucking family and get out of my life, but I didn’t, but I did give him the finger as I left the room heading for the garage, mounted my bike, opened the garage door and was off
I rode for at least an hour until I had cooled down tempter-wise and discovered I was not only weak from hunger but completely lost. I spotted a quick stop shop and headed for it. As I pulled in so did a police car. The cop got out and approached me.
“Hi,” I said.
“Hi, I bet you’re Sandy Beech,” He stated.
“Yeah, look could you watch my bike – it’s a really expensive bike. I need to get some Gartorade or something before I pass out. I’m serious,” I said. I think I was weaker than I thought and really dehydrated.
I nodded and slowly made my way into the store, found the Gatorade, gulped down a large bottle right away and took another bottle and a large bag of potato chips.
As I reached the checkout I realized I didn’t have my wallet. “I forgot my wallet.” I noticed a SUV pull up and Brian McCormick got out, talked to the cop, and then take my bike. “Oh, sorry, my friend’s dad is here. I can borrow some money from him. I’m putting the chip back cuz I’ll regret eating them tomorrow.”
As Brian McCormick approached at the counter I asked, “Could you pay for the Gatorade? I’ll pay you back when I get home.”
“My treat,” he said.
“No. I’ll pay you back when I get home.”
I guzzled down the second bottle of Gatorade before I got into the car.
“Do you mind telling me what happened?” he asked.
This is such a fucked up mess.
“Yeah, I do mind cuz I’m tired and weak from not eating. I don’t like talking on an empty stomach. Feed me and I’ll tell you anything you want to hear. I’ll even sing you a song if you want,” I said somewhat sarcastically.
Brian took me to some hamburger place that sold really good half pound burgers and onion rings.
“So what happened?” he said as I finished the last onion ring.
“I got pissed.”
“They could have just asked me if I was gay. Why did they have to bring you and your family into my life to handle their problem? They could have asked.”
“I was told by your parents that for the last few years you been all but a stranger only home to sleep and eat. They were worried.”
“And I told them why! But they didn’t believe me. Do you have any idea what it takes for a fifteen year old boy to save up $4000. For the last two years I’ve kept up my 4.0 GPA, my sports and mowed over 200 yards, cleaned out I don’t know how many garages to save up $4000.00.”
“Did you notice how light my bike is?”
“Yeah, it’s very light.”
“Dad nearly flipped when I told him to put my bike on his insurance policy – to my parents it’s just a bike – to me it’s a Litespeed, one of the world’s best racing bikes.”
“You see Mr. McCormick, I’m the odd one out in my family. I’m short. I’m blonde. Keeping a 4.0 GPA is easy for me. I love sports especially biking. My parents probably say I don’t communicate to them. Well, it works both ways and unfortunately we live in different worlds. Some of my friends’ parents know exactly how many awards and trophies their kid has. Mine haven’t a clue how many awards and trophies I have and now days I never even tell them when I win a new trophy or get a new plaque for MVP or whatever because they don’t care.”
I decided right then that I like Mr. Brian McCormick because he was really listening to me and not trying to take sides. Bastian looks like him a lot. I liked Bastian and I really liked little Noah. I hope I have a kid like him someday. Bastian told me he was gay. I wondered if our conversation was all a part of this plan to find out if I were gay.
I realized I was pushing a pickle slice around my plate with my finger. I looked up at Mr. McCormick. He smiled.
‘Busted!’ I thought.
“I suppose you want to know if I’m gay.”
“Only if you want to tell me.”
“Bastian told me Michael and you are a couple. He told me that he was gay too. I guess to make sure I wasn’t some kind of homophobe. I told him people make such a big deal out of it. I’ve had friends who were gay – some of them even had crushes on me but it didn’t bother me. And even though I didn’t crush back I still stood by them as a friend and respected them. I felt the same way with the girls that had crushes on me.”
“I really like your son but now I’m wondering if he was just part of this plan to see if I’m gay. It’s – it’s – when Michael said ‘your mom and dad care about you and they’re worried’.” I could feel tears welling up in my eyes. I was not going to create a scene in front of everyone in this café. “I’ll be outside,” I said and bolted for the door.
I leaned up against their car and tried to take deep breaths to keep from crying but as soon as Mr. McCormick wrapped his arms around me I broke down and cried.
“They don’t care that I’ve been a straight A student since 1st grade, that I’m an outstanding athlete, but they care if I’m gay – they are worried I might be gay! Well, you know what? I’ll tell you what I told Bastian in case he hasn’t already told you. I DON’T KNOW IF I’M GAY OR NOT. And you know what else I really don’t care. I don’t understand why people put so much importance on it.”
“If I am gay is that going to make me throw a fast ball slower or faster? Is it going to make it harder to get straight As?”
“Sandy, I can see your viewpoint. Neither Bastian nor I was a part of any plot to find out if you’re gay and I don’t really think Michael was either. Your mom was concerned about you and she talked to Michael because she thought you might be on drugs. He told her to simply ask you outright. She’s your mother and she has a right to worry.”
“For someone who’s supposed to be smart I guess what I did was sort of stupid,” I mumbled to myself and then looked up. He was smiling at me. “You weren’t supposed to hear that,” I said slightly embarrassed.
He laughed, “Yeah, but I beg to differ, for someone to realize that they did something stupid and then admit it was stupid is actually pretty smart. I’ve done it a lot with Michael and Bastian over the years.”
“Mr. McCormick, how do you know if you’re gay?” I asked.
“First of all, just call me Brian. I was never really interested in girls and I knew I was attracted to boys namely Michael. We really loved each other but I thought at the time it might be a phase or something so I had sex with a girl. I knew afterwards that it had been a mistake and that it wasn’t the same as sex with Michael because I love Michael. I came out to my parents about being in love with Michael. Mom said it was obvious and Dad was cool but disappointed he wouldn’t have a grandson. I managed to keep the affair with the girl a secret for about two months then all hell broke loose. The girl was pregnant and I almost lost Michael as a result, but as things turned out I didn’t and we had a son.”
“Bastian, he’s pretty cool and I think Marcy made the right choice for Noah. I asked Bastian the same question and he said he always knew. Me, I don’t have a Michael. We always move around because Dad is a contract programmer. Early on I learnt the fastest way to make friends was to be good at sports but we’d always move.” A memory I had suppressed a few years ago and tried to forget at times popped to mind.
I looked up at Brian and then out the window of the car. “I’ve never told anyone this,” I said softly looking out the window, “I had a friend once who could have been a Michael for me…” I thought I’d gotten over Tommy but the tears began to flow and for a while I couldn’t speak. I felt Brian’s hand on my shoulder.
After a few minutes I manage to get my crying under control. “Sorry, I-I thought I was over it. I guess I’ll never be over it. We were living in Colorado Springs at the time. I was trying out for pitcher on this team. The catcher was this smart ass kid called Tommy at least at the time I thought he was a smart ass. I was warming up and my fast ball was clock at 25 miles per hour. Then he started calling me ‘shorty’. It really pissed me off because already my little brother was my height. I have a thing about being short,” I sort of half smiled.
“Go on,” said Brian.
“The next ball I threw was clocked at 75 mile per hour and he wasn’t ready for it and it knocked him on his ass. Anyway, our team was doing pretty good but our main pitcher got sick so I got to pitch. I was doing shitty. I had the bases loaded and it was 3 balls and no strikes and I was about to walk in a run. Tommy came out to the mound and said ‘Hey, shorty, you’re pitching like a girl. Get with it shorty this is baseball.’ I stuck out every batter after that and he kept calling me shorty. After the game he came up to me I was still a little pissed with him and then he said ‘Beech, you’re awesome! I knew you could do it!’”
A few tears trickled down my cheeks, “After that we became best friends. The bike – the bike was his idea. He turned me on to biking and we decided we’d both buy a Litespeed and bike from Grand Junction to Moab. He said we had to pay for the bikes ourselves so then we’d really appreciate them. My parents could have afforded to buy it for me but he said we should do it ourselves. It was a challenge and I agreed to it. I would have agreed to anything for Tommy. So am I gay?” I shrugged my shoulders, “If loving Tommy makes me gay then yeah. If naming my bike after him makes me gay then yeah. But that’s all gone now he died and so did I. So, am I gay? No, that part of me died when he died.”
I let out a long sigh, “Can you take me home now?”
Brian started the car and drove me home. When we go to my home I said, “Can you get my bike out I need to make sure Mitchell is safe and secure for the night? And please don’t tell anybody I call my bike Mitchell.”
“I thought you said your friend’s name was Tommy,” said Brian.
“Yeah, Tommy Mitchell, I call my bike Mitchell’s Best or Mitchell for short,” I replied as I put the bike in the garage.
“Your friend was Tommy Mitchell?”
“Yeah, did you know him?” I asked.
“He was one of the victims in a case I worked on,” replied Brian.
“Then you know how he died.”
Brian nodded sadly.
“IT WASN’T FAIR! HE TOLD ME THE DAY BEFORE HE DISAAPEARED THAT HE LOVED ME! I LOVE HIM AND WHEN HE DIED I DIED! NOTHING MEANS ANYTHING TO ME ANY MORE. I KEEP GOING AND TRYING HARDER – THE BIKE – EVERYTHING I DO I DO BECAUSE I KEEP HOPING HE’LL COME BACK ! HE PROMISED HE’D FIND ME!”I bolted for my room.
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