Date: Mon, 30 May 2005 21:50:45 -0700 (PDT)
From: Jo Jo <crossingboi2004@yahoo.com>
Subject: Wayward People Chapter 1 "Here Comes The Storm"

Disclaimer: The usual rules apply here. If you aren't legal in your area
to be reading material(non erotic, mind you) about homosexuals and the
activities they may or may not participate in, then please don't read.
This story has been copyrighted and is not to be used elsewhere in any
way without the express permission of the author (that would be me). For
everyone else, enjoy!


Wayward People

Chapter One "Here Comes the Storm"


All I could think was how much fun it would be. Hosting a foreign
exchange student? What luck!

Of course, I had a good deal of nervousness inside me. Hosting a student
meant meeting a new person. And I wasn't so good with people.

For as long as I could remember, which was pretty far back, I'd been like
this. My mother told me that I used to talk to myself all the time when I
was younger. And then one day, early in the morning, around 4am, me, my
little brother Max, and my parents were taking a trip to Washington to
visit family. She told me that my father had come home from working the
graveyard shift at the local airport as an airline mechanic, and was
already tired as it was. Yet, being the talkative four year old that I
was, I didn't know there was a such thing as 'patience'. So I just
talked. And talked. And talked. And talked. Until my dad pulled over the
car, according to my mom, and just yelled at me "Shut up Micheal!"

I don't remember it happening, but there was no doubt in my mind that it
hadn't. Because since then, I haven't really been as outgoing as I once
was.

I don't want to call that a fault of my dads, but it certainly must have
had something to do with why I was so shy now. 12 years later.

Now I was 16 and had been a junior in high school for two months now.

My life was a perfect textbook example of what it's like to be boring,
normal, and live an average life.

Starting with myself, I was average. With my stupid brownish blond hair
that hung over my head in a semi curly mess. Then there was my stupid
boring brown eyes that made my face look like it was lost with the hair
and eye color. Fortunately, I never needed braces or glasses which meant
that I had perfect eyesight and perfectly straight teeth. Another plus
for most people would be that I'd never had an acne problem which meant
that my skin was as clear as a Californian day. Still though, I wasn't
anything too special. I barely weighed 145 pounds, none of which I'd say
was any type of muscle. Boring.

Then there was the town where I lived. Wayward, Nevada. It was actually a
part of Las Vegas, or close enough to it to be considered a part of it.
What's so boring about Las Vegas? Well for starters, I lived nowhere near
a casino. No where near the 'heart' of Las Vegas. No, I couldn't be so
lucky. I lived in the freaking middle of nowhere. Okay, so it wasn't
nowhere. And it definitely wasn't hicksville, either. It's just, when you
think of Nevada, you think of Las Vegas. Any other place just really
doesn't exist.

Finally there were the so called 'residents' of Wayward. Everyone and I
do mean everyone of it's 5,000 residents was religious. There were only
two churches in the entire town. I just so happened to live within
walking distance of the largest of the two. I'd gone to church every
Sunday since I was born. Everyone believed the word of the church. It was
considered a sin to do almost anything here. A lot of people I knew
weren't allowed to do things as simple as listen to a radio unless it was
on Sunday for church. I was lucky to have parents who cared what I was
getting myself into, but not so much they didn't let me do much. I had a
radio. A computer. Britney Spears cd's. All the things our preacher
considered 'tools for corruption'

About that preacher. The guy scared me. His name was Reverend George
Thomas. The guy was about as religious as they came. Every Sunday he'd
preach just about the same thing. That everyone was going to hell except
the members of his church. But there was one subject in particular that
made me uncomfortable whenever he brought it up.

Homosexuality.

I wasn't sure exactly why it made me uncomfortable. It wasn't like I was
gay or anything. At least, I never used to be.

When I turned 15 last year, that was when I started to see certain things
in a whole new light. Members of the same sex, the most significant
example. Usually, I'd always gone about my day, not really paying
attention to guys or girls. But then I started to notice something. I was
actually looking at people for a change. And not the way you look at a
person to see what they're wearing and what they look like. No, I found
myself studying guys, almost. Like I'd notice the usual, but then I'd
find myself wondering what they'd look like naked. Or what it would feel
like to have their lips locked with mine. Or what it would feel like to
have their strong sexy arms wrapped around me in bed. Things that I
should never be thinking.

It was weird for me because, I never thought about girls. Not even to see
if they were girlfriend material. I never really thought about anyone
sexually. But when I did, it just so happened to be guys that I thought
about instead of girls.

At first I panicked. I started looking for a girlfriend. Anyone would
have done for me. Even the ugliest of girls wouldn't have mattered to me.
It wasn't like I had a say in who I wanted to date, as I was just another
random face to most people. No one would find me sexually attractive. And
before that never bothered me. But I found myself needing a girlfriend
because I wanted to prove to myself that I wasn't a sinner going to hell
like the church taught.

I never had anyone. Not one friend. At all. In fact, my brother, who was
a year younger than me, was more popular than I was. So for me to
suddenly be trying to associate with the females at my school, seemed to
be something completely out of character for me. Which was probably why
people had finally started on me.

I guess I should explain that despite me being extremely shy, I'd never
been picked on before. It wasn't like you see on t.v. when a nerd gets
pushed into a locker or bullied by the jocks. Because I'd always kept to
myself, people never really even noticed me. Even my own teachers would
forget my name on a weekly basis, something you'd figure would have them
eventually learn what my name was. Michael Carson.

But when I started trying to make friends with people, particularly the
girls in my school, I guess you could say that the other guys started
feeling threatened. Of what, I wasn't sure. I didn't look better than any
of them. I wasn't stronger than any of them. And they knew it. Especially
one stupid jock in particular, Evan Parker.

Evan was your typical jock. Tall, at a good six feet. Built, with a nice
six pack and pecs that I'd had the pleasure of seeing once in gym class.
And good looking. He had black hair that for as long as I'd known him,
was always kept spiked. Green eyes and perfectly white teeth with a
smooth white face. Perfect. Whether or not he was as brainless as t.v.
made jocks seem........

Still though, once Evan noticed me, he never stopped.

It was probably because I had started trying to make friends with his
girlfriend first. Of course, I didn't know that Sienna Carpenter was his
girlfriend. I probably should have considering the fact that she was
captain of the cheerleading team. Plus she was also the prettiest girl in
school and with only 500 or so students in the high school, it wasn't
hard to pick her out as being so.

She was a redhead, but her hair wasn't your typical shade of red. It was
dark. So dark it almost looked a shade of brown. And it was long too.
Hanging down past her shoulders. She had the most gorgeous blue eyes I'd
ever seen and perfectly rosy cheeks, which were was clear and acne free
as her boyfriends was.

I hadn't even been talking to her really. My locker happened to be next
to hers. She was talking to one of her friends, turned sideways towards
me, ignoring me like she and everyone else usually did, and I had been
studying her for the longest time. Trying to make myself attracted to
her. I don't know why I wasn't. Any other guy would love to go for her.
She had nice sized tits, and because of the highly skin tight shirt she
was wearing, it made them look particularly squeezable. Most people say
two things about white people: they can't dance and the girls have flat
butts. Well I could prove the not good at dancing thing myself but Sienna
had the perfect apple sized ass that Evan, I'd noticed, loved to slap. I
didn't know why I didn't want to slap it. It was so frustrating for me.

Except, I must have been staring a little too long because that was when
the trouble started.

"Hey, cumwad!"

I didn't really respond to the comment because at the time, I hadn't
known that it had been directed at me.

"Hey shit head, I'm talking to you!"

And that was about when I felt Evan's strong hands spin me around to face
him.

And how close we were too. He was no less than two inches from my face.
He looked pissed. Breath smelled like mint, but he looked pissed
nonetheless.

"Uh....I'm sorry?" was my reply.

"You were checking out my girlfriend," Evan replied, hand still firmly
clinched to my shoulder. "And don't think I didn't see you because I
did."

It took me a moment to register that the guy was actually serious. We'd
gone to school together since kindergarten, yet he'd never spoken a
single word to me. And all year my locker had been right next to
Sienna's. I'd actually 'checked her out' quite a few other times in his
near presence too.

So for him to have been paying attention to me on that particular day
must have meant that he was pissed about something, and I was unlucky
enough to have to bear the blunt of his rage.

"Look, I don't know what you're talking about-"

"Hey Evan, don't waste your breath," came the voice of Evan's equally
jocky and shit headed friend, Andrew Norris.

Andrew and Evan were always joined at the hip. And if you happened to
just see them at the mall, you'd have thought they might have been
brothers. They both had spiky hair, only Andrew's was longer and a bit
wilder in fashion. They both were about the same build in terms of muscle
and weight. While Evan had green eyes, Andrew had black. That was the
only real difference between them.

Sadly, everything else, right down to their horrible personalities, was
the same.

Andrew had came and stood beside Evan, making no moves to try and free me
from his best friends grip. By now the people in the halls had turned
their attention to the three of us, including Sienna, who had a somewhat
puzzled look on her face.

One that looked like she was seeing me for the first time in her life,
when we'd shared the same classes since ninth grade.

"What?" Evan asked. "Dude, the guy was seriously macking on Sienna."

Andrew seemed to find that statement amusing because he started laughing
uncontrollably,

"Dude, what's so funny?" Evan asked, looking confused.

That was something I wanted to know the answer to myself.

It took Andrew a few more moments of laughing at something no one else
seemed to find funny before he finally settled down, his eyes locked on
me.

"The guys a total fag," he replied. "He wasn't checking out Sienna."

I was shocked. I didn't know that anyone else had seen that I was gay. I
was still confused about the whole thing so I wasn't exactly sure what
looking, acting, and being gay was. There were no gay people in my school
or town. And if there were, they were in the closet. Because to be gay in
this town meant one thing. Trouble.

Evan turned back to me, making sure to now keep his distance, if only
moving somewhat away from me.

"So you're a fag huh?" he spoke. "No wonder you're such a freak."

I didn't know what to say. I'd never been picked on before and never
really anticipated the day that I'd ever be picked on would ever come,
let alone be today.

No doubt Evan scared the shit out of me. He was huge and could easily
beat the shit out of me. And he was a jock, the most popular one in
school, no less. Which meant that if he started going around telling
people I was gay, not only would any and everyone believe it, but they
would also make it their business to treat me as though I was diseased.
Like I said, being straight was a big thing in this town. Everyone had to
be just that. And it looked as though I was about to be labeled Waywards
very first homosexual.

"Evan," came Sienna's voice.

It looked as though she wanted to interject, but she still made no moves
to do so.

"Sienna the guys a fag," Evan replied. "I'm just gonna handle him like he
should be handled."

I wasn't sure exactly what he was talking about but the only thing that
was running through my mind was me getting smashed to a bloody fucking
pulp!

"No wait, I'm not a fag. I swear!" I objected.

I'd finally found something to say in my defense.

People looked somewhat shocked. I never really talked at school and they
all looked as though they'd just witnessed a miracle seeing me do so.

For a moment, it looked almost like Evan believed me. I mean, it made
sense to ME that I was checking out his girl. I still had no idea how
that idiot Andrew came to the conclusion that I was gay. But maybe Evan
was willing to let it go. I hoped.

But when I saw a slow smile spread across his face, I knew, it didn't
matter if Evan believed it or not. He was a jock and he'd started
something. So to let it go would be against his little popularity code of
ethics, I suppose.

"So what, then you were probably checking ME out," Evan spoke, looking in
the direction of Sienna's locker, where there was a clearly visible
picture of him and Sienna together, smiling.

I turned to see what he meant and was horrified. I couldn't believe this
whole thing was happening. I'd gone 10 years and two months without
getting so much as a 'hey Micheal. What's up?" from anyone, only to have
someone like Andrew ruin everything with a single comment, regardless of
whether or not it was true.

"Look, just let me go alright?" I spoke. "I wasn't checking you out."

"Why because I'm not hot enough for your little fagot ass?"

He went to my church. Matter of fact, so did most of the people in the
hallway at this moment. So for them to be cussing and standing there
watching Evan about to beat me down..........they were such hypocrites.
Always go to church but never really follow it's 'teachings'

"Dude, that's gotta be it!" Andrew laughed.

Andrew laughed at anything, I realized. And they both had way too much
free time on their hands. Passing period was only ten minutes. So for
them to be wasting it antagonizing me was just silly.

All of a sudden however, Evan just slammed me into the lockers nearest us
and pinned me against them.

"Try not to cry like a little fag when I do this okay?" he spoke with a
grin, and then with that he just punched me in the stomach.

Just up and did it. Out the blue. I hadn't done anything to bother him.
And I definitely was no threat to him, everyone knew it. I'd yet to hear
him or Andrew say my name while they had singled me out to be their
little 'fag' experiment.

I keeled over in pain, grabbing my stomach. It was the worst feeling I'd
ever felt in my entire life. I felt like every bone in and around my
stomach had shattered and that one of my lungs, even both, had collapsed,
leaving me with little room to breathe.

I'd fallen to the floor. It was still pretty much silent except for
Andrew's insidious laughter and the slight chuckles emitting form Evan's
mouth.

I didn't see him coming, but he was here now.

My brother.

And he was angry.

"What the fuck is up with you, huh?"

He and Evan were friends. My brother was MUCH MUCH more popular than me
in the one fact that he actually had friends, plenty of them, and I
didn't. He was two or three inches shorter than Evan, but he was also
built. With a swimmers body which made sense seeing as though he was on
the swim team. And though, he and I usually never saw much of each other
at school, today, he happened to be around and seen what had happened.
And now, he was pissed.

"Relax, Max, I was just having a little fun?" Evan replied.

"With my brother?" Max yelled, angrily.

I took that opportunity to get my ass off the ground, standing up about
as best as I could under the circumstances.

"He was checking me out!" Evan replied.

"That's not true Evan and you know it!" Sienna shouted.

I wasn't expecting her to say anything let alone come to my defense, but
she had. It was just a shame she hadn't done anything BEFORE I got the
wind knocked out of me.

Evan's eyes shot over towards his girlfriend, who's arms were crossed in
a defiant manner. It was obvious that she'd had enough of this entire
ordeal.

But he quickly looked back to my brother who was still in his face
huffing with anger.

"You wanna get the fuck outta my face Max?" Evan asked, his patience
testing now. "I said I was sorry."

"No you didn't," Max replied.

Evan looked down at the ground.

"Well then what do you want me to do then huh?" he shouted.

"Apologize to him," Max replied, looking at me finally.

He had calmed down considerably, but I knew him, and he was still upset.
I could tell.

Evan looked over at me while Andrew once again started his laughing.

Max made a move towards Andrew but he quickly shut up.

"Go ahead," Max said.

Evan looked partially humiliated. Like saying sorry to somebody so low as
myself was such a bad thing to have to be doing.

And ordinarily he'd never be taking orders from someone not only shorter
and slightly weaker than him, but a grade lower as well.

But he and Max had been friends for quite a while and he really wasn't
looking to get on his bad side, not over something like what had
happened, anyway.

"Look, man......I'm sorry alright," Evan said.

And he sounded sincere, I had to admit. Even looked it too. But with my
brother and all the other people being around and me being as embarrassed
as I was, I just wanted it all to be over. I wanted to go back to being
the invisible loser who blended in with the walls for the rest of my high
school, and real, life.

I looked around at everyone. First at Sienna who quickly looked away from
me and down to the ground. She looked sorry for one thing. But she also
looked like she wanted to do or say something, but didn't want to risk
affecting her social status. She looked....uncomfortable.

Then I looked over at Andrew who was shooting me a look like 'this isn't
over' when I wasn't even sure if the guy had even seen me before today.
Then I finally looked at my brother who looked genuinely sorry to see
what I'd just had to go through. But he also still looked on the defense,
ready to fight if necessary.

"Come on," Evan said, talking to Andrew."Let's go."

He, Andrew, and Sienna had all walked off, and as soon as they were out
of sight did the other people in the halls start back to life. Most of
them had started power-walking, as they realized they'd just wasted most
of their passing period watching a stupid confrontation rather that
getting to class like they were supposed to.

But after what had happened, I didn't feel like I was up to going to
class. I literally felt like I was going to die. Sure, I may have been
over-dramatizing the situation, but having never experienced being
punched by anyone, I felt like my insides were on fire.

I had since bent down with me hands on my knees to keep me up and felt a
hand rub my back.

"Hey, are you okay?" Max asked me.

No. The answer to that question was no. For more than one reason. Only,
that wasn't the reply I'd given my brother.

"Sure...it's not that bad."

I'd never really lied to my brother before. We were really close and I
considered him my only friend. I could tell him anything and feel like he
was listening. And he'd prove it by later recanting things I'd told him
at a later date. I loved my brother and would do anything for him just
like he showed me that he'd do anything for me.

But because we were so close, he could also tell when I wasn't being
upfront with him.

"Mike-"

"Max, I'm fine," I replied.

"Well, at least promise me that you'll go to the nurse and get checked
out."

Actually, my body seemed to be suggesting the very same thing.

"Max-"

"Just go, Mike."

I didn't want to argue mainly because it hurt enough as it was just
trying to talk so I silently obliged and headed in the direction of the
office.

Once there, I was directed to the waiting room, where I'd have to wait
for the nurse to come and get me.

I didn't mind that so much. If it was gonna be the school's fault that I
was missing class, then so be it.

It just so happened that on this particular day, I'd be the one person
the principal finally noticed as well.

"Oh.....hello," our school principal, Mr. Vanderholt greeted.

He'd just come from out of his office and nearly doubled back when he saw
me.

He actually looked suspicious.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm just waiting for the nurse," I replied.

"Oh.......everything okay?" he asked.

"Yeah. Pretty much. My brother insisted I come here so here I am," I
replied.

Things grew quiet and then I noticed that he seemed to be studying me.
Sizing me up for something. After a good couple of minutes which I felt
was even more unbearable than my throbbing chest and stomach, he finally
spoke.

"What's your name son?"

"Uh...Michael Carson. Sir," I replied.

I had to admit, the guy made me nervous, no doubt. He looked down at his
watch.

"Okay, come into my office will you?"

He left no room for objections as he turned around and headed right back
into his office.

I sighed with annoyance and followed, shutting the door behind me once
inside.

I watched as Mr. Vanderholt took a seat behind his large oak desk, making
a motion inviting me to have a seat.

So I did.

He reached over to a tall file cabinet next to him and started going
through it.

"Ah, here we go," he replied, after a minute of searching "Carson,
Michael."

I couldn't help but feel nervous around him. And slightly curious as to
what his sudden interest in me was.

"It says here that you're a straight A student who's never missed a day
of school, never been late to class, never been suspended or expelled,
and never been written up. Correct, no?"

Realizing that he actually wanted an answer I replied.

"Ah, yes sir," I replied.

I watched as he continued to look over the file.

"But.....no extracurricular activities whatsoever," he replied.

That was true. Everything required associating with new people, something
I wasn't ready to do. Ever.

It was pathetic really. I was sixteen years old and didn't have a job.
The only reason I drove to school was because my parents wanted me to
take my brother, who was still 15 and actually had a job.

I spent most of my time on my computer at home, writing stories. Or
reading books. It was much better for me to imagine worlds with popular
pretty people rather than live in one. In all my stories, I'd made myself
the popular guy. Handsome and charming athlete who was completely
straight. And in the books, I'd always pick ones about teenagers.
Teenagers who were everything I wasn't.

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked.

"Well, it's just that colleges look at two things really. SAT scores and
extracurricular activities," Mr. Vanderholt replied. "Grades aren't the
only thing."

And I was fully aware of that. I planned on going to Harvard or Yale to
get a degree that would require that I not have to interact with a lot of
people, while working on writing whenever I got the chance. Besides book
signing, I'd heard that writers were pretty antisocial people, something

I could completely live with if it came to that. If I ever hit it big
becoming a writer.

"Well, I'm not really interested in any of the extracurricular stuff the
school has to offer, I suppose," I lied, straight up.

Mr. Vanderholt frowned at me.

"You know, you're not that different than I was at your age," he started.
"I was a pretty shy kid too. Great grades, but that was it."

I dreaded the thought that he and I were alike. Then I'd end up stuck in
high school all over again like him as a principal.

"But you wanna know what it was that caused me to change?" he asked.

Actually, not in particular, no.

"What was that, sir?" I asked.

"Being forced to mingle with others," he replied. "See before then, I'd
never actually HAD to talk with others. So I didn't whenever I didn't
have to. Until one day, my counselor suggested I try something new."

He looked me dead in the eyes now.

"And that's what I'm suggesting to you son. Something new."

How did I wind up in here anyway? I just came to see the damn nurse!

"Ah, sir, that's great and all, but I don't really think-"

"You don't think what Michael? That you're ever going to have to
associate with other people?"

Actually, yes.

"Sadly, that's not how the real world functions," he replied. "You'll be
eaten alive if you don't"

The thought scared me.

But at the same time it got me thinking. I hated being lonely. As much as
I told myself that I didn't, I did. The only reason I was alone was
because I'd never taken any risk. I always blamed others for my not
having friends reasoning that if they wanted to, they could always start
a conversation with me first. But at the same time, I was now realizing
that it took two to tango. If I wanted friends and no one was speaking to
me, then I should take it upon myself to make some.

"Would you be interested in trying something new the school is offering?"
he asked.

To be honest I was still afraid, but this was a new school year that had
only been on two months. It was time for change I guess.

"Sure," I found myself replying.

"Great," Mr. Vanderholt smiled. "Because I think it'd be perfect for
you."

"What is it?" I asked, curiously.

"A foreign exchange program," he replied. "Where given the permission of
your parents, you'd take in a student from another part of the world for
the rest of the school year."

An exchange program? I guess this had to be some kind of luck for him to
be offering it to me out of all the other kids in school.

And because of that was the reason why I didn't want to turn him down. It
would be completely rude to do so now, anyway.

I suppose it could be fun. It was the meeting someone new part that had
me worried.

"So what are we talking about here?" I asked.

Meaning give me the specifics.

"Well," Mr. Vanderholt started. placing his specs on his face and picking
up a few papers to examine. "The student would come from Canada. Since
you're a male in the eleventh grade, the student would also be male in
the eleventh grade so there would be more room for a learning
experience."

Uh oh. Male. My age. I was just starting to realize that I might have
been gay and now we were talking getting a guy to come stay at my house.
A guy who could very well be just as bad as Evan or Andrew. Or just as
hot for that matter.

What would I do were I to get attracted to him? And what about my
brother? What would he think of this?

Max was the only one I was really worried about. I was sure that my
parents would be all for this, seeing as though they wished I was more
outgoing as well. They wouldn't tell me no, which meant that this was
actually going to happen. I was actually going to have a Canadian guy in
my home for an entire school year.

"Granted nothings set in stone yet," Mr. Vanderholt spoke, jolting me out
of my thoughts.

"Of course," I replied.

Yes it was. This was going to happen alright. Now I was feeling excited
for some reason. Excited to be meeting someone new.

"Just, talk about it with your parents. See what they say, and then get
back to me tomorrow."

Hosting someone from Canada. Meeting someone new. It felt good to say
that.

***********************************************************************

All of that happened a week ago. As expected, my parents had agreed to
the whole situation right off the bat. Max even seemed okay with it,
although he seemed to be concerned with the type of guy they might have
been sending us.

I had formed my own opinion based on the information I'd gotten. His name
was Troy Hamilton. He was 16 and in the same grade as me. I had no idea
what he looked like. We weren't supposed to send or receive any pictures.
And as far as what type of person he was school wise or personality wise,
that was a mystery to me as well, as all I knew was that in less than ten
minutes, I would be hosting an exchange student.

My family and I were all at the airport waiting for Troy. I had a sign
with his name on it and was standing near the gate terminal while Max was
next to me. My parents were waiting outside in the car for when Troy
showed up.

"I still can't believe you actually agreed to this," Max mumbled.

He seemed to still be wary about the whole situation. He'd always been
more like an older brother to me rather than younger, always looking out
for me. Especially when it came to people.

"Max, just chill alright," I replied.

I had a week to come to terms with it all and realize that it was in fact
happening. It was the first step towards becoming more outgoing. I'd
always wanted it before. Now I was just going after it.

Max sighed and crossed his arms as people started coming off the plane.

I hadn't really been nervous before but now I was especially nervous.
Just realizing that this was ACTUALLY happening was tying my stomach up
in knots.

More people filled out of the plane. I noticed a few younger kids that
may have been around my age get off, but none of them must have been Troy
as they all seemed to move on.

"Where's this guy sitting, the very back?" Max rhetorically asked.

I just wished he'd hurry up and get off the plane so I could meet him
already.

Even more people had gotten of the plane. Max and I waited until there
was literally no one left and we watched as the flight attendants and
pilots filled out one by one.

"Excuse me," Max asked one of the pilots. "Was there anyone else on the
plane?"

"No, we're it son," the pilot replied.

Max looked over at me and my eyes sunk to the floor. He didn't show up?
He changed his mind?

Or what did he get stuck somewhere and was at an airport waiting for the
next flight out?

All these thoughts and more raced through my head as Max and I looked
around.

Sensing my discouragement, Max took it upon himself to start calling
Troy's name, just in case he missed us or we had missed him.

But it was no use. The guy just wasn't here.

"Come on," Max said, pushing me forward slightly.

We had walked over to the ticket counter to ask the two ladies there if
Troy was supposed to be on the flight. They checked but they said that
there records weren't showing anything about any Troy Hamilton's.

I didn't want to walk. I suddenly felt very vulnerable and introverted
just like I'd been before this talk of Troy had popped up. I didn't want
to look at anyone and went out of my way to make sure that I didn't as
Max led me back to where our parents were waiting. There was nothing we
could do about Troy really. The school hadn't given us all the
information we needed. We didn't even have a number to call. At least,
not with us. We really weren't expecting a problem.

And it was over. Troy hadn't showed up and I was left disappointed.

***********************************************************************

As soon as we had gotten back into the car with my parents, it had
started to rain. Not just a little bit, but a lot, complete with thunder,
lightning and all. It rained the whole 45 minute car ride home, which was
pretty much silent after I had told my parents what happened.

And it had been raining since then.

It was just over 11pm and I had been waiting up. For some reason, I was
half expecting Troy to show up at my doorstep any minute now. But if he
hadn't showed up all day, he wasn't gonna show up now.

"Come on," Max said, nudging me slightly. "He's not coming. Let's go to
bed."

As much as I wanted to tell myself that I wasn't tired, the fact was that
I actually was tired. I felt drained for some reason. Like Troy not
showing up drained all my energy. I knew that wasn't the case but that's
what it felt like.

I slowly got up and turned the light off to the downstairs living room
and allowed myself to follow my brother upstairs to my room.

Max and I parted ways upstairs as he went into his room and I went into
mine.

Once inside I just fell in my bed. I didn't get on slowly at all. Just
fell. I felt like crying for some reason, but didn't. Thinking about Troy
not showing up was upsetting me. So I closed my eyes in an attempt to
forget about him.

***********************************************************************

Even with the still raging storm, I'd still managed to fall asleep.
Despite it being very loud, I'd slept. So I found it surprising that I'd
awoke with hearing a loud banging sound coming from downstairs.

Looking over at my clock, I saw that it was almost 2:30 in the morning.

Either the banging was a tree knocking up against something outside, or
someone was trying to break into my house!

I waited, listening for the sound again before I made any moves. When I
heard it repeat, only louder, I jumped out of bed, turning on my light.

I realized it wasn't a tree but knocking. Or banging more like. Someone
was actually banging on our door!

When I'd opened the door to my room, I realized that my family heard the
sounds too, as all of them had come out of their rooms as well.

"What the hell is that?" my dad asked, sounding annoyed.

"Tom, get your gun," my mother said, sounding afraid.

"No, I'll just go see what it is," My very brave younger brother spoke,
heading down the stairs.

"Maxwell wait," My mother replied. "Tom. Michael, go with him," she
replied.

My father, Max and I all made our way down the stairs, turning in a few
lights, including the porch light, which had interrupted whoever was
banging on the door from doing so again.

Looking out the peephole, I couldn't see much, as it was pretty
waterlogged. But I could make out something. A guy maybe......

"Here," Max said, bypassing me to open the door.

"No Max, honey, wait!" my mother called form the top of the stairs.

But he didn't.

He opened the door, and all of us stood staring at a completely soaked
male, about my height and age standing directly in front of us.

"Uh, hi," the guy spoke "This is the Carson house right?"

"Troy?" I asked.

"Yeah," he replied.

"Oh dear god!" my mother shrieked.

She wasted no time in rushing down the twenty steps that led up stairs
and to the front door, pulling Troy inside. Max, dad, and I grabbed his
bags and shut the door before any more water than what Troy's clothes and
stuff had brought in could get inside.

"God, don't tell me you walked here in all this?" My mother asked.

"No, I took a cab," Troy replied.

"Max, go and get some towels from upstairs," my dad spoke.

"I don't understand," I said. "What happened?"

"My flight was delayed," Troy replied. "Because of the rain."

Rain we weren't expecting since no one bothered to check the news
apparently.

"We're so sorry honey," my mother spoke. "We didn't know."

Max handed Troy a couple of towels which he used to dry himself off
starting with his hair.

Appearance wise, the guy was better than I could have ever hoped for. He
was exactly the same height as me. He had dirty blond hair, which at the
moment was a wet mess. From all the lights that were on I could see that
he had light brown eyes. His right ear was pierced and he was wearing an
outfit I'd seen some of the more popular kids wearing at school. Without
jumping to conclusions, the guy seemed perfect.

"Yeah, I had the address so I'd figure I'd take a cab instead of waking
you guys up to come get me," Troy replied.

"Well that was very thoughtful of you," my mother replied.

Yes. That was considerate of him.

"Well it's late and you're soaked," my dad stated. "So why don't you go
upstairs and get dried off, change, and then Michale can show you to the
guest room. We can all talk in the morning."

"Okay," Troy replied.

Everyone gave him final looks and said goodbye before each grabbing one
of Troy's six bags and taking them upstairs.

"Bet you though I wasn't gonna show up huh?" he asked.

"The thought did cross my mind, yeah," I replied, smiling at him.

"Okay, so where's this guest room at?" he asked.

"Oh, yeah," I said.

I took two of Troy's three remaining bags while he took the last one and
I led him the the guest room, which was right next door to my own room.

"Nice place," he spoke. "By the way, I mean."

"Oh, thanks," I replied.

I didn't know why, but I was having a seriously weird reaction to seeing
Troy. And by that I mean a stirring in THAT section of my pants,
especially when he peeled off his soaked shirt and folded it up, followed
by his soaked shoes and jeans.

I turned away so as not to lose it and get a total hard on.

"We'll talk in the morning?" he spoke, peeling back the covers to the
guest bed.

"Yeah," I replied. "In the morning."

I had a good feeling about Troy.

"Night," I said, turning to leave.

"Night," Troy replied.

This was gonna be good for me. Really good.

***********************************************************************

A/N

My second story, the first being Angst, I finally got around to getting
it up on Nifty. I've been really lazy lately, but decided to clean up my
act. Anyway, even though this is the first chapter available on Nifty,
it's not the only one. I have three(soon to be four) more on my
YahooGroup, and if you like the story and want to check them out, the
link is at: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/JoJoPresents-GayFiction/. Angst
is on there as well and another story by me not on Nifty at all called
This World.

Copyright 2005