Disclaimer: This story contains sexual content of a homosexual nature between consenting teenagers. It is intended for mature audiences only. If you are under legal age, offended, or otherwise do not wish to view material of a frank and sexual nature do not read this story.

Author's Note: Thank you to all those who have written to me. I'm glad that you are enjoying this story as much as I am. Your constructive criticism is what I focus my progression on. Thank you again. This is a work of fiction.  Many characters were inspired by real people.  I would gladly appreciate any feedback.  This includes constructive criticisms.  Please send to ube_licker@hotmail.com

Copyright 2005 by ube_licker
All Rights Reserved.

Chapter 7

I wiped the table with a wet cloth. The wood shined momentarily before it dried. I then wiped my hands over my apron. I wore the white apron over a white tank top and an old pair of khakis. My bare arms and shoulders were visible. The air was very humid. I walked over to the back of the Dessert Bar to place the cloth in the sink. I washed my hands. Dried. Another order of crepes was ready. It had rocky-road ice cream in the middle with hot chocolate syrup that flooded around it. It lay perfectly on a porcelain plate. A single strawberry sat on top of it all, like a king on its mighty throne. I placed the plate on the palm of my hand in front of me. Walking with balance needed some attentive focus. I stepped closer to a table in the corner of the Dessert Bar.

"Enjoy," I said simply to the group of girls.

"No problem sexy."

She placed her hand on her lips and began to giggle. The others joined her. I smiled and gave them a wink before I went back to my chores. I could hear their whispering and laughter from where I was heading. The backroom of the little restaurant had small window. But from this window I could see the haze of the orange sky, lightly mixed with a tinge of violet. If I stood on the stool by the sink, I could also see the many palm trees that scattered along the sidewalk and across the sandy beach. Every time I finished my shift from work I would walk down the sidewalk towards the school. It always felt like I was in a never-ending summer vacation. The gentle wind carried by the waves of the ocean comforted my tired mind as I took my carefree stride towards my dorm from the Dessert Bar. The ring of the door chimes brought me back to reality. I took a look to see who was coming through the entrance.

"Ethan," Pierre called out.

I came out to greet him. He wasn't alone.

"Hey. Pierre, Snowy, how's everything going?"

I was surprised to see the Gold member with him. He always seemed to ignore Snowy.

"We just got back from Pierre's yacht."

Snowy looked cheerful. His pimply face was red with excitement.

"I keep telling you that it belongs to my parents' rental business," Pierre chuckled and lightly punched him in the arm.

Pierre would later tell me that he wanted to be a different person since Kyle's death. He was always trying to be something that he wasn't. He always cared about what others thought and how they would perceive him. The concern of self-conceptualization turned into a narcistic obsession. He was overwhelmed with guilt that derived from the death of his friend. It was the guilt that stemmed from taking life for granted. When he saw my friendship with Snowy, he realized that it didn't matter what others thought. What mattered most was something deep and simple and clean.

"Anyway Ethan, you really don't belong here. I mean, this is a very chic place but I rather see you on a glossy page of a magazine, wearing white underwear and looking oh so utterly seductive," Pierre purred while scratching his stomach.

Snowy and I laughed.

"Are you guys just going to stand here or are you going to order something?" I asked while I handed them each a menu.

They sat on stools by the bar. I went to do some other orders before I came back. The other waiters and waitresses bustled about. The sounds of conversations emanated from table to table. Pierre waved to show that he and Snowy had made their decisions.

"I'd like Today's Special sprinkled with nuts please," Pierre chimed.

Snowy chuckled.

"Can I have the tiramisu?"

I wrote it down on the notepad and I took their menus.

Before I left Pierre grabbed my arm and looked at me sharply, "Sources say that you are going to be chilling with Damien tonight."

I think the Gold members of the student council in Montega Academy made it their business to know what others were up to.

"Listen. I'm not one to pry. But we do have a bit of concern. You saw what happened to Max. He went from overt obsessive behavior to manic-depressive PMS bitch queen. I know you're not the type to drool over someone who believes that their some kind of Hindu sex god, but you're also too cute to see what everyone else can see."

He said all of this very quickly and casually. I rubbed the back of my neck.

"What can't I see Pierre?"

Snowy placed his hand on my shoulder.

"That Damien's a pig," he said as quietly as he could.

Pierre continued, "You're a real good guy, Ethan. But trust me when I say this. I've been where you are now."

Was he saying this because of George? Maybe he was still reeling from experience of being hurt by someone he truly cared about.

"He's good in bed. And that's all he can offer you."

Oh. Countless. That is the number of how many people Damien had slept with. I didn't even think that it would of included people and friends that I knew. Everyone. That was what Joe said.

"I'm going to get your orders now," I said quietly.

I forced a smile. My father once told me that selfish thoughts are what lead to most of the pain in the world. Getting upset over something like this was just... stupid? While I waited for the desserts to be made I thought of Sophie. She was so obsessed with my brother. She got angry and very upset when she found out that he was dating someone else. That he had loved, kissed and made love to someone else. Maybe she had finally turned her life around now. But I still didn't want to be anything like her. I gave the guys their desserts and greeted some more customers. When Pierre headed to the restroom, Snowy had approached me. I was wiping another table, watching the shiny surface disappear as it dried up.

"Pierre's a nice guy," he sighed, "but a part of me thinks he's just doing this out of pity."

I turned my head to look at him.

"He's trying, Snowy. It's hard for people to change their ways."

He nodded and played with the buttons of his expensive shirt.

"I do appreciate the sentiment but I can't help but over-analyze. You were the only guy at that school who was ever really sincere about being friends with me."

I smiled. During my retreat into the jungles of Oahu, Snowy had kept to himself at the institute. It was a time of mourning and great grief for all of the students and staff. It was the first time they had to deal with the issue of death in the school. Snowy had no one to share his feelings with. When I returned from the retreat he was already waiting by my dorm. He didn't talk much about Kyle and his death because he really didn't know anything about him. Though, their families had some sort of business agreement between them, they never really got to know each other. Snowy was one of the first students that Sophie had a private meeting with right after she came to the school. The social worker talked to Snowy about his feelings. His response was that he had no strong emotions about the death, but he did feel really bad. No one should feel like they have to kill themselves to solve a problem that they had.

"Don't worry. Sooner or later people will recognize that you're a really good person to be around."

He smiled.

"About Damien. I think there's something about him that you see that maybe others don't. I see the way he looks at you when we're walking down the halls."

I nodded. Snowy followed me as I went to clean another table.

"He wants to get to know me. That's all."

In my head I could feel Damien's touch. I could feel his large hands grabbing. Groping. I could feel his lips. I could feel the hardness of his groin through the thin fabric... I shook my head.

"You have beautiful eyes," Snowy whispered.

Where have I heard that before? My mother used to say that to me. She said that a person's eyes were the windows to their soul. But it wasn't my mother's voice that was creeping into the crevices of my brain.

I turned to Snowy, "So do you. Don't ever forget that."

When Pierre returned he and Snowy left to catch a movie with Eric and his Brown member friends who had just finished their dinner at Captain's European Crab-shack. While I was clearing their table I had found a very generous tip. My boss told me that ever since I started working here, I've been getting nothing but gold for tips. I laughed at her exaggerations. I made my rounds one last time before ending my shift. I placed my apron into a basket in the stockroom. Many tourists came to the Dessert Bar daily. They came from Japan, England, the Middle East, Turkey, Korea, Iraq, South Africa, Jamaica... even countries I've never heard of in my life. But they all came for different reasons. Honolulu was an international municipality opened up on a global market. The booming tourist industry of Hawaii provided the easy flow of income through places like Waikiki, a place catered to the needs of tourist residential living. These people were the wealthy middle class of civil society. If not for business, they came for leisure. If not young men and women, they were retired veterans of the baby-boomed workforce. They often dressed in their stereotypical Hawaiian shirts and wore straw hats as a trivial trademark. The seasonal tourists were easy to spot.

"I'm calling from work. I just finished. How's everything at the hotel?"

I heard Lee chew on his apple.

"Good. I've never seen so many numbers, but I can't really complain. How's the skateboard?"

I leaned over the counter.

"It's a lot faster getting to work and going back home. I didn't bring it today because I'm getting a ride but thanks Lee."

I heard him take another bite.

"Don't think anything of it. I just wanted to make sure you get more time on your studying. You're teachers were cool and seemed to take their job seriously. How's Sophie McKinnon by the way?"

Here we go. He always asked about her. I started to wonder if his curiosity came from his insecurities.

"Well I know that she's had private sessions with Snowy, Pierre, Damien, Bobby..."

Lee cleared his throat. I pressed my ear closer to the phone.

"Aren't those the people who are the most closest to you in the school? God, she's still trying to get to you, to us, to me. She's using the death of some innocent kid to creep her way back into our lives."

Now I was wondering if Lee was being paranoid. Or if there was some piece of truth in what he was saying. I tried to think about what our parents would say.

"It's been years Lee. Maybe she's changed. Maybe if we just give her a chance..."

"No Ettie. People like her don't change. She's sick. Why else would she be here, in this city, in your school? I'm sorry but we can't be just passive about this."

Just then, two bright lights high beamed through the windows of the Dessert Bar. Damien.

"Sorry Lee, but I think my ride is here. I'll call you tomorrow, alright?"

Lee paused for a second, probably lost in the burning furnace of his anger.

"Take care of yourself Ettie. Or I'll kick Damien's ass."

Damien was standing outside, leaning on his red car when I came outside to greet him. The sky was dimmed into a deep navy blue. The stars had only just begun to twinkle. He was wearing his football jacket. Hands in his pocket. His hair was gelled up. Whenever I was around Damien or any of his friends a part of me always felt underdressed. It really didn't matter to me. My father always told me that some people were born to have more than others. Accept it, because there would always be those who have even less than you. Damien watched me as I approached.

"How was work?" he asked.

He pulled out his key from his pocket and clicked on it to unlock the car.

"It was actually pretty good. I got to serve today instead of just cleaning the dishes. How about you?"

I buttoned up my old red shirt. I tried not to look at his face... or his broad shoulders.

"Kind of boring. After school, we had a student council meeting. That Montega kid is becoming a real piss off."

We both entered the car. The leather of the seat felt cool against my hot skin.

"Timmy?"

Damien fixed his rear-view mirror. I could see his soft brown eyes in the reflection.

"Yeah. He thinks that just because he shares the same last name as the school that he can just run us down with his really weird and stupid demands. He wanted to throw some kind of `cheer up' party because Kyle's death was putting everyone down. Unbelievable."

After searching for the seatbelt, I snapped it on. He looked at me with a smile of amusement.

"You don't trust me Ethan?"

I shook my head. My parents died in a car accident.

"It's better to be safe than sorry."

He started the car. The interior of the vehicle was shiny. Damien probably cleaned and waxed it before taking it out. Before I knew it, I felt his fingers caress the side of my face.

"You're so weird Mr. Jackman."

His warm hand slid down my neck. And he fixed my collar. I could smell his cologne from where I was sitting. It was light and cool.

"So where are we going?" I asked.

His driving was as smooth as his car.

"Somewhere special."

Damien's condo was a three-minute driving distance from the Dessert Bar. But it was ten minutes away from the school. The condo itself is situated on the sands of Waikiki beach. It was adjacent to a park that used to be an army fort and was five blocks away from the Royal Hawaiian shopping center, which had 150 shops and restaurants. The building was wide and reached the sparkling night sky. It gazed upon the ocean

"I like living here because it's close to everything."

I nodded. He stood close to me in the elevator.

"How long have you lived here?"

"I stayed at the school till about last year. It was getting boring and I wanted to know how it would feel like to live on my own. You know, without parents."

I leaned back.

"I wish I could still live with mine."

He looked at me for a second.

"I know. I read about you before you came to the school."

I was confused.

"It's my job to read up on new students, in case they need help getting accustomed to everything. So I guess I knew you before I met you."

His hand reached the back of his head. I thought about our first meeting. The elevator stopped.

I followed Damien into his room. His kitchen looked like a high-class bar and it was the first thing I saw when I entered the door. On the opposite end was the living room. It had a large flat screen TV that covered most of the wall. He had a black leather couch in front of it. At the back of the condo, there was an ocean view balcony.

"Wow."

He came from behind me and grabbed my hips.

"Do you like it? I still haven't shown you the bedroom."

I started to move away.

"Ok I know it was a bad joke," he turned me around to face him.

He still had his football jacket on. The jacket itself was like an extended part of him. He removed it and placed it on the couch.

"I cooked us some dinner. It's still warm."

I almost laughed.

"You cook?"

He walked across the room and into the kitchen. I followed him. He ran his hands through the tap water in the sink. He dried his hands with a small towel by the stove and turned to me, signaling me to do the same.

"Yeah but not often. I took lessons."

When I stepped into the kitchen, it was the first time I noticed a small table behind the counter in front of the hallway. There were two seats. Two sets of plates, forks, and glasses of water.

I glanced in his direction, "Fettuccine Alfredo?"

"It's easy to make," he chuckled.

He moved the chair for me to sit on. During dinner my thoughts turned to everything people told me about Damien. To Boo he was a hero. To Pierre he was a player. To Bobby he was joker. To Joe he was a prankster. To Snowy he was popular. To Lee he was the captain of the football team. To Max he was love. What was he to me?

"Do you like it?"

I rolled the pasta with my fork.

"It's good."

He licked his lips.

"What's wrong?"

I took a sip of water.

"Nothing's wrong..."

His hand reached under the table and onto my knee. He began to rub it.

"You're not really good at lying Ethan."

My blue eyes swayed into his direction.

"What do you want from me Damien? When we're alone you're always trying to kiss me or touch me, but when the others are around you pretend like I don't even exist."

He took his hand from my knee.

"I think the world of you."

She had lied. Or she didn't know exactly what happened when she told us our parents were dead. Our father had died instantly. He was driving that night and a drunk driver T-boned him on his side. The Toyota had smashed into our parents' car and crushed my father's bones. My mother was bleeding to death when we got to the hospital. Lee had thrown up on the way. I was desperate. She needed to live. We fought our way into the Emergency Room. She knew me more than anyone. She fought it. She was strong and brave and... she was loved. I watched her die.

"I'm not promising anything because I'm not like that. I like having fun. We're both young. You're brother told me that you were very special. And you are. But I don't want anything serious."

I was quiet for a while.

And then I asked, "Do you want to be just friends then?"

He smiled.

"Ok. Just finish up so we can watch a movie."

Eric had told me that some of the older students in the school lived outside of the dorm. It was considered `cool' because it showed independence. And independence was a rare commodity. After we ate dinner I offered to wash the dishes. He told me that I didn't have to.

"I don't mind. We can do them together."

We cleared the table. I soaped. He rinsed. The warm water ran through my fingers. I stood beside the tall and muscular captain of the football team. We both had important games during the following week. Boo, Gold member and director of the Athletics' council, was organizing a rally for our sports teams. Damien's best friend was also the captain of our basketball team. I was very impressed that someone as short and skinny as Boo would be so incredibly athletic. He was fast and was able to jump pretty high. Pierre told me that Boo was trained intensely under three forms of martial arts since he was little. When he came to the school, he impressed everyone and quickly became athlete of the year for every consecutive grade. The Vietnamese student was the only resident of Montega's that had family living nearby. His family owned several Asian restaurant chains in Honolulu's Chinatown. Boo was the personification of cute and always seem to have a smile on his face. I started to wonder if Damien had slept with him too.

"So what kind of movie do you want to watch? I have this special satellite deal where I can get movies that are still in theatres."

"I'm feeling for a scary movie."

Damien reached for the remote in his kitchen. When I sat on the couch I started to smell his body on the couch. Underneath his cologne, he smelled good. And I could smell it all over the couch. It finally dawned on me that Damien had fallen asleep watching television several times. When he turned on the TV I was stricken by the color and size of the plasma flat screen. Damien sat on my right. The leather skin of the couch pulled tighter. He was shirtless. I tried not to pay attention.

"So what are we watching?"

He leaned back and stretched his arm till it reach behind my neck.

"This movie about a haunted house."

Though I was staring at the screen, my peripheral vision could see his skin. I could feel him beside me. The sounds of screaming victims and images of blood... and still I could hear him breathe, feel him move and smell his aftershave. He inched his way closer to me. The movie wasn't a typical haunted house story. It was about a photographer searching for her missing brother. The search leads her into an old manor that was used by a cult from a local university years ago. They sacrificed young children that they had lured. The frightening parts of the movie were the children and their soulless eyes.

I hadn't noticed that Damien had moved closer. Near the end of the movie, when all the drama had died down... he was looking at me. His soft brown eyes were on me. When I turned to face him, he was already leaning closer to me, muscles flexing. He grabbed me by the neck and placed his wet mouth on my lips. His hands reached for my thigh and my ribs. His tongue probed into my mouth. His fingers ran through my hair. My eyes were closed. Hands down. He pressed me down till my back lay on the couch. He licked my teeth, gums and tongue. His fingers ran down my neck. He reached under my shirt. Fingers scratched my back. His thumbs gripped my ribs. Damien was breathing hard. He pinched my left nipple while he continued to kiss me deeply. His hips gyrated over me. But then he lifted them. His other hand traveled down my stomach and navel, going underneath my pants and the band of my underwear. He got hold of my penis and pulled it. I grabbed his hand.

"I thought you said we could just be friends."

My face was flushed. I don't know why, but tears leaked at the side of my face.

"Ethan. I'm so sorry. It's just... I thought..."

"Can I go home now?"

He was angry when he looked at me. He sat up and turned off the television.

"What is this? You always let me kiss you and touch you. You were asking for this."

I backed away from him.

"Kissing is different from what you want to do."

He leaned closer again.

"You wanted this too. I see the way you look at me. It's the same way I look at you."

I shook my head.

"I like you Damien. But I don't want to be another trophy on your mantle."

He was coming closer again. I took his left hand and gently placed it on my cheek. I stared at him hard so that he could see that I was serious and that I was hurt by his actions.

"Can we start over?" I asked.

He stared at me for a while. Eventually he nodded. My father once gave me a lecture about sex. He told me that if I wanted premarital sex, he couldn't stop me. As an eleven-year-old, I had very little concern about sex and I was also feeling a little uncomfortable about the conversation. He told to think about it. If I wanted to have sex, I should at least know one thing, that the person truly loves me, because loveless sex could damage you, especially your heart.

I smiled, "What are your dreams?"

"What?"

He gave me a strange look, but still kept his hand by my cheek.

"Like, what do you want that money can't get you?"

He sighed, "I want my parents to be proud of me. I know it sounds cliché but nothing I did was ever good enough for them. I guess that's why I try so hard to be popular. It compensates."

I nodded, "How are your parents like?"

He gave me the strange look again, but he smiled this time.

"My mother is a socialite. Born upper class and never had to work a day in her life. My father is the son of the Chief Executive Officer of a multi-corporate company. He never wanted to follow in the footsteps of his father and older brother and was always looked down upon. Ironic, I know. But he was also able to start his own publishing company at a very young age. I guess he expected me to be just as ambitious as he was. But I just don't know what to do with the rest of my life."

I sat up so I was leaning at the back of the couch.

"Do you think your parents love you?"

"I guess in their own weird way they do. I'm just sick of being pressured. I don't know what they expect from me. But I do know that they love me."

I brushed my hair to the side.

"No one's ever asked or cared about these things before. How about you? What are your dreams?"

I played with his fingers by my cheek.

"I guess the dream that I have now is my brother's happiness. He always looked out for me. Lee gave up everything just so that I could be happy; his friends, his school and even his girlfriend. After my parents died, he was so guilty about taking advantage of them. In his head he thought that it was his fault for not being a better son. So he compensated by trying to be a better brother. I just want him to be happy now and to know that I can take care of myself."

He scratched his stomach.

"Is that why you got yourself a job?"

I nodded. He kissed me on the forehead.

"You really are something Ethan. I want to be honest with you. I want to be your friend but at the same time I want to be something more. I told you that I think the world of you. And if you want, maybe we can start..."

I bit my lower lip.

"You seem a bit confused. Like you don't know what you really want. Why don't we just wait a while and get to know each other more? You might find someone else who you can have feelings for... like maybe Max... or your best friend, Boo."

He rubbed his chest.

"Max was only a fling. And Boo's one of my closest friends. We did have sex once but only because I was really drunk that night. But I agree with you and I think we should try to get to know each other a little more."

I looked at his watch.

"It's getting late and I'm opening tomorrow."

Damien drove me back to school. He wasn't wearing his football jacket, just a plain nightshirt. I was surprised to learn that he had already spoken to the guards. Telling them that I wouldn't be back till later that evening. I looked back at downtown Honolulu. The city was still alive at this time at night. I could feel the nigh clubs roar and the casino laugh. It was as if the island had to lively identities: the calm, peaceful and sun-soaked day; and the dazzling and encapsulating night. Damien walked me to my dorm room.

I turned to face him, "Thanks for tonight. Dinner was nice. I still can't believe you cooked for me."

He held both of my hands.

"You were worth it. I should be thanking you. I really enjoyed my first date."

I paused.

"This was your first date too?"

"Yeah. I usually don't do the whole date thing. It's always straight to business."

I wondered if Damien truly meant it. There were so many people in the world who were faking it. Sophie McKinnon came to our ethic's class again today. She told us about identity and pressure. That people do certain things because they feel that they can't handle the reality of this world. But she also seemed to be searching something from us. Like there was something there that she wanted get from us. Maybe she wanted some meaning in her life. She once thought that her whole world revolved around my brother. Just like Timmy's agenda. I didn't tell anyone. But he approached me again yesterday. He wanted to know if I knew anything about the other Gold members. I told him that I was new like him and I only knew what everyone else knew. He, too, was fishing for something. Timmy was always around Celly. Damien's best friend was being conspicuous and Eric walked in on them talking in restroom on the second floor by the library. Eric told me that they heard them say something about Joe and Bobby. Whatever it was, they never said a word about it.

"So I'll see you whenever?" Damien pulled me back to the present.

"I have work tomorrow. I might hang out with Snowy. And on Sunday I have work again and homework to do. I'll see you in class."

I pulled away and turned to open my door.

"Yeah. I'll see you in class."

He walked away. Hands in his pocket. I closed the door behind me. My thoughts went back to Kyle Pennington. I wondered what kind of person he was. He had such a great impact on so many students. But everyone seemed to keep quiet about their relationship with him. Pierre was the one who found his body. But I wondered who was the last to see or talk to him while he was still alive.

When I walked into my bedroom, I heard Pierre in the shower.

"Is anyone there?" He called out.

I went close to the door.

"It's only me."

"Oh hey. I'll be out in a second."

I began to remove my clothing. It was then that I noticed a piece of paper by our nightstand. It was folded by there was big writing at the top. `Love George,' it read. I didn't mean to be nosey, but I hoped that Pierre wasn't seeing him again. Nobody deserves to be hurt like that. But it got me thinking. Damien might have not hurt me physically but he was constantly confusing me. He would ignore me one moment and then be all over me the next. Hopefully things will change. The phone began to ring.

"Hello?"

"It's me, Damien. I'm on my cell phone. I just forgot to say goodnight. So um... goodnight Ethan."

I laughed.

"Goodnight Damien."

My spine tingled. A strange feeling started to overwhelm me. It was the impending feeling that my life was approaching some kind of horrible closure.