Date: Sun, 25 Jul 2004 21:16:16 -0400
From: T.K. Walters <writtenbyachild@hotmail.com>
Subject: All For Him, Chapter Two (Revised)

ALL FOR HIM
By MKP


Chapter Two


I woke up before Pete.  It's always like that.  Usually, every school day I
have to wake him up or else he sleeps until 9:00.  Although some days it's a
pain, I never complain.  When he's at his hardest to bring to reality, I get
to pull the covers off of him.  And since he is a very, very virile boy, I'm
usually greeted by a tent.  This time is no different.

Well, it was a little different.  We were top to tail in my bed, him the
tail and me the top, and the covers were already off of him.  Pete was on
his side, his back toward me.  The clock didn't ring yet and the sky was
still pitch black.  So, I grabbed the sheets, which had fallen on the floor
of my side, and settled down in the same position as Pete.  I was extremely
hesitant to touch or wake him by moving the bed, but I had to move.  My body
was mere inches away from him and I couldn't resist but take in his smell.
It's not a bad smell, like I said, he never smells.  I took a deep breath.
My memory rolodex shuffled and I could see all the times I stole his
wonderful scent.  He smelled sweet and there was always a minute tinge of
spiciness to it, like a boy on the verge of manhood after a day.  His scent
rocked me back to sleep and as it took me in its arms, I was left with a
dull raking at the pit of my stomach.
__________

"Nick?" Pete's voice called as I wafted in and out of consciousness.
"Kiddo, wake up!"

I blinked, my eyes adjusting to the light that flooded the room from the
open windows.  His scent had left me and I opened my eyes to see where it
went.

Pete sat in front of me, crossed legged and naked but with boxer briefs
holding him.  I could smell the hints of soap that came from his knee, which
was the closest to me.  But that didn't really interest me.  What did was
the fact that he was "cupped" so tightly in his white undergarments that
every single line and shadow was shown, and it made me blush.  I sat up and
rubbed my eyes.  They were still foggy from sleep and the only way to get
them to open was to think of Pete in those boxers.

"Pete?  Um, what time is it?" I asked him, still a bit dazed.  I thought
that I had to change the subject or else I would get hard, but it was too
late, I reached peak growth from body functions that didn't mean anything
other than I needed to take a piss; not at all meaning that I was dreadfully
queer for Pete.  I tried to contain it in my boxers by laying it against my
pubic bone and pushed by the elastic of the fabric.  I knew Pete saw me by
the way he stared at my hands and crotch.

"Um," he said as he tried to look away, "It's 10:38."

I turned around to where he looked and saw that the clock did say it was
half passed ten.  "Uh, Pete?  Aren't we late?" I asked calmly.

"Yeah," he said, as he copied my tone, "we are."

"Aren't we gonna do something about it?"

"Like what?"

"I don't know!  You're the one with the car!" I said, my voice sounding
desperate.

Pete chuckled at me and then laid down.  His arm shot out and pulled me down
with him.  My head rested on his chest, which he made sure of by keeping his
hand firmly at the base of my neck.  It was slightly uncomfortable, but I
could stand it since his scent appeared again, if not just slightly.  He let
go of my neck after about a minute or two and began to run his hands through
my brown hair.

"I don't really wanna go to school, do you?"

I looked up at him and saw his big eyes looking down at me.  He smiled his
half smile, the right part of his lips lifting.  There was no way I couldn't
agree with him so I shook my head and moved my head back to where he put it.
  Pete went back to breathing quietly.  A minute passed and his hand moved
smoothly down my shirt right to where it met my boxer shorts.  He tugged it
up slightly and exposed my skin to the cold air, created by the March air.
I couldn't see what he was doing but I felt his fingertips as they dragged
up and down my flesh.  All this movement gave me goose bumps.

"Sit up," Pete commanded after, yet another minute.

When I sat up, he pulled off my shirt and made me lay down on my back.  It
was kinda uncomfortable since I was used to a pillow so I asked him to get
me one.  With the pillow under my head and finally content, Pete straddled
my hips-but he didn't touch me-and stared down at me with his green eyes.
His silver necklace landed and shocked me from the static we produced moving
around the sheets.  I let out a yelp and he smiled.  He must've realized it
was in the way but he didn't take it off.  Instead, he just swung it around
to his back.

"Take it off," I told him.

He shook his head and gave me a look that said, `You must be kidding!'  It
rested behind his back, away from my sight but I couldn't help but think
about it.  That was until I felt him move his crotch against mine, bring
both him and myself to arousal.  His breath was warm and the room was
slightly cold; his breaths created tunnels of warm air that floated down and
landed on my chest.  His pressure was on mine and all that was separating us
was two separate pieces of cloth.

Pete looked down at me and asked with that smile and glare of his, "How's
that case of blue balls?"

"What?" I asked him, appalled yet amused.  I'm sure it showed because I was
smiling.

He returned the grin and pushed his crotch back against mine, creating
horrible friction that made me ache.  Before I could help it, I popped out
of my boxers and was exposed to Pete's hybrid undergarment and my worry.  I
heard him chuckle because I was staring down at my dick.

I laughed sheepishly and said, "Sorry, it's you're fault!"

"You know that's right," he replied as tried to take off the last piece of
protection I had.  I lifted my butt off the bed and let him slip them off
while I took his away from his firm ass.  I touched one of his ass cheeks
and glided my hand over the peach fuzz that was there.  I moved my head
around his so I could see what I was touching.  Surprisingly enough, it was
as tan as the rest of his body but I decided not to ask why, albeit a
different course of my curious nature.

Somehow, I felt weird about touching him there at the moment and as I
watched my hand shift closer to his most intimate of regions, I backed out
at the last second.  Instead, I traveled back up his body and let my hand
rest on the small of his back.  I scratched that area softly and I was able
to create a moan from my motions.  Pete rested his head on my neck and
purred after I stopped scratching and slid my hand between us to play with
his slight treasure trail.

In my ear, he whispered in the smallest voice, "Where'd you learn that?"

His ear was next to my lips and I slightly bit his earlobe and then said,
"Cosmo."  Although I said it quite seriously, he laughed.  After that, I
stopped with his ear, my hand grabbed his dripping penis, most of which had
flooded my crotch, and began to stroke him with a feather touch.

Again, in a whisper, he leaned in and said, "Tease."

I told him to get on his side so we can work on each other at the same time
but he refused, saying he doesn't like it ever to be at the same time.

"Forget about me for now, let me work on you," he told me.  He shifted half
of his weight onto his shins and then on my thighs.  In this position he was
able to jerk me off without the threat of being hit by my cum.  He was
staring down on me and I looked straight down at his crotch, which began to
produce precum that would eventually act as lube when he took my dick in his
hand.  He moved so slowly and held me tighter than he had yesterday.  As he
got to the tip, I could see my own precum form at the tip before it filled
up and slid down my dick, mixing with Pete's juices as well.

"You sure do have a lot of that," I told him as I watch his precum fall onto
my thigh, where his dick was hovering at the moment.  I didn't exactly call
it that since I didn't really know what it was.

"Yeah, does it bother you?"

I shook my head and then watched as another one string touched me, again.

"You have it, too," he said as he wiped a little off the tip of my dick and
coated my hot dickhead.

"But not as much."

"Of course, you're two years younger than me.  Give it time.  Besides, why
do you want to have as much as me?

I enjoyed what he was now doing with his hand as it gripped it much less and
just slid his hand up and down, riding the coat of precum.  After I caught
my breath, I told him, "It's pretty cool, is all."

He smiled at me and then said, "Most girls don't like it when they go down
on me; they say that it tastes weird."

Just as soon as I heard that he had a blow job, I yelled, "Stop!  I'm gonna
shoot!"

Immediately, he stopped moving and just watched me as I tensed up and tried
to hold back the flooding dam that was building inside my dick.  Squeezing
my muscles as hard as I could, I was able to hold back.  After a minute, I
eased up and let out a strained breath.  Through my closed eyes, I could
hear him laughing at me.

"You're not very well trained, are you?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, you have a hair trigger.  I just touch you and you start to spasm."

Coyly, I smiled and said, "It's weird being next to you.  You know?  I mean,
I guess you wouldn't; but still, being next to you makes a few people feel
very inadequate."  It slipped out before I realized what I just said and he
looked at me, slightly hurt.

"I don't try to make people feel that."

"I know, sorry I said that but you know what I'm talking about.  You're,
like, so exceptional that most people fade away when you walk up and trust
me, that's a good thing."

After I assuaged his mind, he smiled and then asked, "Ready for round two?"

Approving of what he was talking about, I let him work my body again.  I
closed my eyes just took in the sensations.  His hands touched every ridge
of me, every vein, and every cell.  I felt him warming me up, from outside
to the in, and exuberance filled me.  It took less then a minute before I
started to cum, blowing out wads of white cream onto my body.  It was
meager, just enough to draw a line from the middle of stomach, in my
bellybutton, and to the tip of my dick.

"We need to work on that," Pete said to himself.  He faced me, narrowed his
eyes, and smiled.  To my disappointment, he didn't taste me as he had tasted
himself that first time.  Instead, he used my old boxers to wipe me off.  He
moved off me and sat crossed legs; he ran his hands down my balls.  They had
gone into my body earlier but now they started to descend.  Once passed
them, he touched my perineum, his fingers grazing the line of nerves that
were there.  The afterglow of just achieving orgasm was still on me but this
movement stirred my dick again.
__________

We ended up having at least three leisurely jerk-off sessions that day
before Dad came home.  When he found us, we were eating lunch in the
breakfast nook which we put in earlier that year when we remodeled the whole
house.  They, Mom and Dad, decided a year ago to sell this house but wanted
it to be at its peak point so we've been annexing the place for almost half
a year now.  Dad installed a pool in the back yard, about two months ago but
was too cold to use it just yet.  The FROG, or Finished Room Over Garage,
was converted into a spare bedroom.  All in all, the house contained five
bedrooms, three and a half baths, a breakfast nook, one wood-burning
fireplace in the master bedroom, an electric fireplace in the drawing room,
a pool, a solarium, a conservatory, and was placed on a lawn that span one
and a half acres-the house taking another acre.

You could say we're pretty well off, and we are.  Dad's job usually paid for
everything domestic and Mom's job paid for Dad's expenses which is basically
travel fare.

Mom started an Internet Service business when she was in her mid twenties
and had been keeping it thriving over the past ten years.  Dad works as a
successful writer and has written almost seven books that cover the
restaurant business.  He works out of the house, saying that a `job should
never be mixed with personal matters'.  He usually has a great way of
picking out a good place where the right demographic can feel at home.  In
fact, that's how he found Marcello's, he analyzed Pete.  Pete just loves
Italian, which was what we just finished eating when Dad stumbled into the
room.

"You guys had time to cook?" He asked as he placed a brown sachet on the
table.

"Yeah," I said.  "Actually, he cooked," I said as I pointed to the kitchen
where Pete was tiramisu for tonight.

When Pete entered, he saw Dad and said, "Hey, are you hungry?"

"Very.  Cooked anything?"

"Yup, but that's gone cold, how about a sandwich?" Pete asked.  Truthfully,
it was a while since we ate, but both Dad and I knew that the reason Pete
wanted to fix him something was because this way he could make sure that Dad
didn't sneak anything bad for his heart.

"Sure, there's some cold cuts in the `fridge."

"Ham on rye?"

"Yeah."

Pete left and Dad sat next to me.  I smiled at him and he mussed my hair.

When Pete came back, he held a glass of milk and the sandwich and gave them
to Dad.  After thanking him, he grabbed the plate and glass before retiring
to his study/solarium.

"You baby him," I said.

Pete put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it firmly yet not enough to
hurt.  "Yeah, I know I do but he needs it."

"It's not your job."

He didn't say anything; he just patted me and walked out of the room.  I
grabbed the empty plates that we used, and placed them in the dishwasher.  I
didn't turn it on since we usually do the dishes at night and let them pile
up from that morning.

Upstairs, Pete was dressing up to leave when I got to his room.

"Hey, you going some where?" I inquired.

Pete nodded as he put on his belt, looping it around his waist.  "I have a
date with Katie."

Deep down, I groaned but not enough for him to notice.  Katie, I'm really
starting to dislike her.  I let him finish dressing by himself.  In my room,
I sat down and watched TV for a little while.  Well, I didn't really watch
but just stared at the screen thinking about Katie.  She really did irk me,
but the fact is, she never did anything to give me the right to.  All she
did was talk to Pete . . . that slut.  See?  That was completely a reflex.
She's hasn't done anything to make me be anything but polite to her.  So
that's what I'll be, civil and treat her with respect; at least for now.

Around 5:00 p.m., Pete yelled from downstairs that he was leaving.  I
wondered why he left so early since most of his dates usually started around
8:00.  It wasn't my place to ask, so I just grabbed the blinds' handle to
open and shut them.  That movement usually signaled the other that they knew
or understood.  We had gotten into that form of communication ever since we
got lazy.  I was sure that he noticed it so just went back to flipping the
channels, not really paying attention to what was going on.
__________

Four hours passed, and then five and I soon slightly worried.  He never
usually stayed out on a date for more than three hours.  Even when he left
early, he doesn't spend time with anyone for that long, not even Kevin.
Well, that was sort of a technicality since he stayed over almost every day.
  The sixth hour passed and he still had two hours before curfew.  I set a
CD on the stereo a few hours ago and forgot about it.  It was only when it
reached half past the sixth hour I remembered.  When I played it, I felt
slightly better.  Music is one of my greatest releases, especially Emo.  I
don't really consider myself bitchy though-not to say that those who listen
to Emo are.

I switched the CD for a second one, then a third, and finally I placed Brand
New inside it.  Right in the middle of `Sic Transit Gloria . . . Glory
Fades', I heard Pete's car pull into the driveway and park in front of the
house.  When he got into the house, I could hear him bounce up the stairs
and go into one of the rooms.  Out of my room, I saw a light from the bottom
of the door to the restroom.  I sighed and went back to my sanctuary.

The music was still playing and the lyrics popped out and hit me:  "He is a
lamb, she is the slaughter . . ."

Deep down, I expected Pete to come into the room and tell me that he wasn't
gonna see her any more.  That she wasn't worth it.  That the only thing he
needed was me.  But he didn't.  In fact, he didn't even enter my room once
that night.  I stayed awake, under the covers, waiting for him and it wasn't
until 3:00 a.m. when I realized that he was dead asleep in his own room.

One more hour was spent sleepless pondering over one burning question:  Was
being in love with a straight guy-more so, your straight brother-worth it?
It took me a while before I decided it wasn't worth it.  It was then that I
made a pact with myself.  Never will I fall in love with someone who would
never love me the same way that I love them, Pete included.
__________

I woke up sleep deprived, grumpy, and completely agitated.  There was only
half an hour before first bell would ring, for both the high school and
middle, so I knocked on Pete's bedroom door.  I didn't enter, but stayed
close, my ear brushing the oak door.

"Yeah . . ." Pete said, groggily.  "I'm up."

Response wasn't needed, at least, I didn't think it was, so I finished
getting ready and left without even a word to Pete that morning.

On the bus to school, I found a friend of mine and we just sat in silence.
Jake didn't ask what was wrong, he saw by my demeanor that I wasn't in a
talking mood.  Once we got on grounds, I started to get slightly less
depressed.

It was a bit of a walk toward my usual place of congregating, the Wall.  We
called it that because it was a wall.  Well, there are a lot of places we
call the wall but in the morning when we mean The Wall we mean the one in
the Language hall.  There was the Wall during lunch that was outside near
the cafeteria, which we never eat in except when its freezing and they serve
nachos; nachos, crap, I  knew I should've ate before I left.

Jake came up to me before I even saw him, since he couldn't sit next to me
and had to sit farther back.  He was always quiet and stealthy.  He always
knew where I was, so I was never surprised when he just appeared out of
nowhere to be standing right next to me.  I never realized it before but
Jake has a great smile, which he was flashing at me.

"Hey," he said, brushing his shoulder against mine.  I don't think he's ever
not done that when he sees me so I never thought anything about it.  I was
walking faster than him so he picked up his pace, brushing his autumn
mixture hair out of his eyes.  He and Pete had the perfect face for long
hair so they kept it long, unlike me where short hair is the way to go, the
only way to go, actually.  I felt different around him now.  Before Pete and
I did what we do, I always thought of Pete and never once of anyone else and
now I see I was so wrong for doing that, Jake looked amazing, almost in
caparison to Pete-almost.

The way his autumn hair falls delicately against his neck, and the way he
looks at me with those azure eyes, he was looking really special.  His milky
white skin looked amazing against his dark clothing.  That was Jake, of
course.  If you ever saw him out of black, dark blue, blood red, or dark
green, then you'd expect him to finish off the rest of the horsemen.
Instead of a hoodie, which he wears a lot, he wore the leather knee-length
jacket I gave him last Christmas.

"You still fit that?" I asked, about the jacket.

"Well," he said, as we walked to the Wall, "considering that you bought it
two sizes too big, I'm sure I can wear it throughout high school.  What's
up?"

"What do you mean?"  I had no intention to actually answer his question so
firing a question back told him that I didn't want to talk yet.

As a way to save himself, he offered another.  "Aren't we going inside?"

I realized he was right, we've been standing outside in the cold for the
past ten minutes but I didn't feel all that cold.  March weather never
seemed this cold before but then again, they say that this winter's been a
record worst.  The prospect of freezing to death after last night wasn't
that unappealing.  And after that thought came to my mind, I realized how
melodramatic I really am.  When I placed my hand on Jake's shoulder, I
smiled.  We walked into the school from the front entrance since that's
where the bus always dropped us off.  Inside was quite warm and jackets
weren't that necessary, so I took off mine-which was identical to Jake's-and
Jake did the same.  His biceps flexed when he did this, his tight dark
purple screen tee hiding nothing.

Jake told me that last spring, he has gotten a weight training set and it
was working for him.  All I could see was hard muscle and beautiful
definition.  I envied him for his body.  I felt that mine looked incredibly
childish compared to his and Pete's.  Out of the corner of my eye, I could
see that Jake saw me looking and I blushed before turning away.  A gaggle of
girls at the end of the hall saw what I saw, a beautiful boy who did not
deserve to be called a boy.  We heard them giggle when we passed by them.
Jake and I laughed about it all the way to our destination.

"Hope that doesn't go to your head," I told him.

Being quite nonchalant about it, Jake said, "Don't worry about me."

My stomach growled from hunger and Jake chuckled when he heard it.

"Forgot to eat breakfast?"

"Yeah, I was in a rush."

He craned his neck over the crowded hallway.  With his tall stature, he
could see passed all the people and decided that since there was this many
inside, the cafeteria was probably still quiet.  "Nah, never mind, I can
wait till lunch," I assured him.  My stomach growled again and Jake narrowed
his eyes.  "Okay, I guess I can grab something from the snack machines."

It wasn't until we got to the machines that we realized that it was too late
to even eat anything so we just left it alone.  I was hungry but it would
pass.  The bell rang on time that day and Jake and I separated to go to
class.
__________

Second period came rolling along after a grueling morning of Algebra, and
with it came gym, as of now, my favorite subject.  Jake's in my class and
that means I get to see a little of him.

"Hey," Jake said as I met him at the double doors.  He looked like he was
shivering from across the hall and he was, when I got a closer look at him.
He was dressed in a standard dark blue shirt and blue shorts that ended just
at his knees.  Dammit, he already dressed out!  Now I'm going to have to
wait 90 minutes till I can see him dress back in his clothes.  "We're doing
track today.  It sucks.  Don't they know that its winter out there?"

I shrugged and went into the locker-room to dress out.  Jake followed me,
since he had nothing better to do; plus, the floors are heated.  I dropped
my stuff at the farthest bench from everyone.  I don't really like
congregating with people in my PE class.  They're either idiots or really
annoying; some are both.  The wooden bench was already holding a few bags
and there was one guy there, who I really didn't talk to much.  There was
enough room for my bag and Jake to sit on so I began to change as I pulled
my shirt over my head.  The sudden mixture of hot and cold air on my body
was surprising.  Jake and I talked about this and that, not really paying
attention to what the other said but acting like we were.  While he twiddled
his fingers, I put on my shirt and shorts, same as Jake's but my shorts were
green.  We walked out to the track, bitching along the way about the cold
weather, clutching our arms.

Mr. T, our gym teacher, was already there, standing in one of the lanes as
the rest of the class started to come out.  There were a few kids there
already.  Kelly and Becker, the fastest runners in the school were already
doing their stretches.  Mr. T told us to run four laps (one mile).  As
always, Jake and I took our time, lagging enough so we didn't really have to
put that much effort but fast enough so we were at around the middle part of
the class.  As our blood began surging, our arms and legs became warmer; but
our lungs were freezing!  Finishing around the time a group finished, Mr. T
told us to go into the gym and just do something.  This was one reason I
liked Mr. T.  He didn't care what you did, as long as you did something.
Like usual, Jake and I began walking around the basketball court, the
smallest thing you could do that was considered physical fitness.  While we
did that, time moved ever so quickly, and soon it was time to dress back
into our clothes.

Usually, we never used the showers, as we never had any reason to sweat.
Going back to my bench, I pulled off my still dry shirt and stuffed it into
my bag after I took my old shirt from inside it.  Jake was across from me,
on a bench that pulling off his shirt.  His pecs flexed when he did that and
a small trickle of sweat fell from his brow down to his left nipple.  I took
off my shorts, but kept my boxers on, and threw them into my bag, along with
my white shirt.  I began to put on my black slacks when Jake began to pull
off his shorts.  I was watching intently and it was almost inevitable, I
fell, right on my ass and onto the bench!  No one noticed but the same guy
that was on my bench earlier but he just chuckled and then left the room
after he slung his bag on his right shoulder.  As soon as I regain my
balance, Jake already had all of his old clothes on, so I put mine on and we
left the locker-room without another word.
__________

After second period, lunch started and we made our way to the second Wall.
The weather was still surprisingly cold but not so much that you couldn't
sit outside.  We met up with friends and talked about whatever they really
wanted to say.  Socially, our little group is probably one of the upper
middle, yet we were always kept away from since we were slightly less
uptight about sexuality.  Here and there, you could notice girls sitting
down and soon a girl pretends to flirt with her by putting her hand on the
girl's thigh and stroking it.  They would smile, crack up, and then shoot
the shit.  Usually, though, this flirtation was only to signify a sort of
comfort if the person looked more than slightly down.

This afternoon, I was that girl.  On the brick wall, I sat and stared down
at my half eaten cheeseburger, not quite as hungry as I thought.  Jake was
at the other end talking with Bethany.  I watched our group and the way they
functioned, seemingly fluid and ever continuous.  We have been friends since
we were in third grade, others since kindergarten.  People
watching-especially those close to me-appealed to me very much.  Not that
I'm a voyeur but I do like just watching people and what they do.

Lily came over and sat next to me.  She placed her hand on my knee and
asked, "Something the matter?"  She wasn't as perceptive as Jake.

"Nothing, really," I told her.  I feigned a smile to try and reassure her.

"Girl troubles?" She asked.

I chuckled.  "Not exactly, but yeah," I told her.  "But don't worry about
it; I'll be fine by tomorrow."

She gave me a hug before saying, "You're a great guy.  This girl would be
lucky to have you."  She slipped off the wall and walked to another cluster
of friends.

Lily had no idea how wrong she was but I wasn't about to tell her.  She
looked so sad when she saw me unhappy.  I tried to keep spirits up for the
rest of the day but it was almost impossible to after what I had just done.
In my mind I kept replaying what happened the past two days.  Things were
confusing and blurred.  I don't remember how I ever kept my cool when Pete
asked me to be a jack off buddy.  I was just shocked, I guess.  And after we
actually did an act, I don't know how I got through it without releasing.
__________

Pete always took a little longer than I did to come home since his school
was all the way at the other side of the city.  Usually, fifteen minutes
passed before he would be home but that would be if he came home at all.  If
he went to a friend's house, he stayed out almost till his curfew.  Luckily,
he came home just minutes after I toasted a pop tart.

"Hey," Pete said.  He dropped the books he was holding on the table and put
his back onto the floor.  We were in the breakfast nook since we do our
homework there whenever we had it.  Good lighting, close to the
refrigerator, and the fact that it was the room where we spent most of our
time anyways, it just seem stupid not to do it anywhere else.

When Pete saw the pop tarts, he grabbed one.  I made one for me and one for
him.  "Thanks, Kiddo."

He opened a white binder and out spilled his papers, which looked like they
were Chemistry.  He was so relieved earlier in the year when they gave him
special permission to take the class even though he was supposedly too young
since it was an AP class (Advance Placement).  It seems like he does not
really like it anymore, though.

"Killing you?" I asked him after I picked up the papers from the floor and
put them on the table.  I went back to the kitchen to get us a glass of milk
each.

"Yeah, it's torture," Pete called from a room away.

When I returned, Pete was pulling his shirt over his head, his white tee
underneath was all that was left on his torso.  I put the cold glass next to
him.  Without even looking down, he picked it up and drank.  He pulled a
pencil out of his pocket and began to do his homework.  I sat across from
him, opened up my Algebra book and started writing.  We sat in silence, not
doing anything but working till the day passed.

**********

To Be Continued

Send all thoughts, critiques, or grammar changes to the address above.
Thanks for taking the time to read this story.  I know it's not exactly the
best story ever, but I'm trying.  I do get points for that, right?  Well, I
hope you aren't too harsh.  And again, thanks.

-MKP