Date: Sat, 17 Sep 2011 12:35:45 -0700 (PDT)
From: Joey Young <untitledlovestory23@yahoo.com>
Subject: Untitled Love Story, Chapter 18

Usual Disclaimers Apply

Author's Note:

I'll make this quick. First to all my readers, sorry for the delayed
chapters. I'm having this problem called 'life'. Hahahaha. No but
seriously, I've just been really busy lately, so please bear with me.

Secondly and most importantly, I would like to thank all of my readers and
Lisa for your continued support and admiration. Without you these stories
would not matter to anyone. Thank you.

-Joey Young

Untitled Love Story

Chapter 18

"Colleges?" I asked as I laid on the floor. "Really?"

"Yes," my mother insisted. "You need to start looking, before its too
late."

I sighed and stared at the large pamphlets my mom handed me. Dante chuckled
beneath me. His chest sending vibrations throughout my body. I turned my
head on his chest and smiled at him.

"Why can't I just take a year off and see how this cancer thing pans out?
Rich kids do it all the time."

My mom frowned, "You have to be rich to be spoiled, Cale. Its not so easy
for the middle-class."

I groaned and threw the pamphlets to the side, "That's not fair."

"Yeah, its not," my mom agreed and pointed to the pamphlets. "Just look
them over. . . . William is taking me to work, so the car is yours
today. Kay?"

"Kay," I replied and got up from the floor, where Dante and I were laying.

"How are you today?" my mom asked as she noticed my buoyant behavior.

I looked to her in confusion.

"I'm fine. Better than ever, actually."

She moved to stand in front of me and started to check my vitals. She
peeked beneath my eyelids, checked my pulse, and gently massaged my throat.

"You should conserve you energy, Caleb," she warned as she brushed her
fingers along my face. "The IL2's will take a lot out of you and you'll
need your strength to combat the symptoms."

I sighed and smiled affectionately at my mom.

"Mom," I replied. "I'm fine, okay? I have my medicine. I have
you. Dante. William. I probably have the best healthcare in the state."

Her eyes tightened, "Well make sure to take your medicine before you leave
okay?"

"Okay," I agreed and patted her shoulder. "You'd better get going. William
is probably outside waiting."

She sighed once and nodded.

"Bye, Dante," my mom said with a smile, before disappearing out the door.

"Bye," Dante whispered and smiled at me. "So, do you ride with me today or
separate cars?"

I crouched to pick up the pamphlets and turned to face him.

"Do you have practice tonight?" I asked.

"Till six, then I'll come straight over."

"Well we can go separately. I still have to pack before we leave Sunday,
anyways."

He grinned and jumped to a standing position, only taking a second to do
it.

"I thought you packed Wednesday?"

"Kinda," I replied sheepishly and squeezed my fingers together,
illustrating my point.

He laughed and pulled me towards him. My hand rested on his hard chest. He
eyed me with a little judgment.

"What? Justin took Stace and I to that car show, remember? Then I was too
lazy to pack afterward."

His grin widened, "We only have today and tomorrow to pack. You do know
that right?"

"Yes, and you keep reminding me."

"And good thing I did. I should've reminded you earlier."

I laughed and pulled out of his arms, "Yeah, yeah. We're gonna be late,
come on."

I grabbed his hand as he chuckled lightly, "Procrastinator."

I smiled and towed him out of the room for school, forgetting all about my
pills.


				~*~

The yearbook committee was probably the most chaotic and energy charged
committee in the school.

And it was run by just that kind of teacher; Mr. Carlson. He was tall and
skinny with a deep voice and a quirky personality.  He wore a pair of thin
sleek glasses that always slid down the bridge of his nose, no matter what
he did. All the students loved him, but I personally didn't have a class
with him.

And now as I walked towards his classroom, which housed the yearbook
committee, I couldn't help but feel awkward. I reached for the door, only
to have it pulled from my grip as two students walked out.

They both held digital cameras, which were tied to their necks with small
straps. They wore determined expressions on their faces and gave me a
fleeting glance, before they walked around me.  I watched as they bounded
down the hall, in search of the next yearbook exclusive.

I walked through the door and awkwardly stood at the threshold. I glanced
around the fairly large sized room and saw a lot of movie posters lining
the walls. Each one quirky and popular. Students moved back and forth
between groups all carrying something. A group of students crowded around
the three available computers, all typing and clicking furiously. I gulped.

"Mr. Pierce or should I call you Caleb?" a deep voice stated as I clung to
the doorframe.

I turned at the sound of my name and saw Mr. Carlson walking up to me. He
smiled broadly and I could feel his positive attitude wash over me. It was
contagious and I couldn't stop myself from smiling back. I pushed my
messenger bag to my back and shook his hand.

"Please call me Caleb," I replied.

"Excellent," he exclaimed and pulled me to an open desk. "I bet your
wondering why I called you in here.

Right?"

I shook my head, making him chuckle deeply.

"Well let me tell you, first off, I pride myself as an artist," he
continued and pulled up a chair to the desk.

"I like to capture rare moments with photos, especially miraculous rare
moments."

He stopped and stared at me expectantly. I frowned in confusion.

And he went on, "Well like I said, I believe my photos are art. Still
images, are my calling, and it's a treat to have this school as my
subject."

He grinned and sighed heavily.

"I'm a very busy man, Caleb," he said his face aging remarkably. "And
please feel free to turn down my offer; it was just an errant thought."

I watched as he grabbed the bridge of his nose. Oh no, I thought. He's
going to ask me something about my cancer.

"Ummm...."

"Oh, yes!" he burst like a wind-up toy. "I'm sorry; sometimes I lose my
train of thought. The offer. Well as you can see, I run a pretty good
yearbook committee."

I smiled and glanced around the classroom.

"It's, ver--"

"Well I was hoping," he said, interrupting me, "that you would become my
new subject. Well not my subject per se, but my muse of sorts."

He frowned and stared at my confused expression.

"You see, my very prying students have taken a few photos of you," he
answered.

I blinked in shock.

"Oh, there not bad or anything," he responded quickly. "Actually their
quite good, but the thing is I felt we need your permission to use them,
since . . . . . well . . . . . you know. . ."

Ahhh, I thought sadly. The cancer awkwardness rears its ugly head again.

"My condition," I finished for him and he nodded.

"So you see?" he asked enthusiastically.

I thought about it for a moment, but it didn't stop him from speaking.

"Its just the photos are very well taken," he continued, like he was trying
to sell me his vision. "They capture your raw emotion. My students even
surprised me with their depth, but their amazing I tell you."

"What would you use them for?" I asked openly.

He smiled tenderly and wagged a finger at me.

"I knew you were smart," he complimented. "I was hoping to make a section
in the yearbook, just exclusively for these photos, since there so full of
emotion. We're calling it, 'Requiem of a Fallen Angel'."

I noticed the name angel and tightened my eyes. He noticed.

"The name too risqu‚?" he asked, misinterpreting my expression.

Quickly I shook my head, "No, no. The name is apropos, its just a distant
memory I have."

His face instantly relaxed and he smiled.

"You're very mature for a teenager," he commented. "Its very refreshing."

"Thanks?" I asked unsure how to take that comment.

He nodded and smiled winningly, "So back to the idea. What do you think?"

I sighed and glanced around the busy room. I hated the idea of being the
center of attention, especially since I felt so alienated in school for
both being gay and having this rare disease. He stared at me expectantly
but I ignored him and thought thoroughly for a moment. I loved the concept,
but why me? I could never understand the fascination people gained, when
they encountered me. I was however, thankful for the flattery.

I took a small breath and looked back at him. Instantly he smiled, already
knowing my decision.

"Alright," I breathed shakily. "But..."

"But?" he asked his eyebrows knitting in concern.

"I would like to choose which photos you use," I replied and looked at him
solemnly. "If that's okay with you."

Quickly he huffed in relief.

"That sounds reasonable," he answered. "I can get you copies today, and
just bring them back to me after Spring Break."

I nodded and he got up and moved to the group of kids at the computers. He
whispered to them hurriedly and they immediately began to click through
files. I sighed and slid my bag onto the desk, to wait for him patiently.


				~*~

The pictures were magnificent.

Mr. Carlson had given me about two hundred prints of photos, each one with
me as the subject. He had told me to make any changes or alterations I
needed. And now as I looked at them I couldn't see any way to change
them. They had captured everything from my friends and Dante to the subtle
little looks I had.

The floor of my bedroom was covered with all the photos along with a pair
of scissors and a pillow I sat on. I smiled at every new picture, hoping I
could take my own copies home. There were vast amounts of black and white
prints, showing me at lunch, on campus, social events, and walking to
class. I laughed a lot too, whenever they caught the hijinks of Dante and
Justin behind me doing whatever.  And how Stacey looked beautiful as the
photos caught her talking to me or sitting with Justin beside me.

Dante was also a prominent figure in the photos. They had captured us in
the most intimate moments, which we had thought were private. A picture
showed us sitting on a picnic bench, fingers intertwined, whispering
quietly. Dante was handsome in black and white and I was surprisingly happy
in the frozen moment. I was smiling and had my head resting on Dante's
shoulder as we talked.

I flipped to the next photo, my smile still evident, when I froze.

Golden features were strikingly evident in the photo, which had my heart
aching. Drew. He was smiling warmly at me his long thin muscly arms crossed
as we spoke. We were sitting at a picnic table, totally in another
world. His hair caught the sunlight and glinted like golden threads, while
my brown hair flashed a dark maroon. I sighed and grabbed the scissors.

I shuddered as I grabbed the picture from the floor. My hand slowly began
to shake as I tried to cut the picture. I focused my whole hand on that one
side of the glossy paper, trying to make the cut straight. I gasped as the
scissor cut diagonally and severed the picture in half.

"Shit," I breathed.

I forgot to take my medicine this morning.

I exhaled in frustration and threw the pictures and tools to the side. I
grunted as I heaved myself up from the floor. I wobbly moved to my
bathroom, my hand shaking as I twisted the doorknob. I took a clumsy step
into the bathroom and made my way to my sink, where my bottles of medicine
stood in a neat little row.

I coughed once, and inhaled a shaky breath. I breathed through my nose and
stood erectly, hoping my throat would stop itching. I coughed again and
reached for the third bottle, only to see it was the wrong bottle. I turned
my head to the side and coughed into my shoulder, before reaching for the
first bottle.

It was the right one.

My fingers could barely get a hold on it as I tried to open it with just my
palm. My hand was frustrating me as I tried to keep calm. I twisted the top
repeatedly with my palm, wishing it would just open, but it stayed
stubbornly closed. I shook my hands out and tried to open it again. Still
no results.

I ground my teeth in anger. My hands were really starting to shake now. I
grunted softly and took a huge breath before I attempted the bottle
again. Finally, it came undone and popped open. I slowly took the lid off
and placed it on the lip of the sink.

My fingers quivered, but I managed to do that just fine. I titled the
bottle on its side and shoved a finger inside, hoping for a few
pills. Instead I found nothing but emptiness. Angry tears of frustration
sprung in my eyes.

"Shit!" I cried and threw the empty bottle into the sink.

I felt weak. Weaker than I ever felt before. It must be the IL2's. They
took everything out of me and only the medicine helped. My mom warned me
this morning, but I didn't listen. I clutched at the sink and weakly turned
around. With one quick shove I stood myself up and shuffled to the door.

My feet barely carried me back to my bed, where I fell onto it, fully
exhausted. I'll just wait, I thought reasonably and laid on the bed. I'll
just wait. Dante will be back soon.


				~*~

"Hey," Dante said as he walked through my bedroom door. "There you are."

"How-how wa-was practice?" I asked, stuttering a bit.

He noticed my limp form on the bed. With a very strong effort I heaved
myself up into a sitting position, hoping to seem normal.

"Great," he replied enthusiastically, but his face showed concern.

"Mmm?" I asked the effort of moving taking too much.

He moved across the room and leaned down to kiss me. He still smelt like
sweet sweat.

"You?" he asked noticing my pitiful effort at kissing.

"My day-my day was fine," I replied sarcastically as I pushed myself to get
up. "I, uh, jus waited for someone to come home and check on me."

I moved across the room and picked up my glass from my computer desk.

"Then when that didn't happen, I drove to the clinic myself," I continued
as I sensed him get up. "And I waited three hours for a prescription."

I sluggishly made it to the bathroom and filled my glass up with water. He
stood next to me trying to offer some help. I shrugged him off.

"And then I went to the pharmacy to get the prescription filled, but the
pharmacy was closed," I replied with an empty laugh. "So, no luck."

I shouldered out of his embrace and rummaged in my medicine cabinet for
painkillers. They didn't do much but numb my headache.

"Are you okay?" He asked quietly as my hand shook, trying to open the
bottle.

I turned and looked at him, "Don't I look okay?"

He frowned and took the bottle from me.

"No, not really."

He shook out two pills for me and closed the bottle back up.

"You know, I waited until 6," I said as my hand shakily brought the pills
to my mouth. "I waited because that was when practiced ended for you right?
I mean, my clock must be wrong or something. Right?"

His eyes saddened.

"Tilden wanted to show me his new car and we lost track of time."

I waved my hand shakily and downed the glass of water. He quieted for a
moment while the pills slid down my raw throat.

"You think maybe you've had enough?" He asked gesturing to the almost empty
bottle of painkillers.

I closed my eyes and breathed deeply through my nose.

"Nope, I don't, but maybe you have."

"Excuse me?" He asked in disbelief.

"Tell, me Dante, what exactly is it about me that's so desirable?" I asked,
the pills making me heady.

"There must be a hundred girls or guys lining up for you right now."

"Well I'm not interested in those girls or guys."

"Why not?!" I practically screamed at him. "Go out with that sexy, limber
ex-girlfriend of yours. What was her name? Amber. Or just, you know, I
don't know, a normal person, whose not sick!"

He glared at me and shook his head.

"Well I happen to want you."

"Why?!?" I yelled. "Why?! What are you trying to prove?!"

"I mean you've got to realize that you can't be the good person if you
pity-date the sick dying boy, right?"

"I know it's the pills talking," he replied coolly. "This isn't you."

I stared at him evenly and he stared back just as coldly.

"All right," he said seeing my eyes spinning. "We're going to get you some
medicine. All right?"

I moved away from him angrily and suddenly knocked over my glass of
water. It shattered loudly against the floor.

"Ahhhhhh!!!" I cried out in anger.

My voice screeched in pain and I collapsed on my knees. Why was I always
breaking things?

He sighed sadly as I started to cry on the floor. My hands slapping against
the tiled floor. My voice hitched and I kept hearing this tearing noise
that radiated from my chest. He leaned down and placed his arms around my
shoulders.

I tried to move out of his grip, but he diligently urged me into his
arms. I silently cried into his chest and grabbed his arms tightly. My
crying turned into soft wails.

"We're going to Italy, love," he breathed as I continued to cry. "You can
take a break. You deserve one."

"I'm so tired," I whispered brokenly, which made him tighten his arms
around me.

"I know, baby, I know," he whispered back passionately. "Let's just get you
some medicine, okay?"

I slowly shook my head, "I'm too tired. Can I just sleep for a while?"

I looked up at him, my eyes drooping a bit. The painkillers were making me
drowsy and disjointed.

"Okay," he replied softly and lifted me into his arms.

Silently he carried me back to the bed and laid us both on the spongy
mattress. I curled up into his chest and rested my ear on his steady
heart. It was loud and healthy, not like mine, which sputtered and thudded
softly. He watched me surreptitiously and caressed my face with his free
hand. His thumb traced small patterns on my face as I started to drift off.

"I'm sorry," I whispered as I opened my eyes to look at him.

"It's fine," he responded smoothly. "Can I ask you a question, though?"

"Mmm?" I mumbled, my thoughts jumbled.

"Will you come to Italy with me?" he asked quietly, just before I went
under.

I smiled dopily and kissed his palm.

"Of course, Dante," I replied, stifling a yawn. "Of course."

I heard him sigh once in contentment, before I dosed off in his arms,
finally succumbing to the painkillers.


				~*~

"Did you remember your carry on?" My mom asked hurriedly as she rushed
about the living room.

She had been called into work and I was just about to leave to the
airport. I sighed affectionately at her and stood up from the arm of the
sofa. I extended my arms and stopped her from her hectic flurry of running
around.

"Mom?" I called to her as she stood in my arms.

"Hmmm," she mumbled as her arms wound tightly around me.

"I got everything, I need. Don't worry, okay?"

"Mmm, hmm," she mumbled again and sniffed.

I breathed quietly and pulled her tighter. We had never once been separated
since I was a child and to do so now was a big step for her. Her sniffs
slowly morphed to sniffles, but nothing more. Still she kept her hold as if
the separation would create a laceration between us.

"You're going to be late," I breathed softly, my voice wavering under the
tension.

She nodded silently and pulled away rigidly. She smiled a tearful smile and
kissed me on the cheek, before she grabbed her purse from the table near
the door. She stopped a moment and turned to wave at me once, and then she
was gone. I sighed in relief. Slowly I moved from the middle of the room to
the stairs, where my luggage was sitting. I grabbed the smallest bag and
diligently tried to lift it without success.

Since I had taken the IL2's all my strength had been zapped from me. It
took the greatest effort just to move a chair across the room and even
walking wore me out. But today I had taken my strongest medications, which
was saying a lot considering my condition. Now as I tried to move my
luggage, it seemed the medicine was wearing off. I growled in frustration
and plopped down on my largest luggage.

Where was Dante?

Suddenly as if on cue the door chimed once. Immediately I jumped up and
smiled. I grabbed the small bag and was pleased to see my strength
cooperate. I yanked it from its place and carried it to the door. I quickly
grabbed my phone near the door and answered the bell.

"Finally, what took you so lo-"

I froze and dropped the small bag, my legs giving out from me. His piercing
blue eyes stared at me in shock and concern. But before I could fall, his
strong, lean arms grabbed me and cradled me to his chest.

I huffed in pain. In surprise. And in longing. He smelt so good and felt so
warm.

"Cale, you okay?" his silky voice asked, making me sigh in recognition.

Gently I pulled away and stood up, my head a tornado of blurring thoughts,
memories, and touches.

"What are you doing here?" I asked as leaned against the doorframe.

I hadn't had this much adrenaline and excitement in a while. It was
disorienting.

Drew watched me in concern as I held my side, his long thin hands inching
forward in case I fall. He looked different.... He looked good. His hair
was much shorter than the last time I had seen him. It was almost military,
but in his own way. The sides were cropped short, but the top was a bit
longer and waved gently over his head. His face was also harder. Leaner
with muscle. He looked like a man, no longer a boy.

He looked like he knew what he wanted. Like he came her for only one
thing. And that thing was what he was staring at. I gulped and forced my
legs to stay locked in place.

"I came to see you, Cale. What else?" he replied with honesty.

I groaned internally. I knew he was going to say that.

"Haven't we settled this already?" I whispered back, waiting for a rebuff.

He smiled widely, making him look so much like a man. I looked away,
already feeling my heart aching at the memory of his warm smile. The Drew
door thumped loudly along with my heart. Ba-bump, ba- bump, ba-bump. And I
felt like he could hear it as he stared at me.

"You have to go," I whispered again, this time urgently.

And he really did. He needed to leave before I pulled him back in again and
before I had him believing MY lie again.

"Please, don't run away from me," he growled with his best Drew smile,
which quickened my heart.

"I'm not," I replied breathlessly, my voice betraying me.

He gently leaned in and brushed his fingers against my forearm, making the
ends of my hair stand up.

Slowly our heads began inching toward each other unconsciously. His blue
eyes held me in a gravitational pull that was all-consuming and total.

"Cale, stay with me," he whispered, his sweet breath washing over
me. "Sweetie, please stay with me."

I shuddered and rested my forehead against his, my hands shaking with the
internal struggle I was experiencing.

"I can't," I replied heartbrokenly.

My hands fluttered uselessly against his chest. I so badly wanted to push
him away in that instant, but the months of separation from him also made
me want to hug and keep a hold of him. To never let his warmth fade. He
sighed heavily and moved his head downward, making my lips connect with
his. I whimpered in pain and longing, my voice vulnerable and weak. Softly
he began to kiss me slowly, making me sigh with each breath.

His lips were warm and firm, shaping around my pliant ones. I closed my
eyes and could literally feel the eternal connection I had with Drew. I
could taste his lips, which were sweet with a distinct spice to them that
only Drew had. He continually brushed my bare skin beneath the hem of my
shirt and caressed my face, while his lips curved lightly against mine. The
only thing my thoughts kept telling me was that Drew was really here. Here
with me, not in a dream or an errant memory. But really here, holding me.

Suddenly my mind made that mental connection with Drew and Dante, making me
pull away painfully.

"I can't. I can't." I chanted quickly.

He frowned as I pushed him away and backed into the house.

"Please just go," I whispered, avoiding his gaze. "Dante will be here any
moment."

His frown just deepened and he stopped me from closing the door.

"So, it's true then," he murmured brokenly, only making my heart ache
more. "You're going to Italy with him?"

I nodded numbly and looked at the hand holding the door.

"Today," I whispered.

But to my utter disbelief he didn't get angry or put on a guarded
mask. Instead he just nodded silently and clapped his hands together, like
he had figured something out. I stared at him in confusion.

"When will you be back?" he asked with a determined expression.

"After Spring Break. Why?"

He laughed once and grinned to himself.

"Nothing," he replied quickly and looked at me. "Just promise me one thing,
alright?"

I was about to shake my head, but he suddenly placed his hands on my
face. He held it in his firm grip.

"For me, Cale. Just promise, for me. Okay?"

His eyes were undeniably clear. Like blue crystal glinting with light.

I sighed, "Fine, I promise."

He smiled, "Good."

I waited for him to say something more but he didn't. Instead he just
stared openly at me and smiled affectionately.

"That one thing?" I reminded him.

He grinned crookedly and released me. His warm touch left a chilling
absence on my skin, but I shook it off.

"When you get back," he started. "I want you to come with me on our own
vacation."

I frowned at him.

"It's hardly necessary to-"

"Please, Cale, don't think. Just do."

I could feel the time slipping away. Dante would be here at any moment. Why
did Drew always have to add complexity to our reunions? I groaned and
nodded absently.

"Okay."

He grinned widely and grabbed my cold, limp hands. He used it to pull me
close. Abruptly I pulled away and held up a hand.

"You need to go, Drew. Dante will be here soon."

He was still too excited with my approval, to even get angry, so he just
nodded and kissed my palm.

"I love you, Cale." he said, before he bounded down the stairs.

He pumped his fist once in exhilaration and got into his truck. He waved
happily, before starting the engine and driving away. I watched as he drove
away, noticing the morning sun bounce off the blue paint of his truck. I
turned then and pulled out my bottle of medicine. I popped a couple in my
mouth and smiled, just as Dante's silver car pulled up.

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