Date: Wed, 14 Jan 2004 22:45:55 -0600 From: Karla Schulz Subject: The Preppie and the Punk Chapter Three I love you all... and yet, I'm a slack bastard, and I've hardly responded to the awesome e-mails many of you sent. Please accept this chapter as a desperate grab at forgiveness, and please don't let my bastardry prevent you from writing to me in the future, recieving mail from readers makes me feel like I'm flying through rainbows on winged horses. --- The Preppie About 5 minutes before we'd reach the school, Simon off-handedly mentions that I might want to park somewhere away from the school, in a secluded area if possible. "Why?" I ask, looking at him strangely. "Oh," he says, looking a bit uncomfortable. "Well, it's just that you don't want your car to get tagged or whatever." Hearing him say this, knowing full well it's completely possible, makes me go cold with fear and causes my hands to shake so badly I have to pull over, even though I know I should have been prepared for this. It's all part of what I signed on to do. And there's no use regretting it now, anyway, what right would I have to say I'm sorry to have found a love and the chance to be open about it? I look at Simon, hoping to be able as usual to draw strength from him. He sees the look in my eyes. "You okay? I'm sorry I said that," he says, as he quickly unbuckles himself, slides over, and takes me in his arms. "I'm alright," I say, recovering myself. "Really. It just seemed like a lot again all of a sudden. But you are here, so it's okay." We kiss quickly, and get out of the car. "Should we hold hands?" he asks, looking down at mine. I smile. "I'd like that, and there's no point trying to hide anything now. It's been decided for us." He enlaces our fingers, giving mine a comforting squeeze. "You're alright, really?" I nod. "Yes, really. Please don't worry." He laughs. "It's me worrying now. Wonderful." Our school has an about 6 foot high fence surrounding it, and as we approach that fence I notice an above average number of people milling about it in the courtyard and on the steps of the school. We squeeze hands for support, to give and to receive, and look into each other's eyes for a few moments, offering up our love to the other. The insults start right away. "Poofs", "queer", "faggots", and "homos" get shot at us from all sides. I wonder what on earth we're supposed to do about this, like do we just ignore it or what? - but looking at Simon I see he's getting a gleam in his eye. "That's right!" he shouts defiantly, looking directly into the eyes of a few of our most vocal attackers. He leans over and kisses my cheek. "We're queer! And we couldn't care less, in fact we luv it! So make something of it, fucker." He says this and at the same time jabs one of the members of the rugby team in the shoulder. I'm shaking, or inside I am, outside I'm just BARELY holding it together, if Simon wasn't here - though at the moment he's sorta making it worse - I'd be on the ground in a ball by now. The guy he's poked isn't doing much, I notice, just regarding us with a look that's trying to be of scorn. "Get lost, punker," he says with distaste. He looks to me, with a little less disgust, as if I'm being given a final opportunity to redeem myself. "You really with this piece of garbage?" Now I might be a loss when it comes to defending myself, but I LOVE Simon. "Fuckin' right I am. And you can just shuttup about it, Laval. He's a million times better than you as far as I'M concerned so you can lose that garbage talk if you don't mind, not that I care if you do." Just then, oh thank God, the others show up, and I guess the five of us, even though Stacy is a girl (no offense to you other ladies out there) is enough to get the crowd to back off, for now. In my rage over the attack against Simon I'm able to get inside perfectly all right, but just as soon as it's just us in an empty classroom, I sink into a desk, face like a sheet, finding that I can't quite remember how to breathe properly. Simon kneels down beside me, and tilts up my chin so we're eye to eye. "I'm sorry about that, baby," he says softly so only I can hear. "I just thought, you know, make a show of force right away, let them know we're not ashamed, and maybe get a bit of ground, I think it might even have worked in a way." "You scared me," I tell him, surprising myself with my own honesty. He nods. "I know, I know I did, and I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?" I manage to smile. "Of course. It wasn't you anyway. And it WAS a good idea." "Pretty damn risky though," Kevin is unable to help adding. "Oh, give it a rest, Kevin!" Stacy says, surprising us all. He scrunches up his shoulders, looking satisfactorily chastened. "Sorry, guys," he says with an apologetic grin. "S'okay, man," I tell him. "Yeah, no worries," Simon adds. "Yes, you're all sorry and it's all great and no, I can't believe it's ME being the voice of reality-based doom, but what is the game plan? I mean, this honestly -great first move, Si, really, like CHECK-MATE, but what now?" "Oh, Ro," I say, pretending to be horrified. "I expected so much less maturity from you. You've really disappointed me." We all laugh a little. "But seriously, guys," Kevin says, recovering. "What IS the plan?" We all look to Simon, mostly, I guess, because we consider him the only one who has any experience in this area. I mean, it's true what I said that there aren't very many of us preppies here, not our super rich variety anyway, but we get respect and admiration from the jocks and the higher-middle classers, so no one really messes with us. The Punks, even though there are more of them, are still kind of the school's whipping boy group, which is why so many of them are pissed off, or if they were before, it's what helps them STAY pissed off. But he shrugs. "To be honest, I was only thinking as far as getting us into school, kind of a one-step-at-a-time deal. Now I'm as stumped as the rest of you." Stacy smiles into our gloom. "Alright, boys, group hug." We stare at her blankly. "Er, 'group hug', Stace?" Kevin asks, perplexed. She nods confidently. "Yes, it will draw us closer together and help us draw strength from each other." Rowan grins, and throws his arms around her. "I like this idea," he says wickedly. Kevin punches him in the shoulder, and mutters Rowan had better keep his hands off his girlfriend. It only makes Rowan worse, he grins even more evilly. "That's right, protect your woman, Kev, you don't know where I've been." Kevin shakes his head. "Oh yes I do, and that's what's worrying me." "The group hug idea was great, Stace, but it's dead now, so you two break it up, and let's all try to think a bit, okay?" I say, pulling Rowan off Stacy and trying to look like authority. Simon hangs an arm off my shoulders and gives me a squeeze. "Don't worry, my dear," he says with cheek. "I'm formulating wickedly awful plans already. We just have to keep shocking them so that they're so bewildered they can never organize themselves, keep making the first moves, you know? And most importantly, never give them an opportunity to strike, now not to upset you further but I do mean in the physical sense here. Like, we're going to get our share of verbal crap, as we have already seen, but we've gotta work to avoid the heavier shit." He's gone beyond me again, 'formulating plans' indeed, but at the same time I at least feel safe, I trust Simon completely and though it might take me by surprise at first and even scare me a bit, I know he wouldn't do anything, or get us into any situation where he honestly thought we'd get hurt. I remind myself that this is pretty much everything I've always wanted all wrapped up into a nice package though it doesn't make me feel entirely better. Now that we're rebelling against the system again, Rowan's interests have been re-perked and he and Simon draw closer together, plotting, and I find myself standing off to the side with Kevin and Stacy. I suppose I must look a bit pale and sickly because Stacy goes into mother-mode and puts her hands on my face, asking me "Are you alright, dear?" and chewing her bottom lip while looking to Kevin for a second opinion. It's clear she thinks I'm still worried about how we're going to handle things with the losers at school, and maybe that as the minutes tick away and that becomes closer I'm worsening once again, but the real reason for my silent panic is that for the first time in a long time, so long that I'm not used to it anymore, Simon isn't directly beside me and there's no physical contact at all and what's more, he's off with someone else and doesn't even seem to be aware of me. So while I'm quietly going insane missing him from a few mere meters away, he's whispering conspiratorially with Rowan, and I'm sure he's forgotten about me. It's ridiculous, and I could call to him in a second and I know he'd come, but I stupidly feel as though I shouldn't need to call, and that's the whole trouble. "Darling?" Stacy tries again, now Kevin's got a hand on my shoulder, and he's peering at me with the same look of concern, Ro and Simon still don't appear to have noticed. I'd stood up at some point since my initial collapse but I sink into the desk again, weak at the knees once more. Simon looks up at last, and rushes over immediately. I feel instantly stupid and babyish, knowing I probably half did it just to get him over to me once more, but am unable to help feeling delighted that he's returned in spite of it all. "Are you alright, my love?" he asks quietly. I wish the others would leave so they'd stop intruding on what I'm hoping will become a private moment, but this feeling only lasts a second before I'm so appalled with myself I can't even speak and I can only shake my head, frantically trying to purge myself of such evil thoughts. "El?" he intones. I am able to smile. "Yes, I'm okay. Oh, I'm such an idiot." "What?" he asks, almost laughing from surprise. "It's so embarrassing!" I exclaim, running a hand through my hair as I do. He chuckles a bit. "I don't know what on earth you are talking about, my sweet boy, but you are NOT an idiot because that would make me even worse for loving you and I'll have you know that Kellys have a proud tradition of falling exclusively for NON-idiots." "Oh, I love you!" I say, pulling him to me with what to him is probably a surprising amount of force. "Should we get you two a room?" Rowan's forever teasing voice interrupts our embrace that had quickly become something of a full-on snogging match. But this time I forget to stupidly resent him and instead do the proper thing, which is to love him for being who he is and furthermore for continuing to love me and stand by me, even though just by continuing to be my friend he's putting himself in danger and obviously forgetting about giving any thought to his own social standing. "No," I say, shaking my head and holding out a hand for him to help me up. "That won't be necessary, Ro, but thanks for the thought." He chuckles. "I wasn't thinking of you, it's just that I've noticed Stacy stares at you a bit too much and I was doing my part to prevent her from developing a fetish." "You TWAT!" Stacy shrieks and then proceeds to chase him around the room, yelling bloody murder while the rest of us laugh, Rowan of course laughing the hardest. The Punk That day in morning classes, thankfully, it's all of us together. Despite the extreme dependence he seems to have developed on me the past couple of days I know Elliot is really grateful to have the others with us as well. And as far as the dependence goes, not only is it fine by me, I match it for him 100%, I just deal with it differently. While his need of me is obvious to pretty much anyone, my feelings are hidden much easier, and I need only look at him to relieve it. However I fear that my performance at masking my own feelings has been so convincing that I've fooled even Elliot himself, the one person who I of course don't wish to hide it from, so I rush to him immediately as the bell announcing mid-morning interval sounds and give him an intense look of desire and need which I hope will let him in on it a bit. I ignore all those around us, friendly or not, wanting him to understand that he is the absolute center of my existence and that I can be in a room with a hundred people and he'd be the only person I see. "Wow," he says in one enraptured exhale once I eventually break my gaze. I run my fingers along his cheek and smile softly. "Can I kiss you?" I ask carefully. He grins. "You have to ask?" I shrug. "Lots of people around." He secures my face in his hands and brings our lips together and we kiss passionately until we hear a cough behind us, it's a cough that sounds... well too mature to be an adolescent cough. "Masters Kelly and Brenner. Could you come with me, please?" I dunno about you, but I really hate it when people pose an obvious order like it's a question, as if you have some choice in the matter. I'm even more angry because I think just when I got Elliot to calm down a bit again, now something else has to go wrong but surprising me he actually grins, TAKES MY HAND, and looking directly into the eyes of our headmaster, replies, "Sure, lead the way, Sir." At first I wonder if he even realizes what is happening, something like that he's probably never been in trouble before and has no idea what the result of this little journey will be, but the way he occasionally squeezes my hand as we walk makes me believe Elliot must know exactly what's going on. We reach the office and after having the door opened for us, Elliot strides into the room confidently, plops himself down in one of the seats allotted for visitors and actually pats the seat directly next to it, smiling radiantly. Figuring it's my turn to follow HIS lead, I just sit down, and let him retrieve my hand. McDougal stares down at us from behind his desk which is supposed to look regal and imposing and rather does at that. "I suppose you know why I've asked you here," he begins soberly. "No, Sir, I don't suppose we do," Elliot parries cheerfully. The big man sighs. "Don't play daft, Brenner. The two of you are, what's the saying these days, 'an item'?" I'm embarrassed for both of us as any self-respecting youth would who was about to discuss their romantic life with a 50-something authority figure, but Elliot doesn't seem fazed in the least. "Too right, we are, Sir," he begins blithely. "And breaking no laws at that, nor are we going against rules in the school's code of conduct, so why, may I ask, did you cart us down here?" 'The BALLS on the one!' I shout to myself proudly. I'd be giving him a hearty pat on the back no matter who he was, showing up a hated authority like that, but because it's Elliot, MY Elliot, I'm doubly proud. "I..." The man is actually lost for words. He's so shocked he can't speak, I feel like dancing. Elliot grins at me, which predictably snaps McDougal out of it quite quickly. "Alright, look, you're right, it's not against any of the rules, but public displays of affection between ANYONE are prohibited in this school and we WILL have none of it." Elliot cocks his head to one side, and looks at McDougal with face parodying seriousness. He nods with all due gravity, and strokes his chin with only his thumb and index finger. "Gottchya, Sir," he says eventually. "Simon here WAS about to do something awfully nasty to me anyway so it's a good job you showed up when you did. Gotta keep our halls pure after all." More astounded silence. Another grin from Elliot. "Will that be all, Sir?" he inquires. McDougal hits the table with his fist and growls, "Yes, that's ALL! Don't make me call you in here again." An empty threat really, after his first performance, but what else was he going to say? We grin and race out of the office, holding hands. A ways down the corridor past the office, Ro, Kevin, and Stacy are waiting for us, looking concerned. We laugh triumphantly and I give Elliot a proud squeeze. "You shoulda seen it! He was brilliant! I wish I had a tape." I'm beaming. Totally and completely beaming. Rowan laughs. Predictably, Kevin looks a bit like he disapproves, but says nothing. Stacy shakes her head and smiles. "You two were bad though, I mean, even Kevin and I might have gotten busted for that." Elliot and I scoff in her face. "I'm sure they would have been exactly as likely, Stace. You lot, glowing examples of wonderful clean heterosexual morals, everything every parent wants their child to be." As of yet, I could still not get away with talking to them like that, but they allow certain liberties with Elliot, in fact I'm noticing everyone seems to. Not that I mind, much. My response to Stacy's comments is to kiss the side of Elliot's head. Someone hoots. It's Rob. I'm not sure what to do, whether the noise was the beginning to a fight or an overture of friendship. "Hey, Robbie," I say, beginning the only way I can think to. Under my arm I can feel Elliot tense. The others, Stacy included, are bracing themselves. Rob grins. "Hey, introduce me," he says, nodding to Elliot. I hope it all stays this friendly. I smile. "Yeah, this is Elliot, Elliot, this is a friend of mine, Rob Toves." I risked by calling him a friend, but so far he hasn't made any move that he minds. "Nice to meet you, Elliot," Rob says, shaking hands. Elliot nods. "You too, Rob." "So," Rob says, cracking his knuckles. "How long's this been going on?" His question however, was obviously one motivated purely by curiosity, not malice, so I was happy to answer. "Not long, but well, we're quite serious." He let out a low whistle. "You better be, you guys are married for the rest of high school as far as they're concerned," he says, thumbing to the air, indicating the rest of the kids at school. "You don't mind?" I can't help asking then. He shrugs. "Well, it might have bothered me if I thought the person you were with was a swot or whatever, but you, Elliot, I never really noticed you as someone to dislike." It's a weird backhanded compliment, but a compliment nonetheless, and I hope Elliot will take it. He does, smiling nervously and almost blushing. "Um, thanks, I guess." "Any time. But to get serious for a moment, Mony," I catch Elliot snickering at my, until now, unspoken nickname, and I shoot him a 'just try it' glare, letting him know how I feel about the name and probably sealing my own fate. "I've talked to some of the others, and to be honest, opinion is mixed at best. Some think you're a traitor but don't care that you're gay, for others that's the biggest issue, but there are a few, like myself for instance, who simply don't mind. Oh yeah, and a couple guys told me they think it's great 'cause of how much it's pissing the other preps off to see that Elliot's slumming, um, or at least that's how they see it." I digest this. It's about what I had expected and also hoped for, though I don't want to start a war, and know that might disappoint some of the last group mentioned by Rob. "Thanks for telling me, mate. But I think we're off, what do you have next?" "Maths, see ya!" He walks and I smile after him. "That was nice," Elliot says to me. I look down at him and nod. "Yeah, it was. C'mon though, let's get to class." We lead the way and the others follow. Finally when the day is over, despite the fact that there hasn't really been a discussion about it and that I am grounded, I assume we, or at least Elliot and I, will be heading over to his place as we did yesterday. We leave the school as a group and as quickly as possible make our way off school grounds. My mind and I are off somewhere and I guess I hadn't really been paying attention to my surroundings 'cause suddenly I feel Elliot poking me in the arm a little too persistently. "Er, Simon," he says in another attempt to gain and then maintain my attention. "I think that woman over there is staring at you." I jerk my head in the direction he's pointing. "Oh, shit!" I exclaim. They all stare. "What?!" Elliot asks urgently. "Who is she?" I sigh. "My mum." "Well, what's she doing here? I thought she worked afternoons," "Yeah, she does. I dunno why she's not there now." "What could she be doing here?" I look at him, noticing he's beginning to panic. I debate whether or not to give him that comforting squeeze I get the feeling he needs right now. The decision is made, and I hug him, since everyone at school knows and so does she at least in a way, so why not, considering how much we both wanted it. He sighs in my arms, and I release him to look back over at my mum, she's wringing her pair of worn gloves nervously, wondering, I suppose, what the hold up is and why I'm hugging a strange boy and all that. "Let's go meet her then," Kevin suggests, moving us into action. Once we have approached I attempt a smile. "Hi, Mum," I say, wondering what else there is for me to say. She looks me over and it's then that I realize she probably came mostly out of a fear that I would be hurt. I broaden my smile, as she satisfies herself that I've not been. "Hello son, is this Elliot then?" she says, looking at him, trying her best to be normal. You can't do that very well, I guess - act casual as you meet your son's first boyfriend, one he claims to love, no less. Elliot handles her beautifully. He shakes her hand, but doesn't try anything soppy like kissing it, and just introduces himself, basically acting quite calm and balanced about the whole thing. "How was your day?" she asks both of us at the same time as we all continue walking away from the school. "It wasn't too bad," I say and Elliot nods. "Yeah." The others have gone, they all smiled and nodded to us, managing to drift away without Mum even ever noticing they were there really. Once we reach our car, Elliot looks a bit uncomfortable. "Oh," he says. She looks up at him. "Oh?" He manages a smile. "Well, I have my own car, you see." She nods. "Alright then. I, well, do you boys have plans?" "Yes," I say quickly, and he glances at me, barely concealing his surprise from her. "Nothing specific," he adjusts. "Just going to mine, hanging out. You know." "Boy stuff." I blush for little to no reason and she laughs. "Behave yourselves, and you be home by 8, Simon, understood?" I want to grin, and perhaps do some kind of little dance, 'cause if she isn't going to mention my being grounded then certainly neither am I, but I only nod. "Yes, definitely. See you, Mum, thanks for checking in." She blows me a kiss, tells Elliot how nice it was to meet him in person at last, and drives off. "I like your mum," he tells me when we're back in his car. "I like you," I say 'cause I'm feeling silly. I lean over and kiss him. He returns it, but doesn't let us go any further. "Later, baby," he says and gets the car in gear. "Let's talk a bit first." So we do, about parents this time. My mum, what I remember of my dad, and then his parents. They sound like good people. A bit old fashioned, but he obviously grew up in a home with a lot of love and affection. I'm glad to hear it. Once we've entered his MANSION and checked for persons lurking in the shadows I immediately proceed to attack him. Covering him with kisses and pressing up against him, attempting to manage full body contact. He can hardly respond and laugh at the same time, so I back off a bit. "Sorry," I say, grinning. "But it's been all day seeing you, not being able to do much of anything, and it was driving me crazy." He nods, having wrapped his arms around my neck. "Yes, I know what you mean. Even with what we could or were brave enough to do, well, it's not the same as when we're alone." "Which we are, now," I say softly. "Yeah," he says even softer, almost teasing me by remaining slightly at a distance. I don't care a bit about winning the game, and lean in to kiss him. The Preppie At 7:30 he wants to know exactly how many minutes I think it will take for me to get him back home, not wanting to miss a single second with me, apparently. Which is quite a nice boost for the ego, even if he was only joking. "Don't know why you're so sour about going home, your mum's great." "Yeah, just, well, she's not you, is she?" I blush, yes, blush. I might as well be a girl sometimes, really. I mean boys can blush all right, but I feel like it's very girlie when I do it. I dunno why, I just can't pull the whole blushing thing off really. "S'pose not, too bad. I wouldn't mind the living with you bit." He grins and jumps on me from his spot on the couch formally beside me. Kisses me, starts... um..., rubbing. "Si," I gasp. "Ease off a bit, could you?" He does, instantly, but doesn't look hurt, just a bit concerned. "Er, sorry." I smile. "It's okay. Just, not yet, alright?" He grins, cheekily. "And certainly not now." I'm confused, after all, wasn't it him who started it? "Why not?" I ask. He laughs. "'Cause I have to leave soon, idiot! I haven't really mind for a quickie myself." He's evil, and knows it, so all I do is laugh with him, and then tackle him and like boys are supposed to, I guess, we wrestle around on the rugs for awhile until it really is time for him to be going. "Are your parents never home?" he asks as we drive. I frown a bit at this, but still feel I should answer his question. "Well, they are, it's just, I'm older now and... we live sort of independent lives a lot of the time. But it's just for sections. I mean, they might be very busy and away a lot for a month or something, but then they might have like half that amount of time off with not much of anything to do but shower me with love and," I grin, "expensive tokens of their affection." "Spoilt!" he shouts and cuffs me, though not too hard, because I'm driving. "Do you ever some time?" "What?" He asks. "I meant, do you ever want to MEET them sometime?" He looks a bit like he doesn't quite know how I mean. "Just as a friend, or as a boyfriend?" Yeah, about that, Simon. "Well, they don't know anything about my being gay or whatever, but they'd love you." He laughs quietly to himself, it's not really a funny ha-ha laugh though. "You think so, Elliot? What would they like best, do you think? The fact that I'm poor or the fact that I wear nearly all black and dye my hair. By the way, have you ever seen me in eye liner?" "What?!" I exclaim, too shocked by the last part to even deal with the other stuff he said before it. He grins. "Yeah, eye liner. It's more of a punk thing than a poofer thing though, really. Girls go mad for me at the clubs when I wear it, they say it brings out my eyes." I suppose I can imagine it, but MAKE-UP! That's for girls! "I'll bring out your eyes," I mutter, not even really knowing what that means. He just laughs more. "Jealous?" he teases. "Maybe," I say, realizing that, yeah, maybe that is part of it. Girls checking him out, trying to pick him up. He's MINE after all. Wasn't then I suppose, still, in a way I feel he always was. "I never," noticing I'm actually upset. "Yeah, I know," I say before he can finish. "Well then?" he asks. I shrug. "Dunno." "Tell me if you figure it out?" I nod. "Yeah." "Your parents," he reminds me after a bit of silence. "Oh, right. Did you mean for me to forget about that?" He smiles, but still looks a bit sorry. "At the time, yes. But, I didn't know how you'd react..." "I don't actually mind about the eye liner thing," I mention quickly, hoping he hasn't the wrong idea, because I don't really. I can't mind if it's about him. The other part though. "I know that, just the bit about girls. Wasn't the smartest thing to say." "It's okay," I say, waving him off. "My fault for being stupid." He almost laughs. "But your parents, El," I shake my head. "Yeah. About the stuff you said, they really wouldn't care. They didn't raise me to be a snob cause they aren't snobs themselves. And anyway, you're not poor." "Well," he says, smiling. "Compared to you." I swat at him with one hand, and don't even swerve the car. "Isn't it past time you should have gotten out?" "Yeah," he laughs. "You missed my turn-off a few minutes ago when I mentioned the eye liner, we're past it now." "Twat!" I say. "You'll be late now." He shrugs. "S'okay. Mum won't mind, if I tell her you got lost, she'll believe me. I bet she thinks you're used to having a choffeur." I fake grinding my teeth. "I swear, when we get out of this car, I'll get you." "Just have a try at it," he says, not the slightest bit afraid, not that he has need to be of course. "Can I walk you up?" I ask, feeling that I really want to, maybe I'll even be brave enough to chance a kiss on the doorstep. I've always wanted to do that. "Yeah," he says. We both get out and I do the electronic locking thing, which he snorts at, and mutters "spoilt" again, before we start walking up the street to his place. "Kiss me?" he asks, grinning, obviously having been on to my plot from the very beginning. I pout. "Not sure I want to now," "Oh, don't be like that..." he chides me, curling the ends of some of my hair in his fingers. I turn to leave, but then, at the last possible moment, spin around. "Alright," I say, and quickly, while he's still surprised, plant a fleeting kiss on his parted lips. I grin at him, waiting for whatever response he'll be able to come up with. "You'll pick me up tomorrow," he says, shaking his head, and deciding against trying to come up with some clever reply. Laughing, having won, I nod, smile goodbye, and then watch him go into his house. He watches me from his window, waves as I glance at him, and observes me driving off until I am no longer in view. It isn't until I'm a few blocks away that it occurs to me that he didn't ask me in. The Punk "A boyfriend and taxi service in one, how nice for you," my mum says, less jokingly than I would have hoped as I walk in. "Mum!" I say, hurt by the fact that she seems to have intended me to be. "I only wonder if that's how the lad might be feeling," "What?" I ask, having lost her meaning. She sighs, in that way mothers do. "Hurt, dear. Do you think he might be just a bit hurt right now?" Even more lost now. "But what for, we haven't had a row or anything." Once again with the mother sigh. "He drives you home, kisses you." I redden, and can't even bring myself to say, 'you saw that?' "And you don't even ask him in. My son, you probably didn't even say good-bye or goodnight." I want to be angry, indignant, protest my innocence perhaps, but I can only feel the deflation of guilt, knowing she's right, totally. It's worst, knowing I might have hurt Elliot. "I didn't mean." She nods. "I know you didn't. You don't ever mean the things you do that hurt people, you don't even know you do them most of the time. But I'm here to remind you about this one." Now I sigh. "I did it earlier too." "Did what?" I shrug. "Well, upset him. Doing something, saying something, I didn't think would hurt, but that ended up causing pain. Come to think of it, I might have done it altogether 4 or five times today." She shakes her head. "It's been a busy day then." I nod, my misery fully sinking in. "Can I call him?" "You can, you know his number." "You weren't even a teacher, that's a teacher move. I meant, as you KNOW, should I call him? Do you think it would help?" "It will, and you should. You will." My mother, now advising me, ORDERING me, to make things up to my boyfriend, this day must only get stranger as it goes along. "When?" "Right away, the phone should be ringing as he walks in the door." I won't mind doing it, and don't mind her telling me to do it, because it's about Elliot, and I never want to hurt him, I've done so today more times than I hoped to ever, so making it right is an easy thing to do, or at least, something I am eager to take a stab at. So I sit by the phone and listen to it ring and ring, until he finally picks up, sounding a bit ragged, just like you would if you had to rush for the phone. "This is Simon," I say. "Oh, hullo, Simon! What are you calling for?" He sounds happy to be hearing from me, but surprised. "To apologize." "For what?" "For a few things. For making you feel ignored today at school, for the thing at your house, for what I said in the car, and most recently for possibly making you feel like a taxi driver and not asking you in when you drove me home." "Well, I don't mind about the thing at my house, in fact, I was worrying about having hurt you, so that's okay." "I don't want you to ever think I'm after." "Oh I know!" he says quickly, adding, "And I never thought that." "Okay, but I did make you feel hurt?" "Well, yes, about the other stuff, but, it's alright now." "Anyway to make it up?" "You have already, calling. It's okay. I'm not hurt anymore." I've wanted to never hurt him, and in one day I've done more than I ever planned to. All part of being in love, I suppose, it makes you very vulnerable to the things the person you're in love with does. Maybe if he hadn't loved me, the things I had done wouldn't have hurt Elliot so much. But they did because he does, and I will loathe myself for it for a good long while because of it. "Don't beat yourself up about this, Simon, you must promise me. That will only hurt me more." How can you promise to just - SNAP - stop feeling a certain way about something? I'll try anything for him though. "Alright, I promise to try not to, other than that..." "Best you can do then. Call again later, to say goodnight?" I grin at this idea. "Yes, I will. I'd like to leave the phones off the hook all night so I could sleep with the receiver on my pillow and listen to you breathing as if it were you beside me." "That's very romantic, Si," he says, almost teasing me. I laugh. "I know, and horribly soppy, but I can't help it - and I meant it." "Yes, I knew you did. Until then?" "Should I call or you?" "When do you go to bed?" "About 11," "Me too, I'll call you, I guess." "Sounds fine," "Bye." "Yes, bye." Rung at 11, talked until almost one, until I was discovered by MOTHER UNIT 351, as she was, at that hour, on something of a mother autopilot, "LATE...SCHOOL...OFF...PHONE...TWAT". Elliot, having heard the whole thing, was laughing hard enough to be crying as well when I hung up. I was horribly embarrassed, and buried my head under my pillow, which was a silly thing to do really, because even if there had been anyone to see, my crimson cheeks wouldn't have been visible in the dark. The next morning when he comes, Elliot drives right up to the house and honks once like a cabby, and informs me of the rates as I get into the car. I laugh hysterically, it's made even worse when he looks down his nose at me, saying, "I was completely serious you know. Pay up or get out." "Can't do either, I'm afraid," I say, laughing harder still. "Why not?" "Am laughing too hard," between laughs. "The blue boys would think I was drunk or something. Disturbing the peace anyway." Throws the car into gear, and we tear off, fast, down the street. "Fast!" I gasp. "And me not even belted in. Be careful please, you've got precious cargo now." He takes a side-glance at me, serious. "I have, you're right." The rest of the way we go especially slow, stopping for the full periods of time, cautious enough to look suspicious for the other extreme. We park away a bit as before, this time with no discussion, and walk towards school silently. Waiting for us outside the school gates this time is Rob, and he's grinning. "Morning, boys," It's casual the way he's saying it, but I know he's our bodyguard. He's actually absently twisting a bike chain around his right hand and wrist as he surveys us. "All right, Rob?" I say, matching his laid-back attitude, hoping the chain isn't alarming Elliot. We've stopped walking and are now in a little group, just inside school grounds, pretending as if there aren't people staring at us rather un-nicely. "What's on tap for today?" he asks. I hadn't thought about it until now. "Er, dunno. I've got... History first today, I think. Elliot?" I ask, with an edge of concern, having noticed him beginning to turn slightly green. "Sorry. What?" he asks, still in the daze. "You alright?" "Yes, fine. Just, I'd forgotten, after yesterday, that we wouldn't always have classes together. It's Bio for me, in fact, we've got nothing together all day if I'm remembering correctly." I look at him oddly, though smiling slightly. "You've memorized my schedule?" I ask, with that same look. He blushes, and attempts to hide it badly. "Yes, I have. So what?" "So nothing," I say, tilting up his face from when he tucked it down trying to mask the colouring of his cheeks. "I'm Bio next too there, Elliot, trust me with him?" he directs the question to me. I smile, and then look into Elliot's eyes. "How 'bout it?" He's got his game face on. "That's great, it's amazing of you to even offer, Rob." I swear, rich people have such funny manners sometimes. I would have just slugged Rob in the shoulder, made some derogatory comment, and called it even. "Kay, well, let's go into together, and we'll stay close until morning assembly." On the way we find Kevin and Stacy, looking nervously around for us and Rowan, and relief is obvious on their faces when they see us. Next it's all of us, looking nervously around for Rowan, until we find him at his locker, late, which doesn't appear to be an unusual thing, except this time with everyone on edge and all, well, we found him anyway, and in the end that's all that matters. There's morning assembly, and then the bell for the opening lesson of the day, and we have to be separated. I hug him good-bye and then watch Rob walking my boyfriend down the hall and out of my sight. I sigh, hating any minute away from him, that, mingled with the ever-present worry. Rowan, the only one left with me by this point, pats my shoulder. "It'll be alright, mate," he assures me, I give him a smile of gratitude. As if Elliot wasn't more than enough on his own, scoring his friends out of the deal is really making this all so worth it. The Preppie Simon's friend Rob and I chat casually as we stroll to class. Something I've noticed since Simon about punks, they don't walk. They NEVER run. They saunter and strut and stroll, but by and large they won't be rushed and they won't move without involving finesse somehow. Rob is this rule to the extreme. I like him though, and he makes lessons without Simon bearable. It's so silly in a way. I mean, until we got together I was easily able to survive a day without him but now... I want him with me all the time. Doing any activity is made better with Simon. It's as if before him I wasn't really living. Merely existing, waiting for him to come along so I could come alive properly. But like I say, Rob's good at getting the time to pass. Together, we get glares and attract more attention than I may have on my own, but at the same time I'm probably a lot safer this way. As each class of the morning passes I'm checking off Simon's schedule against my own and against those of the others, hoping to be sure he's never alone. It doesn't happen that either of us is in the morning, so all I feel looking towards lunch is the excitement of being able to see him. It's been decided our practice will be to always leave campus at lunch, trying to avoid going to the same place too often, on the possibility someone might be waiting for us when we got there. We'd agreed on a place already this morning and I end up walking there with Stacy and we are joined by Rob. When we get there I see Ro and Simon already at a booth waiting for us. We sit down and Simon unashamedly kisses me and takes my hand. Ro and Rob chuckle while Stacy smiles. "Where's Kevin?" Stacy wonders aloud. No one's thought to worry yet, but I can tell that if this keeps up, well I suspect Stacy won't take much longer to panic. Then just as a bit too much of the white in her eyes is beginning to show Kevin breezes in, plops himself down beside her and steals one of her chips. "Thieving bastard," she says, slapping him, but is too relieved by his arrival to mean it. "Why ya late, Kev?" Ro asks lazily. Kevin only shrugs. "Didn't really know I was. Had no delays, just maybe that my locker's a bit away." He's fine, obviously, so no one really takes it further. Back in class for the afternoon, I'm worried throughout the first two sets, thinking of Simon alone in P.E. Stupid class! 'Pointless exercises' is right. At break I rush to his locker, not caring at all that it makes me look like such a puppy and almost cry with relief to find him already there getting some books for his next lesson. "I wish one of us had it with you," I say even though he IS fine. He smiles at me. "I know you do, and I'd feel the same if it were you but you know full well the thing I'm going to say is what you'd say to me, so don't argue." "What?" "Worrying will do nothing but make a not-so-great situation worse, so try and cut it out." "Sod. That is what I'd say, you wouldn't listen though." "And I assume neither will you." _____________ We go to mine again after school since it's just easier, considering that sometimes his mum is home and also just because it's what's gotten to be familiar. Also, I remember what he said to me right at the beginning and don't want to give him any reason to think I'm ashamed to know him, let alone love him. We've been pissing about for over an hour, watching TV and kissing and generally not doing much of anything when we head to the kitchen to make ourselves something to eat. We're horsing around in there, chasing each other around, me with a wet wash cloth and him with a wooden spoon that he grabbed off the counter, raised, when from behind us we hear a surprised gasp. I spin around to see my mother, a hand to her face and my father, who's sort of sprung in front of her, wielding his briefcase. "Hi, Mum, Dad," I say, trying a cheerful grin, hoping they'll soon recover from their surprise. "Er, Mum, Dad," I continue, putting down the cloth. "This is Simon, my friend." They're still quite shocked but mum manages to nod and gets out a "how do you do?" "Just fine," he replies, even though it's hard to believe anyone would be if they found themselves under the extreme scrutiny my parents were currently subjecting him to. I guess I know why they're staring but it's funny, ever since the first kiss, he's just been Simon. The clothes and the hair and the chains are still there to be sure, but I don't really find myself noticing them any more. But now, with my parents examining him so closely, it registers again. Today, he's wearing black jeans, a black T-shirt, tight, with 'F*uck Authority' on it, chains hang from his belt, there are ball bearings on his wrists and neck and, his hair looking about the same, which for Simon is jet black, free of gel, sticking out at random angles, aided I suppose only by static electricity. He wears no piercings, but there's a medieval star on the underside of his wrist, which I'm sure they've noticed. "Guys?" I ask, hoping to snap them out of it. It's dad who wakes up first. He's able to rip his eyes away from Simon enough to elbow my mother and she asks him again "how do you do?" "Still fine," he snaps, unable to help it. He even glances over at me, looking sorry but I give him a 'I don't mind' smile 'cause if anyone's behaving poorly it's them. Finally and at last, they recover and mum suggests tea while dad goes off to hang their coats, something they neglected to do in all the excitement of rushing into the kitchen, which I reckon they did 'cause of the noise we were making. The conversation over tea isn't exactly what you'd call comfortable, but it's just about as good as tea ever is with your parents and a new friend. They never stop that weird look from coming back each time they look at him, but I don't think it's one of disapproval, just that he's something very new for them to be observing, especially at their own dinner table. We ring his mum, asking if Simon can stay a bit later than usual, since Mum's asked him to dinner as well as the tea. The whole time I can't quite read Simon, but assume it's probably just 'cause he's being extra cautious around my parents. We get to be alone at last, in my room after dinner, and he slumps a bit against my wall, sitting on my bed, saying nothing. "Sorry," I say, feeling that a blanket apology for my parents behavior is in something of a demand. He looks up at me. "Wasn't you," he says frankly. "But?" "Well, I expected them to be surprised, but in the end, I thought I would be able to win them over. I thought I could get them to like me." "Like you?" "They're your parents. I wanted them to like me. We're in this for the long haul, I hope." I rush to him, and take him in my arms. "Of course we are. And I didn't see anything that made me think they didn't like you." "Well," he says, turning a bit. "Maybe they don't DISlike me, but I was hoping I'd be able to charm them or something. I want them to be FOND of me." I'm beginning to get it now. "So when we eventually tell them about us, they'll be upset, but by that point like you so much, perhaps even love you, at least part of them will be okay with it from the get-go." He nods, eyes lowered. "Maybe that seems a bit dumb, but it was how I was thinking about things." "Not dumb, not at all." I say, rubbing his chest. "I feel the same kind of thing about your mum, only she knows already, and now I just want her to like me so she won't discourage you from seeing me." "She wouldn't even if she didn't like you, which I think she does." "Well, I'm not honestly sure they'd accept us even if they do get to love you, which I bet they will." "That's a very bright outlook to have, you've really cheered me up, thanks, El." I laugh, and kiss his cheek. "Yeah, well, I do my best." School again the next day, then a weekend. Together. A night over at his and then the other at mine. We do nothing those nights, in case you're wondering, except talk and hold each other sleeping. I'm not even exactly sure what we'd do if the time came, and it doesn't feel like it should any time soon. Things almost die down a bit. The harassment simmers a little, and no one tries anything physical, just the nasty comments as usual. About two weeks into things, it sort of erupts again. It starts with him and gym class. I've always hated that he had to take that alone, and feared something would happen eventually. Then it did. It's one of those stupid things. So predictable. A bunch of loser jocks corner him in the men's and beat him black and blue. I bet the bastards would have raped him too, but they were probably too damn thick for it to even occur to them. He went down fighting though, and in the end that probably made them even more angry. Not just queer, but insolent. Rebellious. Doesn't know his place. No matter how they've tried to drill it into him every day since we've been together, all they do, it just makes him braver. And angrier, which is an anger he's not afraid to do something about. I hate it though, that they always seem to go after him. It's never me who gets crowded in the halls, or spit at. Even when we're together, it's like I'm not really even there. Or they call him my 'wife' or 'girlfriend'. Mostly, alone, I get stared at or ignored, but never really tortured or out and out attacked. And it's nothing from the Punks as well. Either they don't care, so they might even be friendly occasionally, or they're a bit annoyed we haven't tried to organize a war, but are happy to let us continue as long as it keeps pissing the other preps and jocks off, or even if they hate us for being gay, me, a loathed preppie, I'm not considered worth their trouble. It's a different thing for them. Simon's almost been excommunicated in a way, but I'm below their emotions. I don't count enough to get upset over. With my former clique, it's an unforgivable sin to have publicly shunned them, even though I was always known as one who didn't really care much for trying to fit in, and to save face, they have to punish me for it. Which they do, by taking it out on Simon. He's the best target anyway. There's a sort of rule, you don't take on one of your own. Even if they're not yours anymore. There are always others who can take the blame. I'm furious with rage when I find out the news, which comes from Rowan, who shares Simon's last afternoon set following P.E. Si's usually the angriest of all, but this time he suggests we just leave it. And let the teachers deal with it. A punk, suggesting that a matter be left in the hands of authority. It's almost laughable. I agree though, actually it's only from Rowan that we have any trouble, mostly because of how fond he's gotten of Simon since that first lunch, but in the end we're able to calm him down and I'm happy to see the school crack down on the perpetrators. We settle in after that. Everything going much as usual, except that now a physical threat, at least, is basically out of the way. Several fights are caused, punks and preps brawling over stupid things, possibly resulting from the extra tension we've added, but then, there were always scuffles between us. The mysterious help Stacy hinted at near the beginning comes occasionally - different people, ones who never really talk to us or acknowledge they're doing anything. It's things like in groups people who might be about to come after us get jostled 'accidentally' or distracted. Apparently there's some underground gay army or something like that. I don't know how Stacy came to know of them, but they give us a hand every once in awhile. We settle in at our homes too. His mum, who knows of course, gets slowly more and more comfortable with us, and with time we don't even feel awkward holding hands on the couch when watching TV with her in the room or something like that. He'll kiss me goodbye without hesitation, whether she's hovering about or not. As far as MY parents go, they do start to like him. A bit, it's not as perfect as we might have hoped, but they try their best, and at least give us lots of space to do our thing, and never once talk about him negatively. It never occurs to me then, to think that that might have only been because they were holding it all inside.