Date: Wed, 11 Aug 2004 11:57:15 -0600 From: Karla Schulz Subject: The Preppie and The Punk Chapters 8-11 Good god y'all. Mother fucking April. That's the last time I posted. That's brutal. It's just that, well, there's a complicated and vaguely valid reason, but it's boring, and I'm sure the two of you who still occasionally check this story would be much more interested in actually reading it than listening to me ramble. So here it is, the shocking conclusion, in one long big ass chapter, for reasons that invovle the explanation I'm attempting to spare you all. Also, I believe this the unedited version, so you'll just have to bare with me on that. On with the show! --- The Preppie As she promised she would my mum's `handled' the abuse Simon'd been receiving in school for so long. Basically what happened was she made several calls and there was a tolerance seminar given and hall and classroom security's been beefed up. But lately I'm starting to doubt the wisdom of her actions for the long term. Ever since it happened all the anger once directed at Simon has been internalized. Now that they're unable to do much with it their anger is just stewing. There's a palpable tension in the air. And it's building. ____________ "I say we get that Poof once and for all." Drew snarls one afternoon. There are murmurs of agreement. "What do you mean exactly?" Tommy Chad asks nervously--not that he won't go along. I've fallen silent. Drew makes a fist and slams it against his other palm. "We can't touch him at school--so we get `em after school! Those other traitor poofers Kevin and Rowan as well." He turns to me, a twisted grin on his face. "When we catch them Elliot, I'll even let you do the honors." All the stuff before?--even the locker room stuff, that was bad, but this is different. They're practically starting to sound like they're plotting a murder. Sure, I can warn Simon and the others, but how long would they be able to watch out? Who I actually find myself wanting to talk to first and straight away is not Simon (and not just cause I'm a bit afraid to tell him) but my mum. There are just some occasions where even though it sounds a bit daft, and daft may be how you feel about it at the time, what you want is a level headed adult to talk to. Someone to cluck disapprovingly at you and look at you in an obvious recollection of what a sweet untroublesome baby you once were, wondering to themselves what happened to that child before dolling out somewhat world weary advice and promising to take care of everything. If even if you don't quite believe they can. I'm SO desperate to talk to her I actually consider leaving school early to do it. But then I remember she's almost certainly not home. I could go to Stacy, but I'm not sure what to do about any of it yet, and before I talk to any of them I'd like to know a bit of what our plan could be. I feel helpless and hopeless. I decide to leave the school anyway, skive off for awhile, and just go for a walk for a lesson or two's worth of time. It's after walking around randomly for nearly half an hour that I run into a most unexpected person. "Oh! Rob, um, hello," I say having recovered from my surprise. He actually smiles. "It's fantastic to see you as well Elliot, really! I've missed you too." I laugh, from surprise as much as anything else. Be honest, I decide. After all, why not? "I was sort of under the impression you weren't exactly fond of me at the moment." "Oh yes? Who gave you that impression?" He asks looking mildly amused. I shrug. "Someone who's honor I may be doing a pretty crappy job of defending." "Ah, who else? It's partly true of course, not that he lied to you. Only it's not YOU I'm upset with, it's the whole system--there's a unique punk point of view. `Damn the establishment!' I'm such a special case. Really. But as I was saying, you're fine guy, I like you even, but it's a bit hard. Simon swears to me you're having a hard time too, and when I try to put myself in YOUR shoes I get what he means just fine only I'm most often too caught up in being in my own shoes to be worrying about yours. Know what I mean? We take our frustrations out on the wrong people sometimes." "I know exactly what you mean." He nods. "I think you do, it's yourself you're fond of putting things on though isn't it?" I feel myself flinch. "Did Simon tell you that?' He shakes his head vigorously. "Not at all, he'd never. THAT I was able to figure out on my own, it's quite obvious. Another thing I picked up on one of my virtual visits to your shoes." I don't know what to say so I just smile and we walk together in silence for a time. "What were you doing out walking around like this, when school's still in session?" He asks me eventually. I grin. "Could ask you the same thing." He smiles. "Touché and all that but seriously, you must know I'm just not one for school much of the time, YOU on the other hand have quite exemplary attendance records. Punctuality lapses not with standing. Out with in then," I wonder, should I really just tell him? "It's quite, um, complicated," "You aren't sure you want to tell me, or that you want me to be the first one that you do." I stare at him wide-eyed. "Good guess?" "Good at reading people." "I'll say." I say with a `damn right you are' nod. "Tell me only if you want to, we can just keep walking and being delinquents if it works better for you." "I'm feeling very confused about some stuff and..." "Now I've got it!" "Have you?" I ask, already half certain he does. "I think you might be afraid it's something that'll set me off. What's the matter? Someone threatening Simon in your presence?" "You're fuckin freaking me out mate!" I exclaim with a look of disbelief. "You're an open book." "Thanks." I mutter. "No offense." "Some taken." "I'm sorry?" I look at him. Then smile. "You aren't, but that's okay. You were right, by the way. And it seemed... a lot more serious than some of the other stuff--I mean REALLY serious." "A gay bashing ALL the trimmings? Maybe even a nice crucifixion to finish it all off?" "You put that rather lightly." "They're shits, they probably won't do anything." "You think?" He looks deeply into me. "Not anymore." "What?" "Well, look at you! You're terrified, and you were there, not me. If you thought they sounded serious, I'll take your word." "What should I do?" He laughs harshly. "Couldn't hope to tell ya. Wouldn't be my place even if I had the hint of an idea. What CAN you do?" "Go to the police, the school, some authority," He curls his lip. "Blow your cover." "If it meant saving their lives! Or nearly, how could I not?" He smiles. "Maybe I didn't mean that quite like I said it, I was just wondering if there might be another way out, I mean, I don't know what it is, but you should definitely give that some thought first, get me? Eliminate all other options before you head off on some Kamikaze mission, eh?" The Punk I'm sitting alone in the library when a bloke whose face I recognize but name I don't know approaches me wearing a serious expression. "That ex-boyfriend of yours and his mates are planning to attack you and your two friends sometime soon off-grounds." He says abruptly. I stare at him blankly. "What?" "We heard them talking about in the lunch area." Now of course I know Elliot would never have anything to do with actually hurting me, but if they were all talking about it around him there wouldn't be much he could do or say about it. I continue to stare at him not sure how to respond. He shrugs and smiles. "Just thought you could use the heads up. We're rooting for you." Having said this he turns and swiftly exits the library. I'm still in sort of a stunned trance as I make my way to my first lesson of the afternoon. I sit down in desk half-oblivious to any and all things happening around me but Rowan spots me and bounces over. Since that night at the club he's acted very much the same as always, and has seemed extremely relieved to have me act the same. "You look cheerful this afternoon," He informs me brightly. I'd scowl at him and tell him to piss off but it occurs to me that it's not only me the preps are after. "Ro, we have to talk about some stuff but after school's out alright?" He nods with a concerned look in his eyes. "Whenever mate." After school we take his car to mine and flop down on the couch, watching TV but not really paying any attention to the screen. I'm lost in thought, Rowan, well, who knows. "So are you going tell me what's going on now or what?" Rowan asks. "We could be in some serious trouble." "Who? Me and you?" I nod. "And Kevin as well." He raises his eyebrows. "What kind of trouble?" I tell him what the guy in the library told me. "Well that certainly could be classified as `trouble'. Fuck. What do we do?" "I don't know, like, fight back? That's not going to work by the sounds of it, not it theres a huge pack of them. I need to talk to Elliot." He nods. "For sure, figure this shit out. And talk to your mums, I think we're pretty over our heads about this one." "We forgot about one thing," "Kevin? "Yeah," I say with a sigh. He pats my knee. "Don't worry--I'll talk to him." I smile gratefully. We regard each other in silence for a few minutes. Comfortable silence, but one that doesn't last. "I feel stupid but I'm, well," "Scared?" "Shitless." "Huh, and I'm not? You name me one person who WANTS to be gang beaten. And I used to hang out with those guys, when they're pissed off--which we know they are, fuck, they don't mess around." "You've made me feel SO much better." "That's what I'm here for." "That and a pretty face." "I figured that went without saying." "Idiot." He smiles; this is his favorite game. And I always let him win. "Slut." ____________ "Is Elliot there?" A women (his mum I think) had picked up, and I'd attempted my most polite sounding voice. "Yes he is, just a second," I wait, breathing a sigh of relief at how easily that went. "Ahoy, hoy!" "What the heck?" "Don't you ever watch the Simpson's?" "How'd you know it was me?" "My mum said the caller sounded extremely nervous." "Shuttup! I did not." He laughs. "I'm just telling you what she told me! Don't shoot the messenger and all that stuff. So what's up?" "So I have to have a reason to call my husband now?" "No, but I'm pretty sure you do." "And I'M pretty sure you already know about why I'm calling." "I'm not sure I know that you mean." "Were you going to tell me or what?" I say suddenly feeling upset. "Tell you what?" Elliot demands sounding a bit shrill. "That you and your preppie friends were planning on beating me, Rowan and Kevin up!" "Who told you that?" "ELLIOT!" "Look I WAS going to call you, but I didn't think you already knew and I was scared to tell you." "Why?" I ask my voice softening. "Cause I don't know what to do! And I wanted to have that figured out before you found out about it. That way it would have been like `here's this shitty thing--but I already have the solution'." "That's sort of sweet I suppose--but stupid Elliot. Also very stupid." "I know." Silence. "Hey what the hell did you mean `ME and my preppy friends'?! You think I'd help them hurt you?" He sounds half-ready to cry half-ready to punch me. "Sorry about that, `I didn't mean it' is the first part I guess. I was just pissed off." "Yeah, that makes me feel better." "Sorry okay! Heat of the moment, forgive me?" "Yeah I'm sorry too--for not telling you and everything. I don't suppose YOU have a miracle solution in your pocket about this thing huh?" "Sorry but no. Tell me more of what they said though. Like what impression did you get from talking to them." I hear him sigh desolately. "I got the impression they wanted to kill you guys, or close to it." "Um, ha-ha?" I ask hopefully. Another sigh. "I'm so scared right now Simon, I don't know what I'm supposed to do and I know if I don't find a way to stop this I'll hate myself forever." "It's not on your head. It's not up to you." "I think it is. I know what they want to do so that means I can stop it." "How are you supposed to stop a bunch of pissed off spoilt brats with lead pipes or whatever?" "I'm just going to have to come clean." "How will THAT solve anything?" "I mean talk to the police like, tell them what I heard." "The POLICE?" "They were deadly serious Simon." He says quietly. My heart begins to beat faster and faster in my chest and my hands are even shaking a bit. "We need to talk to our mums about this stuff, you trust yours right?" "Yeah, I wanted to tell her earlier, but my dad's around." "Okay well we'll talk again after that then. Try not to worry too much okay?" "Like THAT'S going to happen." "I love you, we'll work it out." "I love you too." "Bye." "Bye." "Talking to Elliot?" I jump. "Holy crap mother!" I shout. "Trying to give me a bloody heart attack?! Don't sneak up on me like that!" She smiles. "So sorry love. How is he?" I sigh. "Not good actually, in fact there's some stuff we need to talk about." Interest definitely perked she suggests we move into the living room. I pour out the whole story. She takes it rather well. Er, that is, if silence counts as taking it well. I mean, she's not CRYING right? "And he suggested going to the police?" I hadn't meant to tell her that bit--afraid it would upset her too much--but it just kind of slipped out somewhere along the lines. I nod, and am sorry that I had let it slip. "Then it must be serious. I always worried something like this would happen but hoped my worry was for nothing. But I'm going to handle this. We need a mother conference I think." A what? "A WHAT?" She smiles. "First me and Elliot's mum need to talk, but the other boys," "Rowan and Kevin," "Right, we may need to talk to their parents as well. Depending what we decide to do." I'm beginning to feel uncomfortable under her gaze. "What?" "I'm very glad you came to me about this, when I imagine what could have happened had you tried to solve this on your own it gives me chills." Why do mothers always have to have a `but'? "But?" "I probably shouldn't tell you this, but I'm going to. It scares me, knowing how worried you had to be to talk to me about it, going to an adult for help and assistance isn't the usual teenage response to a dilemma." I shrug. "This is no time to fuck around." She looks shocked. "Shit! Oh jeez! Sorry mum." She smiles. "I'll let it go--due to strange and unusual circumstances. It's not as if I'm not aware that you use such words," "Just not around you?" "That would be appreciated." The Preppie That night it seems to take forever for my dad to shut himself into his study, but when he finally does I'm able to signal my mum to stay and we're left alone in the complete privacy of our expansive living room. "What's the matter dear?" She asks looking very concerned. "You know how things have been better at school lately right?" She nods. "Well I'm afraid that's starting to change." She looks confused. "It's just, everyone's feeling frustrated and it's like they have no release any more." "No more lower being punching bag." I nod, though her response surprised me. "Today at lunch a bunch of the other preps," she seems to know who I'm referring to, "started some talk. Like they want to get Simon and teach him a lesson. They're after Rowan and Kevin also. But it sounded REALLY serious mum, not like a fist fight between an equal number of people, I mean a massive gang up. They're so angry and full of hate, I think at least some of them might actually want to KILL Simon." She doesn't say anything, but I don't think it's because she's in shock or anything like that. She's just thinking. My mum can be an excellent thinker. It's a few minutes before she responds. "I'm stumped darling, we have to go to the Head Master--that much is clear." She sighs. "I'll need to have a talk with your father as well, better that he find out from me." I think I'd known all long really, that it would come to this in the end, but it never stopped me from hoping it wouldn't. I try to give her a brave smile. "Let's leave it until tomorrow though okay, it's important that we don't just sit around doing nothing but they won't try anything until they've had at least a day or two more planning it and acting all tough to each other." She takes me into a quick hug. "I'll set him straight--try not to worry, and if you like we'll wait for a little while. You should really be off to bed now though. Goodnight?" Her words sound like a request. Somehow I think her image of me has changed a lot since the start of all this. I'm less of her baby boy now, that much I know. I kiss her cheek, smile and head to bed. The next day goes much as I could have predicted it would. There is a lot of bullshit talk, plans greater and more daring then they'd ever even TRY to pull off, but the serious undertone remains. They WILL get Simon, Rowan and Kevin. It's get the queers time. Drew is a fast and convincing talker, and the others, even the ones who appeared less enthusiastic at first, are getting swept up in his plot. I say very little, and just barely keep the look of horror and disgust off my face, but I listen as carefully as I can, wanting to know as much about what they hope to achieve as possible. Even though Stacy is normally with me in school it seems to be the general consensus to `spare' the girls of any gory details, avoiding mention of anything relating to the plan when in earshot of any of the them, so I'm surprised when Stacy slips me a note near the end of the day that says, "Hang in there! It's going to be okay, your beautiful girlfriend promises! The ONE wants to see yo u after school today--the women who gave you life will be there!" Obviously `the ONE' is Simon, and I shoot her a perplexed look. She smiles and blows me a kiss before mouthing, `his house'. I fully intended to follow orders, but as I'm taking stuff out of my locker, someone taps me on the shoulder. "Elliot--can I talk to you?" It's Rudy Baker, one of my `friends' from the preppie pack. He's sort of a higher up, but I've always had an extra bit of trouble hating him cause in a way he never seems to have any fun being rich, popular and powerful. Almost in the same way it didn't used to be fun for me, except in his case it's as if, though he wishes he had a different life, he feels obligated to perform as expected in the one he's stuck with. It's not a life that really seems to suit him either. At times I've observed him to be far too intelligent and kind to really be down with the whole Preppie game. Hands too often in pockets to seem enthusiastic about much, clever eyes too often roaming away from the talk of the group to suggest much more than a passing interest. Even his looks are a bit wrong for it. Though definitely what I'd consider cute--he's smaller than most in our year, with cropped chestnut hair and handsomely styled glasses. "Sure," I say. Not like I could really say `no'. He IS supposed to be my friend after all. We start walking in step. "What's up?" He looks uncomfortable. "Not here, okay?" Confused but admittedly intrigued I simply nod. Our walk leads us into the Orchestra room, which is conveniently empty and soundproof (no one to hear me scream!). "So seriously mate what's on your mind?" He looks me right in the eye. "Do you still care anything for Simon Kelly?" So, that wasn't what I excepted. He didn't even blink when he asked me. I have no idea what to say. Shocked as I am, I suppose I must act angry. "What the fuck do you mean? Just what to you mean by that?!" I know my part pretty well by now. His discomfort grows. "Didn't mean anything! Really, I just thought, well, you had to have had some type of feelings for him at one time and maybe you don't want him in your life anymore or whatever but do you honestly approve of going after him like Drew's planning? And what about Kevin and Rowan--they were our friends." I stare at him. Just what is he playing at? His face is troubled and his eyes look scared. "You don't want to help them go through with it," I speak slowly as it dawns on me. Miserably, he shakes his head. "No, I can't. And I'm going to talk to McDougal about it. This is too fuckin much," I look at him fiercely, trying to figure him out. "Why come to me about this? What makes you think I won't just tell the others and help them stop you?" I say this while trying to sound slightly menacing, since I'm still worried it might be an act. He meets my eyes once more, apparently having regained his confidence. "I know you won't do that." "How?" My voice has dropped to a softer tone. He looks at me defiantly. "I saw you--when Drew started talking about getting the whole bunch of them, I saw you flinch. I knew then you didn't want them to do it." My shoulders sag. "Do you think anyone else noticed?" He shakes his head. "No, no one else was paying any attention." "How come you were?" He shrugs. "Sometimes I've caught you sneaking glances at him, and once when I was passing in the corridor you smiled at each other. Are you still together?" Even though I'm loath to, I nod, and in that small act handing over to this boy control of my happiness and perhaps even my very life. To my surprise he smiles. "I'm so glad!" "What?" "I was so discouraged when I thought you'd given up love for all the stupid bastards in this school, but knowing you haven't! It's great." So much for trying to figure him out! "Wait a minute, I thought you were just having cold feet--you actually `like' that I'm gay?" He shrugs. "I liked that you got out--or at least I thought you got out. As for your being gay I don't really care. You weren't happy when you used to hang out with us and you seemed really happy when you were with Kelly, even though you two were getting messed with." "I never knew you even paid attention to me." He smiles regretfully. "I didn't want to be too obvious about it--but you've always interested me." I'm not comfortable enough with him to joke or tease, but I do smile. "So what do you think the HM will do?" "Go to the cops probably, I mean, they're making threats right? To perform a hate crime? Plans and all that? There's plenty of crimes in there." "But what if they find out it was you?" I can't believe how casual he's being. "Probably I'll be allowed to remain anonymous, but if not I dunno, my parents won't care. I can easily transfer schools if I really need to, but I think more than likely it'll be Drew and his crew that gets tossed." I raise my eyebrows. He laughs. "My dad's a lawyer, my mum too actually. I'm not such wuss." "I never thought you were a wuss." "Maybe not, but the others do. Course they fear me in a way too. Doesn't matter. I think it'll be okay. Can I ask you something?" "You've asked me plenty already, I don't seen the harm in one more question." "Why?" "Why do I pretend to hate him?" He nods. "My olds. My dad basically. They were going to send me away." "Price?" I laugh. "How'd you know?" "It's where the rich go when their parents want to get rid of them." "Listen, this is incredible. I don't know how to thank you--you're saving ALL our arses. I thought I was going to have to take care of this on my own, and that would have meant getting my parents involved probably. Telling my dad." "And then, boarding school." "Right." "I'm glad to help--fuck, can you imagine if I'd been wrong?" I shake my head. "Let's not even go there." We smile at each other. "What about the leftovers? Not all of them will get expelled, and those that do might still come after Si and the others," I'm a doubter, what do you want from me?! He flashes me a reassuring smile. "I think if they get scared enough, you know, just the THREAT of real prison time, it'll wake most of them up. Make them see BEFOREHAND that what they're thinking is stupid and dangerous and then there shouldn't be much of a problem. They'll still be pissed, but when you get right down to it--most of them aren't bad guys. I know it doesn't really seem like it, but they are. I bet I'm not the only one who was at least THINKING about going to authority. Anyway they all have plans, Uni and stuff. If they're made to see how much this could screw up their lives, I think most of them will easily back out. Drew of course is a tougher cause, but since he's the ringleader and all, the penalties might be enough to keep him out of our hair. Anyway, take away his supporters and he's just a hate filled git with no one to do his dirty work for him." I shake my head in admiration. "Lawyers son eh? Think you might carry on the family business?" He just winks. I look at my watch. "Shit! I have to go--thank you SO much again, but don't do anything quite yet! I mean, I have to go really, right now, but I'll call you tonight okay, there might be some, er, new developments," He can only nod before I turn on my heels and race out the room, down the halls and out of the school. I speed to Simon's house (my first time speeding in quite awhile) and burst through his door, panting. Simon and our mothers are all sitting together in his living room, looking calm. "Sorry I'm late!" They smile. "I thought you'd be worried." Simon gets up. "We were, a little. But I figured you just got caught up with whatever." It hits me then that he's HERE, with me and I hug him, not caring for the few seconds the hug lasts that my mum, who I'm still not totally sure is comfortable with us, or at least not all aspects of us, is in the room. When I glance at her she gives me a tight smile. She's still `trying'. But it's better than nothing. I take a seat beside Simon. There's silence for half a second before I just explode with everything I remember about my talk with Rudy, following that there is another period of silence. A stunned silence. "Do you think it'll work?" Simon asks looking at his mum, with a face that's a window to a person who is desperately hoping for confident agreement. She purses her lips. "It might, I certainly hope it will. And it's immensely brave what that boy is offering to do, what do you think Ella?" Ella? She's on first name basis with my mother? Apparently so, since my mum smiles. "Rudy Baker comes from a wonderful family, his parents are excellent people. It would seem to be a perfect solution, and I hope it will solve some of the difficulties we are having, but something more must be done. Simon, we must ENSURE your safety, yours as well darling." She says looking at us a bit sadly. Still, once again she's surprised me with her strength. "How do you purpose we do that?" "I think when considering your school situation it is more the emotional safety or well-being to be concerned with at this point. If all goes well with Rudy's proposal the physical threat may be illuminated. I shall make fully certain that those who are expelled stay gone and don't get any ideas about coming back for one more stab at revenge. Perhaps the knowledge that something very sinister almost occurred will help some of those other children to see the harm of their actions. But there is another problem we have, one which gives me much greater worry." "What's that mum?" She sighs, looking at me with that special kind of sad look only a mother can achieve. "Your father." My insides clench up, as they almost always do now whenever he's in mention. "What about him worries you Ella?" Simon's mum (Carol) asks. "He knows nothing of this plan surely!" My mum laughs weakly. "Oh no of course not! But what I'm afraid of is that he might not be totally against it if he DID know. My husband is NOT a murderer, or physically violent, but he truly believes that Simon is a terrible threat to Elliot," She glances over at me. "It's your future he's worried about, as hard as it is for you to understand, he thinks he's helping you. When he first found out he went into a blind rage, but I was able to calm him, and we talked about you. How much we both loved you and we agreed we weren't going to allow you to throw your life away on a passing phase." Hearing this hurts a great deal, even though I do trust I have her support now. "The plans we had for your future weren't going to happen if you continued on with Simon, but we didn't think of your feelings. Perhaps we thought it was you we had in mind, but it was only our version of you. The way you never got in much trouble turned out to work against you in the end. We didn't see you realistically, did n't think of your limitations or of your own will for your life. All we could see was a problem, a barrier that would stop you from reaching your potential." She looks directly at Simon for the first time, maybe ever. He shifts nervously but meets her gaze. "I don't believe I have ever apologized to you, and I would like to do that now. I was very wrong about you, not just about what you were to my son but also about you as a person. I am truly sorry for that." His eyes have widened, and I elbow him gently. "It's okay," he croaks. She smiles. "I consider myself lucky to have you as a son-in-law." He blushes crimson and ducks his head down, then sneaking a look at his mother. She laughs. "I knew already." "How?" "Not that you had made it official--that Ella told me sometime after her arrival once we had begun talking easily with each other, but I have always known you were permanent. You told me yourself at the very beginning." He smiles. "I guess I did." "How did you tell her?" I ask, also smiling. "I just told her you were the only one I wanted." My cheeks flush but for once I don't try to hide it. Looking back at my mum I remember what was happening before this pleasant detour. "What about dad mum?" This brings us all back with a rather unpleasant jolt. "The problem is HE has not come to realize how wrong we were concerning your relationship. In his mind the `problem' has been eradicated, but to your dad Simon still IS a problem. Still would be a problem if he were to become aware things have not ended as he currently believes. At this time he suspects nothing, and for that we could consider ourselves lucky. This other problem however, and though may it be solved and done away with, has made something clear to me. There are many holes in this game we are all playing. It is not right or safe, all this deception." I see Carol nod in agreement. "He could find out any number of ways, and all this hiding is not good for you two." We look at each other but say nothing. "I will not go ahead with my plan at all if you would have me not, but I would like to begin telling him." I almost jump out of my seat. My eyes blaze. "You can't do that! You promised you wouldn't!" Simon takes my hand. "Elliot, she said she wouldn't if you didn't want her too," He reminds me calmly. It was as if I totally blocked that part out, all I had heard was her saying she was going to tell him. "What did you mean then?" I ask meekly. "You know I don't want him to know--he'd try to hurt Simon!" I've figured out her fear. "That's what you meant isn't it?!" I say triumphantly. "You're scared if he finds out he'd do something to Simon!" She makes no attempt to deny it. "Then how could you suggest telling him?" "I have that fear, you were right, but that is WHY I want to tell him." "I don't understand," "Frankly neither to I Ella," Carol snaps. "Then let me try to explain. I fear what he would do if he found out some other way, and all at once. I would hope to tell him slowly. First just by educating him about homosexuality. We are very behind in our ideas about homosexuals. It's gay now isn't it?" I almost want to laugh, but I just nod. "When we were growing up it was considered a mental illness, a crime, or a passing phase. Not a legitimate way of life. Not the way some people just ARE, which doesn't stop them from being completely `normal'. These are things I am still learning, things that I want him to know. Most importantly I would like to be in control of when he finds out--for I believe eventually he WILL find out. I need to be there when that happens, to get him past his initial reaction which will most certainly be a bad one. Will you let me try?" She is asking not just me but all of us. Simon speaks first. "I think you should do it," he says, and squeezes my hand. Terrified though I am, I know he's right, that SHE is right. Carol is nodding also. "I only hope I know him as well as I believe I do, that the good man I first fell in love with still exists. I think I can get through to him, and I have never been more determined to do so that I am about this, but it will take time and it will take patience. We must try to understand him better as well darling," I have an idea of what she means. "It's hard to suddenly realize much of what you believe is wrong, to feel your values and ideas about the world ripped out from under you, and it can be extremely difficult to adjust. I know he has hurt you deeply, but do you still love your father enough to help me try and make him understand?" I'm more than half-ready to cry, but I nod. ____________ I'm still pretty much an emotional basket case when we get home hours later, but I remember my promise to call Rudy and know I have to do that before throwing myself into bed. "Hello, Rudy?" I ask of the voice sounding very much like his that answered the phone. "Nope, James, his brother, I can get him for you though," "Thanks," I say hoping my embarrassment doesn't come across on the phone. "This is Rudy," "Hey, it's Elliot," "Oh! So you called after all, thought maybe you weren't going to." "I know it's pretty late, but I had a lot of stuff to work out with Simon and everything," "So are there any er, `new developments'?" I smile at his excellent memory. "Your help would still be very much appreciated, we're going to tell my dad anyway, but not all at once sort of. As well as generally saving the day you'd be buying us time." "Ah, got it--give it to him slowly." "I could swear you've had experience." After all, what makes him so cool about all this? He laughs. "You're not just a pretty face then!" "Excuse me, a `pretty face'?" I retort petulantly. "Be calm, I said you weren't just! Cause you were right, about me having experience. Second hand experience but experience all the same. My older brother is gay, and when he came out it was very hard for my parents at first. They've shaped up now of course and are totally on his side, but at the beginning, well, it wasn't very much fun. Not for either one of us, though naturally he suffered much more than me. I'm sorry to say I wasn't much use at first myself," "This is your way of making up for it then eh?" I ask teasingly. "Suppose," He says with a laugh. "I REALLY appreciate it--Simon does too." "I know, you've said. I don't mind really, I couldn't live with myself if I just let it happen. All those sleepless night would have been murder for my complexion, I'm really being quite selfish actually." "Right," I say with a cheerful snort. "Anyway thanks again," "I'll be going to McDougal first thing tomorrow mornin." "Do, well, be careful and everything." "Don't worry about it, if necessary James will protect me--he's a rugger champion." "Not a sports fanatic! Build like a brick wall?" "Something like that--but he's a real kitten on the inside, and you should see his eye lashes--OUCH!" There are more noises of pain and protest and I get the impression kitten-like James is getting his own back on Rudy. Eventually over the din I hear, "Geddoff me sod," and the sounds of James thumbing away. "Sorry bout that." He says brightly after another minute, which was probably spent getting his breath back. "It definitely sounded like you were the sorry one," I joke. "Very funny! Anything you can't do?" "Nope! I'm perfect in every way--rich, beautiful, intelligent, funny..." "Taken," He says with artificial mournfulness. At least I assume it was artificial. "Anything run in the family you want to tell me about?" I say keeping it light. "Yep," I gasp a little. He laughs. "We've both got a mad obsession with the show "Roswell", other than that nothing comes to mind!" I'm becoming quite fond of this guy. And he reminds me of someone else I'm quite fond of. "Okay, well that's good I guess," "Of course you can really never know about these things," I decide not to take the bait and opt instead for thanking him one more time, wishing him luck, and saying goodnight. ____________ Mum stays with me that morning and we eat a rare breakfast together, a downside to her pushing my dad back to the old normal routine being that she has to go along for the ride and as a result we don't see each other very much. Somehow her nervousness calms me instead of making me feel worse. Perhaps because of how loved it makes me feel to see her so distraught about something in my life. Dad'd left early for work as usual but despite the opportunity we don't talk much. Not beyond your standard breakfast talk anyway. She hugs me goodbye though, which is a bit out of the ordinary but I have to say I much appreciated the gesture. The ride to school takes me about as long as it normally does, but I must have used up like twice the normal amount of petrol due to my erratic periods of high speed which would be inevitably followed by `slow down idiot' intervals before I would speed up again. Nothing and no one seems out of place as I walk up the school steps and enter the building. There's not a single hint of any disturbance. A group of the preps are standing together near my locker, talking together--but that's not exactly a rare occurrence. Happens about I dunno... everyday. But could those be a few familiar faces I see missing? I walk closer and my heart starts to beat a little faster, no Drew, no Tommy Chad, a few of his other higher up flunkies are also not present. Almost unbelievably, most best of all, there stands Rudy, talking easily with the others. I join the group. "All right Rudy?" I ask with a grin. He smiles casually. "Hullo Elliot," Before more can be said I see something that makes me want to wail. Tommy is running up to us, looking furious and scared at the same time. But at least he's alone. "You won't believe what I've just heard," He pants. Everyone turns to look at him, I bet the git's delighted at all the attention. "We won't eh? Well lets here it then," Rudy has without a hint of fear or nervousness. Perhaps there are some actors in his family as well? "Drew's been expelled!" A shocked silence cloaks the group. "What?" A girl whose name is Maridy--I think, asks. "Really, expelled, and he's not the only one." He lists a few other names, all the people I expected to see go, except for the fact that Tommy himself is still here. "Whatever for?" The same girl speaks up again. The boys present who were in on Drew's plans look at one another nervously. "Er, who knows really?" One of them says quickly. "It had something to do with the punks I'd wager--you know them Maridy," So I was right! "Always causing trouble." Maridy, along with the rest of the girls, seems ready enough to believe this vague explanation. The bell rings and the group breaks up as we all head to our morning sets. Though I can only hardly believe it the day is passing and no one is killing us. The fight seems well and truly knocked out of them. Over the day bits of information about Drew and the others who got expelled get filtered through to us, word being they're likely to all be sent off for a stint in juvenile detention, with the possibility of something even more severe for Drew. In the end it's a delight to have Tommy Chad still around--because he's so miserable. All his favorite people to suck up to are gone. Even better, those left have been treating him with a kind of contained disgust. General consensus being he had probably offered information about Drew and the others to save himself. Quiet conversations of speculation about the initial narks identity--because everyone agreed Tommy was too spineless to ever do such a thing--are everywhere, but thankfully I've yet to hear Rudy's name come up. A heavy sense of mystery surrounded the details and circumstances leading to t he expulsions (none of the remaining preps were talking) and so in the place of truth and fact wild rumors took hold. Most of them were so outrageous they were laughable--especially the ones coming from the 1st and 2nd years--people who didn't even KNOW Drew and his lackey's. By the day's last lesson I'm starting to let myself feel--very cautiously--hope that it might really all be over. By the time I'm at my locker I'm already starting to think about talking to my mum out of her plan. After all, why go to all that bother, really? Why stir up trouble? He didn't suspect a thing--wasn't it best to just keep it that way? Stacy's hand on my shoulder distracts me from my thoughts. "Hullo Stace," I say recovering from my surprise and trying to look pleased to see her. Not that I'm not--just, she's supposed to my girlfriend--best to appear REALLY pleased right? "Lo Elliot,' she leans in and gives me a peck, very much like one you'd apply to your great aunt on request. I roll my eyes. "Your passion drives me mad with desire." I drawl sarcastically. She gives me a vicious kick in the ankle. "Try to be a little more grateful would you?!" She snaps shrilly. I'm taken aback. "Okay. Jeez. Sorry." Her expression returns to normal. "No, I'm the one who's sorry." She glances at my ankle. "Does that hurt?" I smile. "Not really." I fake a few `brave face on' winces so she'll know I mean it. "Something wrong?" When was the last time someone bothered to ask her that I wonder watching the surprise on her face getting pushed away. "No, I'm fine. This mess certainly seems to have sorted itself out--thank-God. Everything is perfectly fine." But she doesn't mean it--even to a stupid prat like me it's fairly obvious. I put an arm around her shoulders--dead convenient this dating thing can be sometimes. "Stace how many billions of time have you listened to my problems--and everyone else's? Give yourself a break. I might be pretty crappy at it but if you tell me what's wrong I can at least TRY to help." She laughs in a hiccupy, holding back the tears kind of way. "Alright--if you want to be so nice around it. It's Kevin," I stare at her for a few seconds. "What? You two aren't splitting up are you?" I'm worried--worried for my friends but also worried for myself, thinking that if they are, if might very well be my fault. Then she actually smiles at me. "No. It's not that. Not that at all." We're out of the school and at my car. "Want to go for a ride round while we talk?" She nods. "Yeah, sure." Once we're driving I let my mind go back to what she's said. "So what's the matter then--if you're not breaking up. Just a fight or something? Did he say something awful to you?" That gets me a laugh. "Wrong again. You really aren't very good at this are you?" I frown pretending to be deeply hurt. "Mean. That's what you are." She pats my hand as I reach over to shift. "Perhaps I should just tell you since we'll never get anywhere if you keep guessing." "Not going to dignify that with a response I'm not." She chuckles again. "You're cheering me up anyway." Inwardly I cheer and do a victory dance. "The problem has to do with Kevin himself really. That's the key when you get right down to it. He won't let people in. Oh sure--he loves helping everyone else--giving everybody else advice but when you try to give it back he won't respond. Evan just keeps getting worse and worse and I KNOW it's killing him but he won't let me in." I look quickly at her and am alarmed to discover she's started crying. "Elliot I love him and he won't let me in!" I park the car. I unbuckle my seat best. And I embrace my sobbing friend. Once again I'm reminded that I'm not the only one with problems. Not the only one who might be hurting over something. This time though I try not to see myself as too much of a failure--instead trying to concentrate on helping Stacy and maybe in turn--Kevin. I wait patiently as she quiets down before letting go. Stace never wears make-up so there's no running mascara to rub off her cheeks but I do gently push her messy hair back behind her ears. "It's going to be okay," I hear myself saying in a surprisingly confident and calm voice. "I mean look at me and Simon! By all accounts seemingly doomed from the beginning--with all the other obvious stuff me a royal fuck-up, and we're still together! Stace, you know me. You know what I'm like--what I'm hoping I'm starting to USED to be like. How down on myself I always was. I held all of you at a distance and I even tried that on Simon in a way at first. Everyone's got ways of trying to protect themselves and dealing with hurt. D'you know how many times I've done stuff that could have pushed Simon away--how many times I've TRIED to push him away? All he ever did was keep right on loving me--keep on telling that he loved me and wasn't about to go anywhere. He didn't let me get away with it don't you see? I guess he just wore me down or something. Cause I honestly don't find myself acting or thinking like that so much anymore. I've still got ages to go but at least I know he'll stick with me and wait it out. That's what you've got to do with Kevin--wait him out. Love him, be there for him. You can't force him to confide in you or let you help him but if you stay with him and keep letting him know that as soon as he's ready you're THERE eventually you'll wear him out too." She's looking at me--dry-eyed, an extremely startled expression on her face. A smile is creeping onto her lips. "He really has changed you hasn't he?" She asks with unmasked marvel in her voice. I feel my cheeks getting hot. "Does that mean the same thing as `you've really made me feel better thanks Elliot'?" She grins and gives me a quick hug. "Yeah, it pretty much does El. Thank-you sweetie." "Hey," I say holding up a warning finger. "Cut out that sweetie stuff when we're not at school. I've got a husband now." She gets a thoughtful look in her eyes. "How does that work for you guys? I mean I've heard you say something like that a few times now and Simon does the same but when did it happen? Did you just decide together one day that you were for life or is it all kind of spontaneous? Sometimes it sounds like you're just joking around but other times you sound really serious. Do you really think of yourselves as `husbands'?" I nod. "We totally do. We're both committed to each other, I think we always were though. Part of me was definitely already in love with Simon before we ever spoke and he's said he felt the same--which is probably part of why it happened so easily for us at the beginning. I really do think we were destined to be together. Honestly. Even though I know that sounds corny or unbelievable or whatever. From the start being with Simon just felt RIGHT. And there's been shit going down all around us pretty much from the start too. But despite all that when I'm with Simon I KNOW everything's gonna be okay. Cause nothing kicks ass like love. Nothing else matters. I really do think, that if you've got love--and friendship--you can stand up to anything. And beat it. It really CAN conquer anything. Not a whole lot of people believe that anymore but I honestly do no matter how it sounds. There's a lot of people--gay and straight--that don't think monogamy can work. They say it's not natu ral--only ever having one mate. Or they say that it's boring and restrictive. For me promising my life to Simon was like being set free. Cause with him at my side I feel like I can do anything. When we thought my parents were going to send me away--in what could have been our darkest hour, but instead of giving up hope, instead of thinking it was over, we pledged ourselves to the other. It was like our line in the sand. Outside forces where crashing down on us but we decided to make our stand together that night. Simon is my husband in absolute, utter seriousness. I will love him until the day I die and longer if there's any of me left after I'm gone. I may only be 16 years old but I KNOW he's all I'll ever want." Now she's REALLY staring at me. She blinks a few times before returning to something resembling normal. I smile, feeling slightly embarrassed. She shakes her head. "That was quite a speech." My cheeks go from hot to on fire. "Yeah well." "Don't misunderstand, it was amazing. You really," she smiles, "you really touched me Elliot. The love you have for him--it's a beautiful thing." I can't look at her. "It's just how I feel." She laughs. "Well I think it's incredible. I sure hope HE knows how you feel,' Her tone lets me know she was kidding but I decide to answer anyway. "Oh he does--but later I think I might just remind him anyway." She raises her eyebrows at me but instead of saying anything thing more I throw the car into gear, pull out of my parking spot and drive us fast down the street. She smiles knowingly but doesn't say anything else either. Later, at home, while dad's well distracted by mum, I call Simon. There's no answer. I hang up feeling only vaguely worried. The kind of doubts and fears I'm famous for start to ebb up but I don't let myself go there. He's fine--he just has to be. And his mum's probably just at work. I keep myself distracted for several hours, until even though it's very late, I ring again. Carol answers. "Is Simon home?" I ask trying not to sound too abrupt. I can almost hear the smile in her voice when she replies saying she'll get him for me. It takes a few seconds. "Hello?" His voice sounds extremely tired but also un-upset. "This is Elliot," I say confused by his voice. All I can hear on the other end is his ragged breath, as if he's been running and has a lot of catching up to do. "Simon?" I'm sure he could hear the worry in my voice. "What? I'm fine, you sound all worried? What's wrong? Did something happen--I thought everything at school went pretty well." He's still sounding mildly out of breath but much more normal that he did originally. I kick myself for getting him all worked up. "It did, and there's nothing wrong with ME. It's just I called earlier and you weren't home and you sound really sketchy, out of breath." He laughs, but not for very long. "Yeah guess I am. It's nothing El. I went out tonight." I'm an idiot really, I mean, it would never occur to me that he doesn't spend every night we're not together at home twiddling his thumbs. "Oh. Er, what'd you do?" There's an uneasy pause. Could have just been me though. "Just clubbing. I've been feeling really um--stressed. You know, too much bottled up tension. I figured I'd slam it out of myself a bit. I'm sorry I missed your call and made you worry and everything." "Don't apologize--honestly! I'm the idiot. You certainly don't have to stay at home all the time just on the outside chance I might call you. I'm happy as long as you're okay, which you obviously are. Besides--I really HAVE gotten better. I didn't worry half as much as I would have before. But anyway. Did it help? Work out some of the stress out? Feeling better?" I can hear him sigh happily. "I feel brilliant, thanks." Much of the response I was expecting. I have no trouble believing that the thing Simon loves most in the world is me--but that doesn't blind me to the fact that dancing--and that incredible rush he gets from it--is and will always be a close second. Despite all the changes we've both gone through since we got together some things from the lives we had before have remained. I'm certain he's toned himself down considerably but Simon's still a punk. That can mean a lot more than just the kind of music you listen to or how you dress. Since I've known him I've learned that means something different than what I originally thought. Or maybe it was Rob who really taught me that, or both of them together. With all the other stuff that they are and inspite of all the trappings of the `punk lifestyle', when you get past all the posers, the thing that probably draws them to it in the first place is that feeling of being different. It's not like they wer e all BORN with Mohawks and chains. But that punk scene, fueled with rebellion against everything else accepted and mainstream, the rejection of it, it's that which draws them. The music is part of it, the clothes are part of it, but what I'm really starting to understand is that SEPERATION may be the biggest part of it. BS (before Simon) I was on the inside, looking in, but I felt trapped and confined by it. To be a punk in the real way, in the way that Simon is a punk and Rob is a punk, is to actually DO something about that. It's like a decision they've made to TAKE themselves out of the ordinary way of doing things. What I'd always wanted to do--Simon had already done. Looked around, saw some stuff he didn't like and said `screw that'. He's still like that. I've sometimes wondered if it bothers him--the way he's had to compromise since he's met me. Simon was an outsider amongst the outsiders. Now he's got me--and let's face it I'm a clinger--plus all my baggage wh ich includes a messed relationship with my parents and 3 pretty heavy duty friends. Not that I don't think he's happy--but what I guess it comes down to is he'll always need nights like this sometimes. Nights when he goes off alone and is allowed to just do his thing. Wild, strong, passionate and fiery. He still needs what only the energy from a mosh pit can give, that wild heady rush of anderline that leaves your heart pounding and your head spinning. It gives you this feeling of freedom like nothing else does. If I know how much it does for ME, how much I love the heat and massive JOLT you get from a mosh pit, from a club, I have to understand why Simon with everything he is, will always need it. Not all the time, but sometimes. I won't be able to domesticate that out of him and I'm not going to try. It's what he is--it's why I love him. "Hey El? You there?!" Oh jeez! Simon! "Crap you scared me. Cor, sorry about that. I went off there for a second." He laughs. "A second? More like 5 minutes mate!" He sounds amused rather than annoyed so I breathe easy. "That long? Sorry again." "Was it nice?" "Huh?" "Where you went," I smile. "Yeah it was, pretty um, educational." "Really, hmm, care to share?" "Maybe later--er some other time. I should probably go though, it's late." "Yeah okay. Can we hook up soon?" I think a minute. "Friday probably shouldn't be a problem, mum and dad have a cocktail party to attend. I'll make something up to appease the pack. Come over, we'll, um, see what happens." Your quintessential loaded pause. I swear I can hear him swallowing. "Okay then. I'll come over straight after school shall I?" "Better leave it until about seven. It's a hoof and they're planning to sleep in a hotel, and then straight back to work probably, you can stay the night if you like." Sure my hearts going about a million miles an hour--even though it feels silly since he's stayed the night plenty of times--but I'm able to hold it together outwardly and my voice (I hope) sounds calm. "Er, okay," Simon croaks. "See you then, uh, then." "Bye, good night, and I love you." He clears his throat. "Yep, me too, back at you all those things." The Punk In the morning, as I'm sitting in class I'm still going over the conversation with Elliot in my head. Did he really mean what I thought he meant? Why did it seem like that anyway, after all the other times one of us has stayed over at the others, after everything we've done, everything we've said joking or serious why had those few sentences back and forth seemed SO different. From the depths of my own thoughts I hear someone calling my name and half worried I'd stumbled into the wrong lesson--I snap back to attention. Rowan is waving his hand in front of my face repeating my name. "Eh, stop that." I say grumpily pushing his hand away. He's grinning at me impishly. "You were totally spaced out mate. What's going on? Were you thinking of me?" "Idiot," I say hitting him. "Spacecadet," he says hitting back. I glare at him good-naturedly. "That's what YOU'RE calling ME?" He laughs but doesn't reverse himself. "Gonna spill?" If I don't tell him he'll bug me all day. I sigh. "Yeah, at lunch." He pouts. "Oh stop that." He grins. "Whatever you say." At lunch sitting at what has pretty much become `our booth' Rowan raises his eyebrows and ogles suggestively at me. "We really do have to stop meeting like this you know," He says in a tone matching the look. I don't even bother to hit him and call him an idiot. I just roll my eyes. "D'you want me to explain or not?" Getting him to leave me alone was only half of the reason I agreed if I'm honest. I did it just as much out of the desire to talk to someone else other than myself about it. I've been driving myself slowly insane debating all this in my head. He loses the French Prostitute pose and smiles at me normally. Note: normal for Rowan. "What's up then?" I relate to him the ending of our conversation. He looks at me, down at his hands, back up at me, then back at him hands. "What?" I demand. He stops gazing at his folded hands and looks across to me. "I'm confused." He says shortly. "About what?" He screws up his face as if he's concentrating very hard. "Just what exactly about what you've just told me made you zone out for five minutes right at the start of the day?" "Well isn't it obvious? I think he might want to like--have sex!" Rowan's confused expression doesn't change. "So?" "So? So?! So we've never had sex before!" Well THAT gets a reaction at last. "Holy crap! You haven't?! You've been together for ages, I mean you even did that wedding thing. You really haven't, ever?" I shake my head. "Not with Elliot or anyone else. Why `ave you?" He laughs. "Hell no, you should know that, YOU were the first person I ever, um, well," there's a short but uncomfortable pause. "Anyway, I thought surely you and El would have by now." "Shocking or not we haven't. But the real point is I think we might Friday night." He gives me a long hard look. "Got it. You're scared." Embarrassed or not--it is ROWAN, so I nod. He shrugs. "I imagine that's quite natural. Only advice I've got: don't, erm, do it unless it feels right. Like don't let nervousness ruin your first time. It's not as if Elliot would pressure you to do anything you don't feel--jeez--up to. So why sweat it eh? Whatever happens, happens, just focus on having fun Friday night and relax." You see?! I knew there was a reason why I love this boy! I almost get up and give him a hug. Instead I settle for a mumbled `thanks mate'. He smiles. "No worries, just the same--if anything DOES happen--promise to tell me all about it?" My eyes bug out and my jaw drops. He laughs triumphantly and does the breathing on your finger nails/buffing them on your chest thing. "Still got it." This time I don't resist the urge. I sock him right in the shoulder. "Idiot." He's got one ready. "Virgin." I could hit him again, but I just laugh instead. Later that day, near the end of a lesson which I'd been finding considerably easier to listen to due mostly to lunch with Rowan, a guy, who I immediately recognize as the same one who warned me in the library, walks up to my desk. "What's up?" I ask casually. No one around is paying any attention and the teacher, Mr. Franz, is out of the room. "Do you know who went to McDougal?" I shrug. "Do you?" He laughs. "Yeah actually I do--problem is I'm not the only one." I raise my eyebrows. "You've got more information for me?" Before he can say anything Mr. Franz returns. "In your seat Mr. O'Conor." "Yes sir." As he went he dropped a folded piece of paper into my lap. Once Mr. Franz is busy at his desk I open the paper. Two words are written in pencil. Tommy Chad. I crumple the paper and shoot it viscously into the trash basket. It actually happens that Elliot's in this lesson with me, but I can hardly make any sort of go for his attention, nor is there much hope he's just `noticed' since we both have to be careful NOT to take notice of each other whenever we're in the same room. Tommy Chad's been Elliot's enemy number one for ages, though Elliot only told me recently it was because it had been Tommy who narked on us to his olds. I'm not sure what to do. There's always the hope that if he did tell anyone, no one would believe him. Rowan, Kevin and I had discussed Tommy after Elliot told me his reason for hating the wanker so much, and they'd both mentioned how little weight Tommy usually held with his fellow preps, that he was really more of a underling, only allowed to hang around cause of his father's money and influence. He'd probably enjoyed a short period of time as hero when Elliot first returned, but that's sure to have wo rn off by now. What better way than to blow the whistle on the whistle blower to get back in everyone's good graces? ____________ "Well that's not very cool," "No, it's definitely not." Rowan's lying on his back on my bedroom floor, I'm sitting on my bed and The Strokes are playing reasonably quietly from my cd player. "I say we just kill the fucker--no one would miss him." "There's a plan, really helpful Ro. Besides, I bet his mother would miss him." "Shit yeah, you're right--too bad. Oh well, any other ideas?" "Well he's a wimp right? So let's just scare him a little. Like you said most of his `friends' got expelled right?" "Right," "So basically he's all alone. And if we scare him enough before he's found a way to get some more big people to make him feel strong then we've got him." "Word is lots of people think he caved, you know, that when he thought they were all going to get busted he just sold everyone out to save his own pathetic arse--so that general dislike and mistrust would work in our favor. Should work, he is a TOTAL coward. I bet if you me and Kevin all shook him up a little bit he'd be scared enough to keep himself quiet." "Rob will want to help," Rowan chuckles evilly. "Fuckin right! Rob, ha! Rob on his own'd be enough to make Tommy shit himself." "Possible snag--how do we explain our motive for wanting to save Rudy?" "No problem, he's stupid. We can just tell him there's some punk moral code that says if someone helps you you've gotta help them back. Something like that. He'll buy anything if he's scared enough. But we've got to make sure there's no mention of Elliot, that's the kind of information he'd love to have. Have we ourselves a plan then?" I nod. "Suppose. If I didn't hate the piece of garbage so much already I'd be feeling a little guilty about this." Rowan sits up, and smiles. "Good thing you do then." ____________ "Gonna tell Elliot about it?" Rowan asks me later while we eat the casserole mum left in the oven. I shrug. "Not sure. If I do and then everything works out perfectly I'll have gotten him worried for nothing, but if I don't and he finds out--even if it all does work out he'll be pissed. What do you think I should do?" "Obvious. You have to tell him. Honesty. I hear it's quite important in relationships. Builds trust and all that. Besides, he's BOUND to find out. I mean, he might not know the circumstances, but if Tommy Chad shows up all ruffled and bloody I bet you anything Elliot'll be able to work out who did it." "You're probably right. But what if he gets really upset? I know he's taken very quickly to that Rudy bloke, and he's worried enough about endangering him as it is, what'll it do to him to have his fears confirmed?" Rowan shrugs. "Just because it may not be the most cheerful conversation you ever have with him doesn't mean you don't have to do it. Come on, you know I'm right." "Yeah well. When?" "Now if you like, it's only five, his olds won't be home yet." I ring. And so does the phone. For ages. I hang up. "Nobody home." Rowan shrugs again. "So he's out with the pack then, not surprising. They're probably trying to regroup." My eyes widen with worry but he laughs. "How many times have I told you mate? You take things WAY too seriously. `Things' most usually being ME. One of these days you've really got to learn how to pick up on a joke." I jump off my bed and attack him. In true soap opera style we end up with me pinning Rowan to the floor our faces inches apart, both of us breathing heavily. Our eyes lock and he winks, at the same time flipping me over and slamming my shoulder blades against the rug. He holds me for a few seconds before letting me go. I shoot him hurt expression. He grins. "Don't mess with me." "Bastard." He smiles fondly. "Slut." ____________ I try to ring Elliot again later that night, without luck, but I resolve to tell him about things the first chance I get. I hope he doesn't find out about it from someone else first but I figure even if that happens he can't get cross with me since it's not like I didn't try. ____________ The following morning I have the great luck of finding Rob in class. I catch his attention and he comes over, sitting with me. In a quiet conspiratorial tone I tell him all about Tommy Chad and at the end of my say ask, "Wanna help?" He grins sardonically. "Sure. It'll be my contribution to the war effort." That, no matter how light and comically spoken, reminds me of a real truth about the current attitude carried by many people at school. In many of their minds there is in fact a war on. It is a virtually leaderless and almost entirely unorganized war, but you can't miss the random skirmishes when they crop up. In the same way that Elliot has rejoined the Preps, I have been welcomed back into the ranks by the Punks. To the extent that a group of people not especially used to supporting anyone can the Punks have supported me. Affronted by Elliot's treatment of me, (which of course went to prove all their worst suspicions about the Preps) I have become yet another cause. Elliot and I are now probably more like Romeo and Julian than we have ever been as we are now in different ways, almost the Princes of our groups. Two prodigal sons. The Punks version of support most often comes in the form of fights with the Preps. The faculty still does little about this because to so me extent it has always been so but now, to those who watch, there is a focused energy and malice that wasn't present before. I feel all at once totally and not at all responsible for this. I can argue either that because it was my actions that set this off it IS my fault or that because I am not responsible for the actions of others nor am I to blame for stirring up what was already there, it is NOT my fault. Though in the end I don't suppose it really matters. What's been happening will continue to happen mostly because there are people who like and need it to and my behavior will hardly be anything special, more worthy or irregularly influential. I do my best to refocus myself to the situation at hand, as much for any other reason, because I don't need Rowan teasing me about zoning out again. It's lunch and we're plotting together, the 4 of us, Kevin seeming happiest of all to have been presented with a problem that can be solved with an action he finds himself adequately equipped to be capable of. "Best to do it now," Kevin (the general) decides. "There's no sense waiting around giving him lots of time to sit with his information and come up with ways to use it. We've definitely got to take care of this before he gets a chance to make more, um, friends." "We know," I say nodding. "Weak and alone is how we want him. But you guys, so we're clear, no ones doing any serious damage okay? We'll rough him up but no like broken bones or shit. The point is to scare him a lot more than hurt him." 3 nods of agreement. "Who talks?" Rowan asks gravely. Rob straightens himself up. "Better let me, reckon he's the most afraid of me eh?" Again we nod. We see just then Tommy Chad wonderfully, conveniently, leaving the school building, alone (!) probably on his way for a smoke. "Alright," I say. "Lets go." We follow him quietly and at the last minute before he turns off towards the smoking area Rowan and I grab him and sharply pull him along with us to where Kevin and Rob are waiting at a well enough hidden alcove a few meters away. He's breathing rapidly and his eyes are darting around in a panic. Rob grins savagely and oozes over, until he's standing by Tommy, leaning in only inches away from his face. "How are you Tom?" He asks with such a clam viciously assured voice I'm a little scared myself. Tommy only gulps loudly a few times and doesn't seem able to willing to speak. Rowan and I are still gripping his arms. "Answer the question Tom," Rob orders softly. His voice is almost gentle but its intimidating effect on Tommy is clear. He gulps again, even louder. "I'm fine," Rob nods. "Excellent. Let's see if we can keep it that way okay? There's this small problem you seem to have gotten yourself in the middle of here Tom and my friends and I are just trying to see if we can make that problem go away. So here's what's going on. A little while ago a bunch of YOUR friends were planning on doing something pretty nasty to me and my friends, and we didn't like that very much. But then, before we even had to worry about doing something about it someone stepped up. One of you Preppie losers actually decided to get some balls and stop them. Things were looking nice and settled and we were all ready to put it behind us, but Tom, Tommy you had to go and ruin that. Maybe you didn't mean to hear huh? Was it an accident? You just `happened' to be passing by and you saw something you shouldn't have. You didn't mean it to--it just happened. Now Tom if that's the case then there's no problem here at all, you won't tell anyone what you heard--hell you're going t o forget you even heard something in the fist place, and we can just let you go. Sound good? Can we let you go Tom, do we have your word you won't tell a soul? But you've gotta mean it if you promise remember Tom cause if we find out you didn't, and if you don't we WILL find out, then things could get REALLY unpleasant." Fuckin shaking. I bet you anything the shit's ready to piss his pants. But never underestimate the conniving powers of a highly spoiled brat used to getting what he wants. "They were never going to do anything to you--honestly!" He jerks his head in my direction. "Just the poofs, what do you care about them anyway? No one was ever going to go after you!" Rob sneers. "Sure, after the poofers, don't give me that shit Tom. I'm trying to be nice here, when we both know you and your friends would love to have it on me ANY day of the week, no matter who's a poof, just cause y'all think you're maybe a little better then me. I'm always a target preppie, this was just a special case when I happened to get to find out about it before hand." There's still a glimmer of something in Tommy's eyes, like he's got one more card to play. "What do you care about Rudy then? He's just another Prep like me, why should you want to help him?" The hatred with which Rob looked at Tommy was so intense I doubt there was really even a need for him to answer. "Listen to me, very carefully. I don't like it when people go after my friends. I especially don't like it when they plan to do it in a big gang when there isn't even fair odds. It's cowardly and it's exactly why I hate people like you. Cause you're just a waste of air really. You don't matter for anything. You think you're so hot, like you rule this shit school with your daddies money and you think that makes you special? It doesn't. Nobody hurts my friends, not you and not your pathetic friends. Now you want to go after someone who put his neck out for my friends. I've got no special warm feelings for Baker, he's probably just the same shit, just got scared maybe, but that doesn't really matter to me right now. He helped us out and this is payback. After this I owe him nothing, which is how I like it. But I will continue to watch out for him, all of us will. Think about this one final thing when making your decision Tom, there are more of us then are of you." His voice is ice, then he smiles. "Kay?" I can feel Tom shaking hard underneath my hand, so much that my hand is vibrating. "Fine, I'm not going to tell anyone alright. Fuck! Just let me go." Rowan and I look at Rob and he nods. We release Tommy's arms, Rob gives him what under other circumstances could have been considered a friendly cuff, and he bolts away from us. Kevin, who had been standing farthest away and was therefore least affected by the intensity of what went down is able to speak first. "I am so fuckin glad you're not my enemy mate," He tells Rob shakily. Rowan and I nod. Rob smiles, but looks himself quite white. "I'm not usually like that. I mean, I don't think I am. But that prick deserved what he got. All he ever does is screw with other peoples lives. I just had to make sure he wasn't going to do it to us again." I put my arm around his shoulders, and feel that he's shaking himself. "Well you certainly did that. You were totally amazing, you were scaring me except I know you better than that. It's a good thing he bought it, cause I KNOW you weren't about to make good on your claims. Don't worry about it. None of us thought you rode him too hard, you were right, he deserved it. Mate, cause of you we barely had to lay a hand on him, you kicked ass." He looks at me gratefully. "Thanks." Rowan comes in between us, grinning. "I wanna join the love fest." He says in a pout. Laughing, we both shove him away. He ends up knocking into Kevin, who, surprising all of us but especially Rowan, grabs him in a bear hug and kisses him on cheek. "C'mon baby," Kevin says in a sugary sweet voice. "We can have our own love fest." The tension broken, we all collapse into hysterics, laughing and shouting at each other in the afternoon sun. ____________ That afternoon I ring Elliot right after I get home from school when his parents shouldn't be home. Not that I'm all that certain he will be. He answers half-way through the first ring. "So what's up with Tommy?" He says before I can even get out a hello. "Shit! I mean jeez! How'd you know about that already?" "What--Simon?" "Yeah, who did you think it was?" "Just Rudy. But I like you better. What's up?" When he picked up he'd sounded tense and anxious but now his voice is buoyant. "Well actually it has to do with Tommy Chad. What do you know? Why were you expecting Rudy?" "After lunch Tommy was acting real shaken up and scared," I can't help but smile, "and we were thinking maybe some of the guys messed him up for turning on Drew and co. How do YOU know about it?" "I know cause I did it. We did it. Rowan, Rob, Kevin and me." "What?" He gasps. "Why? I mean just cause he told his parents? What if he tries to get you back? Simon! That was really stu--" "Hey! El, clam down. We're not going to get in trouble and he's not going to come after us. He's totally afraid of us, especially Rob and he's way too wimpy to try anything." "But why'd you do it? He's a total prick, but not really worth the trouble you know?" "Look, remember that the problem's already been solved before you go pushing the panic button when you hear this okay?" "Uh, okay," He agrees warily. "Tommy knows Rudy was the one who went to McDougal--" "What?!" "Elliot," "Sorry." "He overheard something or saw something or I don't know what but he found out. But like I said, don't worry. We sorted that out. We own the shit. And so long as he leaves all of us, including Rudy, alone he knows he's safe. He's not going to tell anyone." "I guess that's good. And there's always James if someone else DOES find out." Who? "James?" "Oh! I forgot you don't know about him. James is Rudy's older brother. Rugger Champaign, an ox." Rudy Baker's pretty small. "You've seen him?" "Yeah," Elliot says absently. "When I was over there late nite--did you try to call?" "Yeah, I wanted to tell you before the fact." "That's probably why you missed me then. I wasn't home until nearly 11. They're both great fun." "Who?" He sighs humoringly. "Rudy and James." "Oh," For the first time I know what he must feel about my friendship with Rowan. Mainly I'm glad, happy that he has friends to just hang out with and it isn't that I'm feeling threatened, and certainly not jealous, just more like kinda sad it wasn't, couldn't, have been me he was having fun with. "Anyway, how'd you find out?" "About Tommy?" "Naturally yeah." "One of those militant gay blokes warned me about it," "They're dead helpful aren't they," "Too right. We owe them a lot." "And Stacy as well for telling us about them or them about us, whichever it was." "We should throw them all a party the end of term," I joke. "Yeah! And Rob and Kevin and Rowan can come, Rudy too, we could have a banner, "Thanks For Helping Us Survive Fifth Year", it'd be brilliant. We should really do it," "Or not," He laughs. "Or not. Simon, you silly boy, what's going on here?" "Huh?" "What are we doing on the phone?! My parents are out till eight and as nice as talking is seeing is better. Can I come over? It's a bit safer in case they come home early--not that that'll happen." "Absolutely come over. I wasn't sure I'd see you until Friday. This is definitely better. Come right now," "You have tell me all about what happened with Tommy," He says gleefully. "Nasty one aren't you?" He smacks his lips together loudly. "Why else would you love me?" He asks briskly. "I'm hanging up now, see you in minutes my love," "Bye" The dial tone answers me. Elliot is already off. In what seems like no time at all he's rushing through my door plastering me with kisses which I respond to immediately even though there's a very good chance my mum is starring at us. My suspicions are confirmed when I hear a stifled chuckle coming from behind my back. I reluctantly let Elliot go so I can turn and scowl at her. Elliot, refusing to be embarrassed, or at least show it, grabs my hand and smiles at her innocently. "Staying for dinner?" She asks him in a light, everyday tone. He nods. "I think I might," he looks over at me, hungrily. I go red. They both have a nice laugh at my expense. "Don't," I whine when he refuses to break his gaze. He smiles, surrendering. "But yes I think I will stay, in fact," he glances back at me again, apparently making up his mind about something. "Can I use your phone? If Stacy's home I'll get her to cover for me with the pack and my parents and I can stay till like 10," He shrugs. "If you'll have me of course," Before mum can reply I rope my arms around his waist, pulling him close. It's almost better mum being there, just knowing she doesn't mind. "Of course we'll have you. You'll be lucky if I let you leave at all," deciding to let us continue the moment in private mum quietly leaves the hall, shutting the door of the room she entered behind her. I kiss his neck and Elliot shivers against me. "Upstairs," he half groans and without another word we race up the stairs to my room. An hour later exhausted on my bed Elliot laughs. "What?" I ask. "It's just a bit strange, I mean. We didn't even DO anything but I'm completely happy and completely knackered." "I know. I'm so comfortable with you and I feel so much a part of you, but at the same time I know we have this whole other level to reach." "What do you think about that?" "Hmm?" I'm feeling suddenly very mellow again, having slipped back into half-sleep during the few minutes that passed before he spoke. "That we haven't gotten there yet, and I guess what you think about going there," "I don't know. We could keep doing what we do now forever and I'd be happy. But I'm curious too, I think that's the word. I want to see if it could really be possible for me to feel even closer to you." He strokes my face. "I can't imagine loving you any more than I already do," "Me too, still, I have to say not everything I feel for you is pure and righteous love," He laughs. "I feel like I should be SO embarrassed to be talking about this kind of thing except I'm not," He takes a deep breath, as if summoning the strength to be blunt. "Simon, I want to have sex with you, I want to... give myself to you in that way." I shift so I'm looking into his eyes. They are open to me in a way they've only ever been a few other times before. There's something so overwhelming about seeing him look like this, so open, so yielding, I can almost feel myself dissolving. But now the rules are changing, even before Elliot became mine I had feelings and desires like the ones I'm experiencing now, ones that pushed themselves against my skin and finger tips trying to force me into action, wishes for things I couldn't allow myself to try for. It's all inside me, has been for years, building up, a force I now am not required to control. Bits of it though I have still been containing because it's so STRONG with Elliot that it's almost scary. I've always felt I had to keep it inside myself, or it would consume us both. But now I have this invitation, and this opportunity. Elliot's face is utterly relaxed and peaceful. I kiss his lips. "We can't though, not now," I whisper, he reaches up and kisses me with a strange new ferocity. "I don't want to plan it out Simon, and I think it should only happen just when it feels most right, but now I've said what I've said. I'm ready Simon, there's nothing I want or need to hold back from you anymore. I know you've been waiting for me to be ready and I am," I begin to say something but his finger on my lips silences me. "I know it must have been difficult sometimes, and Simon, I'm very sorry if you thought I was holding back somehow because I didn't trust you completely or love you that much, except I don't think you would ever even think something like that." He sighs. "I'm not sure I'm making any sense here. Simon, you know that this had nothing to do with how much I love you don't you? I'm not sure what it is, I can feel it but I can't describe what's changed," He looks at me face, as if hoping to find the answer there. "You have been waiting for something though haven't you? What is it? You knew didn't you, that it didn't have anything to do with yo u?" He seems anxious, desperate even, to get that point across. I smile. "Yes I knew. Don't worry. I always knew," "So what is it then? I mean, why don't I know what's going on in my own head?" He's half smiling half honestly frustrated by his bewilderment. I try to find a way to express what I've always just known about him. "It's just that you needed to love yourself enough. That's it I think Elliot. You needed to be able to trust yourself enough, and be secure enough to be able to, well, ask I guess. Say what you've said now. You've had that for a while now, but maybe you've only just realized it." He's looking rather amazed. "Wow," I laugh. "What?" He shrugs with a teasing smile. "Nothing, just wow. You're fantastic, that's all." "And you?" He grins. "I'm not too bad myself," I kiss him. "That's my boy." "Tell me about Tommy," he orders after dinner, back in my room. I breathe in the smell of his hair, and feel myself starting to get dizzy. "You want to talk about Tommy Chad?" I murmur, nuzzling his neck. He giggles. "Yeah," I move my hands down lower on his stomach and he lets out an unintentional moan. He places his arms over mine, gripping my hands. "Still?" He lets go and turns to me, a small smile lighting up his face. "No," Okay, before I say anything else, my mum had already left for work. She had the night shift again that month. So, let's just make sure we have that straight okay. No, not with my own mother in the house. And now for the other thing, I'm not going to describe it for you. I'm not. Too bad. Use your imagination or something. Look, even if I wanted to, even if it wasn't private and none of anyone else's business but Elliot's and mine, nothing I'd ever be able to come up with, no pretty words I could ever hope to string together would allow me to make you understand what it was like for us. It was one of the most beautiful and amazing things that's ever happened to me but really that had nothing to do with our `sexual prowess' or ability or anything. It was perfect because it was a way for us to further express our love and surrender to each other. And the power that was in that event has nothing to do with who did what or to whom it was done. We let our love guide us and gave ourselves up to everything we'd always restrained ourselves against. I had been right thinking it would consume us. We allowed ourselves to put our total trust and affection for each other into practice and we let ourselves be joined in a new and phenomenal way. I'd never be able to feel anything close to that amazing with anyone else because I'll never be able to love anyone else like I love Elliot. And that's all I'm gonna say. I'm sorry if you're disappointed, but it's all you're getting. Oh, I'll say this, I can't wait to do it again. "Until Friday then?" At my door, both of us crazy shy, wanting to never stop looking but at the same time worried the blush and amazement would show if our eyes were to meet. I know it's how he's feeling, not just cause it's what I'm feeling but because I feel like now I'm just going to KNOW some things, not everything, but I know now that it WAS possible for us to get even closer. "I swear, I'm not going to be able to help blushing when I see you in the halls," I laugh. "I know! And what if people notice us giggling at nothing and acting like giddy sods? I'm positive Rowan's going to be able to tell the second he sees me," He nods. "Stacy as well." He smiles. "Not that I'm sorry," I kiss him, which is still about the most wonderful thing in the world, despite how much I've realized I can love the other stuff. "Does it scare you?" I'm actually brave enough to ask something like that now, not just think it. He understands what I mean. "Yes, in a way. You're even more a part of me now, so much that I'm not sure I can bear to be away from you, not even for a second. I feel like if I walk out the door it'll be like ripping out my heart." He shakes his head. "Did you even notice?" Then I do. That we were still all over each other. My hands on his hips, his on my neck. How had it been possible to have looked at him and have that not register? It had simply become too natural, we were now extensions of each other the same way my fingers are an extension of my own hands. Sometimes acutely aware, other times nearly oblivious. I clutch him to me, and in seconds 15 minutes has passed. "You have go," I say feeling like crying, seeing, despite my wishes that I wasn't, that it's already past 10. Elliot cries without hesitation. "Maybe we could," His crying stops him for a moment. "Oh Simon I'm sorry," Not crying now, sobbing. "What? Why?" There's something wrong, somethings happened, some wall has gone up, and I can't feel what he's thinking anymore. He won't let me hold him either. He stands away from me, refusing to be comforted, until he gets control back on his own. "Tell me, Elliot? Please?" "I was so sure there was no more room inside me to love anything else, I was so sure every inch of love I was capable of was already spent on you, but Simon, what I'm feeling now is beyond even that, and that means I've betrayed you," "No it doesn't, what are you talking about?" "Well I promised that I loved you completely, but now if I love you even more than I did when I said that it means it was a lie," I force him to let himself be held. I step back a small baby step, so we can see all of each other. "You've got it wrong, baby, don't you see? That love was there all along, and it was never going to be for anyone but me, but you just didn't realize it was there. I'm feeling exactly like you are, like I've been opened up to a whole new PLAINE of loving, but that's only because the experience we shared let us see it. It was always there, but we just haven't been able to FEEL it until now. Understand?" He's wide eyed again. I'm never quite sure what to do under that look. Sometimes I make a joke, or kiss him, or just smile. This time I do nothing, I wait for him. He closes the small gap between us. His arms stay at his waist. His eyes command mine to meet them. He DRIVES his love into me, and it's more intense that anything else I've ever experienced. I almost fall over, faint, something like that. Just then he puts his arms around me. I don't need him to talk, that bond is back, stronger now, even than before. It's almost as if I can hear his voice all around us. Simple words. Thank you, I love you and I think too, that he can hear me thinking them. But I have to break the moment. "If we can find a way, maybe we can meet at lunch," With a look of deep sadness he shakes his head. "I'd never be able to get away, but maybe space doesn't have anything to do with it. Simon, I'm going to keep this feeling locked in my heart until we can be together again, and then I'm going to let it out into you. Promise me you'll do the same?" I nod. "Good night my love," We kiss reverently. "Sweet dreams." The next day at school. "Damn," I knew he'd know. I've never blushed so deeply in my life. I force myself to look into his eyes. They are sparkling. "You're glowing," He accuses. I shrug. "So?" He nods. "Exactly. So what. Incredible mate, it must have been out of this world. You weren't scared then?" He's asking cause he loves me, cause he needs to know nothing hampered anything, not even for the slightest moment. I smile. "No, I was lost. It was the right time." Don't get upset, I'm not giving him details either. Not that he'd ask. He hugs me, in school. We get an extra couple glances. He grins. "Should French ya, that'd shake em up. But you'd probably deck me," I smile. "No, I'd kiss you back. It doesn't matter if you're kissing a brother," My saying this makes him so happy I think Rowan's nearly in tears. "You're my best friend," I nod, understanding him perfectly. "Love you too mate," The Preppie I'm not a whole new person, not exactly. I'm not really myself anymore at all. For those few hours with Simon it was as if not even our skin was separating us. Simon has been woven into my being. Alone, he's with me like he's never been. He's my shield. I floated past my parents, my mum's slightly confused smile, my dad's customary half-nod and wink--customary to whenever I'm supposedly returning from Stacy's. It felt like I was asleep even before my head hit the pillow. I dreamt of Simon, and I know he dreamt of me. In first set, when she sees me, Stacy knows. But she doesn't say anything, she only smiles radiantly and kisses my cheek. At lunch the packs talk passes over me like little more than the hum of a radiator. I only speak when Stacy or Rudy kicks me under the table. Mostly this just reminds me more of Simon. Not that everything isn't in some way reminding me of him. Someone flicks me in the ear during the second lesson of the afternoon. "None of that mate," Rudy. "What're you talking about?" I say grumpily rubbing my ear. He rolls his eyes. But I've honestly no idea what I've done. He notices my genuine confusion and it confuses him. "Well you were starring right at Simon, with this way dreamy look on your face. You're lucky I'm the only one who noticed. You mean you really didn't realize what you were doing?" I shrug. "Guess not, er, thanks I guess." He laughs a little. "Don't worry about it." On Friday, I'm not nervous like I expected to be, but excited. Incredibly, almost painfully, excited. To see Simon. Who I now think of at the best part of my own self. Missing him, needing to see him, has been building up inside me more with every passing minute and I feel more than a little ready to burst. Without knowing the reason for it Rudy and Stacy pick up on my mood. Stacy tries to get me to calm down. She tells me to stop shaking my leg, drumming my fingers. It only makes me notice I was doing it. I stop, but then start up again. "Albuquerque," Rudy whispers to me. Class has already started and we're supposed to be working. I only sort of am. "What?" I whisper back. He repeats himself. I snort softly. "I HEARD you, what did you say it for?" "The Alphabet game," "Huh?" "You know, you go down the Alphabet using different places? I say mine and then you have to pick a place starting with the last letter of my place and so on." I stare at him, with exaggerated blankness. "And yet I still don't understand WHY you decided to turn to me in Chemistry and say, `Albuquerque'." He laughs. "Albuquerque." I roll my eyes, smiling despite myself, finally realizing what he's up to. Which is of course, if you're slow, trying to distract me. "Easter Island." And so Rudy and the Alphabet game keeps me busy all day. By noon we've become insanely competitive, plotting hard countries and rivers, hoping to stomp the other. Shouting stuff like `that's made up!' and `used that one already!' is far from uncommon. By the end of the school day on one will speak to us unless maybe it's to say `you're mad, both of you' or to tell us to shut up already whatever we're on about. Stacy even only just barely keeps from getting annoyed with us. But I hardly care. The days over after all, and Rudy's definitely my friend now, just as good. Rudy chills with me after school, though due to the continuation of the raging Alphabet game battle, it's hardly relaxed. As they rush around the house, getting dressed and talking to people on other Continents with their cell phones, both of my parents stop by separately to repeat the same advice (not that I'm not like USED to being alone in the house by now or anything). Then it's back a second time, realizing Rudy had been there, to welcome him, until they're finally out the door at 6:30, which is not bad, only 45 minutes after they were supposed to leave. Rudy leaves shortly there after himself and then it's me all alone in the house, waiting. He rings the bell, and even though I already knew he was coming cause I'd watched him going up the walk, my heart skips a beat. I pull open the door shakily but the second he's in sight, REAL sight, I'm completely calm. Totally serene, centered, whole again. We're in each other arms, but I swear I don't remember taking a step, or seeing him take one. It was as if the world moved so we'd be together because that's just how it's supposed to be. Almost like it's a law of nature or motion now. We must have stood there for like, half an hour, just drinking each other in, gently and lovingly holding each other. Not speaking at all. Communicating in other ways. Then slowly but at exactly the same time we separate a bit, but are still attached. We can't ever actually let go of each other. My hands slide down his arms and I take his hands. We turn and walk towards the stairs. It's the most beautiful dream I've ever had except of course that it's real. I compare it to a dream not just because it feels far too exquisite and beyond reality to be anything else, but also because it's so wonderfully... not `planned', but it feels as if what we should do has already been decided and mapped out for us. I feel myself doing things without thinking about them or worrying about them. It all just happens, both of us participating but somehow also observing all at the same time. There were never any walls of shyness between us, but now we have familiarity as well. My favorite part might very well be just the memorizing of him, all of him now, not just face and shape, but whole self. Making it all a part of me, making myself a part of Simon as he also explores me. We could talk or even laugh, but I think silence is better. With no words there becomes a heightened connection as we push ourselves to understand looks, body movements, breaths and sighs. It' s slow and dreamy yet a sense of urgency is mingled with that. I'm lying in my bed, still semi-joined with Simon, who is asleep, wondering why it doesn't seem the slightest bit strange, how quickly I've gotten completely comfortable and used to having Simon's naked skin against my own, when the phone rings. For a minute I'm so amused that it thinks it can just ring at a time like this, interrupting a moment like this one, that I don't even answer, even though I think it could be my parents. But then Simon, still half-asleep, sort of moans and pushes against me as if entreating me to make the noise stop, so I grab the mobile on my desk and answer. "Yeah?" "I know about you," "What?" Calm, even cheerful, still so relaxed and content, still so close to Simon. "Simon, you're still with him. I saw you." It's so wrong. So wrong that I had been feeling so perfectly wonderful only to have something like this force itself into such a moment, defiling it. "That's not--" I begin much too feebly. "Don't lie--I saw you. Who do you think you are anyway? He suffers while you snob off with you rich friends acting like you're better than everyone else. What makes you so special, eh? What right do you have? What do you say to him, huh, that makes him put up with it? Feed him some sob story lies about your parents or something? Or that you just couldn't handle the harassment anymore? Do you abuse him, tell him no else would ever love him?" I've gone numb sort of, under this assault, which is not done apparently. "He's too good for you, the way you treat him. Think about that." I'm almost in tears, cause he's right, at least partly, whoever this is. "What's going on?" Simon mumbles, mostly awake now. He looks at me, tears now in my eyes, face shocked like I've been slapped. He grabs the phone from me. "Who the fuck is this?" I don't want or need to listen, I realize, as soon as he says this. Because Simon will sort it out, and make it better. And then everything will be fine again. After a few angry minutes he hangs up looking frustrated and bewildered. "So what'd he say?" He shrugs, face still upset looking. "I don't know, probably most of the same stuff he said to you." "Did you figure out who it was? Face, name?" "No, I couldn't place the voice and he never said his name. I think it had to be one of the punks though," "Why d'you think that?" In talking, we've moved away slightly but his hand rests on my leg and my own hand covers it. "How else could anyone have seen us--other than at a club. We don't know when he figured it out but I'm guessing it was the night with Rowan and uh, everything." "Sounds right. So, um, what do you think he'll, like, do?" His face scrunches. "I don't think anything. On the phone I tried to convince him he had you all wrong and maybe it worked a little, but I don't really think he's going to cause any trouble, not with other people anyway. WE may have not heard the last of him." "He wasn't really, `all' wrong. You do get a tough ride, but don't worry I'm not going to obsess over it. You okay, it shook me up there for a second, how're you doing?" He smiles. "I'm not letting anyone in," and we move to fully together once more. We talk about it a bit more later in the day but the more time passes the less I'm upset about it and Simon isn't especially bothered by it either. I think by then we're both starting to feel a bit like nothing can touch us. People have tried and failed. As long as we hold onto each other hard enough nothing will be able to get in between us. ____________ Life after that is just better, for some reasons that are physical and real and others due to our own minds, but it's just BETTER. Easier. Maybe because I feel so connected with him all the time, especially now when we're in classes together. Before that had been the worst of all, the so close, and yet so far way, thing. Close enough to touch, but worse cause you know you can't even look. Only now, just being in a room with him gives me this energy and HEAT, I can feel his love from a few rows away, and I don't even have to look. Not that I still don't get flicked by Rudy now and again. Waiting even, has a sweetness to it, painful, but wonderful at the same time. And while being with the preps all the time is still not what I'd call hours of fun, having Rudy around makes things considerably more bearable. And there's Stacy too of course. But the added hassle of pretending to be in love with her can take away from the attraction at times. I know that makes me sound like an ungrateful bastard, but I bet she feels much of the same thing. Not all the time, but sometimes. It's not like she hasn't other stuff on her plate too. We talk about her and Kevin when we can, and lately she's been feeling a bit more like she's close to cracking the shield, which is of course making her super happy. On the home front, mum and I continue to work on getting close, again, and for the first time too in a way. The thing that's helping her the most is having talks with Carol, just sharing feelings and having a friend I guess. I'm not really a part of it, but every once in awhile we talk about her progress with dad. She stays pretty positive, and I know it's at least PARTLY for my benefit, but I hope not entirely. The Punk Sometimes life just doesn't go exactly how you'd like. This is something most people know and have basically accepted. Problem is, if everything is going really great in your life you usually can't help but sort of forget about that after awhile. Things go well for long enough, you start getting really used to it. To quote the Queers, everything was going my way. Our way. Elliot and me had finally gotten there, that final plain of understanding and connection. He was bonding with Rudy too, which was a major moral boost. Rowan and I were rocking the free world, being our insane selves and he was relaxing a bit about the whole `what am I, who am I, what the hell is wrong with me' thing. From what I could see from Kevin him and Stacy were getting closer in a big way and though he didn't say much about his brother, he was for sure at least hanging in there. We all visited him once and I thought him to be a pretty cool little kid. Not `considering', just plain cool. To mmy Chad was still skulking about, scummy and snively as ever, but so far as we good tell, remaining well shut-up. As far as my little stalker/mystery caller was concerned, though I didn't really let Elliot hear any of it, he did call a few more times but I was eventually able to get him to lay off as well. Everything in life had been going so perfectly, if I dare use that word. And that is precisely why I was so very unprepared to hear Elliot crying on the other end of the phone. Basically, it started like this: I was happily listening to my favorite New York Dolls record when mum knocked on the door and yelled that the phones for me. I turned the music off and grabbed my mobile (which I didn't hear ringing over the music). "Hello?" I said. "Please come get me," Really quietly so I barely heard. "Huh? Elliot, what's up? It's 10:30?" 10:30 usually equals his parents are home and probably still awake. "I know, Simon, you've gotta come get me." His voice broke, and the tears started. I haven't been able to get a word out of him since. I don't know what to do, I mean, am I just supposed to go over there? What if his dad is home? "Elliot," I say trying one last time. "Honey, what's going on? Do you really want me to go over? Is your dad not home?" The sobbing only gets louder. I swear, but with my mouth away from the phone, so hopefully he didn't hear. "Okay, just don't... do anything. I'll be right there, okay Elliot? I love you, I'll be there soon." There are a few hiccupy noises of recognition and I hang up the phone. Feeling and probably looking pretty terrible I walk out of my room and find my mum. "Can I have the car?" "What's wrong?" She says rushing over and taking my quite possibly ashen face in her hands. "Something with Elliot, he was crying and he asked me to come pick him up. I need to get over there." She's immediately concerned. "You can't drive like this, look at you! I'll drive, and, well, we'll figure something out. He never said what was the matter?" "No, just asked that I pick him up. He sounded scared mum." My mums a solider. She's a fighter, she squares her shoulders and takes command of us both. She makes me take a jacket, even though it's not very cold. She drives quickly, but safely, face determined and braced for the worst. I can't even quite pick what the worst would be, but I hope it's none of the fears that are creeping into my head. We get to the house. The grand imposing nature of the building had long since lost its effect on, or so I'd thought until tonight. In the dark it seems to stretch up far into the sky, and looks mean and menacing. I leave the car alone, up the walk, fingers twitchy entering in the security code that will allow me to gain access. They change it every week these days, but Elliot still always tells me. When I first get in the house seems deserted, but half way down the hall I see the shadow of a man in the living room. A violent shiver causes a full body convulsion. Elliot's father turns from the window, and from the open doorway I k now he can see me every bit as well as I can see him. He says nothing, and gives barely any reaction. Like cold fingers the realization that he must know, that somehow he must know or Elliot never would have called, grips my heart. I'm not sure if I'm supposed to speak, but since I'd never be able to think of what to say, I just turn and head for the stairs. I find Elliot huddled up in a corner, arms wrapped around his legs which are folded tightly against his chest. Long strides across the room and I kneel beside him, my hands trying to unclench his arms or at least get him to see that I'm there, so he'll do it himself. "Elliot," I whisper in a hiss. I kiss his cheek, which is very cold. "Elliot, I'm here, let's go." Slowly, almost like he's sleep walking, Elliot gets up. He reaches for my hand without even looking down and I quickly move so he'll find it. A million questions are racing through my head but the only one I voice has an answer that is already fairly obvious. "Ready to go?" He nods, which is a reaction at least I guess. Slowly, I lead him out of the room and down the stairs. Down the hall and out the door, his father watches us leave. In the car, nothing is said. Mum just drives, no questions asked. We get to my room somehow and Elliot curls up in a ball on my bed, sobbing and shaking. I can only sit beside him, stroking his back not knowing what else to do. Eventually, not able to stand it anymore I get up and pace around the room. Then out of the thick silence I hear my name being called in a very small, frightened and urgent voice. I run over, scrambling to get him into my arms. There are no new tears in his eyes but his face is wet and blotchy. "Simon, I need--" I press a finger to his lips. "I know," he tries to say something else. "Shhh, baby, I know." And I lean down, kissing him. Nothing can seem as bad or as hopeless in the warm after glow when we're holding each other close. We each of us feel better both from giving and receiving comfort. I'm loath to break the peaceful mood but at the same time, know it'll probably be easiest for him to talk about it now. While the connection that I know gives him the same strength I receive is strongest. "Elliot," he emits an `emm?' sound. "I need to know what happened." He snuggles his head against my chest and his fingers are curling my hair ends. "I always thought my parents were so out of it. Like I could just keep fooling them as long as I wanted. Mum proved me wrong but even that didn't tip me off. Did it ever occur to you that he'd just work it out? Never occurred to me. I was so sure he'd been totally taken in and that there really wasn't anything to worry about. Only today, when I got home from hanging with the pack he was just sitting there in the living room. Before I could even ask something like why he wasn't at work he just up and said `I know you're still seeing that punk boy'. That's all. He didn't even look at me after that, he just stared off into space till I left. I was hiding in my room in shock sort of until mum called asking if I'd seen dad and it all broke down then. Poor mum, she has no idea what's going on probably. I was crying when I hung up and I didn't manage any discernable words before then. And of course we left before she got home. I hope she'll be able to reach him but Sim on, I'm not sure. It was like he'd gone dead inside or something. His voice was so flat and his eyes were just lifeless." I can think of no words of comfort, so I hold onto him tighter hoping it'll be enough, for now. Once he's asleep I throw on boxers, a pair of jeans and a shirt, and I sneak away quietly to locate mum. Her face seems to have aged with worry and though I feel terrible about that, knowing it's the not knowing that probably did it, I'm glad she didn't come in or try to talk to Elliot during the ride. Before anything is said she hugs me. Then in a few ragged sentences I relate the basics of what Elliot told me. Well, pretty much only that his dad knew really. "Could you call his mum, arrange something, mum? Please," I'm tired physically and emotionally. My voice came off sounding rather pitiful I imagine. She smoothes her fingers over my cheek and nods. "Of course love," Afraid Elliot might wake up and find me not there as soon as she's finished speaking I rush back to my room. I find him still fast asleep. Crawling into bed with him I'm struck with something that feels like a massive wall of bewilderment and confusion. I plain and simple CANNOT understand how anyone could reject Elliot. He's too beautiful, too sweet, too loveable. I lie beside him feeling intensely protective of him like... well like always, but it's right up front now. Even though it's not even long enough really to be necessary I find myself just lying there softly brushing his hair back against his head away from his eyes. About half an hour or so later, by which time I was dozing beside Elliot, mum comes into the room and shakes me gently. "What's going on?" I ask her sleepily, rubbing my eyes so I can focus better. She smiles her perfected mum sad smile. I notice then she's holding the phone, covering the mouth piece. Without her saying so I know she wants me to wake Elliot. I do and he returns to the land of the living slowly but not grumpily. Underneath the blanket I can feel him hastily pulling on boxers, and I glance over to see he's trying not to blush. Mum looks down at him her face lit with loving concern. He serves her a weak smile, which she returns. "It's your mum, do you think you could manage to talk with her?" She asks kindly, without sounding the slightest bit pushy. He nods and pushes himself upright. She hands him the mobile. Elliot looks at me, torn, I think, between wanting me to stay and needing to be `alone' with his mum. I decide to make the decision for him. I lean over and kiss his cheek, then get up. "You'll be okay?" Just in case I'm wrong. He smiles and I leave. We get to the kitchen before I start questioning her. "What'd she say, what's going to happen?" "That will depend on Elliot," she says, as if she feels it's all she's permitted to. "Well what does THAT mean? Mum. Please. This is killing me. I can't stand it. I need to know what's going on." She sighs. "I suppose that really, there isn't much harm in telling you and I think rather that Elliot won't mind." "SO?" I press. "You know the circumstances leading up to this, her call to Elliot and then her rush home?" I nod. "She's told me she hasn't been able to get much out of Elliot's father, which is why she was so relieved to hear from me," I push away guilty feelings. "Now that she knows more of the situation we could think of only one--temporary--solution." "Which is?" "IF he agrees, Elliot will stay here, at least until Eva can talk more with his dad. She still hopes to be able to sort him out." "'Sort him out'?" I parrot a bit angrily. "Try to be patient and try to understand that she still loves him. I know that it must be difficult for you to understand how that could be so, seeing how much he's hurt Elliot but you need to try. What's more, I think she believes HE still loves Elliot--very much in fact. But right now you need to stay focused on Elliot. How much he needs you right now, I'm sure he won't even be able to say." She looks at me sadly. "What?" It almost looks like she's about to cry. "Mum?" "It's nothing. You're just so young, and you've taken so much onto your shoulders." I try to smile bravely. "It's okay, mum, it's beyond worth it to me. No amount of struggle could ever change how grateful I am to have Elliot." She pulls herself together rapidly, shaking her head. "Honestly. You're not to be having to comfort me." She puts a hand to my cheek. "Are you alright, really?" I nod. "I don't want to see Elliot hurting, I pretty much can't bear it, but I'm alright, really. As long as I still have him with me, then I believe we'll be okay." There's a certain kind of hug only your mother can give you, one that makes you feel like all you problems have been taken away. She holds me for ages, and it's that which I find more comforting than anything she could ever say. The Preppie I'm off the phone with mum and properly dressed by the time I hear Simon climbing the stairs. My head is still swirling from everything that was said, but I know Simon will ground me. I'm already standing up, and when he cautiously enters the room I walk immediately over and hug him. It's not the same kind of hug, not like I've been needing other times today. I'm not clinging to him for support and protection. It's really more of a thank-you. I'm hoping too, that I might be able to be of some comfort to him. He never even tried to question me before I was ready even though it must have been agony, being so confused and obviously scared for me. For a second or 2 Simon seems a bit confused by the nature of our hug, by the different way I'm holding myself, but then I feel him give himself up it. We pull away, but not until loads of time has passed. I kiss his cheek. "How are you?" Again he seems surprised. "I'm okay--how are YOU?" I smile. "I'm okay too," I pause and give him a light, Rowan-esq punch in the arm. "Roomie." Simon pulls me into another hug, a quicker one, but it's just as wonderful. Anything physical with Simon is wonderful. "You're really okay?" I nod. "Yes really, yes honestly. I mean, I'm obviously NOT, but I am." "Oh right, that makes sense." He says sarcastically. "Well, I'm upset, and I'm sad about my dad--but more my mum than anything. I feel a lot like I'm making her choose between us and that's not really fair--" "It's not your fault your dad's acting this way!" Simon heatedly cuts in. I sigh, smiling slightly. "I know, which is what I was getting to," He smiles contritely. "I still feel bad though. Like, if he doesn't start at least trying to be accepting, I'm afraid she'll file for divorce or something. You can't deny I'll have played a little more of an active role than the classic `it's my fault' kid-blames-himself thing if that happens. Plus well, he's still my dad, in there somewhere is the loving father I remember. I still love him," For a moment Simon looks almost ready to roll his eyes, but he stops himself. "BUT, I am okay. Because of you, because of how safe and loved you never fail to make me feel, and also because of your mum. I can still feel a bit like I have at least 2 parents no matter what you know? Bit of a `Elliot has two mummies' job but that's okay. I hate feeling a like a welch, but I figure you can come up with some creative things for me so to do so that I'll at least be earning my room and board." Simon blushes but smiles at the same time. "I'm sure we can come to some sort of satisfactory arrangement." We were up so late that night no one even thought of school, but I'm still surprised to find Carol reading in the den when Simon and I finally stumble down some time after noon. From behind Simon slips his arms around my waist, resting his head against my back. I cover his arms with mine and rub his hands. It used to be that around other people I'd feel inhibited, and shy away from such displays, but now nothing feels more natural than touching Simon. Besides that, as soon as he touches me my brain focuses totally on him and everyone and everything else might as well not even be there. I sigh against him, feeling complete. We let go and Carol smiles at us, or maybe she had been smiling the whole time. "How's everyone today?" She asks warmly. Simon and I beam at each other. Carol laughs. "I'll take that as an enthusiastic `fine', shall I?" I blush, Simon just keeps smiling and beaming. "Hungry?" I shrug. "I guess. You?" Simon moves close, running his fingers lightly over my chest, a happy grin on his face. He nuzzles his nose into my neck. I can't help but laugh. "What's with you?" I tilt up his chin and he kisses me. Still smiling, I see Carol exit out of the corner of my eye. My attention returns fully to Simon and responding to his kiss. After all of the stress of the previous night this playful, joyous mood of Simon's--while surprising--feels so RIGHT. It's just the kind of positive, supportive response I've come to except from Simon. I want to say something to him so much I break the kiss. "Something wrong?" Simon asks. I smile. "No silly. I just wanted to say something," he raises his eyebrows. "Well?" "Can you guess?" I've caught his mood. He chuckles. "How many words?" I hold up 3 fingers. He pretends to be thinking hard. "Um... `I like toast'?" I poke him in the stomach with 2 fingers. "'Simon is God'?" Trying again. A whole fist this time. He laughs and grabs me with both arms, pressing up hard against the whole length of me. "I love you Elliot," he says in a low hum. I shiver. "You got the last word wrong, but we'll give you the prize," He rewards me with a gleeful smile. "I get a PRIZE?" The same glee in his voice. "Uh-huh," Then I attack him with my mouth and hands. We're both down on our knees, still snogging our brains out, when I hear a polite cough coming from the doorway. Instead of jumping away from each other Simon and I merely separate our lips. Simon rests his head on me again and I look up at her. "I'll ask again, anyone hungry?" Perfectly on cue both our stomachs growl. We all laugh. We head to the kitchen holding hands. The rest of the day is spent in relative calm and tranquility. Simon fusses over me except when we're both being fussed over by Carol. Having the facts already lain out, it's been silently agreed that no one will bring up my father again, but no conversations feel forced. The laughter and smiles are real. Dinner is quiet, but pleasant. Simon holds my hand, wonderfully, over the table. I silently marvel at my good fortune. Not all of us are lucky enough to have a perfectly wonderful secondary home to run off to in times of trouble. After dinner, there's another call with mum, and she expresses the desire to see me. "I don't know mum, do you mean at the house?" "NO! Well, it's just..." "Father's there." I supply. She sighs. "I was thinking we could meet downtown--or I could pick you up. Go out for lunch or dinner? I could bring you some of your things from your room." From the start, the conversation had felt like an intrusion on the peaceful day I'd spent with Simon and Carol. I know though, that it's only reality knocking on the door. Which was of course bound to happen eventually. "Alright, lunch I suppose. We can even go to the cinema if you like, meet you on 5th around 1?" "That would be wonderful dear," I feel I owe her enough to try. "Yeah, thanks for calling and everything mum. I know you want to check up on me, but I'm really fine." "I still want to see you, and you'll be needing some clothes and things," I'm actually wearing borrowed clothes from Simon at the moment, so getting something of my own really wouldn't be such a bad idea. Not that I don't like dressing in his things, I just don't like being a bother. "Great. And a few cds okay?" "Right," "Thanks mum, see you tomorrow." Simon comes in seconds after I've hung up. I smile knowingly at him. "You're getting quite good at that," I inform him. "What?" He says feigning innocence. "Walking in at just the right time, you haven't taken to listening at the door have you?" He doesn't give in to my teasing, just walks over and slides his arms around my waist. Suddenly I feel him go rigid. "I feel like such a bastard," He says trying to pull back. I stare at him. "Huh?" He shrugs. "It's just, I love having you here so much. `Right at hand' and all that. Even though I know it's for this shitty reason, I can't help feeling HAPPY about it and wishing you'd never leave. When of course I should want you to be able to go home as soon as possible." I shake my head. "Damn! Si, you HAVE turned into me. Jeez." I pull him back into my arms. "Simon. I. Love. It. Here. I love being here, having you so close," I kiss his cheek. "I feel like I spend my life missing you, and now you're never more than a few seconds away from me. Yeah, it's a wrench about my dad. Yeah, I hope to be able to go home just cause that'll mean things will be okay with him, especially for my mums sake, but while I'm here, I'm going to be happy that I'm here. I won't miss the opportunity to be with you like this, even though it happened in a bad way. Okay? Don't try to stop feeling happy I'm here, please. There's nothing better you can do for me than to just keep feeling that." He stops resisting my embrace, and instead settles himself against me. ____________ Though it does occur to me that being nervous about seeing my own mother is extremely silly in a way, nervous is exactly what I am. Very nervous. Simon has to do up the buttons of the shirt he's lent me cause my hands are shaking. He kisses my cheek, tells me everything will be fine, tells me lame jokes--anything to try to clam me down. All the while I'm ridiculously telling him I'm all right. "You don't have to go," he says more forcefully then anything else that came before. I look up at him, startled. He shrugs. "Well you don't. Not if you don't want to. No one's going to force you to do anything you aren't up for." He lets that hang there, waiting for my reaction. I sigh. "I need to go, though. Even if I don't want to. I need to." He sits down and we cuddle together on his bed. Theres still time yet before I'm to leave. "Want me to go along?" Since I've been here we've developed a habit about any time we're together. Basically, we're always touching. Somehow. Now, as we talk, his left arm is wrapped around my stomach and his right hand is resting on my left shoulder. My right arm covers his left. With my left hand I'm stroking his neck and face. "I think I should go alone, it would probably be easier on her that way." "What about you though?" Though he can only see my hair, I smile. "I'll be okay. She's just my mum after all. Not some monster." He says nothing, and I'm content to lie there, feeling each breath he takes press up against my body and trying to move our very hearts into synchronized beats. For minutes that stretch on like hours, the world seems perfect. Then Carol knocks on the door. "Time to go Elliot," She says, peaking her head into the room. Reluctant as I am to leave Simon's warm embrace, I sit up. "Okay, in a minute." She closes the door. Simon's hand is smooth and soft against my cheek. His lips on mine are cool and gentle. He breaks the kiss before I can get too absorbed. I fake a pout. He tilts his head, a serious expression on his face. "I live for you." His voice is so soft I barely hear. My hands on his face, his on my shoulders, we hold for a minute, staring into each other. I'm suddenly so overwhelmed by my love for him, by the love I see reflected back at me, that I start to cry. I let go of his face to wrap my arms around his waist as he holds me tightly. I know in not too much longer there will be another knock on the door if I don't let go. Simon must know too, cause we're suddenly not attached, but the way it happened it hadn't seemed so difficult. He tucks my hair behind my ears. It reminds me I need to get a trim soon. I usually keep my hair much shorter than what it is now. I can't risk his lips, so I kiss his fingers. He has his eyes closed as I leave. Parking is hard to find and I'm late to meet mum. Or maybe she was just early. All I know is, her drink is more than half finished by the time I arrive. We both try to smile. I sit down and do my best not to just hide behind my menu. After a few minutes of silence she reaches over and squeezes my hand. "How is he?" I hear myself blurt. It surprised me more than her, I think. "He wants you home." I try to understand what this means by looking hard into her eyes. I find no answer there. "He wants me away from Simon." She touches my face, so I'll stop looking away. Already hot tears are stinging my eyes. "Elli," she coos. So long since I've heard that name from her. "He just wants you home." I face her. "I don't know what that means! How can I even believe that? He just let me leave mum, he didn't even TRY to stop me." I realize it's that which was truly bothering me just as I say it. His opinion of my gayness, THAT I'm used it. It's this new rejection I've been hurt by. She nods. "I know. But he didn't want to drive you further way. He thought that you wanted to go." "I did," I whisper. Looking at her, I think to myself that no one should have to look so sad. "He doesn't understand. He wasn't ready for this yet, and he doesn't understand. But he loves you, that much I haven't needed to explain to him. That much he knew just fine on his own. Elliot, the way he feels about all this, I'm not even sure I understand it, never mind trying to explain it. He loves you so much, you're his whole world. What matters in it at least. He wants so much for you to be happy. That's not the problem, though it may seem like it. He just can't SEE that you already ARE happy. That Simon is what will always make you happy, and complete your life. Not because he doesn't care. Because it's beyond him. It's too far from what he understands and is used to, from what he's expected of you, for you. He thinks right now you're confused, or misled, that this will hurt you later in life only you can't see that right now. All we can do is try to make him understand. I believe it can and WILL happen, but I know it won't be an easy or quick process. He wants you home Elliot, because he wants you safe. Happy. And protected. He still thinks he can do that, take care of all your problems. You have to know too, though it may sound hollow, that he's sorry. It was the first time in all the years I've known him Elliot, except for the day that you were born, that I've ever seen him cry. When he told me what happened that night, over and over what he said was that he was sorry. He said he thought the best thing he could do for you was let you go. He's trying and partly he doesn't even know it." "I can't just go back," I say finding my voice. "Not with him knowing what he does but having him treat me like he still doesn't trust me to know my own heart. I'm glad he still loves me cause I still love him, very much. I don't think you can turn off a thing like love. I wish it wasn't this way, I wish things were like they used to be, for all our sakes, but I am what I am. I love who I love. Now that he knows I need him to understand, or I can't go back. It's so unfair for that to be your job, and I can't let you do it on your own. I have to," I lose myself in thought for awhile. She waits. "See him, I think." I make up my mind. "I won't let you do this alone mum. We can work on him together, talking, doing anything you can think of, but I can't go home. Not yet. Maybe," I sigh. "Maybe not ever? It won't be long before I'm old enough to be on my own; I was always planning to move out for Uni anyway. I know him too, mum. It may take longer than the rest of 5th and 6th for him to accept every part of me. He may never have me home, but I will see him." "Alright," Never once has she let go of my hand. She smiles. Suddenly I feel us both trying to be brave. I smile back. The waitress comes. We get food. For an hour, we're just mother and son having lunch together. We talk about everyday things and relax our defenses. Then while deciding on what picture to see I hit upon something else I need to know. "Mum," So gravely she looks immediately concerned. "How did he find out?" "How? Well I think at least a bit of him knew all along. Only he was fooling himself as well as us into believing he was convinced. It was probably a very small bit but one that sort of grew over time. Not really because of anything you did wrong in your job of trying to keep him convinced but just because there's very little that grows and builds better than fear, doubt and anxiety. I understand that it's horrible for you to hear knowledge of your homosexuality coming to your father in that light but that is how I must suspect it was for him. Fear for the reasons I've listed and tried to explain as I'm myself attempting to understand. He wants what's best for you and parts of who he is and what he's been brought up to believe are keeping him from seeing that really, above all else on this earth Simon is what is best for you. As to what tipped him off? What straw broke the secrets back and finally forced him to confront the truth? I don't know. I wish I could tell you and if I knew I would, but I just don't know. Talking to him about anything much beyond that he's sorry, confused and wants you home has been difficult. I'll try to talk to him about it and perhaps if you feel you brave enough when you see him you can ask him yourself. That is if you're still sure seeing him is what you want to do. Especially so soon, you have all the time you need, we go by your clock," "I've got to do it soon, not NOW but within a day or two or it'll keep getting put off until years have passed. I'm scared and nervous about it for too many reasons to list but the reasons I need to talk to him soon out number those others. Above all I can't stand the constant not knowing. I need some kind of closure I suppose. I can't bear putting you through all this either, I imagine you'd like some closure as well." "It's not about me," For awhile there it had really felt like we were just two people in a really awful jam, trying to work it out together as equals. Now suddenly we're back to mother and son, and me being the one who needs protection. "I think it's about all of us, and I don't think anyone's going come out of this without a lot of hurts, but that can't be helped much. You have my promise that I'm going to try as hard as I possibly can with him mum. I mean I'll be as patient, understanding and positive as I can be, because I really want this to be okay. That said though, I'm sure there will be times when I won't be able to handle it all, sometimes I may blow up at him, or just leave entirely." She squeezes my hand. "Of course you will, I don't except you to be perfect. You're not the only one who may have occasion to blow up or storm out of a room, but that's just life. The only promise I want from you is that you won't push yourself beyond your limits, I need your promise that when it IS all becoming too much you'll talk to me or Simon and take yourself out of things for awhile if need be. Can your promise me that?" I smile. "Simon wouldn't let me push myself too far even if I tried, so that's easy. Yeah mum, I promise. Promise me back okay?" "A mother can't really promise not to go to the limits of her very sanity for her children, but I promise I'll only act in what I believe to be your best interest, and I know having a sane mother is probably in your best interest." I actually almost laugh. ____________ When I get back early that evening Carol's not there. I call up and Simon shouts down a hello and I hear him bounding down the stairs before I can say anything more. "Hiya," He says, placing his hands on my hips. I smile. "Where's your mum?" He shrugs. "Work, how was lunch with yours?" "Lets go to your room and I'll tell you all about it," He agrees by taking my hand and leading me up the stairs. "Ready?" He asks. We're lying down facing each other on the bed, each with one hand on the others side. My spare hand is cradling my head and his rests on his shoulder. "It went really well, I think you could say that anyway. We talked a lot, or actually mum talked a lot, but it was the best I could have hoped for. She did a great job of explaining dad to me and I felt really comforted by the whole thing. I feel weird too you know? Older or something? She trusted me with a lot of heavy stuff and it made me feel more mature, more... I don't know, adult? At least in her eyes, then of course I was still her little boy at times as well. I realized a bit more of what I was feeling about everything too, like I mean it helped me face some stuff I was maybe having some trouble admitting." He leans over to kiss my cheek. "Want to tell me about that?" "I just had to see that it was his new rejection of me that had me really hurting. I'd almost dealt with his old homophobia, but then when he just let me walk out of the house I felt a bit like he'd stopped caring about me entirely. Not the most rational way of looking at things considering it was probably lucky he didn't try to stop us leaving, but it was still bothering me." "Makes sense enough to me," Simon says kindly. "Now we're going to try to get him back, try to make him understand things." Simon's expression changes dramatically. "What will that involve?" I shrug a shoulder. "Just talking to him, letting him see how happy I am, how much I NEED to be with you." This doesn't appear to have calmed him much. "What if he, I don't know," He bites his lip. "Simon," I say wiggling closer and putting both my arms around him. "It's going to hurt no matter what but this way at least I can feel like I'm moving towards something better in the future. I've sort of prepared myself for some level of pain and difficulty because let's face it I have to be realistic about this. I do know that he still loves me, and he's even sorry for how he's been acting, but he's still all confused about everything. I wish you could have heard everything my mum said, it really cleared things up for me. This whole gay thing making me happy isn't from his world. He can't comprehend it so he thinks by getting rid of you he's helping me. What mum and I are going to try to do is show him he's got that all wrong. No matter what I'll have you for my strength so nothing will ever really hurt me." He gives me a determined squeeze. "Damn right." We spend the rest of the evening talking, until we're both yawning so much it's impossible to carry on a conversation. It's the most magical thing to be able to undress in the same room, and slip each other into pajama bottoms. Crowded together into the upstairs bathroom, brushing our teeth side by side I nearly start to cry from the sheer joy of it. I really do start to tear up as we climb into bed. "Happy tears?" He inquires, rubbing at my cheeks with his thumb. I nod vigorously. "The happiest. I need to be with you Simon, sometimes I don't even understand how much. This is all I could ever want--just being in a room with you. Going to sleep beside you, knowing when I wake up you'll be there and that the day will be ours to spend together, it makes me so happy I'm sure it must be heaven." "We must have been very good then, if that's the case." Already lying on his back, Simon's chest serves as my pillow, and his arms keep me warmer than any blanket. It's a truly wonderful thing, to be able to fall asleep perfectly happy. The Punk As I slowly regain consciousness I feel myself being studied and watched, but I keep my eyes closed. I try to feel where Elliot's are focused as they roam over my body. After a minute or so I begin to slowly turn myself over, eyes remaining closed, still feigning sleep. Onto my back, I flop my arm down on his chest. It's my biggest challenge stopping my eyes from snapping open as he gently cuddles my arm against himself, interlocking our fingers. "Morning love," I say softly. His breathing continues peacefully. I've not startled him. "Morning Si," I snuggle closer, so that I'm nearly half on top of him, head resting just over his heart. Bliss. "I didn't fool you then?" A bit later, once we're breathing in sync, his arms around me. "Sorry muffin, it was a pretty good try though." I chuckle. He's stroking my back. "Muffin? He tightens his grip slightly, I press myself into him. I think we're both rather annoyed we still have to bother with this whole business of having different skin. Bothered that anything should separate our total union. "Like cupcake better?" I tilt my head, kiss his shoulder. "You're mad," His hands coax me up to eye level. "You're so beautiful," His fingers on my face, actual awe in his eyes and voice. "Nothing compared to you," I retort. He shakes his head. "No, it's different with you. You're fascinating to just look at. There's always so much going on, your eyes, your mouth. When you talk, smile," he grins. "Laugh. You know how I love to watch you laugh." I kiss him tenderly. "You're just trying to butter me up for sex, admit it," Elliot slaps my shoulder. "You're so mean," I kiss him again, harder, deeper. Feel his immediate response. "See?" He raises his eyebrows, knowing I'm no more likely to stop now than he is. He leans back, taunting smile. I shrug. We hold our standoff for maybe 30 seconds before simultaneously lunging at each other. The morning is spent in bed, we leave only once to take a piss. Lying around talking, or getting to know each other better in others ways, it's an amazing few hours. Sadly, my decision to go to school for the afternoon to pick up missed work and to fill Rowan and the others in on the transpired events puts it to a rather unwelcomed end. Half-dressed and looking down at him, Elliot says to me in a babyish pout, "I'll just stay here, thanks," burrowing himself into the bed under blankets. I slap some unknown part of him under them. "Don't be like that," He emerges to kiss me, tempting me very strongly to return to bed. "Come on," I whine. "Someone has to go," "Shan't be me," Innocent smile. I'm secretly glad though, to be honest. I don't really want him back into the thick of any type of things just yet. Just for fun I shake my head, disapproving look written over my face. "Lazy sod," Another kiss. "See you round 4 muffin," He says waving as I go. I stick out my tongue, and shut the door behind me. Having worked the night shift again, mum's still dead to the world in her room. I leave a note. At school, I round up Kevin and Rowan. Stacy's off with the pack, but Kevin will catch her up to speed. They get the 411. "So he's staying with us for now," I finish. Rowan shakes his head. "Mega," Kevin says nothing. "What's going to happen?" Rowan again. "At school I mean. Is he going to stick with the pack?" With everything else going on school hadn't really entered my mind in any real way. "I honestly don't know. We haven't discussed it--hell, I haven't even thought about it." "You should talk to him about that," Kevin speaks, finally adding his two cents. Rowan shoots him a very clear `no-duh' look, but it's just what's expected of Kevin. If he didn't go around passing out fairly obvious advice all the time I think we'd all get very freaked out. There is un-boundless comfort in routine. I smile. "I will, now that I've thought to. Any suggestions?" Silence. I snort. "Don't all talk at once," I sneer. Rowan shrugs. His shoulders are bare. For a second or 2 I find myself staring. Our eyes meet. We try to smile, then look away. Kevin is oblivious. I spend the remainder of the afternoon in a barely there way. Physically I'm in the desks, the halls, sitting on a bench in silence with Rowan, but not mentally. Mentally I'm with Elliot or thinking about what we should do about school, and even all our lives after that. A bit too, I'm thinking about Rowan. And how much of an US has developed between him and me. How I'm in these two incredibly tight units with two different people. I love them both so much, so fiercely, that it's sometimes very difficult to separate feelings, even though the love I feel for them is so drastically different. How that can be dangerous. Like usual he gives me a ride home and before I get out of the car Rowan gives me a hug. I'm not sure what to say. His smile is bent and uncertain. "Don't um, say anything. Give my best to Elliot, alright?" I nod, smiling my own uncertain smile, and get out of the car. Into the house, mum I assume still about somewhere, but I don't go looking for her. I find Elliot sitting in the living room reading one of the books his mum had brought for him. He's engrossed in the book, face very concentrated, serious. Still he looks cuddly and peaceful sitting here, and very at home. I walk across the room. "Hi El," He looks up from his reading. Serious expression gone, happy smile in it's place. "Afternoon muffin," I eye him suspiciously. "How long are you going to carry on with this whole `muffin' thing?" He shrugs. I can't help what I do next. It's been too long in a room with him not touching. I join him where he's made room on the couch. Enveloped in his arms. It occurs to me that lately he's been doing all the cuddling, me the one being cuddled. I'm happy to sit in silence, having my question go unanswered as long as he likes. Much later, "You didn't seem a big fan of cupcake," I laugh. "What did I do to give you the impression I was a fan of `muffin'? Silly boy," He cuddles me up closer, my hair gets kissed. "You'll get used to it." I sigh, enjoying pretending to be put-out. "Just no shortenings okay?" "What, no muff or muffy?" Voice in a pout. Poking him in the leg, "Definitely not." There is pause for consideration from his end. "Oh alright then. If you're going to be so grouchy about it," pathetic attempt at a puppy dog sound. "Not even muff once in awhile?" Trying to sound endearingly hopeful. "Sorry, I have my limits." "You're no fun at all." Still the pout. I turn around and sort of climb up him so we're eye to eye, Elliot sitting sideways on the couch, back leaning against the arm rest me tucked into the remaining space. A gleam in my eye. "Don't whine," "It's the only way I know to get my way though," "Bet we can think of other ways," He catches on. We positively sprint up the stairs. Stopping short when faced with mum, nearly ready for work. "I'm off, suppers in the stove, you'll manage easily enough as always I suppose?" We're both a bit filled up to overflowing with love and she gets a kiss on the cheek from each of us. "See you Carol," "Have a good nite mum!" "You too lads," as she goes down the stairs. I take a second to marvel are how accepting she's been about everything. We wait until we hear the car door slam, and then take a collective running dive towards my bed. I decide to give my in the after glow thing a try again. "School," wrapped up into each other in bed. Faces barely an inch apart. "School," he parrots. "Elliot," grin. "Simon," not muffin at least. "Serious. What are we going to do about it?" Lightness gone. "Oh," I poke him. "Yeah. Oh." "It's been so crazy this year I've no clue how I've even been managing to scrape my decent grades together. Theres tests and things and I never even think about them. Only explanation I can think of is that I was always in something of daze at school," "That combined with your apathetic laziness," He rolls his eyes. "Right, that too," I kiss his nose. "So?" Pouting again. "Dunno. Don't really want to go back period, you?" Nibbling at his lips. He brightens a bit. "Together or alone, El, those are our choices." "I'm not sure I could be away from you now, not after we've been together like this. I don't really think I'd be able to keep my hands off you," "Me too. Decided then?" Resolution hasn't reached his face. "It's just, if I leave the pack AGAIN," I sigh. "Imagine the outrage." "Exactly. What if they tired to go after you guys like before? What then?" I shrug. "Well, we'll just deal with it. Tell the HM again, but this time we won't have to get Rudy to do it, since there's no one left to hide from. I know it'll probably get worse for a bit, but the same old shit without you is a thousand times worse to me than any new stuff they could think to do," He looks about 95% convinced. "What about Rowan, Kevin and Stacy? Rudy too, for that matter. I'd hate to abandon him, leave him stuck with the pack. But I'm not sure he's ready to leave." With one finger I'm stroking his jaw. "I can only speak for Rowan with complete certainty, he'll be fine with it, not fine even, happy. Rob will be thrilled, Kevin, well, he'll probably worry, but he'll worry anyway won't he? If you stay with them he'll just worry about that instead. Stacy would probably be happy to get her boyfriend back." "I'm just so sure they'll be furious when they find out they were being tricked." "Really though El, most of our biggest problems are gone, you know? I don't think there are even too many extreme ones left, if any. But I won't say anything more, cause I feel a bit like I'm pressuring you, and I don't want to do that. Maybe you'd like to talk to Rudy before you decide?" His face scrunches. "It's not my decision to make alone, you get a vote." I smile. "I know, and I vote we do what you feel most right," "Gee, thanks." "I do think you should ring Rudy, maybe he'll surprise you? And I'll call Rowan if you like, run it by him and get him to confer with Kevin and Stacy. That way it'll be a group decision, suit you?" He smiles. "Yeah. Me first," and with that he leaps out of bed, pulling on boxers and pants, and wanders off to locate my mobile. I just sit around for about 20 minutes, not doing much of anything, mind nearly blank. Very relaxed, very at ease. Happy in the knowledge that Elliot is still close by. Before I've had time to get bored, Elliot returns. He's smiling. "What's the good word?" His smile broadens. "He's on side! When I gave him the story--which he had already heard some of from Stacy, he told me he wanted me to go back to you, and that it was cool with him if he has to separate himself from the pack as well to keep hanging out." He gets a distant look on his face. "El?" Refocusing, his smile returns. "I was only wondering how many other preps there are who secretly want out. I always thought I was so special in my dislike of the pack, but maybe I was just too self-absorbed to notice much about the other people around me." I take his hand and pull him back into bed. We're quiet for awhile. "You made sure he understood what could be involved?" Elliot nods. "Completely sure. He was actually cautioning me. Rudy's very bright, and extremely observant. He went so far as to give me a list of the people he thought we might have trouble with. He said something else that interested me, that lately he's noticed a loosening of the packs control. Over the members within it I mean. Like, people are starting to care less, especially now that Drew and those sods are gone. He told me he reckoned there were more people who felt like us left than ones with all the old mentality." "That's probably dead on, which means good news for us right? Anything else, or shall I go talk to Rowan?" He smiles. "Say hi for me," I kiss him before getting up. Rather absurdly, I feel like telling him I'll miss him, he must have caught my look because Elliot beams. "I'll miss you too muffin," I smile tiredly. "There's no putting you off that is there?" A definitive head shake. "Alright then," lips together once more, and I leave. Phone rings and rings, I'm about to hang up when someone finally answers. "Rowan's line, Rowan speaking," "Idiot," "Slut!" Rowan exclaims happily. "Need to talk to you about something," "Oh yeah?" "Yeah." "What's that?" "School and stuff, you on board for Elliot leaving the pack?" Even though I'm already sure, I felt like I should ask. "Damn right! The sooner the better, I know it'll piss them off, but I can't really honestly say that'll upset me too much. Not gonna lose much sleep over it you know? To hell with them, and I'm not concerned about what they might do either, tell him not to worry about that okay? Wait, hold on a sec," I can hear faint talking noises in the background, and though I'm pretty curious about what's going on I try to be patient. A few minutes later, "sorry bout that. So I just talked to Kevy, and he actually agrees! Can you believe it?--youch! Bastard!" Someone gets smacked, probably more loudly than hard. "The poor silly guy actually thought he could take me! Isn't that funny? Anyway, as I was saying. Kevin shockingly agrees, with minimal worrying promised!" "You really don't mind they might hassle us even more after this?" "Not really, strength in numbers anyway. With any luck Tommy will spread the word about Rob being so fuckin scary and they'll all leave us the hell alone. That is, Rudy will be joining the fun right? He's not going to stay with the pack?" "No, he's with us." I did a quick mental calculation. "It'll make 7 of us, to like 9 of them. Some of those being girls of course. Well, including some of the jocks and lower years maybe a bit more. But still, " I laugh. "What can they even do? Unless they plan another gang up on one or two of us, we're fine, and with the administration on our side, we should be completely okay." I sigh happily. "Done reassuring ourselves are we?" "You're just the funniest guy," "And don't I know it! Seriously then, we're okay? Stacy will be fine, she's always fretting to herself about how dismal Elliot is at school, trying not to look at you, all of us knowing you and him both are dying to do nothing but STARE into each other eyes all the sodding day. At least her man here assures me she'll be fine with it. Will a replay of this conversation satisfy Elliot?" I chuckle to myself as Rowan's quick tongue and head. "I think so, yes. Thank you." "Don't thank me yet, wait until you see the bill!" I shake my head and roll my eyes. "Don't shake your head at me!" Rowan shouts, shocking me only slightly. "I'm not going to ask how you knew what I was doing, as I feel relatively secure you aren't watching me from the street and merely took a lucky guess," "You're just terribly predictable, that's all," "Yet another thing I need to work on?" "Precisely. Hmm, you're so lovesick, you probably miss Elliot already, so shall we call it a phone call?" I smile. "Yes, sure. See you Monday?" "Maybe sooner, we'll see." "We will?" "Well if you're lucky that is." "Bye Ro," chuckling a bit. "Ttfn!" Back from the conference with Rowan I join up with Elliot, who smiles radiantly at me. "What?" Slightly embarrassed grin. He shrugs happily. "D'you've any idea how fantastic you've been making me feel?" "Huh?" "I've been hanging round here for ages now but you still light up every time you see me," I'm smiling too. "Doesn't matter how long for, I'll never get over the joy of simply finding you in a room and being able to be in it with you." Arms around his waist. He rests his on my shoulders. "It just amazes me, that's all." I kiss him. We nuzzle each others necks for a few minutes before reluctantly taking a small step back. We take a seat on the edge of my bed. Each with a hand on the others knee. "What's the final tally?" "Ro is as for it as I thought he'd be, and apparently so is Kevin. He's promised not to worry, much. Stacy by all reports will be delighted to see us reunited as well. It seems like we're all set." Our heads turn, eyes meeting. Are we going back in time? I feel a bit like I am, but can't be completely certain about Elliot. To me, it feels like we're back to the days when we first got together, mutually nervous and excited about the prospect of being open at school. Maybe though, it has nothing to do with going back in time. Just full circle. ____________ When Elliot bounces into our bedroom the next morning, waking me up, having left me sometime earlier still sound asleep, he seems as if he's being too outwardly buoyant and cheerful. As if he's preparing me for something by trying to relax me first. Where do you suppose he learned that from? "What's up?" I pose the question bluntly, deciding not to pretend I'm falling for anything. It could have something to do with being abandoned and then abruptly awoken, or maybe not. His happy smile vanishes, replaced a worried frown. "I was talking to my mum," Strictly to myself, I groan. Half-way there, he steals himself to finish the job. "She suggested we all have lunch together tomorrow." No one needs to tell me who `all' is. I feel horribly torn, wanting what's best for Elliot, but unable to stop hating the man who has already put him through so much. "You've decided to go then?" Stating the obvious. Elliot nods anyway. "Yes, as I've said, I need to do this. For her, for me, maybe a bit for him as well." I force myself out of my morning fog, out of my distemper completely. He's going, whether I like it or not, there's nothing left for me to do but support him. To do anything else would be a betrayal of what we are to each other. I smile, which I find easy enough, knowing the reaction I can expect from him. As I predicted, Elliot lights up once more. I hold out my arms and he crawls back into bed. I notice he's dressed and showered for the fist time as I reach out to stroke his hair and find it damp. Assuming he's already brushed his teeth and deciding it wouldn't be fair, I don't kiss his mouth. Just everything else. His cheeks, his hair, his neck and ears. It's not long before Elliot is giggling, while at the same time hungrily positioning his head, trying to catch my lips on his own. It's a battle I'm determined to win. "Morning breath," I mutter, as he misses again, face in the beginning of a pout. He grabs my face in his hands. Declares, "Don't care," and plants one on me. The lip lock soon turns into one of our all time best snog fests. Me, filled with the surging joy brought about by knowing he'll kiss me, and love it, yucky breath or not. It may sound a bit gross, but it sure made me feel loved. The next day, Sunday, while Elliot's having lunch with his olds, Rowan comes over. He'd sounded kinda weird on the phone when he'd invited himself over, and is acting even weirder now. We're in my room and I'm trying to ask in a less blunt way what the fuck is up when he turns to me holding a box in his hand. Nervous like I'm totally not used to seeing Rowan, he hands it to me. Beyond curious, I open it. A pair of matching rings are nestled in the lining. I look up at him and we have an epic staring contest. My eyes return to the rings the same second his glance away at, nothing really, just not at me. "What's this for?" I ask stupidly. He laughs a bit. "Your birthday." Once again I meet his eyes. "It's not my birthday," He gives me an almost pained smile. "I know. Surprise." Back to the rings. "Seriously Ro. What're they for." He shrugs. "You and Elliot." I've noticed something about the rings. "One of them's really small," Again he shrugs his shoulders. "Yeah. You've got bloody small fingers." "That's kind of a weird thing for you to notice," it's the kind of thing I notice about Elliot. Rowan looks away, embarrassed or uncomfortable or both. "Well I've weird so hey." "Rowan," I say, though I don't have a follow-up. He shakes his head. "Look it's not--not what you're thinking. I just noticed. I was buying you a ring for fucks sake. Of course I noticed." "You could have just had them sized later," I say slowly. I don't know why I'm pushing this except I feel strangely like I have to. "It's not like that. Really. I just noticed cause, well, I noticed. Cause you're my best mate, cause you're around me all the bloody time. Cause I care about you. Not `like that' though. Okay?" I'd hug him, I'm so sure, because I know Rowan wouldn't lie to me. Keep it from me maybe, but not lie if confronted like this. Besides, it wouldn't make sense really, him feeling any other way. It's just really not like that with us, knowing that doesn't stop me from a little irrational sometimes I spose. Instead of the hug, I settle for our old standby. I punch him in the arm. He smiles, yet again relieved to be trusted. "You're going to hang together at school again now anyway, so what the hell? Plus I figured since you and Elliot are sort of living together now I'd better make sure you weren't living in sin." That famous and familiar grin, evil twist to it. "Okay smart arse. This is pretty brilliant of you. I probably didn't sound too grateful earlier, but they're really amazing. I know Elliot will love this." For a moment, the grin actually becomes almost shy. Before I can say something else to thank him, to really let him know how amazing he is for going out and taking the time to find us these wonderful things, Rowan clears his throat, looking like he's about to start something he doesn't know quite how to finish. "Maybe I also wanted to, I don't know, give my blessing in some official way," I make my confusion clear. "It's like, there's this slightly warped history we're working with and these rings coming from me are sort of supposed to... make up for that, maybe? Or just let everyone know in this tangible way that I am totally behind you guys 100% and no one's happier that you're together." "You've nothing to prove. No one at all was waiting for some major gift or act which would clear your name forever forward. There's nothing to clear. Not with Elliot and certainly not with me. I really thought you knew we felt like that." He shrugs. "I did, mostly. Think of it as something I needed to do more for myself than anything else. Honestly I guess it's probably me who needs to see you lads wearing the rings *I* gave you. It'll make me feel good. A part of things." I smile a crooked smile. "Thank-you Rowan. Not just for the rings. You're the best. Seriously, just... thanks." He shakes his head. "You're going to make me cry over here." I punch him. "Idiot." He grins, punching me back. "Bastard." For the rest of the afternoon, trying to curb our mutual anxiety about Elliot's outing with his olds, Rowan and I work at amusing each other, annoying each other and generally keeping the others thoughts occupied. We talk about everything and nothing, listen to music and watch TV. At around 3 when mum wakes up we all play a game few games of Rummy. A lot less slowly than I'd imagined, the afternoon passes. In what almost manages to seem like no time at all, Elliot's walking through the door. Feeling a bit ridiculous, but unable to help myself, I rush over and scan him, looking for marks. I check his eyes, but they aren't red or puffy like they get when he's been crying a lot. Probably guessing something of what I'm feeling, he lets me take off his coat and hang it on what's become his hook. He turns to me, smiling. I know what is coming but even as I open my mouth to stop it, it's too late. "Hiya muffin," and no hope that Rowan hasn't heard either. He's dropped to the floor, tears streaming down his face, clutching his sides. "Really. It's not THAT funny." I protest grumpily. "It is to me!" Rowan gasps before exploding again. I take a peak at Elliot, who seems rather pleased with himself and the reaction he's achieved. Mostly, I'm delighted to see him smiling and don't care much for the cause. I wait for Rowan to calm down. Feeling especially generous I even give him a hand getting up. A single eyebrow raised, he surveys me, the old-faithful wicked grin. "Muffin?" I roll my eyes. "Yeah and you can just shut-up about it, or I'll get him," thumbing to Elliot, "to come up with one for you as well." He keeps right on grinning, exactly like a child who's just been given a new toy. Deciding nothing much else can be done, I take my place at Elliot's side. Automatically I wrap an arm around his waist, pulling him up even closer. He smiles at me peacefully, showing absolutely no signs of the distresses of the afternoon, though I'm certain that doesn't mean there weren't any. I gaze down at him, and equally peaceful look on my face, infinitely glad to have him back at my side. Rowan shakes his fool head. "Aren't you just adorable?" Elliot and my eyes meet, I give him an `I'll handle this" look. I punch Rowan in the arm. "Idiot," Rowan punches me back, making an `oh please' `pffttt' sound. "Muffin." The evening passes. Rowan hangs around for a few hours, and it's a pretty average and fun boys night in. Slightly before 10, I catch Rowan's eye and after getting his silent agreement, bust out the rings with a `Tada!' "They're beautiful!" Elliot gasps. "Yeah, aren't they?" He's looking up at me, face shinning. "But don't thank me," I barrel on. "Rowan here snagged them for us," "Rowan!" Elliot exclaims, getting up and hugging him exuberantly. "Thank-you, but why?" After releasing him. I'm curious to see what explanation he'll give El. Looking happy and embarrassed, Rowan just shrugs modestly. "I thought it'd be a nice--though slightly belated--wedding gift. Not like I couldn't afford it," shrugging again. Elliot kisses his cheek, surprising Rowan and causing me to grin. "Thank-you again. Really. Simon, did you thank him?" Sternly, as if I'm his often rude child and he feels the need to check. I roll my eyes. "Yes dear." Elliot takes his arm off Rowan's shoulders to start chasing after me. I'd made my hasty retreat upon seeing the look in his eyes following my comment. Chortling gleefully and shouting encouragement Rowan spurs Elliot on until he catches me, tackles me, and pins me to the ground. "Apologize young-man," His hands are on my wrists, but I still have my mouth. Straining my neck, I join our lips and kiss him until his grip loosens enough for me to make my escape. Once free, I do a quick victory dance, finally raising up both my arms saying, "thank-you, thank-you" to all my imaginary screaming fans. Rowan's turning blue on the couch, and even Elliot can't hide his smile. Having had my fun, I sit down beside Rowan, leaving just enough room for Elliot to squeeze in. Doing the exaggerated yawn and stretch thing, I lay an arm over each other their shoulders. I sigh contently. "I love you guys." Nothing else needs to be said. Simon gives me a 15-minute grace period after Rowan's leaves before looking me squarely in the eyes and saying, "So tell me about it, El." I look down at my hand, and the ring sparkling on my finger for awhile before responding, thinking about what it means, deciding it represents the support from friends Simon and I couldn't survive without and drawing strength from it. "Let's go to bed, then I'll tell you everything." He leads me up the stairs and we silently undress each other. After we've snuggled in together Simon kisses my cheek and looks at me expectantly. "D'you know what I noticed most about him?" "No, what?" Simon's tone relaxes me, letting me know he's not going to rush me, that I'm free to tell this in any order I like. "The way he was looking at me. He was trying not to be obvious about it, but he was looking at me really hard. Not mean even, I think he was just trying to figure me out. I was definitely new to him," Simon's grip tightens comfortingly. "The weirdest bit was for the first little while we all acted like everything was normal between us. It went on so long like that I started worrying dad expected us to all just drive home together after dinner like nothing was going on. Mum didn't seem to know what to do either, but then right when I was about to say something my dad finally spoke up," I'm lost for a moment remembering it, but Simon's gentle touch prompts me to continue. "He told me he was sorry. Not for what or anything else really, but it was something. A place to start. It was very slow going though. It was like for every half-hour of `normal' time he would say one thing about that night. It was `I'm sorry' twice more in one form or another before he finally got to something new. Turned out to be, `Elliot, son, this is very strange for me. Please give me time.' I honestly think that was one of the most difficult things he's ever said. All my life I reckon he's been trying to make me believe he w as invincible, always in control. To comfort me I suppose, but that's all different now. I'm so different now, and I know it's hurting him, having to realize that. He's also clearly struggling to put that together with the fact that I'm at the same time very much the Elliot he remembers. That while I may be different -- especially from the way he's always perceived me -- I'm also in many ways the same boy I've always been. Things like that I'm still crap at rugger and like strange food," Simon kisses my cheek. "Well let's face it. Other then me, your taste IS rather odd." I smile back at him. "Says you anyway," "What else," "Not much else. From there it was mostly silence, it was an okay silence but not the greatest. Then a short film, coffee for mum and dad, an Orange Crush for me, and that was it. Mum hugged me really tight as we were parting, but what dad did left a much greater impression on me." "What'd he do?" "He put his hand on my shoulder and said, `you look happy'. He seemed really baffled by that, but like he felt he owed it to me to say. Another quick hug and a `nite love, talk to you soon' from mum and nothing more. I drove home, found you and Rowan messing about around here and you know the rest." "You okay?" "Yeah, it went not too bad I think, if anything our next few meet-ups may turn out to be a step backward, once his guilt has faded, but I'll take what I can get. Sides, I've got you! I'll always be more than okay." One of Simon's hands disentangles itself and he begins caressing my face. "When did you get so bloody romantic?" I kiss him. "Dunno, but it's all your fault. You made me this way." He smiles happily. "Well I like you this way so that's a good thing I suppose. Lucky for both of us you learned from the master." After chuckling together for a short time we lapse into a very peaceful silence. "Simon?" Nearly half an hour later. "Mmm?" "We've gotten quite good at this, haven't we?" His lazy expression doesn't change. "Good at what?" "Pillow talk," an immediate reaction. His eyes snap fully open and his hands begin a tickling assault that leaves me gasping for air and begging for mercy. "Truce! Truce muffin, okay?" He smiles sweetly and seals the agreement with a tender kiss. Then a grin. "And anyway, I think you have to have just had sex for it to be classified as pillow talk." I consider this. "Yeah, I think we've gotten pretty good at that too." Laughing softly Simon moves closer, lightly running his lips across my skin, sending small tremors of pleasure all through me. Even still, I feel my eyes trying to force themselves shut, my mind growing fuzzy. But I'm enjoying myself far too much to tell him to stop, knackered or not. Then suddenly he stops without my saying a word. "I'm tired bran," he whispers into my ear, and I'm certain it's because he knows I am. I decide I'm even too tired to ask him about the new name. "Me too muffin, sleep then?" As he nods his nose rubs against my chest. As we're drifting off, just before sleep hits me I make a decision. I whisper it in his ear, and Simon pulls me closer. "Nor me," Sleep overtakes us both. ____________ "Morning bran," Simon says, shaking me gently into wakefulness. "Geddoff I'm asleep." "You're not and I can't. It's Monday. We've got school. Time to get up now," he hoists me up into a sitting position, but looks so cute with his hair in an unruly muff, face still fresh from sleep, that I can't even pretend to be grumpy. "Oh alright then," I slap his knee. "Let's go brush our teeth so we can have a nice long snog before we go." Simon smiles and shakes his head. "We can have one in the shower, just come on," and holding hands, we trot off to the bathroom together. Carol's got breakfast ready and laid out for us, and she's sitting in her robe drinking tea when we arrive. "Morning lads," "Hiya mum," "Hullo Carol," We slide into chairs and start helping ourselves. "You didn't have to get up mum," Simon says between munches of toast. "We could have fixed something ourselves. You need your rest," "I'll get it, don't you worry. I plan to go straight back to bed once you've left. I wanted to see you off, so don't feel guilty about it. Made the decision myself. All ready for school?" I myself am queasy with butterflies but Simon's face is serene and untroubled. "Sure, we are. Honestly mum, you make it sound as though it's the first day or something. The years nearly over." The thought makes me excited. We'll soon be having our summer holiday. I think of all that time with Simon. Yum. "Yeah, really, it's no big deal." Trying to match Simons calm and confident tone. She smiles. "As long as you're both happy with things. I'm to understand you'll be spending time together at school once more?" "That's right," Simon affirms. I press my knee against his. He gives me a quick peck on the cheek. "It's going to be fine too. Really mum, there's not much to worry about and what there is we can handle." That was obviously meant for me as much as Carol and I appreciate it. At least I know he's aware of how I'm feeling, and that he's not just leaving me in his confident dust. That he's still right here with me. Leaving the cool of the house into the glaring sunlight takes a minute to adjust to. Simon's hand on my waist, arm wrapped around, I feel comforted and ready. "Thanks Simon," He smiles. "I haven't done anything, but you're welcome anyway bran." I'm finally awake enough to address that. "That's the third time you've called me that, explain yourself Kelly." His smile has turned into an impish grin. "Well you get to call me muffin right? So I thought to myself, okay... why not just make us bran muffin?" I laugh. "You are mad, you do know that don't you?" A kiss. "Of course I do. It's part of my charm." I shake my head at him. "Sure it is muffin," I move to start towards my car but Simon holds me back. "Wait a minute," Confused but obedient I remain on the spot. After a short time I catch a glimpse of Rowans car down the road. "Hiya Rowan!" Simon shouts once he's pulled up into the drive. Head stuck out the window. "Your chariot awaits," There's a slightly awkward moment when Simons starts to open the passenger door out of habit before climbing into the back with me but then Rowan says, "Where to gov'ner?" Making us all laugh and relaxing things once again. Driving down the road, holding Simons hand firmly, I feel my butterflies further receding. It's the strangest thing, to be back with him at the gates of the school, our first day together all over again. But at the same time, not. Rowan's here with us now, there are rings on our fingers and the love we've shared for all these months locked in our hearts and minds, providing an amazing strength. We have a belief in each other that is as unshakeable as bedrock and as sure as the tides, and though I'm aware of how soppy that sounds, really that's the important bit. We have each other. Rowan standing here beside us reminds me that we also have our friends. "Are we going in then or shall we just admire the scenery all day long?" Simon smiles, I'm sure he's trying to avoid rushing me. "You've gotta admit Ro, the scenery IS awfully nice." Rowan gives us a leering looking over and then shrugs, "S'not bad." Shocking us all with his originality Simon punches Rowan on the shoulder. "Idiot," Grinning right back Rowan returns the favour and smugly replies, "muffin." Simon frowns. "That's just for Elliot." Rowan rolls his eyes, but then notices Simon appears to be serious. He smiles sheepishly. "Alright then, sorry," he taps his chin idly, thinking, before snapping his fingers together, looking triumphant. "Bastard." Simon laughs. "Hey, new one Ro. Well done." They share a special, just-us-insane-best-mates smile. I'm not jealous in the least. In fact, it almost makes me cry with happiness, and even pride, thinking I had something to do with them getting together, that maybe I've really made Simon's life better in more ways than one. "Alright lads?" It's Rob. He got a huge grin on his face, back from who knows where, looking as dangerous and cocky as the day we met. "Bloody alright Rob, you?" "Can't complain." He waves his hand between Simon and I. "And what's all this? Have you forgotten where you are? Perhaps we're all getting a little confused in our old age?" "Not quite Rob, you've missed some major stuff. El's dad knows the score now, so he's finally able to come back to us." There's a brief moment where Rob seems to be deciding something in his head, and then he slaps me on the back. "Good to have you back," concern appears on his face. "Your dad's treating you okay?" I nod. "It's not too bad, there's a lot of ways to go yet but I'm alright." I squeeze Simon's hand. "Better than, you know?" Rowan's voice breaks the nice moment we were all sharing. "Why do I always have to do this?" he whines. "We've got to like GO to class and stuff, so moment over alright?" "You couldn't be more right, let's go," With that I give Simon's hand a light pull, and we begin walking. I'm aware of the things around us basically for the first time as we make our way towards the doors. There's only a small number of people milling around, mostly 1st and 2nd years, so no one's really taking much notice of us, but I know that's sure to change once we're inside. I wonder briefly where Kevin, Stacy and Rudy are, hoping it won't be too difficult to find them once we get inside. Up the stairs, through the doors, Simon does not let go his firm grip on my hand. Rowan and Rob are walking close on either side of us, flanking us protectively. There's another flight before we get to our lockers and that's the real test. The corridor is packed with 5th and 6th years, all the players in whatever little drama that's been playing out this year and the years before. At first its just stares, shocked faces on basically everyone. Doesn't matter what clique they were apart of, no one was expecting this. Not after everything that has happened, not after all this time. When I take a second to think about it, I realize it's the punks who are looking the most surprised. Maybe it's disappointment over losing their martyr, I don't know. >From the Preps I get more looks of faint disapproval and distaste, but of everyone they seem the least surprised. As if they had been expecting this. Still I wonder who it will be throwing the first insult, maybe even the first punch. The pack's circle disassembled when we arrived, and I'm waiting for one or a few of them to step forward. No one does, another minute passes, and shaking their heads slightly, some with faces like they have a bad taste in their mouth, they turn around, back into pack formation, and carry on talking as before. Simon and I look at each other, flabbergasted expressions on our faces, both thinking, `did that just happen?' Rowan's grinning, but Rob still looks tense. HE'S been eyeing the punks with a kind of nervous energy, ready to act. It's a different thing with them, scattered all over are groups of two or three, or people standing alone. I can't read any one of them, their faces carefully set with that practised disregard. Before long, they're looking away as well, back at each other or something else, and it's almost like we've been dismissed. Everywhere people are starting to look way, stuff things in lockers, go back to conversations, get on with whatever they were doing before we showed up. Delighted, I let myself wonder if it really doesn't matter anymore. That people have finally gotten sick of all this stupid group loyalty. Maybe it's cause the year's so close to being over, that it's too late to be starting new feuds. Maybe people just got bored. As long as they keep leaving us alone, I could give a shit about the reason why. "Right then lads, see you later," Rob heads off to his locker, starting us all off. Simon kisses me goodbye quickly, telling me he'll see me soon in our Maths set, Rowan waves cheerily promising to meet up with us at lunch, winking at Simon, saying, `you know the place', and suddenly I'm alone at my locker. I get my books, unable to shake the incredibly strange feeling that's possessed me. I'm ALONE in school, for the first time in maybe months there's no Simon protecting me, no Stacy covering for me, no pack member jabbering in my ear. If Rudy ever shows up we'll be together the first lesson, but so far he's not around. I sit in homeroom, wondering where the other three could have gotten to. I feel cool fingers on my eyes. "Guess who?" "Stacy?" There's laughter, MALE laughter. "Fucking Stacy!" Rudy says, hitting me on the back of the head and sitting down. I grin. "Sorry mate, guess your girly hands confused me." "Girly hands?" He's cheerfully indignant. "Who's the poof around here anyway?" I shrug. "Dunno. We've never really established that." He humours me with a touché grin, but doesn't reply. "S'okay Elliot, just pretend we're not here," I laugh. "Sorry! Hi, Stacy, Kevin," They smile and sit down. If I didn't know better -- and I don't -- I'd say they were glowing, the both of them. I watch their hands clasp automatically, and their quick private smile to each other. I'm definitely thinking Stacy's happy to have her boyfriend back. "So what kept you guys?" "We were waiting for you outside for awhile, but obviously it was us who were the stragglers. Why'd you think I was a girl, huh?" I shrug. "Cold hands." His indignation is back. "So? My hands are cold, that means I'm a girl?" I hold up my own hands in mock defence. "Okay, sorry, from now on I promise. Cold hands equals totally manly." Rudy laughs a bit, shaking his head. Kevin gives me a direct look. "How's it going so far?" I shake my head. "Great, I can't figure it out. Everyone's ignoring us." He takes look around for himself and sees I'm right. Here we are, talking, and it's like we're everybody else again. People are slowly filing into class, some are already sitting, talking, writing, doing whatever, but no one's paying us any attention. "Do you think something's brewing?" I shrug. "Oh probably, this does all seem much too easy, but as long as it lasts I'm going to enjoy this." "I told you not so many people cared anymore," Rudy reminds me triumphantly. I nod. "I know, seems like maybe you were dead on about that. I'm not going to get too comfortable just yet, but as I said, I'll be happy while nothing bad's going down." "Want to know what I think?" "Yeah Stacy, what?" "We've been excommunicated. Look around, watch. People aren't just `not paying any attention', it's like we're not even here. We've stopped existing to them, it goes beyond ignoring. It's more calculated than that." Class begins, ending the opportunity for more conversation, but it does give us plenty of time to follow Stacy's advice. It doesn't take me long to begin to suspect she's dead right. I feel a gentle kick, and connect my eyes with Rudy's. He raises his eyebrows, I nod. A test it is. With a slight jerk of his elbow, Rudy sends one of his books clattering off the desk. One or two people flinch, but no one looks our way. The book landed very near a neighbouring desk, occupied by a neutral boy I'm not all that familiar with. "Could you pass me my book mate?" Rudy requests in a friendly tone. The boy turns slightly, looks at Rudy, and shakes his head, in what almost seems like a frightened way. Rudy gets up and retrieves it himself. Our eyes connect again, I shrug, and he nods. Definitely seems Stacy was right. At lunch as we're leaving the school some bloke walks up to us. I don't recognize him but Simon seems to. "Hey," "Hey O'Conor." It doesn't feel much like a normal conversation, more formal, as if they're business associated and not mates. "The words out, they've put the mark on you." Rob lets out a low whistle. "Fast work," there's a quick nod. "It's all about efficiency." A chuckle escapes Rowan's lips, Simon looks at him questioningly, and Rowan whispers something in his ear. They both laugh. "Tell ya later," Simon mouths to me. Then turns back to O'Conor. "Thanks mate," O'Conor nods. "Figured you'd want to know." A second more and he's off. "The mark?" Rudy's voice is a mix of relief and sadness and really isn't much of a question. I didn't get it right away but I have it now. Over the time I've been at this school, I've seen it happen once or twice. Basically it means exactly what Stacy was saying earlier. Excommunication. Some fucked-up council of all the group leaders have like a war meeting and agree to pretty much kick someone out of society. They become untouchable. Excluded, ignored, off the radar. You wouldn't think that it would work, but it does. The way that bloke reacted to Rudy is a perfect example and probably, that was even before the decree went out. Nothing more than a pre-emptive act of self-protection. Thinking strictly objectively, the set up is genius. The person who has been given the mark is to be totally ignored -- any one who disobeys can expect punishment, and therein lies the key to the marks complete effectiveness. I have to try really hard to even remember the faces of those I can recall who'd been given the mark. For a short time before everyone had gotten used to pretending the person didn't exist they'd really stand out, but gradually they'd slip off everyone's register, exactly as intended. I'm not sure if this is a good or bad thing for us. No group of people has ever been marked as far as I can remember, so I don't know how the rules work. Are we allowed to speak to each other? The damned stay with the damned? Judging by this morning, I reckon that must be the way it'll go. Kinda like a leper colony. I look at the others. Simon squeezes my hand, and gives me a brilliant smile. Kevin and Stacy are still basking in each other and Rob's looking exactly as I've grown accustomed to him looking. Fearless and daring, with anger just below the surface. Competent too, like what needs to be done, whatever it is, Rob's your guy. Rudy's actually hanging back a bit and that's when the way we're set up dawns on me. We're divided. Rowan is hovering near Simon, and Rudy the same just behind me, while Kevin and Stace are together. Rob's separate from all us. How much this shows about us and our respective relationships is incredible to me. The division and the explanations for it are so clear, so obvious, and yet no one but me seems to be catching on. Rowan and Rudy also appear to be eyeing each other strangely. Shyly, almost nervously. It doesn't make sense. Rowan's normally such brazen, outgoing lad, and Rudy's the same, once you get past his initial shyness. Of everyone, R udy seems the least comfortable. Why eventually occurs to me, and I smile warmly. "Let's go eat," I say to everyone. We start to walk, but I let go of Simon's hand. His eyes question mine for an instant. I roll mine quickly in Rudy's direction and he understands. Trying to be casual about it, I allow Rudy and myself to fall slightly behind the rest. "You okay mate?" I ask gently. "It's probably in my head only, but I can't help feeling a bit like..." "You don't belong?" "Right." I shrug. "That's the thing about us mate, none of us really seem like we should `belong' with each other at first. I mean, take a look! You've got me, Rowan, Kevin and Stacy -- preppies. Hated by no one more than the who? The Punks! So then you've got Rob and Simon -- punks. And yet none of the usual rules apply. Rowan and Simon are best mates, Simon's my husband. Stacy and Kevin have basically adopted all of us, and you can bank on them treating everyone of us exactly the same. Rob, well, he's not with anybody, but he's also with EVERYBODY, understand? When you think about any of this logically, none of it should work. But it does, cause we make it work. It's weird for all of us -- being back together like that this. Don't think you're the only one who feels out of place. Simon, Rowan and Kevin are used to being a really tight unit, watching out for each other, doing their own thing, the same way you, me and Stacy are. Again there's Rob, and if he's close to anyone its Sim on, but him and Kevin have a pretty tight bond too, if you'll believe it. Cause they both dig giving advice I think. Look at this another way: me and Simon are gay, Kevin and Stacy are straight, so's Rob I think, Rowan's, um, Rowan, and you're the most fucking ambiguous person I've ever met, so that doesn't exactly fit us into some group category either. You can't work out a way for us to `fit in' with each other or make sense except that we care about each other, that we're all mates and that's that. `We're all friend here', alright?" His grin is experimental at best, but it soon grows more sure of itself. "Yeah mate, alright. Still, I'm the only straggler, late comer, you know? I feel like I want to do something about that, start over somehow, but I don't know how to go about it." I pat his shoulder. "Don't worry about it, you'll come up with something if you really need to, but right now don't stress yourself." We get to the Diner without much more conversation, and have to work out a way to fit ourselves into one of their circular booths. While we're all still standing up, Rowan approaches Rudy and I. He sticks out his hand. "Hi, my name's Rowan," for I second I'm like, what the hell Rowan, we know, but Rudy grins. Rowan's figured it out for him. Trust him to be the one. "Hey, mine's Rudy," They shake. I swear something passes between them, their hands hold for longer than necessary, and they both smile shyly. Simon's eyes meet with mine. His eyes say everything, and I'm sure mine are the same, so we don't comment. But don't think Simon hasn't got a smirk on his face, or me too. Rowan notices first, and punches Simon. "Knock it off, bastard." When Simon punches back, it's done gently, as if it's, `well done'. Rowan blushes slightly and mutters something under his breath sounding remarkably like `watch it Kelly'. Rudy notices the exchange, and looks at me nervously. I smile. "Don't mind them. Insanity. It's a bit of a problem." All the others have already sat down, and are looking at us expectantly. We sit, Simon pushing in beside, leaving Rudy and Rowan to squeeze in together on the opposite end with Kevin and Stacy. Talk's a bit ragged at first, but eventually we find our rhythm. Rowan and Rudy supply the jokes and friendly insults, Rob's a silent, yet amused, watchful eye, Stacy and Kevin manage the parenting. Me and Simon merely go with the flow, doing whatever. Mostly we're in there with Rudy and Ro, but once or twice Rob and Si share an eye roll at all of us preps when they decide we've done something humorously high-brow, something Simon's good-naturedly accused me of on more than one occasion. Though really, it's exactly like I said to Rudy. Bonds and friendships are constantly springing up between the unlikeliest of people, such as when Stacy and Rob discover they both love Harry Potter and begin this long and strange conversation about what they think of the books going to film. St acy apparently, is for it, Rob on the other hand, is not. As truly great as I find the rest of it to be, for me, and I suspect Simon, the shinning light is Rudy and Rowan. They're clicking so quickly and so obliviously, it's honestly about enough to make me want to cry from sheer happiness. When it's time to leave, Rudy's jokingly suggests a dine and dash. Rowan gets a strange look on his face. "What?" Rudy asks. "Nothing. I was going to say the same thing, only you beat me to it." They share one of their many surprised and delighted smiles of the hour. As always Simon and I follow this up with a `did you see that' look to each other, then two smirks. Who knows if it'll come to anything, but it's been great fun to watch. Walking back Simon tucks me under his arm, his body telling me everything without the need for words. It always amazes me how much Simon can express through simple gestures and how easily he can understand mine. How easily we are often able to communicate. "You're happy," Delighted. I poke him. "Well I'm with you after all," "Romantic," "Was you who taught me remember," "Ah yes, that's right. Sometimes I forget." "Not to mention inspired," a squeeze and I try to snuggle even closer, while continuing to walk, once again wanting inside his skin, to no longer have to bother with separate bodies or thoughts. "I love you," not that I need to say it, not that everything I'm doing isn't showing him, just because I like to say it. It's the same for him. "I know, love you too." "You're happy as well I gather?" Simon laughs. "Of course. I'm with you after all," another poke. "Copier. Don't you love me enough to be original?" "Haven't you ever heard what they say about imitation?" "Yes, and THAT'S not original either. Honestly." "Forgive me?" "Oh alright." He kisses the top of my head as thanks. "You're okay with this mark thing then?" I take a moment, even though mostly I am. "Yes, I think so. I mean after all, what could be better? They all smile and tell us they like us again, no worries about the poof and click jumping thing? Not bloody likely. On review, this is probably our only realistic solution that's passable. If they hadn't simply given it to us, we might have done well to request the mark. Not exactly going to be heart broken if a bunch of losers I didn't want to know anyway never talk to me again. All in all, if they're ignoring us, that means they can't attack us. That's certainly an improvement, right?" "I'd say so." Ahead of us, more groups are developing. Stacy and Rob are still arguing about Harry Potter in a mostly friendly way, leaving Kevin to tag along looking confused and comically torn between disapproval and amusement. Ro and Rudy off pretty much to their own, talking in what appears to be a steady and comfortable stream, standing a wee too close. Simon and I smile at each other like proud parents. "Can you imagine...?" Knowing I can easily finish the sentence off myself. "Yes, I can, and I think they're absolutely perfect for each other." The expression change on Simon's face is very rapid. "He won't--" "Of course not. Truly Simon, Rudy is a terrific guy. The biggest thing about him is that he's kind. I have no qualms about promising you that he'd never set out to hurt Rowan in any way," Despite my efforts, Simon is not totally won over. "Understand that it has nothing to do with HIM really so much as," "Muffin, I know it. I understand that mainly he's yours, but I love Rowan too. I wouldn't stand to see him hurt any more than you." Simon lets go his anxiety at last. "Thanks for calming me down bran," I smile and give him another squeeze. "Happy to do it, you just went into protective overdrive -- completely understandable considering." "I know you know, but I think I'd like to say it just the same." "Go ahead then," "Rowan's had a rough enough go of it already, and the last thing he needs is to be hurt again. Also, you know his tendency to rush into things. If he DID get hurt again, I'm not entirely sure I could stand it. I'd probably have to date him myself," it was meant to be a joke, I know that, but it hits me hard anyway. "Not sure he'd be especially opposed to that." "What's this?" Simon says, pulling away, face upset. "He's NOT after me Elliot, I was sure you knew that." I sigh, groping for the means to explain myself. "I do, honestly I do. And I trust you both completely." "Then?" My eyes look at him entreatingly. He closes the gap, his arm over my shoulders once more. Steadied by the return of physical contact, I find my head. "Then, nothing. Promise me something before I say this?" "Alright," Too casually. "Really Simon, I mean it. Promise." "I promise." "You'll think before you speak, before you react," almost sternly. "Yes." Him, nearly meek. "If I didn't exist, and yes, I know it's mute cause I do, but if I didn't, you could be happy with Rowan. And him with you." For a half second, I feel the beginnings of a protest, a withdrawal, but I suppose Simon's utter lack of ability to break his word to me stops him. He waits long enough to think it through, just barely. "Okay, MAYBE. Huge and impossibly to really tell MAYBE. Only you do exist, and you've existed in my heart. If you were to die, or leave me for some reason, now, after I've loved you, I can tell you with honesty direct from my soul that I wouldn't be able to love him. Not other than the way I already do. You see how that works? You've changed my heart, and shaped it exactly so it will fit yours, but no one else's. So perhaps I could have loved Rowan, had you never been born, had you never been created. Elliot, if I hadn't met you yet, but if you were someday destined to come into my life, still then I wouldn't be able to love anyone but you. And don't you dare go worrying about Rowan either. Whatever MIGHT have been there in the tinniest, most subconscious way at first, has been totally pushed away by the other love we feel for each other. Rowan's shaped my heart too, and me his. We're best mates, and brothers in every way but blood. He couldn't feel any other kin d of love for me, we're both too far gone being completely in love with having each other as best friends. You're both my mates, but in totally different ways. I love you both, but I live for you. Got all that, Brenner?" The fact that we're on the street, in close proximity with many other people only barely stops me from pushing Simon down and proceeding to make love to him on the spot. Instead I settle for one gentle lip graze and the endlessly corny, "I've got you muffin." No more than a stride or two later we've reached the school. Short time or no, the intensity of the moment has worn off. Cooled by our light kiss. "What's next?" Obviously confidently depending on me to know both our schedules. Not for the first time that day, I poke him. "Idiot boy. Lit," He grins. "Oh goody, me too." I shake my head, all mock severity and lamentation. "Yes. I know." A pitying look shot his way. Remembering something, "Before I forget -- efficiency? Eh? Why is that funny?" "What? Oh right. Um, Monty Python. The Spanish Inquisition." "Oh," glancing at him. "You and Rowan are weird," he smiles. Bell rings, good byes exchanged, class begins. Runs smoothly. Heaven being back with Simon in a room, not having to act like I don't notice him, like I'm not aware of his every movement. Doesn't exactly aid the learning process but I wouldn't call Lit my most demanding lesson, so that's no real problem. Lit ends, we're tempted to kiss in the hallway, but don't, not wanting to push things, and then it's study for me and P.E for him. I've never been fully able to shake the feeling of dread about him alone in that class, but the fact remains that there's not a bloody thing I can do about it. Rudy and I share the study period, and it gives me the chance to do some recon about lunch. "How right was I?" He grins. "Totally." I look at him expectantly and he golf-claps for a bit. "All I ask is a little recognition," as though I'm hurt by his behaviour. "You're a real prat Brenner," "And the compliments continue to stream in," "Could be worse I suppose," For the first time eluding to the goings on between himself and Rowan. I'm actually slightly surprised he picked up on any of it. "Oh yeah? Do tell," He glances at me, nervous and excited at once. "Not sure there's anything to tell -- yet." I could press, and no doubt get something out of him, but decide against it. I clap him on the shoulder. "Be happy mate, that's good enough for me." He smiles at my shyly, gratefully. I beam back, suddenly reminded of how glad I am to have him as a friend. It's strange how potential disasters can lead to such wonderful things. Take how I met Rudy -- one more of the lucky and unexpected miracles of my short life. Tiring, largely for unexpected reasons, I'm happy to see the close of our public day. Simon and I retire to our room as early evening approaches, following an after school hang out and get further (re) acquainted session downstairs. Once again, the budding `something' between Rowan and Rudy had been a pleasure to watch. "I'm completely over it now," I know immediately what he means. "You believed me, and yet you still had to see for yourself." Not angry, stating facts. "Yes," we're on our sides, each with a hand crossed over onto the others shoulder. Eyes probing, gazing, taking in. "Not that I didn't trust your judgement." "Oh, I know. No worries bout that." "Good, because it's important to me that you know I trust no one more. Not even mum." "And me you, more than anything, far more than myself. Other than the part of me that is you, those times when I know the answer that comes from inside myself is really from you." Silence is something I love with Simon, something I'm always willing to share. His gaze is so soft, so tender, so intent. Always, always, when we touch, the rest of the world dissolves around us, until we are fully alone with each other. His hand moves off my shoulder and down my side. Eyes now commanding my full attention. My answer is clear. His hand continues it's decent. ____________ "Simon?" Hours later, sleep having already come and gone but due to soon come again. "Mmm?" "Remember what I said last night just before we fell asleep?" "Remember everything. Which part?" "The very last bit," "Still yes, why?" "I meant it." "As did I." "But I mean I REALLY meant it, literally. Even if things get to be okay with dad, I don't want to go back. Don't want to leave you." "You wouldn't be leaving me," "Don't want to be apart from you then," "As I said last night, nor me." There's really no way for us to get any closer than we already are, but I try to find more of him to press myself against just the same. "Then the agreement stands, we never sleep alone again?" "Yes bran," into my hair, breath tickling my neck. Now's not for practical applications of this promise, merely for enjoying it. Soon enough my boy's peacefully asleep, cuddled in my arms. I'm less than eager to leave him, but there's something I need to do. Getting away without disturbing Simon takes some considerable doing, but I manage eventually. Resisting the urge to kiss his lips, and opting instead for the safer hair covered left temple, I take my final loving glance before tiptoeing out of the room. It's nearly 3am, and by now I know this to be roughly the time Carol returns from work. She's not yet arrived when I reach the kitchen, but I put a pot of tea on for her betting she'll be here by the time it's ready. Strange, to be sitting alone in that kitchen, surrounded by all the cheerful clutter of the room. The whole house is like that actually. More like a real home than mine, things with far less fixed addresses, so that you're not always afraid to place something down, on the chance you'll miss where it rightfully belongs, atmosphere generally given to more comfort and relaxation. Occurring to me also, as I sit there, is the fact that this too is already more my home than the house in which I was raised. Perhaps just that this is where I belong, in this house, but no doubt having more to do with belonging with and to the people living in it rather than the actual building. Carol bustles into the house in a quiet manner, practised to perfection over many years of night shifts, and I'm certain had I remained upstairs with Simon, I wouldn't have heard a thing. She appears only mildly surprised to find me sitting in her kitchen, tea brewing. Our greetings are wordless smiles, and I get up to pour her a cup of the just ready tea. "Thank-you love," she says sitting down wearily, warming her hands on the mug, breathing on the hot liquid. "Hungry?" She nods, though there's surprise there. I think, happiness too. "What'll it be?" "There's some ham and potatoes in the fridge, that heated up would be lovely." I busy myself preparing it, the reasoning behind her expression coming to me as I do. That I've stopped feeling like a guest is utterly clear. Carol has obviously noticed that. "You don't mind?" Talking again for the first time as I set the food down in front of her. "Oh of course not dear! It's only all I've ever wanted since you arrived, for you to feel and understand that you were welcome and at home here. My son loves you a great deal, and seeing the happiness you bring him would be enough, but I keep you here for myself as well. Have I never told you that I love you?" I could cry, I really could. I nearly do. "You've shown me, many times, but I don't think you've ever said it. I -- I of course love you as well." We don't hug, but she reaches over to squeeze my arm for a moment. "There's something I do need to ask you, I should have sooner but..." "It's taken care of," I look up, surprised. Is it possible that both mother and son are able to tell what I'm thinking? "I couldn't bear to be a drain, and you work so hard--" "Taken care of, and even if it wasn't, you'd never find yourself turned away. You are wanted here, understand?" "I do understand, but wanted or not I needed to be certain money wasn't--" "Never would have been, but isn't an issue. I promise you, we're all being very well taken care of, and I don't do SO badly on my own besides. Go back to bed now though love, get your rest, you've school again tomorrow," I smile. "Good-nite Carol," She pats my cheek. "Goodnight son." I climb the stairs, creeping silently back into the dark room, but dark or not I'm able to make out Simon's upright form, knees tucked up into chest, encircled by arms. His head turns at my arrival. "Damn. You woke up." Crawling back under the covers and being taken immediately into Simon's arms. "Course I did. We agreed not to sleep alone remember," Sounding almost indignant. He gives me a minute or two to settle in before asking, "where'd you go anyway? I rolled over in my sleep and reached out for you but you weren't there. That's when I woke up and that was nearly a half hour ago." "I had a chat with your mum." "You didn't get out of bed in the middle of the night to have a `chat'. What did you talk about?" "Oh, a few things really. My point though, that is, why I got up in the first place, was to talk to her about money. I wanted to make sure nobody was getting taken advantage of." Simon sighs. "Honestly Elliot. Even if we hadn't been given money, no one would have been taken advantage of." I'm not sure how to say what I felt without causing Simon to feel insulted. "I knew that, mainly, especially from your end but I still felt I needed to discuss it with your mum. It's not that I wouldn't have believed if I'd gone to you instead. I'm sorry but," "No. It's alright. I understand. She satisfied you I hope?" I burrow into his chest. "Oh yes. Very much. I wicked love your mum." His breath catches and I hear what I hope is a happy sniffle. "Simon?" "I'm alright bran. Just happy. Unbelievably, outstandingly happy," he kisses my hair. "I love you so much," "I must admit, I have rather strong feelings for you as well," serious mood shattered, giddy one in its place. Simon and I wrestle around on the bed for a few minutes, laughing and kissing all at once, forgetting to be quiet and let Carol rest. Not long and we remember, guiltily sushing each other while still trying to fight off attacks of the giggles. Eventually we get ourselves properly under control, on our sides, my back to Simon's front, left arm wrapped around me, right sort of cradling my neck. "No more leaving without telling me El, okay?" Softly, his breath warm on my neck, lips almost touching. "Promise muffin. Not ever -- `cept for a pee that is." He chuckles. "Yeah alright, I suppose that should be fine." "Love you muffin." "Love you back bran." Simon's not long awake, but I stay awhile longer, lying there thinking about what he said. About happiness. I am happy. I have of course been happy for months, ever since Simon. Even through the `unhappy' times whether it be centering around school or my parents or just myself, a foundation of happiness had remained. If there had, at some point, been a darkest hour, I feel certain, without even needing to try and remember back, that at least some of me had been happy then as well. Or now. With everything about my dad, the worry and sadness coming along with that, there's no denying that I'm happy. So wonderfully, totally, happy. Somehow, even when in some ways it clearly isn't, everything remains right with my world. So long as it remains built around Simon. Lying here now, with the warmth of his body against mine, his breath on my neck soft and regular, I wonder, is that Simon's greatest gift to me? My `unbelievable, outstanding' happiness? Happiness to be aroun d him, to be held by him by him, loved by him. What may be very well the simple but all encompassing happiness of being complete. I feel also that, though it will take awhile -- I grow more and more sure of that -- dad will eventually see the light. Getting him as far as being aware of our love for each other will no doubt be the easiest leg of the race. My happiness surges recalling what he'd said to me after dinner, `you look happy'. We're already close. Getting him to be okay with it, to eventually LIKE it, that will be the hard bit, but we WILL get there. The simple reality is, it's four determined people bonded together by love against one confused old man. He really stands no chance. It wouldn't be honest to say I'm doing it just for mum, or him or even me. I want his approval, his love, his validation. Most of all, I want him to be able to see Simon for what he is. See him as the cause, source and fuel for my happiness. See him as a lovely and kind person, so far beyond second class it's incredibly unfunny. But if for some reason I'm wrong, that I've got this all wrong, and dad won't change, won't be able to see those things, the one thing I can bet my life on is that I'll still have Simon. Carol and mum as well. Rowan, Rudy, Kevin, Stacy and Rob. My new, strange, and wonderful family. And so regardless of dad, I will be happy. ____________ Is there anything on this earth more wonderful than being woken up by a kiss from the one you love? "Munh, no! Don't stop," trying to hold his mouth to mine as Simon draws away. "I've got to. School again. I know we went yesterday, but we have to go today as well." "But I want to stay here instead," in my best and most convincing whine. Standing up, out of bed, Simon turns away from me. "Five minutes, or you can wait and shower alone," with that he struts over to the cd player, flicks on the light, hits play, blows me a saucy kiss and disappears around the corner. Anarchy in the UK is blasting from the speakers. "Demon spawn!" I howl, hiding my head under a pillow. Another minute and, "you'll wake your mother up, do you know that?" Stomping after him into the loo. "Oh, and your wails of protest won't?" Mockingly. "Listen you -- any wails of protest were the direct result of your sadistic behavior and I am therefore devoid of guilt and responsibility." "If telling yourself that makes you feel better," shrugging. I hold up a finger menacingly. "I'll get you for this. See if I don't." "Oh yeah?" "Yeah. Some Saturday at 5am when you're in a nice deep sleep and you least expect it -- Hanson!" He laughs. "Sure, you laugh now. But we'll see how you fare when you've got Mmm Bop right in your ear." "I think I may be shaking in fear. Can you tell? Is my body convulsing with tremors of terror?" Hands on hips. "If you continue to treat me in this manner I may be forced to consider divorce." This ridiculously empty threat is responded to only with a snort and a look of exaggerated disapproval. I sigh. "It feels so bloody early," you see how there's something resembling a lame excuse in there, do you note the apologetic tone? Simon grins. "Course it does. I woke us up nearly an hour early," I stare at him saucer eyed. He's stripping down. "Gives us some time for a little fun," He steps into the shower, peaking out at me a moment later, smiling coyly. "Coming?" I give in, kicking off boxers and smiling impossibly wide. Follow in after him. "You're forgiven." One hand on my shoulder, the other resting on the curve of my bare waist. "Oh good. I was really worried." Shower door closed, no need to turn on the water quite yet. ____________ I sit, looking at him across the breakfast table. Across OUR breakfast table. Like mine, Simon's hair's grown longer, but it's increased length has done nothing against its staunch defiance of the laws of gravity. It continues to stick up brazenly, length serving only to enhance the unkempt look of which I've grown so fond. Since we've been together there have been few alterations and additions to his uniform, except that now he's wearing Rowan's ring on his right middle finger, and my Batman ring on a yellow cord around his neck. The black clothes, boots and leather bracelets have remained. Perhaps the only thing that's softened are his eyes, which I confidently think of as soaked with love. They are also possibly happier than the ones I first found myself lost in. Still, he sits with that now familiar defiance and softened or not, his eyes have not lost their slightly wicked glint. His tongue is still capable of the sarcasm I encountered when we first met, as well as the tender words of love I live for. He's been aware of my inventory from the very start, but now Simon finally grins, looking at me just as closely. In my mind I visualize what he is seeing. I know for a fact that my biggest change also comes from my eyes. Many people used to tell me -- and I'd been able to see it myself every time I looked in the mirror -- that I had sad eyes. Lots of things about me used to be morose and apathetic, but my eyes it seemed were invariably sad. No longer. Whatever darkness that was in them has been permanently lifted by Simon's presence in my life, in my heart. Yet, there are many things that have not changed, my light brown hair, longer yes, has stubbornly refused to turn scruffy, never loosing it's `proper' appearance. There's very little chance I've lost my not entirely accurate `fresh faced innocent' look, my clothes still appear as though they've been tailored, I still have shoes that seem as though they're far too dressy to be comfortable and yet are. Simon once infor med me that I SIT rich, good posture apparently reflecting a high level of social standing. But looking at him, having him looking at me, with all our differences on display, I know that there is nothing in either of our hearts but the gratitude coming from being able to share the simple joy of being in the same room together. Simon winks. My smile warms my entire being. His differences from me are a part of who Simon is, so I can do nothing but love them, and I know he feels the same. I'm still the preppie, and he's still the punk, but none of that matters so long as he's mine and I'm his. The End Right so erm, that's the end. Thanks for like, 'taking the journey' with me and all that. Which I mean more seriously than you might think. Because really, you guys have been incredible with the feedback and the praise, even when I was totally random with posting and even worse with the replying to your e-mails. Thanks so much. I will blow a hole in you the size of god!!!!!!!