Date: Mon, 17 Aug 2009 06:18:13 +0000
From: jonathon megerian <jonnymanmeg@hotmail.com>
Subject: The President's Son, chapter 1

Hi. My name is Jonathan, and this is the story of how I came to fall in
love with the president's son.

It started out in early December, 2007. I was a freshman at Brandeis
University and was returning home for winter break. I lived in MA, so it
really wasn't that far of a drive from school to my house. My parents are
divorced, and I live with my mom and stepdad, because my dad is a total
douchebag. I live with my brother, who is 11, and my sister, who is 17.

On my first night back home, my family and I went out to dinner to
celebrate me coming home. We're a Jewish family (although not religious),
and to a Jewish mother, her child completing a semester at Brandeis
University is about as good as it gets--middle aged Jews LOVE their kids
going to Brandeis. At dinner, we enjoyed each other's company and chatted
about the plans for the month.

"Jon, what are you going to do tomorrow?" asked my mom.

"Ehh, haven't really thought about it yet, but hopefully something with my
friends. Maybe go see a movie in Lowell. Who knows."

My mom was about to say something, but my sister cut her off. "Ok no one
cares what you're going to do tomorrow or whenever--what we do care about
is whether or not you picked up any hotties at Brandeis?"

"Danielle, that's none of your business, and besides, you're embarrassing
him...But hypothetically, suppose it was our business, what would your
answer be?" Mom asked, trying to sound like she was above the gossip.

"Well, hypothetically, the answer would be no, I have not been whisked away
by any gorgeous men and am single as always," I replied sardonically.

"Well that's too bad...you're quite a catch," mom said, trying to cheer me
up.

"Well I'm sure he's thrilled to hear that, honey. Maybe you can set him up
with one of your over-50 friends from the temple or your book club. I'm
sure he'd love that," said my stepdad, who was what we liked to call a
"lapsed" Catholic. He was in the military for over 20 years, and over the
past few years that he and my mom have been married, he has slowly gotten
used to the idea of having a gay stepson. But he was still minorly
uncomfortable talking about it out in the open. But he is a cool guy and it
really didn't bother me.

Dinner carried on in a similar manner. After my family was done
embarrassing me, my sister and I joked throughout the meal and made fun of
our parents. Danielle and I had really missed each other a lot, and it was
awesome to be back and see her, although I already missed my friends from
university. Towards the end of the meal, while my mom and stepdad were busy
counting carbs and insulin for my brother (he has juvenile diabetes),
Danielle leaned over and started whispering to me.

"So, did you bring any ice cream back from school?"

"What? Ice cream? What the fuck are you talking about, and why are you
whispering?" I asked in a normal voice.

"Ugh, you're so fucking retarded Jon. Weed. Did you bring any weed? The
weed here is shit and I know your pot is always bomb, so did you bring some
or not." She replied, aggravated that I didn't pick up on her made up code
words.

"Ooohhhh. Yeah I have like a gram on me. My friends at college gave me a
bowl for my birthday, so we can use that. We'll smoke when the retards go
to bed." My sister and I liked to smoke weed together, and whenever we did,
we had to wait for our parents to go to bed so as not to get caught. It's
not as if they didn't know that both of us smoke weed--they did (mom is
pretty socially liberal)--but they didn't know that we did it together. I
would definitely get in trouble for smoking my younger sister up!



Later that night we got high together under the deck, and then headed to
the basement to listen to music and watch TV and do other stoner things. My
sister and I started chatting about random shit as well.

"Have you been following the election?" Danielle asked me.

"Why the fuck are we talking about politics now? I just had a mind-blowing
theory in my head and now it's gone. Damn it!"

"Shut up and tell me. You know you think Brent Laker is hot as fuck. I KNOW
that my fagboy brother is excited about the probable future president
having a sexy openly gay son. You're lying if you say you aren't," She
jibed.

"Yeah, well, you know I support Laker, so yeah I'm following it, and yeah
their kid is hot. But you know that I'm not into that whole idolizing
celebrities thing. So he's gay. I'm gay. No one is taking my picture and
putting it in People and Time. I'd pay more attention to him if he was at
least an activist, but he's not. That's his mom. Now she is the shit. She
totally puts herself out there in support of our community and I think
she's totally where it's at."

"Oh well, Mr. High-and-Mighty over here has too much moral scruples to jack
off at night to Brent Laker. Blow me," she said. It might sound like we're
fighting, but we're not. We both know that we are joking, and we spend our
time trying to come up with better and better insults to toss at each
other.



"Aite, aite...touché. Well done. Yeah, like I said, he's hot, but I
seriously don't spend too much time thinking about him. I'm more interested
in his dad's politics--you know, I think that's a bit more important. But
even still, I already know most of his positions b/c he is our senator, so
I followed him more closely when he was running for senate," I replied. We
let the conversation move on from there, because my sister sensed that I
was going to start seriously talking about politics and was not even
slightly interested.

I wound up going to bed at around four a.m., and woke up the next day at
almost one p.m.

When I cracked my eyes open, I groaned and closed them again, not wanting
to get up. I was compelled to move from the sensation of pee about to
explode out of the end of my morning hard on. I sleep-walked over to the
bathroom, peed, and stood there until my boner went down. I looked at
myself in the mirror, rolling my eyes at my messed up bed hair and the bags
under my eyes that I get after a night of smoking. I examined myself
closer. Because I was about a quarter Armenian, I had tan skin that I
thought was pretty nice. I often got complemented on it, as people thought
I was Italian--people seem to associate Italian with sexy. I had dark brown
eyes and long eyelashes that old women fucking loved. Pretty good looking
face, average body, not very much muscle. I made a mental note to work out
more (this is the same mental note I've been making for about a year and
never fulfilling, but I always said it anyway). I had both my ears pierced
with medium sized diamond studs. Dark, thick, sort of curly hair cropped
pretty short so it didn't look ridiculously curly, as it was apt to do as
it grew longer into a bizarre Jew-fro. I had four tattoos: One on each
shoulder (kanji (Japanese characters) for "brave" and "warrior"), music
from Beethoven's 23 sonata stretching across the middle of my back, and one
that's hard to describe on my right bicep. I personally loved them, as did
all my friends, but my mom didn't share that opinion.

I stumbled out groggily into the kitchen and saw my stepdad at his laptop
on the couch.

"Morning lazy ass. See you decided to get yourself out of bed finally," he
said.

"Morning fat ass. See you decided to burn our eyes out by not wearing a
shirt. Thanks a lot," I jibed back. Again, this was all in good fun. I
loved that my family and I could talk to each other like this. It was
convenient because I absolutely love swearing. I believe swearing is the
healthy outlet to express anger that would otherwise manifest itself in
physical violence. It keeps people a little bit saner.

I went outside for a quick smoke. I should tell you how I came to be
addicted to cigarettes. I lie to my family about my relationship status in
college. One night, I was fucked up way too much. Toward the end of the
night, my "straight" roommate wound up date-raping me. I was fucked up
afterwards, and I went to my friends who smoke and asked for a cigarette to
calm me down. It worked. I loved it, to be honest. From then on, I use
cigarettes to take my mind off the minor Post Traumatic Stress Disorder
that I had developed. Anyway, by this point, I was getting much better and
I was merely smoking out of addiction. Hope that explains it (not excuses
it).

Anyway, I finished my cigarette on the deck, poured myself some cereal and
chilled at the house. At around five I went to meet my friends from high
school at the movie theater in Lowell. It was great to see my friends, and
we all went in to watch the movie and text each other at the same time.
Mature, I know. My friends did not like that I smoked cigarettes, so I made
an effort to not do it around them. During an extremely boring part of the
movie, I went outside the theater and sat on the front sidewalk and smoked
a cigarette. While I was glancing around absent-mindedly I saw a guy
walking up the middle of the parking lot. He was wearing a sweat shirt with
a hood over his head, and he was looking down. I noticed behind him there
were several men following him. But they looked they were there to watch
him. It was odd. He came up to where I was and in the background lights I
saw the men who were following him were wearing black suits. He looked up
at me, and his eyes just caught me off guard. They were literally the most
amazing shade of blue I've ever seen. I was totally mesmerized by them. I
looked over more of him, and his face was beyond hot, I thought.  He
clearly had a nice body under his clothes too. He stopped in front of me
and starting talking, In a voice I thought was perfect.

"Hey, sorry to bother you. I was wondering if I could get a cigarette from
you?" he asked

"Yeah it's no problem, here, yeah I'll give you one...hold on..here" I
stammered out klutzily. He lit it up an inhaled, and I immediately felt an
overwhelming sense of guilt, because he smoked it completely wrong, and I
knew I was giving this kid his first cigarette, something I never really
wanted to do.

"You've never smoked before." I stated matter-of-factly.

"What?"

"You did it wrong, you've never smoked before. You let me give you your
first cigarette."

"So the fuck what?" He started to get annoyed.

"I don't want to get another person hooked on this habit, because it's not
a good one. You might think it looks cool, but you better wake the fuck up,
because it's not. It's gross and hurts and makes you sick. Now, if I were
you, I would put out that cigarette before you actually inhale it
correctly, and never pick one up again." I said after getting pretty worked
up.

He just stared at me, blushed a little bit, put his head down, and dropped
the cigarette to the ground.

"Wow, I can't believe that speech actually worked. I mean I can't believe
you listened to me!" I was shocked.

"Yeah, I guess something about you just got to me." It was an ambiguous
comment, and I could not figure out exactly what it meant.

"Alright," I said, trying to change the subject." Why don't we just pretend
to meet again in a normal way. He and I both laughed at my lame joke.

"Alright...Hi, I'm Brent Laker"

"hey man. I'm Jonathan--wait, what did you say?"

"I'm Brent Laker," he said smiling.

"Oh shit. Holy shit! Oh, um, wow. Ok. What are you doing out here, Brent?"
I said trying to come up with a normal response.

"Well, we live a few towns away from here. We're barely home anymore
because my dad is around campaigning. But we're here now definitely for a
few more weeks, and when he starts moving around again, I might just stay
here with mom. But right now, I just had to get out of the house and do
something on my own, without the constant bombardment from the news and
phone calls and meetings my dad has at the house. Don't get me wrong, he's
a great dad, but sometimes I can't deal with the whole politics scene--too
invasive."

"So, do you go to school around here too?" I asked.

"Yeah, I do. I'm a senior in high school now. You?"

"I'm a freshman in college. On my second day of winter break right now
actually," I smiled.

We made more small talk like that for a little while, and then he asked me
if I was seeing a movie, which I thought to be an obvious question.

"Um, yeah. Do you come to the movies to do something other than watch
movies?" I asked playfully. He just looked down and blushed and laughed a
little. It was so fucking cute, I can't even tell you.

"Well, what I mean is, are you seeing a movie with someone right now?
Because if you're not, I was wondering if you maybe wanted to see one with
me. Plus, you'll get Secret Service to follow you around, which is kind of
cool, the first time at least," he said, nervously at first, but laughing
toward the end. I thought for a minute: I actually was here with friends,
friends who were waiting for me back inside and who might get worried. I
also have friends who happen to think this particular boy is very hot and
would gladly sacrifice their time with me in order for me to be able to
spend time with him. So I decided to say I would love to watch a show with
him. We went inside and found one playing at a close time. While we were in
line for popcorn and sodas, I texted one of my friends inside, telling them
where I was:

	Hey, don't wait up for me. I'm in another movie with someone I met
outside. You will absolutely FREAK when I tell you who it is!

He asked me what I wanted and I just got a small popcorn, whereas he got a
medium one. I got a small soda, and he got a medium one. I saw the total
price and was pissed at how expensive food is at the movies. I was
grumbling to myself about this as I fished through my wallet to hand him
some money. While I was rummaging he paid the whole thing. I looked up and
he put his hand on my hand that was searching for the money, to stop me.



"Please, let me pay for it. It's no big deal, especially after you agreed
to come with me. You don't know me and you could easily have just told me
to fuck off, so this is just a small thank you for not doing that," he said
smiling. I thought it was the sweetest fucking thing ever. I realized that
I was turning into a schoolgirl around this guy, and it was completely
embarrassing. We walked into the theater and sat down toward the back. Not
many people were there, so it was nice and quiet, and we felt almost alone
in the theater.

As the lights went down, we stopped chatting and he put his hands on his
lap. As the movie went on, I noticed his hands migrate. He was moving his
arm behind his seat slowly, and then put it on the back of my seat. I could
tell he was inching his hand up slowly, trying to decide whether or not to
put it on my back. Even though we didn't know each other, except for what
I've seen of him on TV, there was such a strong connection I felt between
the two of us that at that moment, I wanted nothing more than for him to
put that arm around my back/shoulder. I reached around and lightly grabbed
his arm. He immediately froze, tried to pull his arm back, and got
completely embarrassed, thinking I was refusing his advances. I held his
arm firmly, looked him in the eyes, and then slowly moved it onto my back
where I so desperately wanted it. He smiled at me and leaned back, happy
that I wanted the same thing he did. The feeling of simply having his arm
around me was amazing, especially when he began to light rub my shoulder
absent-mindedly (but caringly) with his thumb. And as he was rubbing in
that tiny little area, I knew that there was something special about this
boy.

When the movie finished, he awkwardly removed his arm from my back and
stood up as we got ready to walk out. Outside the theater, he looked at me
and smiled, and I know I gave him a big retarded love-sick grin right back.

"So, I had a really good time, and I was wondering if I could have your
number, because I'd really like to do this again sometime. If you don't
want to that's cool though." Brent sounded like a man who thought he had no
chance, which really blew me away. I personally was amazed that a god like
him was trying hard to get me. Shouldn't it be the other way around, I
thought. So of course I gave an excited "yes!". We exchanged numbers and
hugged quickly as we went to our respective cars. I saw him get into his
limo along with the men who had been following him all night. I got in my
1999 Saab and turned on my phone, displaying the response to my text
earlier that night:

	Who? Are you joking with me or are you actually not coming back?

I dialed her (her name is Amanda) number now that I could talk.

"Hey, where'd you go?" She asked.

"Well, you'll never guess who I bumped into outside the movies while I took
that break." I had an excited tone of voice that she was catching onto

"Who?"

"Brent Laker."

"WHAT? Are you shitting me? You're messing with me you douche aren't you?"

"No I'm totally serious, he lives around here, wanted to get away from all
the crazy politics shit and we wound up just talking for a while outside.
He asked me if I wanted to see a movie with him, and I obviously couldn't
turn down that option," I laughed.

"Holy shit I can't believe this! You went on a fucking date with a guy who
could very well be living in the White House by this time next year!"

"Well, I think it's gunna be more than just one date. We had this total
connection, I don't know what it was, but it was amazing. During the movie
he put his arm around me and it was soooooo romantic and I just loved the
whole experience. After, he asked me for my number because he wanted to see
me again! I'm so fucking excited! I can't believe it," I stumbled over my
own words with excitement and happiness. Amanda was pretty much silent
because she was totally speechless. She then talked about how lucky I was
for another ten minutes and then said she had to go so she could tell all
of our friends. I laughed and hung up and drove home.  On the way home I
had a thought. Do I tell my mother or not? Danielle, absolutely. But
knowing my mom, she would be so excited by something like this that she
would actually become annoying to me. But the side of me that really needed
to brag about this won out, and I decided to just tell them all. They were
all upstairs in the same general area when I got home. My mom said hi and
asked me how the movie was.



"Well, I can't answer that," I said coyly.

"Why not?" mom asked.

"Because I was distracted by the person I was with."

"What do you mean? I thought they were just your high school friends."

"Well that's how it started out, but then during the middle of the movie I
met someone outside when I went out to smoke (eye roll from mom) and met
someone and saw a new movie with them."

"Well who is this person? Did you see a movie with a stranger? Did your
friends know you were doing this?" She was totally confused. It was kinda a
fun game I was playing!

"Brent Laker," I stated simply.

"What?" Danielle cried.

"I met Brent Laker outside. He lives around here and wanted to spend a
night away from the house and all the politics shit. We got to talking
outside, he asked me if I wanted to go see a movie with him and I said
yes. I texted Amanda to tell her what was going on. Anyway, after the
movie, he said he really wanted to see me again and gave me his phone
number."

My family was just staring at me in total disbelief. I smiled and pulled
out my phone, showing them the new entry in my contacts under his name.
This was enough evidence for them, because they started asking a million
questions at once and excitedly rambling on in a way that was totally
unintelligible.

"Look, I told you guys everything that happened. I'll let you know if we go
out again."

"Jon, this is huge news! You're totally downplaying this whole thing!"

"It's not that big a deal. I mean it's pretty crazy, but I guess everyone
meets someone famous at one point. And besides, I highly doubt that this
will turn into anything serious.



Hope you liked it so far. More coming soon! E-mail me with questions
comments etc at jonnymanmeg@hotmail.com