Date: Mon, 6 Aug 2012 22:26:44 -0700 From: B.E. Kelley Subject: The Foundling Chapter 6 This story is a work of FICTION. The events described are my own invention. Any similarities to actual events or persons are strictly coincidental. The author retains the copyright, and any other rights, to this original story. You may not publish it or any part of it without my explicit authorization. This story contains depictions of consensual sexual acts between teenage males. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you find this type of material offensive or if you are under the legal age to read said material; please proceed no further. Comments are always welcome at: hailcaesar2011@hotmail.com The Foundling Chapter 6: School Daze Monday morning, and my first day at John Adams High School, came quickly. I woke up and felt the empty space that was normally occupied by Jamie; I heard the shower running and assumed he must be washing up. While waiting for my turn in the shower, I stretched and flexed my fingers to keep them from getting stiff. I finally got used to my cast and could dress myself, but if I let my fingers stiffen up, I'd need Jamie to help me with the buttons. The water stopped running and a moment later, Jamie emerged from the bathroom with a towel around his waist, his blond hair plastered to his forehead. "Good morning Benji," said Jamie, the eternal morning person. I grunted in response but he just giggled. Jamie's biological parents must have been real free spirits, that boy has no sense of modesty whatsoever, he took his towel off and used it to dry his hair, making no attempt to hide his limp little noodle. I smiled, shook my head and then went to take my own shower. I took off my pj bottoms and t-shirt, wiggled out of my undies and climbed into the shower, letting the hot water ease the tension out of my shoulders. When I returned to the bedroom, with my own towel around my waist, Jamie was gone, already headed for breakfast. As much as I enjoyed Jamie's help and his flirtatious little peeks at my dick, it was nice to be able to dress myself. Unsure of what to wear, I dressed by rote, putting on my school uniform, tie and all. Tying my necktie was a little tough, with the cast, but I got it after a few tries. I checked myself out in the mirror; there were a few wrinkles and rough spots, caused by my difficulties with the cast, but over all my appearance was as meticulous as usual. Satisfied, I walked down to breakfast. "What are you wearing?" Dylan giggled. "A shirt and tie," I replied, looking down at myself to see what was wrong with what I had on, "Are you guys going to get dressed for school after breakfast?" Dylan and Jamie both started laughing. I didn't see what was so funny, they were both dressed casually, I figured they'd change before we left. "You don't wear ties to public school, preppy," Dylan chuckled. "Oh, duh, I should have known that," I scolded myself, "Uh, what should I wear then?" "Have you ever been to a public school?" asked Dylan. "Well, no, but I've seen them on TV," I explained, eliciting another round of laughs from Dylan and Jamie. I started to get annoyed, it wasn't my fault I didn't know what to wear and it hurt my feelings that the boys, especially Jamie, were laughing at me. "I don't see what's so funny," I grumped. "Don't worry about it, I'll help you pick something out after breakfast," Dylan giggled. That made me feel a little better so I sat down and had a bowl of cereal with the guys. Nancy came into the kitchen with her cup of coffee, she looked cold and I figured she'd been outside, seeing George off to work. "What's this?" Nancy chuckled at my outfit. "Don't ask, I'll take care of it before we leave for school," said Dylan, giving his mom a wink. After breakfast, Dylan followed me back up to my room. He handed me a few things and I had to hand it to him, he had decent taste. I was still waiting for my own clothes to be shipped up from my home in New York and my old school in Connecticut, but with some loaners from Dylan, I had a decent wardrobe. I put on a pair of jeans, the white undershirt and blue button-down I was already wearing, my brown Doc Martens and a burgundy v-neck cashmere sweater. I also had my heavy black toggle coat for the cold weather. "Well, what do you think?" I asked, once I was dressed. "Still on the preppy side but better, much better," Dylan smiled, "I think you'll survive your first day." "Oh that's reassuring," I replied, rolling my eyes. "Come on preppy, it's time to go," Dylan laughed, while putting his arm around my shoulder. Dylan has been a lot friendlier since our talk, the night I learned of my father's murder. He's pretty smart for, as Jamie teases, a dumb jock, and I enjoy his company. He's also very pretty; he has that All-American, boy next door, look about him and I'm sure all the girls must swoon when he walks by. I followed my handsome new friend down to the foyer; we put on our coats and joined Jamie and Nancy in the car. We dropped Jamie off first, the junior high was on the way, and when we got to the high school, Nancy parked the car and we walked into the building. Dylan headed off to class, while Nancy and I went to the office to enroll me and get my class schedule. I sat quietly, while Nancy filled out all the paperwork and arranged to transfer my records from Choate. When she'd signed everything that needed signing, she prepared to leave and I started to get nervous. "Benji, are you alright?" asked Nancy, I was looking a little flush. "Yeah, I'm ok, just some butterflies in my stomach." "That's natural, but I'm sure everything will be ok," said Nancy. "Yeah, don't worry, I'll be fine," I said, more confidently then I felt. "Look, everyone knows about your situation, if you have any trouble, come to the office and have them call me, ok?" Nancy whispered, for my benefit. "Ok." Nancy gave me a quick hug, making sure that there weren't any students present, so as not to embarrass me, than she was gone. I waited a few more minutes and then the principal called me into his office. "Good morning Benji, my name is Mr. Collins, and I like to meet with all new students when they join us for their first day," he smiled. "Yes sir," I replied, a standard answer to any statement by an administrator back at Choate. Mr. Collins seemed like an ok guy, he wasn't quite the hardass my old headmaster was. We talked about my grades, my likes and dislikes and he helped me plan my schedule for the year. "Alright then, we'll put you on the honors track for English and history, algebra I, German I, lunch, then art appreciation and sports PE," said Mr. Collins, listing my classes in no certain order. "Sports PE sir?" I asked. "You said you were a runner and a swimmer, correct?" "Yes sir," I replied. "Sports PE is the last gym class of the day, our athlete's use that as a means of getting in extra practice time, your coach will also be your PE teacher so, for example, rather than an hour in the pool you'll get two," he explained. "Oh, that makes sense," I agreed, "but uh, what about my arm?" "You obviously won't be able to do much until your cast comes off but I'm sure Coach Spencer will find something for you to do," said Mr. Collins. After that, Mr. Collins had a student, who worked in the office during her free period; take me to my first class. My first class turned out to be English, I tried to slip in as quietly as possible but the teacher insisted on having me stand in front of everyone and introduce myself. It was embarrassing; I avoided making eye contact with anyone and sat down as quickly as I could. My day moved smoothly after that, the school was easy to navigate and the only problem I had was the stares from the other students. I don't know if it was because I was the new kid or because most of the student's parents now, technically, worked for me. Everywhere I went, conversations grew quiet as people seemed to stop everything to watch. And what is the deal with girls? Why do they giggle and whisper to each other when they think a boy is cute? Several of them did that, and I'm not just being vain, they blushed and everything. By the time lunch rolled around, I was not only hungry but ready for a break. I found my way to the cafeteria and got into the lunch line. I was hungry and very disappointed when I collected my tray. "Excuse me Ma'am," I said to the lunch lady, "but is there anything else?" I didn't even know what the slop on my tray was, some kind of spaghetti? Maybe some stew with noodles? Whatever it was, it looked disgusting. "Look kid, if you don't like it, don't eat it," said the lunch lady. "Yeah dickhead, you're holding up the line," said a voice in the back. "Right, I'm sorry," I apologized, then took the apple and milk, and dumped the rest of my tray into the garbage. Dylan didn't have the same lunch period as me, and I hadn't made any friends yet, so I began the dreaded search for a place to sit among the hierarchy of the lunchroom. Eventually I took a table in the corner and sat by myself. I'd only finished half my apple, and a few sips of milk, when the kid who had called me a dickhead came over with a couple of his goons. "Hey, what's your problem?" he asked. "Excuse me?" I asked. "You got a problem with the food?" he asked. "I'm sorry it just didn't look good to me." "You think you're better than us or something, too good to eat what everyone else eats?" he said. I recognized this boy, his name was Richard something, he'd been in my math class and he gave the teacher a hard time. He was taller and way heavier than me, but probably my age. He had shaggy blond hair and a pig nose. "I don't think I'm better than anyone and frankly I don't see what business it is of yours anyway," I stated, curtly. "Oh get a load of how pretty he talks," said Richard, earning himself a chuckle from Beavis and Butthead. I rolled my eyes then got up and started walking toward the exit. "Hey, I wasn't done yet your highness," said Richard, as he caught up and got in my way. "Well, I was, would you step aside please?" "Look, my parents don't work for your company, I'm not going to kiss your ass like all of these other shitheads," said Richard. "Great, thanks for the tip," I stated, then pushed past him, still heading for the exit. "Hey, your highness," he called again. This time I ignored him and kept walking, but he didn't like that. I felt his meaty hand come down on my shoulder and spin me around, I was about to tell him to back off and that's when his fist connected with my eye, knocking me on my butt. "Next time wait until I'm done," Richard laughed his stupid laugh. I didn't get a chance to say anything; I was trying to hard not to cry. That punch hurt and the last thing I wanted was to give this bastard the satisfaction of seeing me cry. A small crowd had gathered around us but before anything else happened, a teacher approached us. "Alright, what's going on here?" he asked, breaking into the circle of kids. "I don't know coach, looks like Ritchie Rich fell," said Richard, giving me a wicked grin. The man looked down at me and I instantly recognized him, I just didn't know from where. "Dockins, head to the principal's office," said the teacher. "Why, I didn't do anything?" he exclaimed. "Yeah, and I was born yesterday," the teacher scoffed, "Principal's office, now." Richard Dockins headed in the direction of the office and the crowd broke up, while the teacher helped me to my feet. "Alright son?" asked the teacher, taking my chin in his hand and tilting my head so he could get a good look at my eye injury in the light. "I'm alright sir," I replied, meekly. "Ok, come with me," he ordered. I followed him out of the cafeteria, down a long corridor, into the gym, into the locker room and finally into the coaches office. He sat me in a chair, then pulled an icepack from a mini-fridge and handed it to me. "Put that on your eye, should keep it from swelling up but it's probably going to be a little black." "Thank you sir," I replied. "Looks like you're having a rough first day, Benji," he said. "Well, I wasn't until lunch," I explained. "Yeah, that Dockins kid is a real trouble maker," he stated, "You probably don't know me but my name's Tom Spencer I..." "You knew my dad, I recognize you now, from the funeral," I interrupted. "Right, I wasn't sure you'd remember," said Mr. Spencer. "I remember, what you said was very nice," I answered. "Well, in addition to that, it looks like I'm going to be your swimming coach." "Oh, ok, cool," I replied, lamely, I didn't know what to say. "So what do you swim, what's your race, your stroke," asked Coach Spencer. "Well actually sir, I'm a diver," I explained. "Oh perfect, we need some more divers, are you any good?" "I'm ok," I replied. Truth be told, I'm an excellent diver, I'm just modest around strangers, my friends to really, no one likes a braggart. "Well, when your cast comes off, we'll have you show us your stuff, we'll fix what needs fixing and see what you can teach our guys," said Coach Spencer. "That's cool, but what will I do until then sir, for gym class?" "You can be my stat keeper, recording the other boy's times," he explained. I was about to say that would be fine, when there was a knock on the door and the most beautiful boy I'd ever seen walked in. "Hey dad," he smiled. "Hi Avery, come on in," said Coach Spencer, "You know Benji?" "We had some classes together this morning, but we haven't met yet, hi," said Avery extending his hand. "H-hi," I stumbled my greeting and shook his hand. Avery Spencer was beautiful. His short hair was golden blond, his eyes were a vivid green, his face had a light dusting of freckles, he had a friendly, welcoming smile and a developing body that looked lean and toned. "You forgot this," said Avery, handing me my backpack, I'd left it on the cafeteria floor. "Oh thanks, I did forget it," I blushed. "Benji is a diver, he's going to be on our team," said Coach Spencer. "Oh cool, I hope you're better than our divers, they suck," said Avery. "Come on Avery, they're trying," said Coach Spencer. "No they're not dad, they're all lazy, if they tried they'd get better," said Avery. "You'll have to excuse my son, Benji; he's a bit of a perfectionist," Coach Spencer laughed, "Just wish the same rules applied to keeping his bedroom clean." Avery blushed but shot me a wink out of the corner of his eye. "So what's your next class?" asked Avery. "History, Mr. Beaks." "Cool, you're in my class, you wanna head over?" asked Avery. "Sure." "Alright boys, I'll see you at practice," said Coach Spencer. I gave the coach his icepack back then followed Avery to class. He seemed really nice, personable and charming, he was a lot like Jamie, I felt at ease with him. "So what did you do to get on Dockins shit list?" asked Avery. "Oh, I told him I didn't like the cafeteria food," I explained. "Geez, who does?" Avery laughed. "I guess he does, he took it pretty personal," I replied. Avery laughed again, a sweet melodic laugh that was music to my ears. "He's an asshole, don't let him bother you, no one really likes him," Avery explained. "What about the two goons he had with him?" I asked. "Marc and Jason?" said Avery, "They aren't so bad on their own, I think they just hang out with Dockins so he'll leave them alone." "Well, I'll stay out of his way." "That's probably a good idea," said Avery, "Why were you eating alone anyway?" "I don't know anyone, I don't have any friends," I blushed. "You can eat with me and my friends tomorrow, if you want," Avery offered. "Sure that would be great," I smiled. "Cool," Avery smiled back, "now let me see your eye." I tilted my head so that the light was on my face and let Avery have a look. "It's not so bad, just a little black; it'll clear up in a day or so." "Yeah, that's what your dad said," I stated. "Well, this is our class, the seat next to me is empty, you can sit there if you want," said Avery. I took Avery up on his offer and tried hard to pay attention to our history teacher, but it was difficult not to steal looks at Avery. He was beautiful and nice and I really wanted to be his friend. I realized that I was probably staring too much and forced myself to stop; I didn't want him to think I was a weirdo. After history I had art, Avery wasn't in that class but he was a swimmer and he was changing into his Speedo, when I walked into the locker room for PE. I was right about his body; it was as beautiful as his face. He was lean and toned, with the slightest ripples of a six pack showing on his abdomen. He had long muscular legs and big feet that made him a natural swimmer. I didn't get a good look at his dick but his butt looked perfect in the tightness of his Speedo. "Hi," said Avery, snapping me out of my trance. "Oh, hey," I replied. "My dad said you were going to be the time keeper until your arm heals, he wanted me to tell you to go over to his office and he'll give you the binder," said Avery. I collected the binder and a stopwatch from the coach then sat by the pool and took notes. I had to really concentrate; my eyes kept searching for Avery in his Speedo. Since I was injured, I didn't have to stay for the full practice, once the bell rang signaling the end of the period, Coach Spencer told me I was free to go home. That worked out well, I wasn't prepared to stay for the whole practice, I hadn't told Nancy about it and I knew she would be waiting for me in the parking lot. Sure enough, when I walked outside, she was sitting in the loading zone with Jamie. Dylan had hockey practice and was getting a ride home later, with a friend and his parents. "What happened to your eye?" asked Jamie, immediately noticing the slight blackening around my eye. "It's nothing, I tripped," I replied. I didn't want to explain the situation to Nancy; I didn't want her to have to intervene in a school yard squabble on my first day. When we got home, Nancy sent Jamie off to do his homework but pulled me aside. "Look, I just tripped, it was nothing," I started. "What, no, I have something to tell you," said Nancy. "Oh, sorry, what's up?" I asked. "Sheriff Hayes called before I left to pick you boys up," said Nancy, "Joe Harper pled guilty at his arraignment today, just like the Sheriff expected." "Oh, wow that's great," I exclaimed, that really was good news. "Judge Donovan set the sentencing for two weeks from today," said Nancy, "I know you wanted to be present so you could speak, I talked it over with the Sheriff and he said he'd make arrangements with the DA." "Great, thank you Nancy, thank you so much," I replied. "Of course, I know that means a lot to you, do you feel ok?" asked Nancy. "Yeah, I really do, I'm glad that scumbag is going to get what he deserves." Nancy gave me a quick hug then sent me upstairs to do my homework. I'd pretty much forgotten about my day, the news about Harper totally blocked my run in with Dockins from my mind. I was actually smiling when I walked into the room and found Jamie. He was lying on his bed with his pants and undies around his knees; furiously beating his dick like it owed him money. "Shut the door," said Jamie. "Right, sorry," I blushed, and turned to leave. "No, I mean come in and shut the door," Jamie giggled. "Right, sorry," I continued to blush, "I'm uh, just gonna start my homework." I walked over to what was now my desk and sat down, I pulled a few books out but I couldn't concentrate with the little squeaks Jamie was emitting. I turned around and started watching him, his fist was moving so fast it was almost a blur. He was almost totally hairless, and his body was soft and lean, his skin was a creamy white. "You just gonna sit there or are you going to join me?" he said. "Uh, uh," I stuttered. "Just pull your pants down and whack it, I can see you've got a boner," Jamie giggled. I blushed but then thought what the hell? I opened my pants, tucked the waistband of my briefs under my dick and started to stroke myself. I watched Jamie, Jamie watched me and I came right after he did. Once again, he cleaned himself off with a sock, then threw one at me. I cleaned myself, and then tossed the sock into the dirty clothes hamper with his. "Ok, I gotta ask, what's with the socks?" "Simple, they clean you off and mom isn't going to notice they've got spunk on them, when she throws that stuff in the washer," said Jamie, "I don't think she'd like that." Jamie laughed his musical sounding laugh and I found myself laughing with him. He pulled his pants up and just as casually as he'd asked me to jerk off with him, he asked me to help him with his homework. He had some questions about the American Revolution and while we'd been getting to know each other, I'd mentioned my interest in history. I helped Jamie and then finished my own homework, we wrapped up just in time for dinner. At dinner, George and Nancy asked about my day and I gave them the same lame story about tripping, to explain my eye. They seemed to buy that explanation and moved on to other topics but Dylan kept eyeing me curiously. I didn't find out what he was so interested in until later, when he asked me to come down to the basement and spot for him while he lifted weights. "I don't see what I can do," I was saying, as we walked down the basement stairs. Dylan never answered, he grabbed me in some kind of wrestling hold and pinned me on my back. "Dylan, what the hell?" I exclaimed. "Who hit you?" Dylan demanded. "What are you talking about, I told you I tripped," I replied. "Yeah, mom and dad might believe that bullshit but I know better, now tell me who hit you so I can go kick their ass," said Dylan. "You don't have to do that," I replied. "No one hits my little brother," said Dylan. That's the first time anyone ever called me that and I got a little choked up. In a few short days, Dylan had gone from being something of a bully himself, to being my protector. "Dylan, I really appreciate that but I can take care of it myself." "Can you?" he asked, "I'm betting you never got pushed around at any of those fancy schools you went to." "Well, no..." "And I know you've never had any brothers or cousins to roughhouse with, right?" said Dylan. "Well, yeah, you're right..." "So do you even know what to do in a fight?" he asked. I had to think about that for a minute but the answer was clear, I really didn't. "No, I guess I don't" I stated, sheepishly. "Well if you won't tell me who hit you and let me kick their ass, will you at least let me teach you a few things?" he asked. "That depends, are you going to get off of me?" I asked. "Right, sorry," said Dylan, it was his turn to blush, "I just got a little carried away." Dylan helped me to my feet, than led me over to a large closet in the basement rec. room. He opened the door and pulled out a full size punching bag on a plastic base. "Jesus, you're a boxer to, is there any sport you don't play?" I exclaimed. "I don't box," said Dylan, "but you know, hockey, you need to know how to throw a good punch." "Oh, of course," I laughed as though knowing how to fight was a natural part of ice hockey. "Alright," said Dylan, "Take a swing." "What about my arm?" I asked. "Well use your right, not your left, obviously," said Dylan, with a roll of his eyes. "Right, sorry, that was a dumb question." I took a swing as instructed and I have to say it was a rather pathetic effort. "No, no, no, that's all wrong," said Dylan, "You're in good shape, you've got good muscle tone, you should be able to throw a decent punch, you're just doing it wrong, try it like this." Dylan drew his fist back, than brought it forward with a snap, as he made contact with the bag. The bag absorbed most of the impact but it still teetered on its base. I stepped forward, copied his stance and was rewarded with a solid punch into what would have been the bag's stomach, if it were a person. "Not bad, try it again," said Dylan. I struck again, harder this time, causing the bag to swing back and forth. "That's it, again, keep going," said Dylan. I kept punching the bag, I started thinking of Dockins, what an asshole, then my thoughts turned to Joe Harper, algebra, my old cross country coach. Everything that had been a source of anger, in the last few months, came bubbling to the surface and when I got tired of punching the bag, I tackled it to the ground, straddled over it and wailed on it with my fist, a stream of swear words flying in my wake. "Easy, easy," said Dylan, wrapping his arms around me and pinning them to my side, "Damn, calm down killer." "Sorry," I panted, "I'm ok now." "Are you sure, you were like, possessed," said Dylan. "Yeah, I'm good now, just blowing off some steam." "Alright, well, what do you think about coming down here and working out with me a couple times a week?" asked Dylan. "Sounds like a good idea, on one condition," I stated. "What condition?" "You go running with me before school a couple times a week," I stated. "Ok, cool, as soon as the snow melts..." "No, that won't be for months now, we go, snow or not," I explained. "You go running in the snow?" Dylan asked. "Sure, I'm not some kind of pussy you know?" I smiled. "Ok tough guy, you're on." After that, I went back to my room and changed into my pajamas. It had been a long day, parts good, parts bad and now it was over. You might think that I was dreading the next day in school but I really wasn't nervous, at least not about Richard Dockins. I thought about Avery Spencer and felt a warm fluttering in my stomach. I crawled into bed with Jamie and fell asleep as soon as my head hit the pillow. I dreamt that night but the beautiful new friend I made dominated my thoughts, not the dark New Hampshire woods.