Hi. This is my first submission. I hope you enjoy it.

As a bit of a warning (if that's the right word), this story contains no actual sex. There is intimacy between two preteen boys, as well as some non-consensual stuff off-screen. But basically, what I'm saying is that if you're looking for a quick jerkoff story, you're not in the right place. Sorry, maybe next time!

Disclaimer: Despite this story containing no sexual content, it is intended for mature, adult audiences. If you are under the age of consent in your place of residence, if you dislike this sort of thing (in which case, why are you here?), or if it is in any way illegal for you to view this content, I advise you to leave. This story is pure fiction. Any similarities between any characters, places, or events depicted in the story and anything in real life are pure coincidence.

"Get your ass out of bed, boy!"

Sleepily, I groaned and rolled onto my side, using my arm to bend the pillow in half behind my head to cover my ears. I had been having the most wonderful dream, but for the life of me, I couldn't recall much of anything that had happened. Instead, I was greeted by harsh, cruel reality as a sudden, loud series of knocks on my bedroom door snapped me wide awake and I sat up fast.

"I know you heard me, boy. Get your ass up before you miss the bus. I'm not driving you!"

I quickly pushed the sheets off of me and slid my feet around so that I could slip gently onto the floor from my bed. I was annoyed with the discomfort caused by the tent in the front of my pajama pants, which had been happening way too often lately, but I couldn't focus any time on that.

"Y-yes sir!" I said, my voice still a little raspy because I had just woken up. "I'm... I'm up!"

The floor was cold against my bare feet and I danced around on tiptoes for a second until I got used to the temperature. I went to my closet and pulled out a t-shirt and a clean pair of jeans. Even though I try to get the most out of each pair of jeans each time I get the laundry back, the ones I had been wearing and gotten stained yesterday when Dad... well, I don't really want to talk about it. It's not a big deal. It was my fault anyway.

Anyway, I grabbed a pair of briefs and eventually found a two matching socks from my dresser. Draping the clean change of clothes over my shoulder, I cracked the door slightly and peered out. Seeing that the coast was clear I pushed the door opened wider and, naked with clothes on my arm, I hurried to the bathroom. Once the door was shut, I dropped my clean clothes onto the counter next to the sink and started the shower warming up before turning to the toilet and relieving the pressure in my abdomen.

My eyes roamed and eventually found the mirror above the sink. I tried to avoid looking at my reflection whenever possible because I already knew what I would see: an underdeveloped, small, pale, twelve year old boy with a bruises across his chest and stomach. Even without the bruises, I hated how I looked. I wasn't fat or particularly ugly; in fact, I've been told I'm kind of cute. No, the reason I hate how I look is because I look so much like Mom. Same eyes, same hair color. I wear my hair kind of long like hers was, too; I like it that way. But maybe that's why Dad hates me, because I remind him of her every time he looks at me. I remind him of what I took from him. But please, let's not go there. Not yet.

The water didn't take long to warm up and I was quick to step beneath the steaming stream. Dad doesn't like it when I use too much water, and lately he's had a habit of flushing the toilet a few times if I am taking too long, causing the water temperature to either skyrocket or plummet. So I didn't spend much time doing anything more than washing my hair and soaping up the rest of my body. After only about five minutes I turned off the water, grabbed my towel, and stepped out of the tub.

As I pulled my shirt over my head I winced slightly, feeling a little bit of discomfort from the freshest bruise on the left side of my chest. I had earned it yesterday when I brought home a bad grade on my math test. But like I said, it was my fault and I don't want to talk about it. With my shirt on, none of the bruises were visible, which is good because I don't want to have to answer questions at school. Once, I showed up with a nasty bruise on my right forearm and had to lie about accidentally hitting the door on my way out of my room. But I'm not good at lying, so I try to avoid having to do it.

Once I was dressed, I went back to my room and dumped my dirty clothes into the hamper before grabbing my bag and heading out the door. I paused on the way out of my room as my eyes found the picture in its frame on my nightstand. Mom, Dad, and I stood in front of the house smiling. We were all dressed up, having just come back from church. Dad and I don't go to church anymore. Mom had wanted a family picture because we hadn't had one recently, so she had set up the camera on a tripod with a delay so that we could get a family portrait.

I missed her. So much. I walked up to the picture and reached out my hand. The glass was cool to the touch, so much unlike the warmth I could remember feeling whenever I was close to her. I felt the familiar stinging feeling in the corners of my eyes, and I swallowed as I ran a finger gently across the smooth glass over her cheek. She looked so happy.

But now she was dead. And it was all my fault. But I don't want to talk about it. That's a common theme, I think you'll find.

"Hey, dumbass. Make sure you don't do anything to piss off your teachers today, okay? I don't want any more calls saying how much you've fucked up."

Snapped out of my thoughts, I hurried downstairs. "Yes, sir," I said softly before turning and heading out the door as fast as I could without it being obvious how much I really wanted to get out of there.

As soon as I was out of the line of sight of our front door, I paused and leaned back against a fence that was along the sidewalk and took a deep breath. My heart was racing and I could feel the familiar stinging again at the corner of my eyes. I closed them tightly and muttered to myself repeatedly: "Don't cry, don't cry."

It took me a couple of minutes of controlled breathing to regain my composure. With a deep breath I continued walking. I turned the corner just as the red brake lights of the school bus went off and the large, yellow vehicle pulled away from the stop. "No, no no!" I said with a sudden dropping sensation in my stomach.

I took off after it but it was to no avail. "Shit, fuck, moron!" I said loudly to myself as I bent over and panted, the bus just disappearing around the corner. I kicked a rock and cursed some more. "God damn it!" If I hadn't been such a crybaby I wouldn't have missed the bus.

I didn't really know what to do. I looked around, as if for a solution to magically appear. There was no way I could turn around and go back home. Dad would not be happy with me missing the bus, and he already said he didn't want to drive me. But I couldn't skip today either. I had an English test in first period, and I HAD to pass it, or else... let's just say I couldn't miss today. Trust me.

I paced back and forth for a couple of seconds before, finally, I sat down hard on the curb and put my head between my hands. I didn't cry, but I groaned loudly in frustration and kicked several times at another rock that was a few inches away before I finally connected with it enough to send it flying away from me.

"Hey, Aaron!" I heard to my left. I looked up and my heart nearly stopped. I know my breathing did; I had to remind myself to let out the air I had sucked in. Sitting in the front passenger's seat of a large, black SUV was Cody Anderson, one of the most popular boys in 6th grade.

I didn't answer right away; I was quite surprised that he even knew my name, much less that he would say something to me. Up until now, I figured he didn't even know I existed. Of course, I knew his name. Hell, everyone knows his name. He is one of the top players on the school's 6th grade baseball team. He gets good grades. He is good looking. And everyone likes him. Some people just get it all. And other people, like me, draw the short end of the stick. You know, when the shit hits the fan, it all blows in my direction.

"Hey!" I called back a little uncertainly, realizing I hadn't responded for a significant amount of time.

"Ummm... you need a ride?"

What!? Are you serious? Hell yes! Ahem, I mean, "Umm, yeah if... if you don't mind, that'd be great!"

His mom pulled the SUV over to the curb and I opened the back door, tossing my backpack in front of me onto the seat as I climbed in. "Thank you, ma'am!" I said softly as I buckled in.

"Not a problem at all, young man. Aaron, is it?" she said with a kind smile.

"Yes, ma'am." I didn't really know what to say beyond that--I've never been really good with social conversations. I looked down at my thumbs, which were fumbling together nervously in my lap.

I saw movement in my peripheral vision and looked up to see Cody glance over his shoulder with a grin. But he didn't say anything. I wasn't sure what that meant. Did I do something stupid or clumsy? I was probably making a fool of myself without even realizing it. That sounded like something I'd do. But not wanting to be rude, I forced a nervous grin in reply and, apparently satisfied, he turned back around to face out the front. With him not looking, I checked myself self-consciously to make sure I hadn't left my fly unzipped or something.

Finding nothing out of the ordinary, I sat quietly in the back while Mrs. Anderson and Cody talked about their plans for the rest of the day and the weekend. This sort of conversation was already a bit foreign to me. It was something I might have engaged in a while ago before mom... you know...

But now dad and I barely talk, and when we do it's usually him yelling at me because I've fucked up again. I do that a lot now. But what do you expect from a clumsy idiot?

"So, do you have any big plans for the weekend, Aaron?" Mrs. Anderson's question snapped me out of my thoughts. I hadn't been expecting a question like that, so I had to think quickly for an answer.

"Ummm... not really," I said lamely. I tried to remember the last time I had actually done anything over the weekend. Back before the accident, mom, dad, and I had gone camping several times and even went to Disney when I was several years younger. I used to go swimming a lot over the summer, and I had been involved in little league for the past couple of years. Maybe that's where Cody learned my name. When he saw how much I strike out and drop the fucking baseball. But lately dad has been expecting me to study all the time so that I don't fail in school. As if that helped.

"Dude, you should totally come to the movie with us tomorrow!" Cody said with a bright grin.

"Oh, well... maybe," I said. "I'll have to ask my dad." Which means no, I thought bitterly. "But thanks for the invitation."

We pulled up to the school and I grabbed my bag, hopping quickly out of the backseat. Before Cody got out, I overheard his mom talking quietly to him.

"Cody, you need to be a friend to that boy. I worry about him. Ever since his mom passed he's been really shy and quiet."

"Yes, ma'am," I heard Cody say back softly, and then more loudly, "Bye, mom, see you after school!"

I turned and acted like I didn't hear what they had just said and started walking.

"Hey, Aaron, wait up!" Cody called from behind me. I stopped and let him catch up. "You want to walk together?"

I shrugged, but then realized that was kind of rude. "Sure." But then I stopped, "You don't have to, though."

He squinted. "Don't have to what?"

I shot a glance at his mom's tail lights as she rounded the corner and then, without meeting his eyes, responded, "Be my friend. I heard your mom talking to you after I got out of the car. It's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to."

He didn't reply right away, just looked at me thoughtfully. Finally, he said, "I do want to. You know, it wasn't my mom's idea at first to give you a ride. She didn't even see you sitting there. I asked her to stop for you."

I blushed slightly and looked at my feet. "Oh. Sorry. Thanks."

He grinned. "Come on." He grabbed my arm, making me look up in surprise, and pulled me along behind him.

"Where are we going?" I said. We were a bit early for school to start, and we didn't have any classes together, anyway.

"To meet up with the rest of my friends."

The rest of? What, is he including me in that? He doesn't even know me...

I followed closely behind him and we eventually arrived at the side doors, where several other boys were standing around and talking. I recognized them--other popular, good looking, successful kids. I didn't deserve to be there, and I was feeling very out of place. And some of them looked at me with that kind of thought behind their eyes as well, wondering what the hell I was doing anywhere near them. But Cody had invited me, so they didn't say anything.

------

After school, I hurried to make my way onto the bus home. I didn't want to inconvenience Mrs. Anderson any more. Cody caught up to me just before I was about to get on.

"Hey, Aaron, one moment!" he said, slightly out of breath. "So, I realized you don't have my phone number. After you ask your dad if you can go to the movie tomorrow, text me or call and let me know what he says."

He handed me a piece of paper with his number scribbled on it.

"Thanks," I said, taking the paper. "See you later."

I sat down in my usual spot in the back and stared down at the numbers written on the paper. I couldn't text him, since I didn't have a cell phone of my own. My dad told me he couldn't afford one, and I wouldn't expect him to get me one if he could. Stuffing the scrap of paper into my pocket, I sighed, closed my eyes, leaned my head back against the seat, and spent the duration of the bus ride either trying to nap or staring out the window without really looking at anything in particular.

When it got to my stop, I got off and started walking toward home. I was looking at the ground in front of my feet as I walked, thinking about nothing but zoned out, and I didn't notice when my path was blocked ahead by someone standing and waiting for me.

"Hey, dweeb," I heard. I knew who it was before I looked up. I recognized the voice and groaned.

"Leave me alone, Derek," I muttered, glaring at him. Derek was one of the bullies. He was in eighth grade and therefore had two years of size and strength over me. He stood in my way and moved to block me when I tried to get around him, so I was forced to stop and see what he wanted.

"No, you see, I seem to remember our agreement, where you give me your lunch money in exchange for me not beating you up. But here we are on Friday and you haven't given me anything all week."

I didn't respond. My dad had, I guess, forgotten to give me money for lunch this week. Or maybe it was punishment. I'm sure there's something I did to make him mad. It's not that big of a deal. I'd been buying off Derek for a while now, so I was used to not eating until I got home from school.

"I'll tell you what," Derek said menacingly. "I'll give you another chance. On Monday I expect two weeks worth of lunch money or you're really going to get it."

He turned and walked away, leaving me standing there, wondering how I would ever come up with that much money, especially if my dad forgot again next week. I swallowed and finally continued walking home.

I wasn't surprised to see the driveway empty as I arrived. Dad worked as a cook at the local diner, barely making enough to break even each month, and usually didn't get home until late. And when he did get home, it was normally after he had stopped by the bar for a few too many drinks, so he was usually drunk and I avoided him as much as possible. I often pretended to be asleep, if I hadn't fallen asleep already, when he got home, just so I wouldn't have to listen to him yell.

I spent the afternoon working on homework and then laid down on the couch in front of the TV before dinner. Despite dad being a cook, I was responsible for making sure there was something ready for him to eat when he got home. After cooking all day, he didn't want to have to make his own dinner when he got home. But I was tired, a bit more so than normal, and I must have fallen asleep because suddenly it was dark and I heard the sound of a car door slamming in the driveway.

I sat up and took a second to process what was going on. "Fuck!" I said loudly, frantically looking for the remote, but it had disappeared. Of course. I glanced at the clock: 10:08pm.

I stood up quickly when the door opened and dad staggered in.

"Hey, boy," he said, I could tell his speech was already slurred. "You make me any dinner?"

My throat was dry so I swallowed. "Ummm, I... forgot," I said softly.

"You forgot? How the fuck did you forget? You're goddamn useless, you hear?"

My eyes started to sting with tears again. It wasn't so much that he had called me useless; I already knew I was. It was more due fear of him hitting me again. "I'm sorry!" I replied quickly. "I'll go make something now!"

He took several steps over to me and I shrank back, but sandwiched between the couch and the living room table, I didn't really have anywhere to go. I closed my eyes as he grabbed me. I could smell the alcohol on his breath. I shuddered involuntarily and opened my eyes as he shook my shoulders and bent low to yell into my face. "I don't know how many times I have to tell you, damn it! You need to step up and be a man, not a worthless little boy. You've got responsibilities! You can't just forget. You know what happens if I forget? I lose my fucking job. You tell me where the fuck you'd be without me paying all your bills, you piece of shit?"

My eyes were wide and I swallowed before speaking. "I don't know." It came out as barely more than a raspy whisper. Of course, I did know; this wasn't the first time he was going to tell me. But I didn't want to make him madder by acting as if I actually know anything. I learned the hard way that doing so just makes it worse.

"You'd be in a god damn orphanage, that's where. Somewhere they don't give a fuck about you! But you see, here I give you a place to sleep; I give you food to eat and clothes to wear; I make sure you get a good education, despite your best efforts to fail! If you end up in some home, you don't get that. I'm all you've got! You had a good thing going and then you killed your mom. And now you're stuck with me!" Suddenly, he lifted me by the collar of my shirt and slapped my cheek. When he let go, I stumbled backwards and fell over the table, landing in a crumpled heap in front of the TV. I moaned softly and grabbed at my cheek, but I was past the point where a mere slap would cause me to cry out.

"Now, go up to your room, and go to bed. I don't want to hear another sound out of you tonight!"

I stood on unsteady legs and pushed past him. I ran up the stairs, and into my bedroom slamming the door behind me. I fell onto my bed face first. I could feel the tears start to flow as my shoulders shook. I didn't really move much for more than four hours untiI I finally heard my dad's room door close. I glanced at the clock. 2:32 am.

I sat up and looked around. I had stopped crying a while ago but I knew I still looked like crap. But I didn't want to make noise by taking a shower because that would just wake him up so I'd get in trouble for that, and probably also for wasting water.

My stomach growled and I bent forward, groaning uncomfortably not only due to the soreness in my ribs from where I had fallen over the table, but I also realized I hadn't eaten in more than twenty four hours. I had forgotten to eat breakfast in my haste to catch the bus, and then I didn't have money for lunch, and I had meant to make supper for myself and then have some left over for dad, but I had fallen asleep. Somehow I always manage to fuck up.

I slipped quietly out of bed and walked on tip toes down the stairs, careful to skip the steps that I knew creaked. I got to the kitchen and opened the fridge, temporarily blinded by the bright light from inside.

I noticed a piece of chicken in a plastic container that hadn't been there before. That must be left over from what dad fixed up for himself. It made my stomach grumble again but I knew not to touch it. Dad would probably expect it to be there later.

There wasn't anything else fixed up so I just grabbed a few slices of bread and made a peanut butter sandwich. That at least took the edge off the gnawing hunger. I headed quietly back up stairs stood next to my bed, surveying the room in the dim moonlight. It was closer to 3 am now.

I decided to go back to sleep. I hadn't been in the mood to get undressed earlier but I didn't want to wear my school clothes to bed, so I quickly dropped my jeans and pulled my shirt over my head, tossing each sock on the floor in the pile. The bruise on my chest combined with the soreness in my side made me wince again, but I just ignored it. I was used to pain by now.

As I lay on my bed and waited for sleep, my thoughts went to Cody and how he had befriended me. He had introduced me to his friends and let me hang out with them before school and during recess, though we had different lunch periods so we couldn't hang out then. His friends at least seemed to tolerate me, even if none of us really hit it off. After all, none of them would have even spoken to me if Cody hadn't introduced us. But still, it was nice to have friends again. Or at least people that I hoped probably wouldn't stuff my head in the toilet for a wedgie. It felt like it had been a long time since I had friends. But as I lay there and thought about it, I still didn't know why Cody would want to be my friend. I was clumsy and stupid and never did anything right. I was a late bloomer and never considered myself all that good looking. I was a C student at best. Cody was everything I wasn't. Everything I ever wanted to be. And for some reason he wanted to be friends with me, when really I didn't deserve for him to even know I existed.

And with that realization my mood turned sour. There was no way I would be able to go to the movie with him now. Not after I fucked up and forgot to do something as simple and routine as making my dad's supper. And it wasn't worth it to chance sneaking out. My dad would be on to me in a heartbeat.

"I'm so stupid," I said quietly. "I can't do anything right."

I woke up with the sunrise. 7:28am on a Saturday. Way too goddamn early. I groaned and rolled over but couldn't get back to sleep, so I decided to get up. I just pulled on the same jeans and tshirt that I had worn the day before, and slowly made my way out of my room. I didn't hear any movement downstairs, and when I listened near my dad's door, I heard some occasional snoring. Satisfied that I would probably have a little while to myself, I crept quietly downstairs and turned on the TV, though I was careful to keep the volume reasonably quiet. Nothing like Saturday morning cartoons to take your mind off things as you munch on some Cheerios.

I heard the toilet flush upstairs and tensed. Dad was awake. But he stayed upstairs for a while before he came down and said, "Hey, boy. I'm going out. Don't go anywhere, and no one comes over, you hear?"

"Yes, sir." As if I had anywhere to go or anyone to invite over.

I liked it when I was home alone. I was always tense when dad was around, scared that I would accidentally do something to make him mad, which would result in a beating. But when he wasn't home, I was free to do just about anything I wanted. I had even chanced it once or twice a few months ago and walked around the house nude a few times. I liked the liberation of not having to wear clothes. Of course, that only could happen when I knew where he was and exactly when he was due home. There is no way I can let him catch me doing that. I don't know what he'd do, but I don't want to find out.

At about eleven I realized I should probably let Cody know I wouldn't be able to go to the movie with them at three. I pulled the scrap of paper with his number on it out of my pocket and walked into the kitchen to use the landline.

The phone rang a few times without an answer and I was about to hang up when the ringer stopped and a young voice answered, "Hello?"

"Umm... hi? Is Cody there?" I hated talking on the phone. I was always so awkward and I never knew what to say.

"You're talking to him. Is this Aaron?"

"Yeah. Hey."

"Hi."

"So, my dad said I can't go to the movie. Too many chores." I guess that sounded believable, but I added, "And I failed a math test this week, too." for good measure. That part was true, but that had no bearing on whether or not my dad would have let me go. Hell, I could bring home straight A's and he would make me stay home.

"Dude, that sucks. I was hoping you'd be able to make it. Well, I guess there's always next time."

"Yeah." 'Yeah, right,' more like. "So I guess I'll see you on Monday, then."

"Alright, sounds good. See you later!"

We hung up and I sighed and looked out the window before heading back to the couch.

Dad stumbled in the door at about 2, clearly drunk, and passed out on his recliner. I knew from experience that when he passed out, he was out for several hours. And then I had a thought. Rather than being cooped up at home all day, if he's not even going to be awake why do I need to be here? If the movie's at 3, I could be back by 5:30. He'd still be passed out then, right?

I ran to the kitchen and grabbed the phone, hoping I wasn't too late to catch Cody before they left. Once again the phone rang several times before someone answered.

"Hey, Cody?" I said tentatively.

"What's up, Aaron?" he asked. He sounded so... just happy I guess. I could practically feel his smile through the phone.

"Ummm, my dad changed my mind. I got my chores done fast and he said I could go."

"Dude, that's awesome! We're just about to leave, you want us to swing by and get you?"

"Umm, yeah, if you don't mind, that'd be great!"

"Alright, well then I'll see you in like five."

"Okay, thanks. See you!"

We hung up and I hesitated for a moment before doing anything. What the fuck am I doing? Things never work out for me. Why even chance it? But it was too late; I was committed. I couldn't exactly call him back and admit to lying. And anyway, in that moment my craving for friendship trumped my fear of punishment. I took a deep breath and ran quickly, but quietly, to the bathroom to make sure I didn't still look like crap. I should have showered, but it was too late now. I at least wet a comb and ran it through my thick, black hair to make it settle down. It's usually relatively easy to tame, since it's straight. I'm glad it's not curly. That would be annoying. I styled it so that my bangs were hanging over my left eye. I liked it like that, even though dad usually made me get a haircut before it got long enough. That'll probably be on the agenda some time soon but I'll enjoy my hair while I can.

I hurried to my room and pulled on a fresh shirt. I saw them pull into the driveway from my bedroom window and rushed downstairs, of course being careful not to make enough noise to wake up my dad.

I ran out to the SUV and hopped in the back seat, giving Cody a quick grin as I slid in.

"Hey, Aaron! It was cool of your dad to reconsider," he said with an odd look on his face, almost like he knew I was lying. I felt a twinge of guilt in the pit of my stomach but shooed it away. If I was going to break the rules, I might as well enjoy it, rather than sitting around and being worried about the inevitable consequences if I were to get caught.

"Yeah, I guess he just knew I hadn't had a lot of friends to hang out with lately so he let me go." I shot Cody a meaningful glance.

"Well, we're glad you could make it," said Mrs. Anderson. "Cody wouldn't stop talking about it all last night, how excited he was."

"Mom!" he said, blushing. I couldn't help but grin as he shot a furtive glance in my direction. I didn't entirely understand why he had been excited to hang out with me. I mean, the other way around made sense, but I was a nobody, a loner, a non-entity.

Before long, she pulled up in front of the theater and slowed to a stop to let us out. "Okay, boys, have a good time. I'll be by after the movie to get you."

"Thanks mom!"

"Thanks, Mrs. Anderson!"

Cody grabbed my arm and pulled me along behind him to the ticket counter. I realized with a jolt of anxiety that I had forgotten that I'm fucking dirt poor. I don't have any goddamn money.

"Dude," I said before he stepped up to the counter. "I don't know why I didn't think of this before but... I'm... I don't have any money."

"Don't worry about it, man. I'll cover it."

I was a little surprised at that. I wasn't used to people giving me things. My brow furrowed. "You sure? I wouldn't be mad if you called your mom and asked her to take me home."

"Nonsense! I don't mind paying for a friend."

I looked at him awkwardly before finally allowing a grin. "Thanks." I made a mental note to pay him back later... somehow. Then again, having to somehow come up with two weeks worth of lunch money for Derek would make it kind of tough, if at all possible.

Cody got two tickets and I followed him inside. "You want snacks?" he asked, gesturing at the concessions.

"Oh, umm... whatever you want. Remember, I don't have money. Don't feel like you have to get me anything."

"I told you. I'm buying. Now what do you want?"

I looked up at the menu and my mouth dropped when I saw the prices. "Dude... it's twenty bucks for two sodas and popcorn. Don't waste your money on me, man, really."

"It's not a waste. But yeah, that sounds good. We can share a popcorn and each have a drink."

He stepped up to the counter and ordered. Fuck, I thought. I just let him put me into so much debt... I can never pay this off. Shit.

He handed me a soda and the bag of popcorn and I followed him to the theater. We grabbed seats near the top, since the rest were pretty much already all taken. The lights darkened and previews started. I was soon caught up in how cool most of the upcoming movies looked, ones I would probably never get a chance to see unless I kept taking big risks like I was now.

"Dude that looks awesome!" I said after one about Superman. Cody grinned in agreement.

Finally, the movie started. I hadn't expected it to be as suspenseful as it was. It wasn't scary, really, it just had a lot of buildup. At one really tense part, Cody absentmindedly grabbed my hand tightly. I didn't mind any, at all, whatsoever, but I could tell he was a bit embarrassed when he eventually noticed and quickly pulled his hand back.

And then it was over. I was surprised that two hours had already passed. Cody and I left, excitedly recounting the most exciting points of the plot to each other. It felt good to have someone to carry on with.

As Cody's mom dropped me in front of my house I walked quickly to the door and cautiously cracked it open. I glanced at dad's chair, expecting to see him still out cold but to my dismay he wasn't there.

I froze, realizing that dad had woken up while I was gone and most likely had realized I wasn't there.

"Get your ass in here, boy!" I heard from the kitchen. So much for being quiet. I gently shut the door and forced myself to walk into the kitchen. Dad was standing at the counter cutting up some vegetables. My eyes followed the knife for a little while before I made myself meet his gaze.

"Where'd you go, boy?"

"A... movie."

"A movie? And who said you could go to a movie?"

"N-no one, sir."

"And who's in charge of what you can and can't do?"

"Y-you are."

"That's right. So you tell me why you just decided you could run off without permission and do whatever the fuck you wanted?"

"I..." I trailed off.

"Well?"

"I'm sorry. My friend invited me and I..."

"You what? You decided you could make decisions about yourself? Well guess what, I'm the one who decides where and when you go. And since when do you have any friends?"

I just looked at the floor.

"Come here," he ordered. I slowly walked toward him, trembling involuntarily. He had set down the knife as he was talking, so I felt slightly less in danger. But suddenly he grabbed my arm and pulled me toward him as he bent down so that his face was level with mine.

"You will learn your place, boy!" He snarled. "As long as you live in my house, you do what I say, when I say it. You understand me, boy?"

My eyes were wide in fear and I my breathing was erratic. I didn't answer him at first and he pushed me back a little, raising his voice. "I said, do you understand me, boy?" But by now I had shut down. I wasn't really able to think, much less form words. When I didn't answer, he got even more angry. Suddenly, I saw his fist flying at my chest and I ducked instinctly, though I wasn't quick enough; I inadvertently brought my face directly into the path of his knuckles.

His knuckles connected with left eye and sent me flying backward with a slight rotation to the left. I felt myself ram into the wall and slumped down onto the ground.

I was seeing stars as I grabbed my face in my hands and started crying uncontrollably. This was the first time he had actually punched me in the face. Of course, that part wasn't on purpose; the punch was, but the fact that it was in my face wasn't. I know that it would leave a mark, and it would of course be my job to figure out an excuse. I heard my dad quickly stomp out of the room, but I didn't get up for several minutes until, finally, I decided to go up to my room to avoid any further confrontation.

-----

"What happened to you?" Cody asked, peering over the shoulder of his seat at my very obvious black eye with a look of concern. I had spent all of Sunday locked up in my room because I didn't want to have to see my dad, and I knew he wasn't going to let me out of the house anyway. Now, it was Monday and Cody had convinced his mom to give me a ride to school again.

"Oh, my eye?" I said stupidly, mostly stalling for time so that I could come up with a good excuse. Yeah, of course that's what he's talking about, dimwit. "I, uh... ran into a door. I'm clumsy like that," I said with a forced, goofy smile, hoping he would buy my sorry attempt at a lie. I doubt he did, though. I couldn't sell water in the middle of the desert if my life depended on it.

A frown flash across his face, but was replaced immediately with a grin that was probably as forced as mine. "You should be more careful, man."

I noticed Cody and his mom share a quick glance. Damn it, now they think I'm a freak. And they're right. There's no way Cody will want to be my friend anymore. Not that I blame him.

He and I got out of the SUV together and walked next to each other into the school building. I was being a bit cautious, walking slightly behind him because I wasn't sure he actually still wanted such a clutz as a friend. Suddenly, he grabbed my arm and pulled me into a deserted classroom.

"Hey, what are we doing?" I asked, looking around suspiciously. I relaxed when I didn't see anyone lurking in the shadows, waiting to jump me.

"We need to talk."

"Okay? What about? I'll pay you back for the movie, I promise!" My heart was suddenly beating faster. Here it comes. Here's when he tells me he doesn't want to be my friend anymore.

He frowned for a second and said, "Dude, I already said, don't sweat it. What I'm concerned about is your eye. You don't get a black eye like that from running into a door." Oh... right. That. I can't believe that was my excuse. I couldn't think of anything better?

After a moment of quick but unproductive thinking I swallowed hard and shrugged without replying, keeping my expression flat. I had to stay calm and not give up the fact that my dad was beating me. It's my fault. He had told me not to go anywhere, and I had disobeyed him. And anyway, I can't lose him. He's all I've got. They'll put me a foster home and I'll get beat up anyway. My mind was racing, coming up with excuse after excuse for why it wasn't Dad's fault.

Cody pressed on. "Aaron, who did this to you?"

I couldn't hold his gaze anymore so I just looked away. "It was my fault, really. It's no big deal."

"Aaron, who?"

"I shouldn't have made him mad," I said, feeling my face start to flush. I was still unable to meet his eyes. "It wasn't his fault."

"Aaron!" Cody said sharply. My eyes snapped up to his as he continued. "Come on, man... just tell me who it was. Was it... was it your dad?"

I didn't say anything. Instinctively I wanted to flat out deny it right away. But something in me kept me from saying anything. My eyes widened in fear as time went on without me denying it; by saying nothing, I was basically letting him know he was right. Finally I lost my cool and let out a gasp that I hadn't even noticed I was holding in. And with it came a wave of tears.

"Please don't tell anyone!" I said between sobs. "I'll do anything you want, anything, I promise! just don't tell anyone!"

"Aaron, he's hurting you. Why are you trying to protect him?"

"Because he's all I have. I already lost mom. I don't want to lose him too! Please, I'll do your homework for a month! I'll carry your books for you! I'll--"

"Aaron, stop," Cody said, reaching out his arm and grabbing my shoulder. I flinched instinctively at the sudden movement and then stared at his hand with blurry eyes before looking up at his face. His brow was furrowed, a serious look on his face.

After a few seconds, I felt his arms wrap around my heaving shoulders and I melted into him. It had been so long since anyone had held me or given me any sort of comfort that I couldn't control myself. Dad would just push me away and tell me that big boys don't cry. And that's if he would admit that I'm a "big boy", as opposed to a stupid little kid. Sometimes he'd hit me to snap me out of it. So my craving for any sort of affection was much greater than the discomfort I felt at publicly embracing another boy. Finally, I realized that his shoulder must have been getting soaked by my tears so I pulled back.

"Sorry," I whispered.

He narrowed his eyes and said, "Don't apologize. You've done nothing wrong. Absolutely nothing."

"But I'm stupid. Clumsy. I fuck everything up."

"Don't say that! It's not true!" He paused and then in a bitter tone he added, "Is that what he's been telling you?"

I shrugged, and then insisted, "It is too true!. Want to know something? I'm the reason my mom is dead. I as good as killed her!"

"Oh, come on. I'm sure it wasn't your fault."

"You weren't there! You don't know! I'm the one that distracted her. I was being selfish. I was mad at her for something stupid. If I hadn't yelled at her she would have seen the light turn red! It's all my fault!"

I don't think Cody knew what to say because he was quiet for several minutes. Or maybe he just knew I needed some time to calm down, and breaking the silence would just disrupt that. In any case, I finally stood up.

"Thanks," I said, holding out a hand to help him up. "For listening, at least. It feels good to not be the only one who knows about it."

"Sure thing," he said, looking at me a little oddly. It seemed like he was having an argument with himself in his head. Finally, one side or the other won out and he quickly blurted, "I have to tell my mom."

"What? No! Why?" I said, suddenly getting anxious. If his mom knew, she'd call the police. If the police knew, they'd take Dad away. If they took Dad away, I'd be stuck in some foster home and they'd treat me even worse. I couldn't let that happen. Life with my dad wasn't too bad.

"Look, I know you don't want me to tell. I know you're scared. But I can't just stand by and watch your dad beat you up. What kind of friend would I be if I didn't get you as far away from danger as possible?"

"I never asked you to be my friend!" I suddenly yelled. "Just... just leave me alone!"

I turned and bolted out of the room. Despite having just wept, the tears were once again making fresh streams down my cheeks as I shoved my way through the throng of surprised students that were making their way to their respective classes. I got to the side door of the school and was just about to throw myself against the bar that would unlatch the door and allow me through when a strong arm grabbed me.

I struggled at first but I couldn't break away from my captor so I finally let my body go limp and, turning slightly, fell backwards so that my back was up to the wall. Sitting down against the wall with my knees bent to my chest and my arms resting on top of them, I wiped my eyes with a sleeve just enough to see who it was that had caught me.

"Mr. Bailey," I heard and immediately recognized both the voice and the face of Mr. Rogers, one of the school administrators. He and I had met early on in the school year when I had started acting out in class. You old people would probably say it's because I'm trying to find attention or get my peers' respect or something. I don't know why I did it, but I know that when I made my classmates laugh, even at me, I didn't feel like so much of a failure.

It's Aaron, my name is Aaron, I thought miserably. Mr. Bailey is my dad. And I hate him. And I don't want to be called that.

But I remained silent, glaring up at him miserably. He lifted me to my feet and said, "Young man, why don't you come along with me. I'll send a note so that Mrs. Ackerman won't need to worry when you don't show up for first period."

I stood without moving for a few seconds. I couldn't tell if I was in trouble or not; Mr. Rogers was a hard man to read. But I didn't really have another option, so I just followed behind him as we walked toward his office. We didn't speak at all along the way--other than Mr. Rogers greeting other adults and reprimanding late students in the hall.

When we finally got to his office, he pointed me to a chair in front of his desk. I sat down slowly since the bruise on my chest was still a little sore. I tried not to grimace so he wouldn't notice anything. That's the last thing I needed: someone else to know.

Before either of us started talking I heard a soft knock on the door. Mr. Rogers said, "Come in," and the knob clicked.

Cody stuck his head and and immediately apologized for interrupting. I just scowled at him, but he seemed to be avoiding my gaze anyway.

"Mr. Rogers, I have something I need to tell you."

"Well, Mr. Anderson, if you'll have a seat right outside there, I'll be with you when I'm done talking with Mr. Bailey, here."

"Oh, umm... it's... it's kind of relevant. And important."

I narrowed my eyes and shook my head a few times at him, but he either didn't notice or just plain ignored me.

Mr. Rogers thought for a moment and then said, "Very well. Mr. Bailey please step outside for a moment, and I will have Mr. Anderson come out and get you when we're done."

I stood slowly and turned toward the door. Now that my face was out of Mr. Roger's line of sight I made sure Cody was watching and mouthed, Please don't tell!

Cody just looked away.

Well, that's it, I thought as I slumped out into the hallway and fell into one of the chairs just outside the door. I heard the doorknob click shut and closed my eyes, leaning my head against the wall.

So now I guess I just wait here until CPS comes and carts me off. I sighed and opened my eyes. The hallway was deserted, the tardy bell having rung several minutes ago. I looked out the window that was across the hall and watched cars go by on the street across the parking lot.

It felt like they were in there a long time. I didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing. Then again, when you're an anxious, scared 12 year old, ten minutes can seem like two hours.

Finally, the door cracked open and Cody's head appeared. "He said you can come in."

I stood up and followed Cody back into the office. There was only one seat on this side of the desk and I let Cody have it. I didn't say anything, deciding to let them tell me what they had discussed.

"So, I was just talking to Mr. Anderson, here," Mr. Rogers began.

I know, get to the point. And why don't you just use our first names? God, I hate people.

"He told me about the situation, how you had been in a hurry on your way to class and had run into his elbow with your face as he was pulling a book out of his locker."

Cody spoke up before I could react. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

My mind was racing and I did all I could to keep from revealing my surprise on my face. Cody had just lied for me. Even after I yelled at him. Even after I was a jerk and threw his kindness back into his face. I asked him not to tell, and he didn't tell.

I swallowed. "Ummm... it's okay."

"Well, now. I suppose this situation is resolved, then, is it not?" Mr. Rogers said with a smile. Cody and I both nodded.

"Alright then, just let me write out a pass for you, Cody, and Aaron you're welcome to stay here and get yourself together. I'm sure it won't be too big of a deal if you miss one period."

Cody took the pass out of Mr. Roger's hand and sidled by me. "Thanks!" I mouthed as he made his way out the door. He winked and then he was gone.

-----

I yawned as the bus pulled up to my stop and I slowly got off. What with my little meltdown this morning I was a bit tired. I just wanted to go home and take a nap. Of course, this time I was going to make sure I remembered to set an alarm so I didn't forget supper like last time. That would not be good.

I was lost in my thoughts as I rounded the corner, walking right into... Derek. He lost no time grabbing me and pulling me along beside him. I tried to pull my arm out of his grasp but he was a few years older than me and a lot stronger. Finally, he pulled me into the backyard of the old, unoccupied house that was several blocks from my own. There was a tall, wooden fence around the perimeter, so no one could see in and we couldn't see out.

"Let me go!" I said, giving one more last ditch effort.

But Derek just smiled smugly and shoved me into the corner so that I had nowhere to run. He said, "You promised me two weeks worth of lunch money, so pay up."

"I... I don't..."

"What's that? No money?" he said raising his eyebrows.

I quietly shook my head and tensed up in anticipation of the first punch.

"Well, that's too bad. Looks like you'll have to do something else for me then."

I swallowed. I doubted anything he wanted me to do would be good. But it would probably be preferable to getting beat up.

"Like... what?"

He glanced over his shoulder once and then said, "On your knees."

"Why?" My heart began to beat faster. I wasn't stupid. I knew what he might be wanting. And I wasn't going to do it.

He positioned his groin right in front of my face and started moving forward. I stood up fast.

"No," I said firmly, trying to push past him. But he was too fast and too strong. He pushed me backward and I was rammed forcefully against the wooden fence. A horizontal support beam was at just the right height to scrape against the small of my back through my shirt. I gritted my teeth against the pain, sucked in a breath, and tried again.

"I'm not doing that," I said loudly. "Just leave me alone."

Derek grabbed me and covered my mouth with one hand so that I couldn't make a noise. "You will do whatever I tell you to do, faggot." He said softly.

I shuddered as I suddenly regained my senses and squirmed against him to try and get away but he had me with both arms. One of his hands held my wrists together behind my back. The other forced me back onto my knees, and then pressed my face against the obvious lump in his crotch.

I realized then that I was powerless to resist. He was just too strong. For the countless time over the past two days I teared up, and eventually submitted.

"Smell," he said softly. I didn't move at first, just staring through wide, blurry eyes up at his face. I don't know why I did it. Maybe I was curious. Maybe I had just given up. Whatever it was, I found myself inhaling deeply through my nose. And was surprised to find that the musky, sweaty, piss smell was not entirely as revolting as I had expected. It wasn't something I wanted to smell, but it wasn't the worst smell I'd experienced. And I was horrified when I felt my own arousal starting to strain at the restrictive fabric of my jeans.

"Yeah, you like that, don't you, faggot?" he said with an evil smile, noticing as well. "Now, unzip me."

With wavering hands, I reached up and gradually undid the fly of his jeans. The smell got a little stronger and he pushed his crotch against my face again. His erection was warm and I was unprepared for the dampness on my cheek as he jabbed his groin at my face. Slowly, he hooked his thumbs beneath the waistband of his pants and lowered his jeans to just below his hips, at which point he let go and they dropped to his feet.

Just as I began coming to terms with what I was about to be forced to do, suddenly, a loud voice said, "Hey!" I threw myself backward against the fence and saw Derek scrambling to pull up his pants. I looked past him and saw none other than Cody standing there, red in the face, looking furiously at Derek.

He held up something I couldn't exactly see, but he was quick to explain what it was. "I got all of what just happened on video, you big pervert. If you so much as touch him again, this is going to the police and you're going to jail!"

Derek's face flashed with fear, but the smug sneer returned quickly, albeit lacking some of the usual bravado.

"Yeah, and what if I just take it from you now and delete it? You're a puny kid, you think you can outrun me?"

Cody narrowed his eyes. "I could outrun you with a broken leg, jackass. And anyway, it's already uploading to my hard drive at home. Gotta love technology, eh?"

Derek frowned, trying to think of what to say next. Finally, he just shrugged and said, "Fine. I leave the faggot alone and you don't show that to anyone. Deal?"

Cody thought for a moment but finally nodded. "Deal." He stepped backward as Derek walked past him, shoving him slightly. Cody watched him go and then turned back to me with a look full of concern.

As soon as Derek had walked away I curled up into a ball with my face hidden in my arm, my shoulders heaving. I was completely humiliated. Not only had I been forced to do things I hadn't really ever dreamt of doing before, especially with another boy, and even more especially with Derek, but I had in some perverse way enjoyed it. At least, the pressure in my groin said I did. And, what's more, Cody had seen it.

I felt a hand on my shoulder and I looked up slowly, swallowing hard against the sob that threatened to overwhelm me. Cody's lips were pressed tightly together and his brow was furrowed. He sat down next to me and put an arm around my shoulder and, once again, just like this morning, he let me weep on his shoulder.

Eventually, I was spent. I couldn't cry anymore. I was just tired. And so comfortable, sitting there with Cody. I looked up and saw that he was watching me. I felt my cheeks grow warm as his lips turned up in a comforting smile.

"You okay?" he said, breaking the silence.

I swallowed and then nodded. I didn't really know what to say, and I doubt I could have spoken right away, anyway; my voice was hoarse from crying.

Neither of us spoke for a few more minutes until I finally felt confident that my voice would work. "Why is it always me? My mom died. My dad hates me and beats me up. Derek takes my money and tries to rape me. I'm a stupid clutz. I fail at everything in school. I can't do anything right. I'm clumsy and awkward. And I think that Derek might have been right. I think I'm..." I hesitated. If I finished that sentence, I risked losing the only good thing I had left: Cody. But I had to say it. It would be lying not to. And if anyone deserved the truth, it was the only person who seemed to give a rat's ass about me. I took a deep breath and finished, "I'm a faggot, okay? And everyone hates me."

Cody didn't react much at all. His expression stayed the same, just a gentle smile. I had been expecting him to leave, to call me a disgusting pervert. But he just sat there and watched me. And for the first time, I noticed an attraction that had really been present for the longest time, I just didn't see it for what it was until now. The way his short, straight blond hair fluttered in the breeze, in stark contrast to my long, black hair. The way his soft, lightly tanned skin seemed to glow and his pale blue-grey eyes sparkled in the sunlight as they stared deep into mine. The way his lips curved up in a beautiful smile. And got closer to mine. And...

Oh my God. He's kissing me! I don't know how it didn't register in my brain that our faces had actually been gravitating towards each other. But now our lips were touching. Just lightly, nothing extravagant or intense or passionate. Just a sincere, tender kiss. In that moment I was attuned to my senses. I could feel my heart pounding quickly in my chest. I could feel his soft fingers gently brushing my hair. A warmth I hadn't felt in such a long time stirred in my chest and stomach. And as we pulled apart I did something I hadn't done since I could remember. I genuinely smiled. My tongue lingered on my lip where his own lips had just been.

"Aaron Bailey," Cody whispered. It made my heart skip a beat just to hear my name on his tongue. "Not everyone hates you. I love you."

We held each other for several minutes. Or maybe several hours. Time didn't matter to me. Or well, it sort of did, actually. I noticed the sun starting to get lower and checked my watch. I would need to be home before long if I wanted to have something substantial ready for dad to eat when he got home.

"I should go. My dad will be expecting..." I almost said 'supper' but I realized it would be weird for me to explain that dad made me make his supper every night. "...me," I finally said.

"Yeah, me too."

We slowly got up, untangling ourselves from each other. Our fingers lingered against each other and I blushed as we were both made conscious of what we had just done. I stared into his eyes, letting him search my own. I was looking for any sign that this was anything other than what it seemed. Perfection. Love.

"Is this real?" I said, blushing again at how I realized I sounded, like a little kid. But hell, I was 12. It's not like I wasn't a little kid.

Cody didn't answer verbally at first, instead pulling me back into an embrace and once again pressing his lips against mine.

"Did that feel real?" he asked with a bashful smile. "It felt real to me."

I returned the smile and we both walked toward the gate to exit the back yard of the unoccupied house. From there we lived in opposite directions, so I grabbed his hand before we went our separate ways.

"Thanks," I said.

He nodded and we shared a final smile before turning and each heading home. Of course, we both had our share of backward glances. Eventually he was out of sight and I realized exactly how wonderful I was feeling. It felt like I was floating on air. I was happy, like I hadn't felt in so long, since before mom died. I felt like nothing could make me feel worse.

Until I saw my dad's car sitting in the driveway. "What!?" I muttered, my heart sinking to my feet. "Why isn't he at work?" And then I noticed a second car parked along the road next to the driveway. I hesitated with a furrowed brow. Dad hadn't mentioned company. I forced myself to continue walking. Maybe I could slip in without him noticing. Maybe I wouldn't have to cook dinner since he was home. Maybe he wouldn't hit me since someone else was here.

I turned the doorknob slowly and slipped inside. The coast was clear for me to get to the stairs, but I winced as the door creaked on its hinges when I closed it behind me.

"Where have you been, boy?" I froze and noticed my dad sitting on the couch with a beer in one hand. Next to him sat another man, equally repugnant.

Is he ever not drunk? I wondered. But I had to think fast for a good excuse. I couldn't exactly say, Oh, I was just kissing one of my friends. "I, umm, stayed after school to study math," I lied.

"Well, get your ass over here and say hello to Mr. Smith." I eyed the man cautiously from where I stood in the doorway before walking slowly over toward them on the couch. I could see the man eyeing me as well, though it wasn't caution in his face. It was something else... hunger? Lust? Whatever it was, it made me incredibly uncomfortable.

I slowly stretched out my right hand, offering it as a handshake. He took it and looked me in the eye, a creepy smile on his face. "Hello, Aaron."

How does he know my name? Who is he? Why is he here? I looked questioningly at my dad, who looked uninterested in the whole thing.

"We need a little more money this month so you're going to do some modeling for this man. Just do whatever he says and let me know when you're done." Dad stood up and headed toward the kitchen, probably to grab another beer.

"But, I have a black eye. How can I model--"

"It's not your face he'll be taking pictures of." It didn't take long for me to realize what he meant. My heart dropped to my feet. Oh my God. Oh my God. What the... okay, stay calm. I found myself rooted to the spot. I couldn't make my legs move, no matter how much I wanted to turn and run.

I swallowed and stood up straight, leaning slightly away from the strange man that was still holding my hand from our handshake. I glanced at our hands and he finally let go before turning and reaching for a camera I hadn't noticed before.

I felt a chill go down my spine. This wasn't happening. There's no way this could be happening. How could Dad do this to me? His own son!

"Well, go ahead. Off with the shirt and jeans."

--------

Why did I do it? Why did I let it happen? I could have run. I could have fought back. I could have said no.

And now as I lay alone in my bed, still undressed--naked, in fact, though I had my blanket on top of me--I felt a wide range of emotions. Shame, fear, anger, loneliness, abandonment, and even more that I couldn't put a finger on.

We needed the money, I told myself. I was just doing my part. And even without that, one of the reasons I hadn't just turned and ran on the spot was that I was exhausted. What with the whole incident this morning combined with the episode with Derek after school, I had been too tired to care.

I swallowed to keep from crying. But I couldn't shake the feeling of emptiness in the pit of my stomach. Any warmth I had found from my time with Cody this afternoon was long gone, replaced with a hollow void.

"I'm a coward. A stupid, spineless, good-for-nothing coward," I hissed into my pillow. I had just given up my innocence without so much as saying, "No". I had let a man I had never even met record permanent images of my most personal, private parts.

Now some old pervert's going to get off looking at it. That's what I am: a jackoff aid. An object. Not a person. Not someone worthy of the love of someone so perfect, so amazing.

The next morning at school I didn't say anything to Cody. I couldn't even meet his eye. I could tell he was worried, perhaps afraid that I was having reservations about what we had done. But in truth I just felt unworthy to look upon such perfection. He was so much better than me. That's really all there was to it. He wouldn't have given himself up so easily. He would've fought back.

I kind of coasted through school, not really paying attention at all, numb to everything. I got in trouble for it in multiple classes. But finally the bell rang and I was allowed to go to catch my bus. As usual, I took my spot in the back and proceeded to stare out the window until I felt someone sit down next to me. I glanced over and was surprised to see, of all people, Cody. He just nodded in greeting and I returned it, but neither of us spoke. We got off together and he walked with me toward my house. I didn't know how far he was going to go with me. Maybe he was just trying to make sure Derek didn't try to rape me again. In any case, I was glad when he stopped and turned toward me; I didn't know what to expect when I got home. Would Mr. Smith be back? How often was I expected to do... that?

"Aaron, what's wrong? Are you mad at me?" His voice was full of anxiety, fear that I might be upset at our intimacy. But it was a misplaced fear because I could never be mad at him.

"No," I finally muttered, but I still didn't meet eye.

"Then what's wrong? I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable yesterday when we... kissed." He glanced around to make sure no one had heard us. But there was no one around to hear us, so he continued. "I was just trying to make you feel better."

I frowned. "Was that it? Just to make me feel better?" I had thought it was more than that. But no, why would someone actually love me? I'm not a person, I'm a thing.

"No, I mean... It wasn't just that. I meant what I said, every word. I still do. And I meant the kiss. But... I do want to make you happy. And now it seems like you're unhappy because of it."

I shook my head. "That's not why I'm..."

God fucking damn it. I had as good as admitted I was unhappy. I couldn't necessarily have denied it, but now I would have to explain it. I didn't say anything, so he pushed forward.

"Well then, what is it?" His voice got soft. "Did your dad hit you again?" I shook my head. His lowered his voice even more and bent in closer. "Did he... touch you..." I hesitated a little, but shook my head again. He was getting closer, but I had little hope that he would even think to guess what had actually happened.

"Well, then what is it?"

I shook my head. "I can't... I can't tell you." My face grew hot just thinking about it.

His voice rose an octave. "Dude, you're scaring me. You're putting up with so much shit and I just want to tell someone. Please let me. I hate seeing you like this."

I looked up at him, my eyes suddenly blurry. "I want to but... I'm scared." Of course, 'scared' wasn't an adequate description of my emotions. Terrified, maybe. Horrified. Something. Is there a stronger adjective for that? I lowered my voice and muttered, "Shit, I'm a fucking coward."

Cody pulled me into a hug, no longer really caring if anyone else was around to see what we were doing. "Damn it, Aaron, you are not a coward. You're the bravest person I know. But please... let me help you," he whispered. "You don't have to do this alone. Let me just tell my parents. You can come home with me now, you don't even have to go back to your place."

"But what will happen if they take dad?" I asked, finally expressing one of my fears. "What will happen to me?"

I watched as a tear trickled down Cody's cheek. It hurt me to see him cry, more so because it was about me. "I don't know," he said. "But whatever happens will be better than what you're going through now. Come on, man, don't make me stand there and watch you hurt. I can't do it."

If not for what I let happen yesterday, I would probably have still insisted that he keep his mouth shut. But now, my fear of having to endure such a shameful experience again outweighed the fear of what might happen if I let out my little secret.

"Okay. You're right. I can't do that anymore." I said softly. I took a deep breath. "I'm ready."

-----

To be continued (to some extent).

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