Date: Thu, 27 Apr 2000 12:51:21 -0700 (PDT) From: Dewey Subject: For the love of Pete Ch.9 This story is a work of erotic fiction involving teenage boys partially based on real people and events. Names have been changed to protect the guilty as well as the innocent. All the usual rules apply. If you shouldn't be reading this now, then don't continue on. ----------------------- I am also posting my stories to another site: http://www.teenboyauthors.org/aww/index.asp This site publishes only love stories, not quick sex stories. Since you're still reading this series, you may want to check it out. My newest chapters will be posted at this site exclusively for one week prior to submitting them to Nifty. ----------------------- Copyright Notice - Copyright (c)April 2000 by Dewey. This story is copyrighted by the author and the author retains all rights. You may distribute, copy, or print this story however you like, PROVIDED this copyright notice remains intact and you do not change the story in any way. Also you may not charge any fee to anyone to distribute or access this story. For the Love of Pete Chapter Nine => For the Love of Brian <= I didn't know what she had planned until the morning she took me away. When I saw Brian, my heart broke. It was all I could do to not break the hold Mother had on my neck and run to him. She must have sensed my thoughts because her grip tightened painfully. It tightened even more when I spoke to him, telling him I understood and I was sorry. I was shoved in the car and told not to say another word. Slamming the door, she wheeled on Brian and said something to him that made him turn white. She then got in the car, started the engine, and backed down the driveway. I tried to tell him I loved him as the car backed up. Brian stood rooted in the driveway, looking as if he was stunned and couldn't move. Mother put the car in drive and pulled away from his house. I turned around in my seat to watch him for as long as I could. "Turn around and sit down this instant. Your going to cause a wreck." I ignored her until the car crested the hill, and I saw Brian fall to his knees and scream to the sky. That was the last thing I saw, and that image is burned into my mind even today. We drove to the airport, dropping the car at long term parking. She resumed her grip on the scruff of my neck, ensuring she had me under control every time she could. I think she was afraid I would run away. If I'd had more guts, I would have. She didn't even speak to me except to bark commands. We boarded the plane for the two hour flight to Portland, Oregon. As the plane lifted off the ground, something snapped inside, and I turned on her. I said, "Taking me away isn't going to change the fact that I am gay." Her response was swift and unexpected. She reached over and slapped my face hard. "You are not gay. That boy made you think you were. I don't want to hear you say anything like that again! Do you hear me?" The other passengers around us looked on with mute fascination or horror. "This changes nothing. I am gay. And you are no better than Dad. You even hit me like he wanted to. No. You are no longer my mother." She slapped me again, harder. I lapsed into silence. I was stuck by her in the window seat, so I couldn't escape that way. I could have provoked her more, but I didn't want to get beat on. So I sat there, silent and meek. The plane landed in Portland right on time. As we deplaned, she tried to grab my neck again, but I whirled on her, furious. I was blocking the aisle as I stared in her eyes. "Where am I gonna go, huh? You don't need a leash now that you've safely gotten me away from my boyfriend." I was embarrassing the hell out of her, but I kept going. "You will not touch me again. Don't push me on this. If I have to, I'll defend myself." She tried to turn me around and get me moving again, but I knocked her hand aside. "This is your last warning. Next time, I hit back." I turned around and walked out of the plane. She didn't try to touch me again. We took the long hike from gate C23 to the baggage claim, and found our bags just getting on the carousel. After grabbing them, we headed outside and met my grandmother, whom I hadn't seen since I was really little. I didn't really remember her, and had had forgotten that my grandparents even lived up here. I figured we would be staying with them until we got our feet under us. We drove for about fifty minutes, finally ending up at the grandparents place. It was about thirty miles outside of Portland, off of highway 26 west of Hillsboro. Gramma told me they owned about 30 acres out there, most of it hilly woodland. It was huge compared to the four acres we had down in California. Later I learned that Gramma and Grampa had horses, cows, chickens, a garden, and best of all, a motorcycle. It was a beat up old Kawasaki 125. Grampa said it still ran but needed a tune up. He would teach me how to work on the bike if I wanted, and I took him up on it. The motorcycle gave me the freedom to get away when I wanted, to be alone when I needed to, and to avoid Mother. The only requirement set on me (besides a helmet, of course, was that I had to take a two-way radio with me and check in about every half hour or so. I was glad to do that. It made me feel safer knowing that they would come looking if I didn't check in. Once we got settled, I took to avoiding Mother like the plague. It wasn't hard. Mother was out looking for work, and later on, working, while I was on summer break. After he was convinced I wasn't going to kill myself on the bike or any other way, Grampa left me to my own devices, but he always made it clear he was available to me at any time. Two weeks after we arrived, I asked him what Mother had told him about why we were up there. "She told us that Joe was beating the two of you. But I think there is more to the story judging from the way you and your mom treat each other." I debated telling him the truth. He was old and old people usually couldn't handle someone being gay. But I needed someone to talk to. I had to chance it. "Grampa, I met this guy down there" I explained what happened from the time Brian and I came out to each other up until I arrived in Portland. "Grampa, I am gay, and I know that in my heart. It's not a phase. Believe me, except for Brian, I wish I wasn't. I really loved him. I guess I'm suppressing the pain." His reaction to all this surprised me. "I thought this might be headed that way. Look son, we haven't met but twice that I can recall, and I doubt you can remember. So having you here now is like meeting a new grandson for me. You may not be aware of this, knowing Brenda, but you have a cousin in New York and one in Boston that are gay. Do I think any less of them for it? Of course not. Being gay is a part of them and makes them who they are. Now why should I think less of you?" He grinned. "Besides, now that I know, I can tease you about all the good looking friends you'll have over." His face sobered again. "I can't say I like the way Brenda treats you. But I want you to know you'll be safe here, no matter what happens, short of you killing someone. I'll tell your Grandma, and she'll be fine with it. Maybe between us, we can temper your mom's responses a bit. We'll see. But don't hesitate to come to one of us if you need anything. Anything at all." I couldn't believe how cool this old guy was taking everything. I finally had someone besides Brian I could be myself with, who loved me for who I was, not for what I was supposed to be. It may seem that losing Brian didn't hurt me. Absolutely untrue. I distracted myself so I wouldn't think of him. When I did, I started crying. I hate to cry. But when I did, I was usually deep in the woods, where no one could see me. So I kept myself busy. I took over part of the chores like feeding and brushing the horses, feeding the cows and chickens, that kind of thing. Grampa and I rebuilt the motorcycle engine and it ran like a champ. We turned it into a 150cc, too. Another project we started working on was an old junker Grampa had in the back of the house near the shed. It was in serious need of work from the body to the interior. Grampa told me that if we got it running and fixed up by the time I turned 16, he would give it to me as an early graduation present. Another obsession in the making. He even paid for all the parts out of his pocket. Eventually Mother found us an apartment in Aloha, about six miles from the grandparent's farm. It was a small two bedroom place, with just enough space in my room to change my mind. I didn't want to move in, but Gramma and Grampa insisted that I go and give Mother a chance. I reluctantly agreed and quickly regretted it. Mother had an obsession with me being gay. She would bird dog me when she was home, watching for some sign of "gayness", and yell at me when she found one. This went on for almost two years. One day I was really down, just after we moved into the apartment. I tried to call Brian for the first time. After dialing the number, and automatic message came up. "The number you have dialed has been blocked. If you wish to..." Mother had blocked out his number. I even tried from Grampa's place, but it was blocked there, too. I asked him about it and he said Mother made him promise to block the number, and he wouldn't break a promise once given. I tried to think of what to do next. I had some money, but not enough for a long phone call. There was no one else I knew that could help. It was hopeless. So, I wrote him a letter every now and then, but he didn't respond. I don't even know if he got them. I started school, and everything seemed to be going fine, though I didn't enjoy it much without Brian to share my jokes with or talk to. They assigned me to advanced math, science, and English. Everything else was just like it had been in California, except Brian wasn't here. I didn't like to dwell on that. I went out for the football team and made it, taking a linebacker position. I wasn't especially good, but I held my own. My coach turned out to be a gay basher. I took special pleasure trying to knock him on his ass at every opportunity. And the same for the rest of those intolerant bastards, too. The only real cool thing at school was the Gay Support Group that met Tuesday afternoons after school in the Library. I started going after football season ended, and found not just kids my age, but ranging from 11 to 18. Everyone was welcome at these meetings, gay, bi, or straight. The purpose was to help anyone who was gay, or knew someone that was. It was really cool to hear that other people were going through some of the same stuff I was. No one pressured me to talk. I just started one day in January. I spewed everything, and everyone was really supportive and understanding, offering some advice as to how to deal with my separation from Brian and the isolation from my mother. No one insulted us or teased us, even if they knew we were going to the support group. I heard about the guy who came into the meeting one time and started blasting fags. He was suspended for two weeks, and would be expelled if he did it again. It was at the meeting I first spoke that I met my first friend. His name was Ray, and he was gay. He was about a year older than me and lived in a foster home because his parents had kicked him out two years ago. His house was about three miles from my apartment and my grandparent's farm. We even had the same interests in fixing cars and riding bikes. We rode all over the hills, just enjoying each others company. I did make it clear to him that all I wanted right now was a friendship and nothing more. All he said was, "Cool. I understand," with a slight smile. I had thought about it, but if I were to go after him as a boyfriend, I would be disloyal to Brian, and I wasn't over him in the least. Ray and I started hanging together in town, going to movies or grabbing burgers for lunch. We talked about everything and nothing, from family to cute boys, bikes and cars, fears and dreams. Ray was a stocky kid, good looking but built like a fireplug. He had red hair and freckles all over, and was muscular, too muscular for his frame. The overall effect was that his body overshadowed his face, and people thought him ugly. I asked him one time about how he got so muscular. He told me that when he was a kid they gave him a hormone for some illness he had. The problem was he had just started his growth spurt, and the meds stopped his spurt cold. The end result was he had shoulders built for a man six-feet-five, but would only grow to be five-feet-eight or so. Of course, Mother hated Ray on sight. When I introduced him to her (and I'll never understand why I thought it necessary), she outright accused me of having sex with him, while he was present in the room. I laughed in her in her face, and we walked out of the apartment, not paying attention to her calls to return. I never invited Ray over to either my place or my grandparents place if there was a remote chance she would be there. She went as far as to forbid me from seeing him. I ignored her. Ray knew why I had stopped inviting him over, and said he understood. "My parents kicked me out immediately after I told them I was gay. They gave me fifteen minutes to get everything I wanted, and the rest was sold or thrown out. But it was the best thing they ever did for me. My foster family is great. They understand what I am going through, and even joke around with me about being gay. They're always asking if I think this guy or that guy is cute. Jason was even trying to set me up with one of his friends! None of them are shy, and I can open up to them. They are trying to get those people to give up their parental rights so I can be adopted." He always referred to his biological parents as "those people". I thought is was so cool that he had the Pattersons in his life. I wished I had someone that understanding in mine. Ray introduced me to the Pattersons about a month after we met. Kevin Patterson, Ray's foster father, was a lawyer by trade, slightly built with a balding pate. He reminded me of Bulldog on Fraiser. He was happy, boisterous, and generally fun to be around. He was a teenager at heart. Sharon I recognized as the facilitator of the support group where Ray and I met. She was a cheerful woman, built well with all the right curves. I noticed, however, that she had a serious side to her. Overall, she balanced Kevin's teen-like enthusiasm well. Jason Patterson was a senior in high school, extremely good looking, and straight as an arrow. He was, however, cool about Ray's orientation. They had long, serious talks about their differences, and had mutual respect for each other. Little Joanne was a doll at six years old, and couldn't understand all the fuss. She won my heart in an instant. As I walked into their house for the first time on a Saturday afternoon, Ray called the whole family together except Joanne. What he said to them surprised me because of his openness. "This is Pete Jameson. I met him in the support group. He is gay, but we are just friends. We have the same hobbies and it's a natural fit. Besides, he's cute, ain't he?" Ray grinned and tagged me on the shoulder. Everyone introduced themselves. Sharon hugged me and told me I was welcome anytime. Kevin shook my hand heartily and smiled, saying, "Ray is right. You are cute." I blushed appropriately. Jason shook my hand also, but was more restrained than his father. "Nice to meet you Pete. I look forward to getting to know you better." Joanne picked that time to rush into the room, and practically ran me over. The little tyke was strong! She hugged my legs until Kevin dragged her off of me, distracting her with a cookie. Sharon pulled me aside, and motioned Ray to wait. She led me into the dining room and sat. I did likewise. "I noticed you recognized me from the support group, so maybe you'll understand where I'm coming from. I like to ask questions of boys I meet in your position. It may seem as if I am prying, but the mother in me wants to know who you are, where you come from, and what we can do to help you along, if help is needed. So I'm asking you to tell me your story, from when you first realized you were gay, who you came out to, what happened afterward, the whole bit. I want to be able to help you, but I have to KNOW you first. Does that seem fair?" Ray had told me it was okay to be honest here, so I told her what she wanted to know, from my failure to perform, to the flight that brought me here. She listened attentively and asked questions occasionally. She teared up a few times, looked pissed a few times. The whole thing felt like I was talking to a shrink. Well, she was a shrink, and really knew how to relate to boys. After I finished my story, she came around the table and hugged me. "If you ever feel the need, you come here, okay? It doesn't matter what time of day, just promise me you'll come here. We will help you. That is what we do." Sharon then told me of another son they had. He was a perfect son, except he was gay. He didn't know how to deal with it, and thought that Kevin and Sharon would kick him out. He got severely depressed, and eventually committed suicide. With tears in her eyes, she told me that this is what prompted her to getting involved at the school, and eventually, fostering Ray. Kevin had been a family lawyer, but now focused on helping gay people when they needed a lawyer. Sharon made it clear to me that their house was the first place I would go if anything happened, and she also gave me their phone numbers if I had to talk to one of them. She released me and I went back into the family room. Ray stood as I came back in, asking, "Did she give you the talk?" "Yup. She sounds determined." "They all are. Losing Jeff was a disaster for them. That happened about four years ago. Jason is planning on studying adolescent psychology when he goes into college next year. He has a real head start with Sharon, though, and also what he learned from Jeff's death. Even without his mom, he's good. We talked a lot when I first came here. I think the conversations we had were the ones he didn't have a chance to have with Jeff. Jason asked me everything he could think of. Still does. Questions like how did I know I was gay, what I felt, what it was like when I saw a hot guy, everything else I was going through. Some of it I can't answer. But there have been times I've come home from school ready to kill something, and he always talks me down. Jason has a talent for working with kids. He was a counselor at camp for three years. "Sometimes he lets me hang with his friends. They all know about me and are cool." Ray paused a moment, trying to gather his thoughts once more. "I love Jason like a brother. Hell, I love them all. You'll see what I mean as you get to know them." I hoped that I would be around long enough. Obviously I couldn't tell Mother about them, and maybe I'd best not tell Grampa or Gramma, either. The thought of having to hide things from my grandparents made me sick to my stomach, but I believed it was necessary to keep them in the dark. Ray and I went upstairs to his room, which used to be Jeff's. The Patterson's had agreed to foster Ray shortly after Jeff died, kind of like a penance, but the situation worked out. I could see it in the looks that Sharon and Kevin gave their kids. All of them. Ray was included. I really hoped the adoption would go through. Someone deserved to be happy, why not Ray? I wouldn't be happy again until I had Brian back, that much I knew. I realized that I hadn't been feeling the pain, guilt, or fear that surrounded me, and I was just beginning to realize what all that was about, but I didn't have a safe place to let it all come out. Maybe I could with Kevin, Sharon, and Jason. Time would tell. After class one day, I got up the nerve to call Brian again from a pay phone. Lisa answered the phone. "Hello?" "Hi Lisa, this is Pete." "Hello, Pete. How are you?" "I'm doing okay. Is Brian there?" "No, he's out somewhere... we don't see that much of him around here anymore." "Could you give him my phone number?" I gave her my number, and then asked, "How is he?" "He took it hard. He misses you." "I miss him too. Tell him I called and that I love him." "I'll tell him you called." "Thank you, Bye." "Good bye." After the phone conversation I felt more alone than usual. Lisa didn't even sound excited that I called or anything. I wondered if she would actually tell him I called. For that matter, I wondered if she was hiding my letters to him. Was she trying to keep us apart even though I was a thousand miles away? As the weeks and months passed, I found myself spending more time at the Patterson's house, less with my grandparents, and avoiding my mother's apartment completely. The apartment wasn't mine, it was Mother's. Every time I came home, it was more and more obvious. We got into one hell of a row one night when I came back from Ray's place, about a year after we moved up there. It was so bad that our neighbors called in the cops. When they got there, my mother was still raving about her fagot son fucking anything he could get his hands on, even that poor child, Ray. The cops separated us, and released me into my grandparents custody. I though I hid it pretty well, the anger and the hurt, but Grampa and Gramma saw right through the mask I had put on. They held me close, and I let loose some of that awful gut-wrenching pain. I cried for a while, enough to take the edge off so I could function. That night I made up my mind to get out of the apartment somehow. For starters, I asked Mother if I could move in with Grampa. She was immediately suspicious. The reasons I gave her were that everything I did was over there anyway, the bike and the car, the horses. Plus, she was never home to help me with my homework (like she ever did), and Gramps and Gram were always home. She scrutinized my face, looking for any hint of deceit. Finding none, she allowed me to move, probably thinking that she wouldn't have to deal with her fagot son anymore. Gram and Gramps were both, if not excited, at least understanding, and knew why I wanted to move. They accepted me back into their home with grace, and reminded me of the rules of the house. I would have my chores during the week, but the weekend was mine. Gramps went so far as to have Mother sign guardianship over to them, but it was revocable at any time. This arrangement was fine with me. I notified the school of the change of address and emergency contact numbers. Now, it may seem unusual to you that Mother would do this, but she had other interests beside me, like her new boyfriend Carl. I met him a couple times before he moved in with us. Mother had been dating him for a year before I moved. He reminded me of my father in almost every detail. He was built like him, acted like him, and spoke like him, right down to the insults. He really had a field day when Mother told him I was gay. I'll spare you the details, but I did wear some bruises. It was the next week I asked for the move. The school year ended. Ray and I were inseparable, but it was purely platonic. We would spend days at the farm, and then turn around and spend days at his place. His family even invited me to go with them for their yearly vacation down the Oregon coast, a two week trip. Of course, Gramps and Gram let me go. The really cool thing was that all the kids got to bring a friend on the trip, if their parents said yes. Ray brought me, Joanne brought a little friend named Holly, and Jason brought a guy in the class behind him that he had played sports with. His name was Jared. He was, without a doubt, the most beautiful person I had ever seen. I couldn't help but stare at him when we were introduced. Ray had to punch my arm to get my attention. Man was I embarrassed, but I guess that Jason had told him about me, and Jared seemed to be mildly amused by my reaction to him. He was friendly, and in my observation, went out of his way to include Ray and I in their activities. Jared had light brown hair, green eyes, and had fine facial features. He reminded me of Scott Wolf on Party of Five. Later on, I saw that his body was sculpted. He looked like the David statue, he was that hot. I still stared at him occasionally, but was able to redirect my attention if needed. I think that Jared was enjoying having me stare at him. He would just give me a small smile when he caught me. Ray would give me a big punch when he caught me, but I think he was amused more than angry. We hiked around, played Frisbee and football, fished, and generally had a great time on the way down the coast on highway 101. The whole family even rode dune buggies just outside of Florence. It took us four days to make it to our campsite. It was a state park outside of a little town called Brookings. We stopped at another state park before going into town. It was called Whaleshead State Park. I remember this because there is a huge rock in the middle of the cove that looks like a whale coming up out of the water. We watched the waves for a while, and then saw how this beach got it's name. Out the side of that rock came a jet of water, looking like a whales spout. It was a beautiful sight. We drove on another seven miles until we came into Brookings. The population sign said 3500 people lived here. From what I gathered, this place was really a retirement town, but here and there I saw kids too. There was a plywood mill dominating the center of town, with it's tall smokestack belching out black smoke. The wind was blowing out to sea, so the exhaust rapidly disappeared in the quickening breeze. The main drag through town was Highway 101. As we drove through town, it looked kind of like we were back in the fifties, the buildings old fashioned, some falling down. I didn't even see a McDonalds. Finally we reached the end of town and turned onto a winding river road. Following for eight miles, we found the campground tucked away in the trees. It consisted of a loop of pavement about _ of a mile long, with campsites on either side at 25 foot intervals under the myrtlewood and alder trees. I got a sudden pang for my house in California. I loved the trees there. It was where Brian and I had spent our time. Ray had noticed me go silent as I thought, and nudged me. "You okay, dude?" "Yeah. I was just remembering old stuff. My old house was in the woods like this, except the trees there were pine and fir." Ray sensed my sadness and patted me on the shoulder, whispering, "It's okay to feel sad. Especially since... well... that's where Brian is." He sounded strange, like his heart wasn't in his words. Even so, he caught me by surprise. I looked at him with wide eyes. I had been trying to avoid thinking of him for months now because the pain was to great to endure. Blinking my eyes furiously, I tried to will the tears away, but with every passing moment more tears came, until I finally broke down and started crying. Ray gently pulled me to his body, much like Brian had done for me. I rested my forehead against his shoulder and cried myself out. Jason and Jared looked on in sympathy. Kevin and Sharon said nothing. I felt a small hand on my back. "Why are you crying? Are you hurt?" Joanne was concerned, I could tell. Reassuring her, I finally stopped the waterworks and told her that old memories had made me sad. "Oh. Well, don't remember them, then." And with that, the problem was solved for her. For me, all I could do was rededicate myself to finding a way back to my love. I would bring it up sometime this week and see if Kevin and Sharon had any ideas. We spent the days in Brookings hiking around and swimming in the Chetco River, fishing, rafting, just being boys. Jason and Jared decided that they were going to hang out with us and be boys too. Next week was soon enough to act like the men they were expected to be. The weather was warm, so we ran around in swim trunks and nothing else. Sunscreen was liberally applied, too. Ray volunteered to put the lotion on Jason's back, so I naturally rubbed the cream into Jared's back. Then we switched places and they returned the favor. It must have been my imagination, but I thought that Jared was enjoying rubbing my back. Occasionally his hand would slip around to my side for a stroke or two, then he would go to my back again. He finished up at the same time as Jason, however, and off we went to the water. We had chicken fights, Ray on Jason, and me on Jared. Our teams were pretty evenly matched, but the slimy rocks in the water dumped us more often than we dunked each other. We dove off of a convenient rock in the middle of the river, too. The water was about 15 feet deep on the one side, but the other side had a sandbar that we could stand on. It turned out that Jared was on the dive team and swim team at school, and he agreed to teach us the basics of diving. I guess I learned slowly, because he spent some extra time working with me for a couple of days, correcting my form and technique. It was all I could do to keep from getting aroused as he put his hands on me, positioning my body for various dives. "You have a real talent for diving, Pete. I think you might want to consider joining the team when you get back to school." He moved behind me and raised my arms over my head, positioning my hands properly for entry into the water. "You have a great body, Pete." Okay, so maybe it wasn't my imagination after all. I turned around to face him. "Is there something I should know? Jason told you about me, right?" "Yeah, he told me you are gay." "Are you?" "What?" "Gay! You have been putting your hands on me every chance you get. You enjoy putting sunscreen on my back just a little bit, right?" "Yeah, I guess." He was starting to get a panicked look on his face, and I could see him tensing up to run from me. I didn't want to scare him, all I needed to do was clear the air so there were no secrets. I reached out to him and put both hands on his shoulders. "Jared, you are one of the most beautiful people I have ever met. If I was free to, I would fall for you so hard that they'd have to scrape me off the sidewalk with a spatula. But I am committed to Brian. We can be friends until the tension gets to be too much, but if I feel tempted to betray him, I'm going to have to clear out." I squeezed his shoulders for emphasis. "I can see the answer to my question in your eyes. Believe me, it's okay. I'm not going to leave you hanging. I know what it is to be abandoned. I could learn to love you rather quickly. But I love Brian more than anything, and will forever. Even if it is a hopeless situation." I hate it when I tear up. And it always happens when I talk about Brian. "I can tell that you mean what you say. Tell me about Brian. I have heard a little bit from Jason, but not enough. I do want to be good friends with you, so I'd like to know what happened that made you fall in love with him." I wore a hesitant expression, not because I didn't want to tell HIM, but because I didn't want to go through the emotional roller coaster. "Please? I can already tell you miss him." "Let's go someplace not so public, okay? This could get messy." He nodded in understanding and led me to a little cove we had found earlier that week that hid us from the beach. I could already feel the tears building, and I hadn't said a word yet. We got settled in , laying in the sun on a gravel bar that was there, enjoying the warmth. "Brian is the most beautiful person I ever met, inside and out. We met in the fifth grade...." It did get messy. I told my familiar story, cried, regained control, and cried some more. Jared sat quietly, asking questions occasionally, and holding me as I cried. As I told Jared about my dad, he started weeping too. We held each other for about 15 minutes, just letting the tears fall, until I could continue. Jared was the best. I think he felt my pain as I told him everything. At the end, he hugged me hard and just said "I'm so sorry," over and over. Rocking gently, we finally released each other and exchanged sheepish grins. I felt strangely better than I had in months, probably because I had just let out months worth of pain, and was relieved at being able to express it. "Thank you, Pete. I know that wasn't easy, but now I understand why you feel like you do. I hope that I can still be your friend." "Of course you can! I just needed to tell you where I am coming from, so there are no misunderstandings." "That's cool. Thanks. I guess I should return the favor. Ready to hear about my boring life?" He asked that with a sardonic half smile, waiting for my response. "Sure, but how can a guy like you have a boring life? The girls must be all over you! And how do you fend them off, anyway?" His laugh was one of the sweetest things I had heard. Clear, bright, and real. "All in good time. I was born and raised in Santa Barbara. My father worked for a hard disk manufacturer there as a manufacturing engineer. The company underwent corporate down sizing, so we moved to Portland, where he got a job at Intel. Now he is an equipment engineer in the lithography department. Anyway, I was 10 when we moved. I got into school immediately, and made a lot of friends. A couple of years passed and middle school was cool. I went out for football, basketball, track, anything that came around. I was 12 when I figured out I liked guys, but it wasn't until I was 13 that I put the word 'gay' together with my attraction to boys. "My parent's and I have always been close, and I told them right away. They always told me I could come to them with anything, and have proved it to me over and over, so I went to them with this, too. They were so cool about it. The first word out of my dad's mouth was 'So?'. Mom then told me that it didn't change a thing as far as they were concerned. They just wanted me to be happy. "It makes me feel guilty, a little bit, having such cool parents while you and Ray had such bastards for yours." "That's stupid. Why do you feel guilty for something that wonderful? You have a loving, caring family, and you should feel good that you have them. Ray and I have dealt with our families one way or another, and then we moved on. Like Ray says, it is the best thing they could have done for us, to give us to someone who truly cares. So don't you feel bad for having someone who loves you for who you are." I grinned "It just happens that the people that care about you have the same blood. But don't think that what Ray has is any less significant. "He loves them all like they are his real family. I love them too, and my grandparents are so cool. They understand me because they raised an aunt and uncle that are gay too. So don't worry about us." I smiled at him. He grinned back. "Okay, I'll try not to. You ready to head back for lunch?" "Sure, let's go. I just realized how hungry I am." We scampered across the bar and dove into the water for the swim back to campground. The water was shockingly cold after the hot sun on the beach. We made it back to camp to see Ray and Jason finishing up their lunch. "Where have you guys been? We looked for you and didn't find you." Ray had a kind of hurt expression on his face, jealous maybe. "I'm sorry Ray, but Jared and I had a few things to discuss, and I needed to tell him about Brian." "Why?" "Because I had to make sure we were all on the same playing field." I looked to Jared for help, and he came through. "Ray, I'm gay. Pete wanted to make sure I knew that he was taken." "By Brian?" I nodded. Ray's face turned angry. "When are you gonna realize that you aren't going to be able to go back to him? What are you going to do, run away? Ask your grand parents to move? Huh!? Why can't you like me?" All I could do was stare at him in mute horror. "RAY!" Jason's voice held a note of command I'd not heard before. I could see Ray's face change from anger to shock as he realized what he had said. I felt suddenly detached from my body, like I was looking down on the scene from above. I could see myself standing there, and Ray starting to tear up. Jared stood next to me in silence, a concerned, caring look on his face as he gazed at me. With a horrified expression on his face, Ray turned and bolted. As he did, I slammed back into my body with such force I fell to the ground, landing on my knees. I didn't feel anything. No pain, no anger, no sadness. I was completely numb, vaguely hearing Jason calling for his mom, and then running after Ray. Later I would recall that Kevin followed Ray and Jason. Shifting my weight to the left, I slid off my knees onto my butt, still looking after where Ray had torn through the underbrush in his haste to get away. Hearing voices, I looked around blankly, not recognizing Sharon or Jared. What had I been thinking of? It was something important. No, it was someone important. Something had happened to someone important, but I couldn't figure it out. Grandpa? Grandma? No, it wasn't them. I heard my name being called in the distance, an urgent call demanding my attention, but for some reason, I couldn't find my way to answer the call. It was hidden somewhere. The call kept coming, but I still couldn't find it. Finally the call ceased and I could go back to my problem. Who was it that was in trouble? Something wasn't right. What was it that was not right? I'll ask Brian. He'll know what the problem is. He always knows. He can help me. With that comforting thought in my mind, I drifted off to sleep. ----------------------- Authors Note: I realize that Chapter 8 and 9 have been different, and that some of you may not like the track the story has taken. All I can say is that I hope you will bear with me as I relate this painful period in Brian's and Pete's lives. As in everyone's lives, lessons must be learned, and sometimes the lessons are painful. On a positive note, I do not foresee and end to this story at this time, which may be a relief to some of you. Thank you for your support and encouragement. Dewey ----------------------- Constructive criticism and comments gladly accepted. Please e-mail me at dewey2k@yahoo.com. Flames will be deleted. ----------------------- I'd like to invite you to join a list that will notify you of new chapters being released for "Pete". 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