Date: Thu, 02 Dec 2021 13:35:52 +0000 From: Wes Leigh Subject: Misunderstood, Chapter 11 (Gay Adult/Youth) MISUNDERSTOOD By Wes Leigh This is a work of fiction intended solely for the entertainment of my readers; any resemblance to any real people or places is purely coincidental. This story is the property of the author and is protected by copyright laws. The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. If you enjoy this story, please support the Nifty archives today with a thoughtful donation by visiting https://donate.nifty.org/. Chapter Eleven "Daddy." "Andrew? Why are you calling?" "Daddy, I wanna come home." "Son, you know better than that. You need to stay there until you're completely better. I'm sure you are feeling a bit homesick--" "That ain't why I wanna leave, Daddy. They beat me yesterday. With a strap. My back's all torn up from it, Daddy." Alan paused, trying to decide the best way to respond. "Andrew, listen to me. We want you to come home, but we also want you to get well. You need to cooperate with the Monsignor and his staff." Andrew began sobbing. "Did you hear what I said? They whipped me!" "I heard, Son. Monsignor Albez told me it was necessary because you aren't progressing with the treatment. You can't get well if you don't work with them, Son." "I do everything they ask me to do, Daddy. It's never good enough." "Then we need to give it more time." Andrew dropped the phone on the desk and turned, walking away with his head bowed down, sobbing. Father Timothy picked up the phone and spoke briefly before ending the call. Then he turned to Andrew. "No more calls, Applicant," he called out as Andrew walked away. James followed Andrew out of the room. "Let's put more salve on your back." Andrew nodded, continuing to cry softly. There was no need to tell James how the call had gone. Obviously, Andrew would get no help from home. *** After applying more salve to Andrew's welts, James took the miserable youth to the Retreat gardens where they harvested green beans and cucumbers for the evening meal. "I'm so sorry, Andrew. I wish I could help somehow." Andrew shrugged. "Nothin' you can do really. We're all prisoners here." James pulled Andrew around to face him. Andrew refused to look up, so James placed his fingers underneath Andrew's chin and gently tilted the boy's head. "Listen to me for just a minute, Andrew, please." Andrew blinked and tears began to fall. "Oh, Andrew. It's not that bad." Andrew sobbed as he stared at James. "Are you serious? Not that bad!? They fuckin' beat me." James dropped his head, ashamed. "I'm sorry, Andrew. I really am." "Then tell me what I'm supposed to do, James. How do I stop getting' boners when they show me pictures of naked dudes? How? `Cause if I don't stop, they're gonna keep whippin' on me! And I don't know how much more I can take!" James knew Andrew was right. They were prisoners, locked inside a walled facility, denied communication with the outside world, prevented from leaving without prior authorization. The only difference between the Retreat and a jail was that the inmates weren't lashed with a leather strap for behavior beyond their control. But there was one thing James could do. As a Penitent, he had certain privileges that went along with his trusted position. He didn't know if Andrew would want to try it, but it was a desperate situation, so an extreme solution was the only option. "What if I told you there was a way you could escape?" Andrew turned to look at James. "Escape? How?" "There is a way to get out without anyone seeing, but you'd have to find your own way once you're outside. That will be the hard part, but you could go wherever you wanted. You could find your way home." Andrew didn't hesitate. "What do I have to do?" They had reached the far end of the garden. The back wall was just ahead. James said, "Do you remember the locked gate at the back of the property?" Andrew nodded. James looked around quickly. Seeing no one else around, he said, "9644. Can you remember that?" "9644?" "That's right. 9644." James turned Andrew to face the back of the garden and gave him a gentle nudge. Andrew looked over his shoulder, puzzled but holding onto hope that he understood what James was telling him. James nodded and inclined his head toward the back gate, urging Andrew on. Andrew whispered, "Thank you," then walked quickly to the back gate. There was a keypad on the wall next to the gate. Andrew punched in 9-6-4-4 and heard a soft click. He grabbed the handle and tugged. The gate swung open. Turning around, he saw James carrying the basket of beans and cucumbers back to the kitchens. He hoped James wouldn't get in too much trouble. He walked through the gate and latched it behind him. *** The pants fit fine, but the shirt was too big. Andrew had found them hanging out to dry on a clothesline. He felt bad about stealing them, but he had to have something to wear instead of the stupid robe. He wished he had shoes, but the sandals would have to do. He walked for hours down a country road. Whenever he heard a car coming, he hurried off the road and into the trees, hiding until it was safe to continue. Eventually, he started seeing houses and stores. A town must be coming up. Just ahead, he saw an enormous gas station with big trucks parked all over the place. He cautiously approached one of the drivers who was filling his tanks. The man glanced over and saw Andrew. He frowned a little at the clothes that obviously didn't fit and the sandals the boy wore. Shaking his head, he ignored the boy. He didn't need trouble with some runaway. Andrew waited until the man finished and walked inside a nearby building. Andrew didn't see anyone else around, so he climbed up onto the running board of the big rig and tugged open the door. Sliding inside the cab, he closed the door and looked around. There was a sleeping compartment behind the seats. He slipped inside and looked for a good place to hide. Grabbing a blanket, he sat behind the driver's seat and draped a blanket over his head and body, huddling as small and quiet as he could. A minute later, the truck rocked slightly as the door opened. He heard someone getting in and the door slamming shut. A man's voice hummed softly. The truck vibrated as it started up. There were strange squealing noises and jerking movements as the truck began moving. Andrew sighed. He'd done it. He'd gotten away. But where was he headed now? *** Andrew woke up, groggy, disoriented. Then he remembered where he was. In a truck, stowed away in the sleeper compartment. The truck was no longer moving. The blanket over his head was stifling. He tugged it off slowly and looked around. It was dark inside the truck. And silent. He pushed the blanket off and got up on his knees. Peeking into the front of the truck, he saw no one. Maybe he could sneak out? He slipped between the seats just as the driver's door opened and the overhead lights came on. The trucker saw Andrew and they both froze. The trucker took a deep breath and blew it out, exasperated. "Second one this month. Why the hell is this happening to me?" He looked at Andrew and asked, "Where the hell do you get off thinkin' you can climb inside a man's rig and steal a fuckin' ride?" Andrew was too scared to speak. The man climbed up into the truck and demanded, "Answer me, kid!" Andrew began shaking. "I'm ... I'm sorry ..." Then he started sobbing, tears pouring from his eyes. The man rolled his eyes. "Fuck! Why me?" He reached over to grab Andrew by the shoulder and pull him out of the truck. Andrew flinched and twisted in agony. He gasped, "Please let go. It hurts!" The man stopped and said, "Hey, kid, I'm not tryin' to hurt ya'. Didn't pull your arm that hard." "It ain't that," Andrew sobbed. He pulled his shirt sleeve up, revealing the angry red welts across the back of his arm. "What the hell!?" the trucker exclaimed. "What happened to you, kid?" Andrew turned sideways and lifted his shirt, showing the crisscrossed stripes on his back from the lashing he'd endured. "They did it `cause I'm ..." He couldn't say it. The trucker pulled out his phone. "I'm callin' the cops. You can talk to them." Andrew grabbed his hands and pleaded, "Don't call. Please. I don't wanna get anyone in trouble." The trucker put the phone in its charging cradle and stared intently at Andrew. "I won't call. Not right now, anyway. But you gotta tell me who the fuck did this to you. If you don't, I call the cops. Understand?" Andrew nodded. "But it's gonna take a while to explain." "Then start with your name, kid." "Andrew. My name is Andrew." "Okay, Andrew. I'm Rob. Now get to explainin'." *** Rob bought Andrew some food. It was the best darned hamburger Andrew thought he'd ever tasted. The fries and Coke disappeared almost as fast. Then Rob told Andrew to climb back into the sleeper and get some rest. They were headed for Abilene and had to be there first thing in the morning. Rob was planning to drive most of the night and think about all the information Andrew had divulged. Fucking shit! How could anyone do something like that to a kid? Andrew slept soundly. Not even his cut up back bothered him. The motion of the truck lulled him into a deep sleep, and he didn't wake up when the truck stopped outside a warehouse in Abilene, Texas. Rob turned off the truck and crawled into the sleeper compartment. The boy was asleep, facing the back wall. Rob carefully reclined on the narrow bed next to Andrew. There was just enough room so that they weren't touching. He had a few hours before the warehouse opened, and he planned to catch a quick nap. Andrew woke up when he felt someone climbing into the bed next to him. He turned over and saw the trucker Rob. The guy had been awful nice, buying Andrew food and listening without saying a word while Andrew told him about all the crap that had been happening lately. He didn't even blink an eye when Andrew said he thought he might be gay, and that was why the priests were beating him, to try drive out the gay feelings or something like that. The guy just nodded his head and said he'd help somehow. Andrew felt bad about sneaking into the guy's truck, but he was sure glad he did. Rob seemed to understand how Andrew felt. Andrew watched Rob. He was breathing deep, probably asleep. He looked tired. Andrew wished there was something he could do to show how much he appreciated the food and the ride and Rob just listening to his story. But Andrew didn't have anything. No money. No way to pay Rob back. Rob sighed in his sleep and turned on his side, scooting a little closer to Andrew. Andrew giggled softly. They were almost touching. In bed! Andrew had never slept in bed with anyone except King. He'd never had boys come to his house for a sleepover. And now here he was, sleeping next to a grown man. Andrew glanced down. Rob had a big bulge in his jeans. It was sticking out just a little now. Andrew knew he probably shouldn't do it, but he reached down and gently rubbed the lump in Rob's jeans. It was firm, not soft and squishy, but not hard either. He massaged it more and felt it grow and get a little harder. He thought about Stephen and how his cock would get hard when Andrew rubbed his pants like this. Stephen had seemed to enjoy that a lot. Maybe Rob would like it too. Perhaps he could pay Rob back for being so nice to him. Andrew unsnapped Rob's jeans and slowly lowered the zipper. Rob wasn't wearing any underwear! There was lots of hair all over the place and a thick, warm tube of flesh. Andrew pushed the jeans down a little more until Rob's cock popped out. It was big. Thick and getting longer every second Andrew played with it. It looked like Stephen's, with no foreskin, but it was longer and thicker around. He stroked it, loving the way it throbbed in his hand. After a minute or so, it began to leak. He giggled and rubbed the slippery liquid all over the end. He knew that would feel good. Rob moaned in his sleep and his eyes fluttered. Andrew stopped and waited to see if Rob was going to wake up. When it appeared he was falling deeper asleep, Andrew scooted down and sniffed Rob's cock. It smelled kind of funny. Really strong. But the smell excited Andrew, although he didn't understand why. He sniffed again and stuck out his tongue to lick up the liquid seeping out of the end of Rob's cock. It was sticky but didn't taste bad. Just like Stephen's, Rob's precum had a mild taste. Andrew slid his mouth over the end of Rob's cock and began sucking gently. The fat cap was so large it made his jaw hurt. He ignored the ache. He wanted to do this. Wanted to pay Rob back for being so nice. He licked all over with his tongue, making it nice and slippery. Then he began bobbing up and down, using his lips to rub along the hard shaft and the soft, rubbery edges of the cap. Rob moaned and his legs stretched out. Bitter liquid filled Andrew's mouth. He swallowed as fast as he could, but some still leaked out of the corner of his mouth, sliding down onto his cheek. Rob grabbed Andrew's head and pushed him away, shouting, "What the fuck!?" Andrew looked up, alarmed. Rob looked furious. Andrew began to cry. Had he messed up again? *** Andrew sat in the passenger seat, staring straight ahead. Rob sat behind the wheel, rubbing his forehead and trying to figure out what to say. Finally, he turned and said, "You just can't be doin' shit like that, kid." Andrew nodded his head. "Okay." He sniffed hard and added, "I'm sorry. I just wanted to pay you back." Rob frowned. "Pay me back? What the hell are you talkin' about?" Andrew turned to look at Rob. "You gave me a ride and bought me food. I ain't got no money, so I thought I'd pay you by makin' you feel good." Rob snorted and shook his head. "I didn't ask you to do that, kid. I know some guys do that kinda shit, but I don't." Andrew dropped his eyes and sighed, "The priests were right about me. There's something really, really wrong with me." Rob turned forward and slapped the steering wheel hard, making Andrew jump. Andrew peeked up at Rob and saw the man clinching his teeth. Mumbling, Andrew said, "I sure am sorry, sir." Rob began to laugh softly, then turned to look at Andrew again. "Sir? Kid, I ain't a `sir'. I'm just a guy who drives a truck for a livin', and let me tell you somethin'. You're wrong. The priests were full of shit. I was told the same damned thing when I was growin' up by the preacher at my parent's church. Made me think I was some kind of screwed up freak. Well I ain't. And neither are you, kid." Andrew was so confused. What was Rob telling him? Rob swallowed hard and said, "When I was just a little older than you, I told our preacher I thought I was gay. He told me the same kind of shit those priests were tellin' you. I wasn't about to hear that, so I got mad and told the preacher that he was wrong. That I wasn't a sinner or a freak." He pounded the steering wheel softly as he spoke. "He kicked me out of the church, and then my family threw me out of the house. I had friends who took me in, helped me finish school. Got me my CDL. Now I'm gettin' by, and for some damned reason, I keep runnin' into kids like you who need my help." He turned to look at Andrew. "A month ago, a kid offered to give me his ass if I'd give him a ride. Almost got caught doin' it. Ain't happenin' again. I ain't goin' to prison over this shit. Soon as I get this load turned in, I'll drive you home to your family. That's the best I can do for you, kid." "Thank you," Andrew whispered. It would be so wonderful to go home. To hug his mom and eat her good food. To see King again and get sloppy kisses. And his dad ... Andrew turned and stared out the window. His dad wouldn't be happy. The last thing he'd said was Andrew had to be healed before he came home. What would his dad do? Would he let him stay there or would he send him back to the Retreat? Andrew turned to Rob and asked, "Couldn't I just stay with you? I'd help you out any way you want. I'll wash your truck. I'll learn to drive. I'll do anything." Rob laughed. "You gotta be shittin' me, kid. There ain't no way." "I just don't think I can go home yet," Andrew said, sighing. "Why the hell not?" Shrugging, Andrew said, "It won't do no good. My dad will just send me back for more healin'." The enormous door on the warehouse began cranking up. Workers came out and waved at the truck. Rob shook his head and said, "I don't have time for this shit. We'll talk more after I unload." He cranked up the truck and put it in gear. Pulling forward, he made a wide turn and backed up to the loading dock, then turned off the truck. "Stay here," he ordered Andrew. He opened his door and climbed out of the cab. Andrew watched the activity at the back of the truck in the side mirrors. Rob had been nice, but he was wrong about one thing. Andrew couldn't go home. No way. He wanted to see his mom and King, but he knew his dad wouldn't let him stay. He'd force him to go back to the Retreat, and Andrew sure as hell wasn't going to do that. He waited until he didn't hear any more banging noises coming from the back of the truck. The men weren't back there on the dock either. He opened the door and slid out of the cab, wincing when he landed hard on the pavement. He looked around and didn't see anyone near. He ran around the front of the truck and out to the street. He was a mile down the road when he heard the sound of a big truck changing gears on the street behind him. He pushed his way into some heavy bushes at the side of the road and waited for the truck to pass by, not realizing that he could easily be seen from high up in the cab of a big rig. The truck brakes squealed as it rolled to a stop next to him. The passenger door opened and Rob leaned out, shouting, "Get your ass in here, kid! Damn it! Why don't you do what you're told?" *** Andrew was trying his best not to cry. He wanted to stay with Rob, but the trucker wouldn't hear of it. They'd argued for an hour about it, and in the end, Rob finally had to admit Andrew was right. He couldn't go home. But Rob was equally adamant that Andrew couldn't stay in the truck. It was too damned risky. Instead, Rob drove Andrew to the nearest truck stop where he fed him another meal and gave him $20. "I wish I could do more for you, kid," Rob said, frowning. Andrew opened the door, turned to look at Rob, and said, "Thank you. For everything." He climbed out and swung the door closed. *** The money lasted three days. He bought the least expensive food he could find at the truck stop and drank water from the fountain next to the restrooms. The clerks gave him funny looks, so he spent his days at a nearby park, sleeping on a bench at night, wandering around during the day, trying to figure out what he should do next. He used the last of the money on a small bag of chips. Unfortunately, he didn't have enough to cover the tax, so the clerk said he couldn't have the chips. The guy was mean. He'd been harassing Andrew the day before, so Andrew knew he couldn't talk him into giving him the food. A tall man standing behind Andrew put a dollar bill on the counter and said, "Sell it to him." Andrew turned and stared. The guy was huge. Tall with big muscles. He looked older than Andrew's dad. He smiled down at Andrew, but it wasn't a friendly smile, so Andrew felt a bit nervous. The clerk took Andrew's last change and the man's dollar bill. He rang up the sale and slid over the chips and the change. The man picked up the chips and handed them to Andrew, then pocketed the change. He motioned with his head for Andrew to follow him. Andrew wasn't sure he should, but the guy had bought him chips. Maybe it would be okay. The man led Andrew out into the parking area behind the truck stop where several rigs were lined up side by side. Walking up to a black truck parked on the end, he opened the passenger door and nodded with his head. "Get in, boy." Andrew climbed inside. "All the way to the back," the man said, climbing up behind Andrew. Andrew slid around the seat and sat down on the bed in the sleeper compartment. The man moved in front of Andrew. He reached down and unbuckled his belt, working it open. He unfastened his pants, unzipped, and slid his pants and underwear down. His cock was sticking out, already hard. It was short, shorter than Andrew's, and not very thick either. Andrew couldn't help it. He giggled, looking from the man's tiny cock up to his huge, muscled chest. The man wasn't amused. "You know what to do," he said. Andrew nodded and fell to his knees in front of the man. *** The door on the truck opened and Andrew slid out, landing lightly on the ground. The truck cranked up and drove off. Andrew folded the money and stuffed it in his pocket. He could eat for a week, maybe more, now. *** The next trucker was young. Probably in his twenties. And he had a hole in the end of his cock. Not a regular hole like everyone else, but a hole cut right through the bottom of it, and there was a metal ring going through the hole and out the end where pee was supposed to come out. Andrew was shocked when he saw it, and he couldn't help but spend a long time just looking at and playing with the ring, until finally the trucker laughed and asked him if he was going to do more than play with it. Andrew looked up and smiled, then began sucking the guy. He spent a little time playing with the ring with his tongue, but most of the time, it was just like the other men. He stuck it into the back of his mouth and pushed until it went down into his throat. The trucker was amazed. The kid seemed to have no gag reflex at all, and he gave a great blowjob. The trucker liked it so much he asked Andrew to stay with him for a while. Andrew agreed, quickly. He was tired of sleeping on a park bench near the truck stop. The trucker took Andrew all over the state, bought him clothes that fit and shoes and socks. They were getting along great, and Andrew thought he'd finally found a man he could trust to take care of him. All Andrew had to do was make the guy happy, once in the morning and a few more times during the day, sometimes while they were driving down the highway. Everything was going great. Then one day, the trucker picked up a load bound for Atlanta. He told Andrew the ride was over. He couldn't risk transporting a minor across state lines. Andrew didn't understand, of course. He was getting to like this guy, and sucking him was kind of fun. He also appreciated everything the man had done for him, but the guy said the ride was over and he couldn't stay. He climbed out of the truck and sadly waved goodbye. The young trucker waved as he drove away. He almost stopped the truck and asked the kid to get back in. The boy was one hell of a good cocksucker, but there were more kids just like him in every city. He'd find another. Andrew watched the truck drive away. He pulled out the wallet the trucker had bought for him and checked inside. He had $120. He looked around and tried to decide where he should go now. Fort Worth was a big place, and he'd never been there before. *** As the sun began to set, Andrew wandered away from the truck stop into a run-down commercial district. He found a few young guys a little older than himself, just hanging out, laughing and talking. He watched them for a few minutes, trying to decide if he could trust them. They saw Andrew and gave him frowning glares, warning him to stay back without saying a word, so Andrew found a shadowy alcove in front of a closed business where he huddled down and watched. Cars drove slowly by, sometimes stopping near the young guys. One of them would walk up to a car, look inside, and talk to the driver for a minute. Sometimes, the boy would open the door and get in. After a few minutes, the boy would get out and the car would drive off. Andrew had a pretty good idea what he was seeing. The young guys were doing sex stuff with the men in the cars. For money. Andrew didn't need any money. Not yet. What he needed was a safe place to spend the night, so he stood up and started walking down the street. He began to shake a little as his nerves got the better of him. What was he going to do? Maybe he should look for a park. He'd never been bothered when he slept in the park. A car slowed down on the street next to him. The window lowered and a man looked out, eyeing Andrew. "How much?" the man asked with a leer. "Huh?" "I said how much? For the night?" Andrew shivered and turned away, ignoring the man and walking faster. "Hey!" the man shouted. "Where you goin'? I pay good. I got two hundred for you?" Andrew stopped and stared at the man. Two hundred dollars! That was way more than he had right now. It would last for weeks, maybe even a month. "What do I gotta do?" Andrew asked, curious. "Whatever I want," the man replied with a laugh. "For that much money, I own you for the entire night!" Andrew studied the man. He seemed nice enough, and his car was fairly new. Maybe it would be okay. He took a step toward the car. A hand grabbed Andrew's arm and pulled him back. A voice spoke in his ear, "Don't do it, little bro. This guy's bad news." Andrew turned and saw a young man standing behind him. He wore a hoody that shaded most of his face. Shining black eyes, slightly slanted, peered at him from beneath the hood, silently pleading with him. The young man shook his head slowly from side to side, then he pulled Andrew back behind him and faced the man in the car. "We ain't available, mister," he said. "There's guys back that way if you want some action." The man glared at the two of them, then raised his window and drove off. The young man turned to Andrew and said, "We got some dangerous dudes that come around every now and then, and that guy's one of them." Andrew swallowed nervously. "Okay. Ummm ... thanks." "No worries. You look new here. You got a safe place to stay?" Andrew shook his head. "No. That's what I was lookin' for when that guy stopped me." The youth pushed his hood back, revealing a beautiful Asian face, dark eyes, and full lips, yet he appeared as young as Andrew. He didn't act young, but seemed extremely self-assured and confident. "Come with me, little bro. I got a place nearby. If you want ..." Andrew stared at the youth and made his decision quickly. He didn't have much choice, really, but something told him he could trust the other boy. "Okay," he replied. "But I'm payin' my way." The youth laughed and replied, "You're alright, little bro. But tonight's on me. This way." They walked to an apartment a few blocks away. "I'm renting it," the boy explained as he unlocked the front door. "Sorta. I mean, I pay a guy to let me stay here, and he keeps his mouth shut." They walked in and the youth pointed. "Kitchen in there. I'm a decent cook. Bathroom in there. No bedroom. I sleep on the couch. Not sure where you're gonna sleep, but we'll figure something out." He pulled his hoodie off, tugging his shirt up enough to reveal pale white skin. He tossed the hoodie on the couch and turned to face Andrew. "They call me Wings," he said, pointing at a pin he wore on his shirt collar. It looked like eagle wings on each side of a shield. "These belonged to my dad. He was in the Air Force. Met my mom while he was stationed in Vietnam. Married her and they made me. Then he died and everyone forgot all about me and mom. Mom died two years ago, so I booked it. But one day, I'm gonna fly a fighter jet, just like my old man. That's why everyone calls me Wings." Andrew smiled tentatively. He wasn't sure what to say. "Ummm ... cool. My name's Andrew." Wings studied the kid carefully. Andrew was very young, probably 11 or 12, way too young to be out on the streets. But then, Wings knew what that was like. He'd been on the streets for four years, selling his ass to survive. He made good money, because he looked young for his age. He'd just turned 16, but most tricks thought he was 13. With his raven black hair, fair skin, and delicate Oriental features, he was in high demand. This Andrew guy looked even younger, and scared. Wings walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. "Got some pizza in here if you're hungry. And Mountain Dew to drink. You want anything?" "Ummm, that sounds good." Wings set the food on the counter and pulled two glasses out of a cabinet. As he poured their drinks, he said, "Little bro, there's one thing you oughta know about livin' on the streets. You shouldn't give out your real name like that. Wrong people get ahold of it and they can make trouble for you. Get you caught up quick. When someone asks, you give them your street name." "I ain't got a street name," Andrew said. Wings began chuckling. "How long you been on the streets." "Does sleeping in a park count?" Andrew asked. Wings leaned on the counter, laughing. "Fuck, little bro, you one funny guy! Shit!" Wings stopped laughing and stood up straight. He studied Andrew for a minute and said, "Blue. That's your street name. On account of your eyes. If anyone asks, you tell `em your name is Blue." "Blue?" The sound of his schoolmates chanting Drew-Drew-Eyes-So-Blue echoed in Andrew's memories. "I don't know, Wings. I ain't sure I like that." "Why not, little bro? It's perfect for you. It fits you. You're damned cute, and your eyes are the best part of you." Andrew smiled bashfully. Wings smiled back, flirting a little. Andrew picked up a cold slice of pizza and bit into it. Okay then. From now on, his name would be Blue. The end of MISUNDERSTOOD, Chapter Eleven