Date: Sun, 11 Jun 2023 19:12:50 -0500
From: William Marshal <williammarshal5301@gmail.com>
Subject: Exposed Chapter 1

Exposed: Chapter 1

"Come on Jimmy. Just do it."

Brock Champlain didn't know what he found more humiliating, being tied
naked and spread eagle to the library fence, or that he was having to beg
Jimmy Spangler to cut him down.

"First of all, my name is not Jimmy; it's James. I stopped going by Jimmy
in the seventh grade. We are now seniors. I would have thought by now you
could have gotten that through your concussion-addled jock brain fog."
James was feeling bold, and suddenly all the things he'd wanted to say were
on the tip of his tongue.

"Second, while we're on the subject of what I want to be called; it's
National Merit Finalist, not nerd, geek, or brainiac; it's near-sighted,
not four eyes, squint, or Mr. McGoo: and it's gay, not fag, fairy, or
homo." James couldn't believe he just officially came out to his personal
Dementor, Brock Chamberlain (yes, add Harry Potter fan to the list), but he
wasn't going to stop now.

"Third, after all the shit you've done to me over the last six years at
this hellhole school, why in the fuck would I help you?"

There was a long silence and finally James and said, "That was not a
rhetorical question asshole. Why in the fuck would I help you?"

"Because I will beat the shit out of you when someone finally does get me
down from here."

James laughed, "Like you and your Planet of the Apes rejects on the soccer
and lacrosse teams haven't knocked me around plenty of times. Guess what,
my pain will go away, but you will live forever on the internet," James
said as he took out his phone and started video recording.

"Asshole I'm going to kill you, literally kill you, if that ends up on
twitter or anywhere else."

James started to laugh, then said, "Seriously, you think you're not on the
internet already. You think whoever did this said to themselves `we've tied
him naked to a fence in the middle of Mill Brook Academy, but posting
pictures of his humiliation on the internet would be going too far.' Are
you really that fucking stupid? Besides, whoever did this to you is
probably waiting to see who is stupid enough to help you, so they can tie
that poor sap naked beside you."

"They're not around anymore. It was the Revere School's soccer
team. They're back in Boston already."

"Well, I need to send the Minutemen a thank you note. Speaking of
Minutemen, did you know you have a small cock?"

"Fuck you Jimmy, it's just cold out here!"

"Oh, I hope the Minutemen put that it was cold in the video's caption,
otherwise it's going to be pretty hard, no pun intended, for you to get a
date to the Christmas formal. I bet you're wishing that after you guys ran
up the score on them last night, you hadn't decided to tackle and dry hump
their mascot. Although, had they seen your cock beforehand, they would know
there was no chance of penetration."

"So help me Jimmy, you are a dead little fuck!"

"If I were you, I wouldn't call anyone a little fucker."

"Wait, are you still recording this?" Brock yelled as he struggled against
the ropes. However they weren't budging. Someone on the Revere Academy
soccer team must have gotten his Scout badge for tying knots, James
thought.

"Yeah, I bet you haven't even thought that for the rest of the year ten or
twelve of the guys you pass in the halls will be wanking off to video of
your naked jock body tied to that fence. Oh, and every time you have to go
to the library for some little research project or to check out a book, you
will have to walk by this spot and remember."

"Why are you being so fucking mean? Sure, I may have teased you a bit, but
it was all in fun."

"All in fun! Popping my ass with a towel is fun? You think dumping a bowl
of jello on my head is fun? You think a fucking swirly is fun!? You think
being a target everyday is fun!?" James said as he got more and more
emotional. "It may have been the Minutemen that did this to you, but you
can't imagine how many times I wanted to do something like this or worse to
you. But I couldn't even yell, stop, or tell the Dean, because I knew it
would only get worse if I did."

"Okay, okay, I get it. I treated you like shit and you hate me, but come on
you can't leave me like this."

James wiped away some tears and said, "I'm sure your teammates will start
missing you and send out a search party, or someone will need to check out
a book from the library," James said, knowing full well few students
visited the library on Saturday morning, and most who did used the back
entrance because it was closer to the dorms. In fact the only reason James
was there was because the key Mr. Gregg, the librarian, gave the student
aide who opened the library on the weekends was to the front door.

"Consider yourself lucky. It's probably not a girl that's going to find
you." Mill Brook Academy was an all-boys boarding school. "Unless...."

"Unless, what?"

James looked at his watch, "Well, the Headmaster's wife usually walks her
dog along here about this time."

Brock's eye grew large, and the said, "Fuck no! You can't let Pickles be
the one that finds me." Headmaster Gates' wife had gotten that name years
before in reference to her sour demeanor. It was said she hadn't smiled
since 1972 just before the Mill Brook Academy Board of Directors officially
prohibited the caning of students as a form of punishment.

"Come on Spangler just name it, anything you want, it's yours. You know my
family has money. Hell, just name your price."

James laughed, "I don't need or want anything your daddy can charge on his
credit card." Most students at Mill Brook Academy thought James was on
scholarship since he worked in the library. The truth was James' father
could buy and sell most of the families that sent their kids to Mill Brook
Academy. After a bad experience with a roommate his Freshman year, James
wanted a single room. However, his father would only pay for a single dorm
room if James played sports, got involved in an activity, or
volunteered. So James decided to volunteer at the library. Not exactly the
idea of getting involved James Sr. had in mind, but then Mill Brook Academy
wasn't the school James wanted to go to.

Most kids with a father that had the clout of James' would have made a call
home and the bullying and harassment would have been replaced by kowtowing
and ass kissing. However, there was a reason he chose to be James Spangler,
rather than James Morgan Pierce, 3rd. James despised his father. So, James
was registered as Spangler, his mother's maiden name.

"Fuck James, are you going to help? Are you even listening to me?" Brock
said growing more desperate.

James started to walk away. Lost in his own thoughts, it was like he'd even
forgotten Brock existed. As far as bullies go Brock was an amateur. James
has seen worse; James Morgan Pierce, 2rd was a professional bully. It was
how he got what he wanted. He bullied competitors, suppliers, union, New
York's social elite, his wife, and his son. James Sr. took his parenting
lessons from the Spartans. The reason James didn't tell his father about
the bullying was because his father would have cheered for the bullies. He
would have said, "They are turning you into a man; a man tough enough to
run the Pierce empire." Little did James Sr. realize that James was even
tougher than that; he was on his way to being tough enough to tear down the
Emperor.

Suddenly a sound snapped James out of his trance and he grabbed the lock
blade pocket knife his maternal grandfather had given him when he was
twelve, and he ran back toward Brock. Brock's eyes widened as a wild-eyed
teen ran toward him wielding a knife. Brock remembered the deer he'd shot
the previous year, and how the guide hoisted the animal by its front legs
to gut it. He felt like that buck.

Brock panicked and cried, "Don't hurt me. Please don't hurt me" just as he
felt the blade slip between his wrist and the rope and with one quick pull
James freed Brock's right arm. He then made quick work on the ropes
restraining the left arm and the legs. James grabbed Brock's wrist and
said, "Follow me!"

At the side of the library entrance was an outside stairwell that led to
the basement. James pulled Brock down the stairs minutes before Pickles and
her golden retriever turned the corner. James had heard her scolding her
dog across the quad, and he knew she was headed toward Brock and a scandal
for him, her, and Mill Brook. As James sat crouched next to a naked jock
and his tormentor, all James could do was wonder, why? He didn't care about
Pickles, he didn't like Mill Brook, and he hated Brock, why didn't he just
sit back and watch shit happen?

When Pickles and her dog were out of sight, James said, "I'm going to go
unlock the library door, when I get it unlocked, make sure the coast is
clear and then make a dash for it." When the door was open Brock came
running, and James couldn't resist whistling. Brock blushed.

Once safely inside, James took Brock to a study room in the back office
that he'd talk Gregg into letting him use as his personal study
space. Gregg was the one person at Mill Brook that seemed to give a shit
about James, and he was going to be sure to reward the librarian for that
one day.

A half dozen students stopped in to return or check out books. Two or three
others were researching an assignment. And Mr. Harmony, the world history
teacher, put some material on reserve. However, the library was mostly
quiet. The library closed at noon so students could go to the football
game. Because Mill Brook was a boarding school, home football games were
scheduled on Saturday afternoon so parents and alumni could attend. Unless
sick or their parents picked them up for the weekend, all students were
required to attend the game. James had already used being sick twice to get
out of going to a game, and he wasn't going to be excused this time.

After locking up, James went to get Brock. When he opened the door, Brock
was using a Kleenex to wipe cum off of his chest.

"Seriously dude, you jacked off sitting at my desk. I would have thought
you'd had enough embarrassment for one day."

Brock blushed, and said, "Sorry, it's kind of how I deal with stress. Plus,
now you can see I don't have smallcox."

"It's okay I guess," James said. "It's just that mine is bigger. Somehow I
always imagined jocks having bigger than average dicks."

"What are you talking about? My cock is bigger than average. How long is
your cock?"

"Somewhere between 7.5 and 8."

"Bullshit," Brock said. "Prove it. Show me."

"I'm not showing you my cock. Mr. Straight Pants."

"First off, Mr. Straight Pants? What the hell is that?" Brock asked.

"Yeah, as far as taunts go, that was pretty lame," James admitted.

"Second, who said I'm straight."

"You're not straight?"

"I didn't say that either," Brock said with a smile. "If you're not showing
me the alleged 8-inch cock, I'm not telling you my sexuality."

"That's fine by me. I've seen and learned too much about you today
already. Let's just get back to the dorm so we can get to this stupid game
on time. The last time I was late the P.E. asshole made me run two laps for
every minute of the game I missed."

"How many laps did you have to run?"

"16"

"You missed the entire first quarter!?"

"Yeah, it's stupid they make us go to the football game when they don't
make us go to any other sports or activities."

"You think everyone should have to go to the soccer and lacrosse games?"

"Fuck no! I am not pro-soccer or lacrosse; I'm anti-football." That wasn't
quite true, but James wasn't going to admit he hadn't missed a home soccer
or lacrosse game in two years.

"I can't walk to the dorm like this," Brock said, "Someone will see me."

"What do you care? By now you're probably trending on the internet as
#muscle jock with small cock."

"Oh fuck, at the game everyone is going to laugh at me. My parents are
going to be there. They're taking me out after the game to celebrate my
birthday." James could hear the despair in Brock's and see it in the way
his shoulder's drooped.

"Come with me. I think I know where there are some clothes you can wear to
the dorm."

The old part of the library was one of the oldest buildings on campus and
housed the original auditorium which was still used on occasion for dances,
banquets, and the annual dinner theater. Behind the stage was a small
closet where costumes were often left after shows. As it turned out, the
last show had been the drama department's night of one act plays.

They found a dress shirt, some casual pants and a pair of dress shoes that
fit reasonably well. "What if someone asks why I am wearing dressy clothes
on a Saturday morning?" Brock asked

James hung an untied necktie around Brock and said, "Just tell them your
rich spinster aunt was in town and wanted to have breakfast with her
favorite nephew."

"Do you think anyone will believe that?"

"What would you normally do if someone called you a liar?"

"No one has ever called me a liar to my face."

"Why not?"

"Because they're afraid I'll kick their asses."

"So there you go. Just be the asshole you normally are, and things will
work out."

"I don't know. You sure as hell don't seem to be scared of me anymore."

"That's because I've seen you exposed and vulnerable. So while your ability
to inflict pain on my body hasn't changed, your ability to frighten and
torment me is gone. For want of a better description, you can't live in my
Zen anymore."

When they got back to the dorm, they went to James's room. James lived a
floor below Brock in what had been a dorm parents room back when that was a
thing. As a result it was near the stairs, had windows on two sides, and
had its own bathroom.

When Brock entered the room all he say was, "What the fuck. How did you
swing this?"

James for sure didn't want to say anything about his dad, so he told half
the truth. "My Freshman year Carter Good was my roommate and one night he
went bat shit crazy."

"Yeah, I remember," Brock said. "The story was he ended up in a mental
facility. I heard your family sued the school because he broke your nose
and shit."

"Something like that."

James didn't want to say that the "real settlement" was an agreement
between James and his father. In addition to the "campus involvement
clause" James had to agree to get the room, his father made him stay home
and take self-defense classes all Summer, while his parents vacationed in
Europe. The only good part of that summer was that the hot British guy they
hired as an au pair was gay and not the least bit shy about introducing an
15-year-old to man/boy sex. The day Rex Sheffield flew back to London was
the hardest day of James' life.

"Why don't you take a shower," James said, "and I'll go see if I can find
you some clothes for the game." Then James headed up to Brock's floor.

The floor was empty. This was the senior jock hall. All of the football
players were already at the stadium and the rest were at the cafeteria
eating. He went to Brock's room door and knocked. There was no answer so he
put in a key and turned it. It opened and James muttered, Fucking cheap ass
school."

A few years back, maintenance was asked to convert all of the doors to the
library's storage rooms to the same key to make things easier for
Mr. Gregg. Rather than buying new locks they just used some of the old
locks lying around the maintenance shop. It turned out that the locks they
used were spare dorm room locks. So the key they gave Mr. Gregg for the
storage rooms was also a master key to the dorms. James was probably the
only person who knew that secret and he accidentally discovered it when he
locked himself out of his room and decided to try all the library keys to
see if one would open his room. It wasn't long before he found it opened
all room in the dorm, and he went right down to the locksmith and had a
duplicate made.

The minute he opened the door, James knew he was in a jock room. It smelled
like an old worn jockstrap, and not in a good way. He quickly found some
jeans, a T-shirt, a Soccer hoodie, and some old running shoes. He thought
about forgetting the underwear, but decided to grab a pair of boxer briefs
and socks. As he was about to leave, he noticed a crusty pair of boxers by
the bed and immediately knew they were Brock's cum rag. He looked at the
bed on the other side of the room and saw another pair of crusty
boxers. "Fuck," James said, "I bet the horny bastards jack off together."

Before leaving the room James checked to make sure the hall was still empty
and then headed back to his room. Brock had just finished showering and was
drying off when James came back.

"Hey sorry, I had to borrow your towel."

"Well, I'm glad to see you're drying your ass with it."

"Oh shit, I'm sorry."

"There'd better not be shit on my towel."

"Hey, I may be lots of things, but I am always clean."

"You sure couldn't tell by the way your room smells."

"Was Kip in the room? How did you get in?"

"No he wasn't in the room. As for how I got in, that is a state secret. Now
I need to get dressed for this stupid game," James said as he pulled off
his shirt.

"Okay," Brock said and sat down on the bed.

"Are you just going to sit there and watch me change?"

"Why not, you've seen me naked most of the morning. Besides, there is still
the controversy of this alleged eight inch cock to settle.

"Fine!" James dropped his pants and underwear to the ground and put his
hands behind his head, then said, "Take a good look, but you'd better never
call me a fag again."

Brock looked James in eyes and said in a sincere voice, "I have never
called you a fag. I have never called anyone a fag."

Brock's response caught James completely off guard. It was true, James
could not remember Brock ever calling anyone a fag, and although he'd
accused Brock of being homophobic earlier in the day, he was hard pressed
to think of any time he'd actually heard Brock said something
homophobic. Then James said, rather defensively, "It doesn't matter if you
actually said the words, your jock buddies said it plenty of times and you
didn't object. That's just as bad."

"Yes, it is. I'm sorry."

Now it was James who felt awkward, not because he was standing naked in the
middle of his room, but because....well, he didn't really know why....he
just wasn't sure he hated Brock quite as much.

Finally James asked, "Is it settled?"

"Is what settled?"

"The eight inch controversy."

"I'd have to see it hard to say for sure," Brock said, then smiled and
added, "but I ain't betting money against it."

James finished getting dressed and said, "I guess I'm ready to go. The
cafeteria is closed, so I guess it's concession crap for lunch."

"Fuck," Brock said at the mention of concessions, "Those assholes took my
wallet and my keys. What am I going to do? They have my bank card, cash,
drivers license, I.D., everything. They are going to fuck my life up!"

"Don't panic just yet. Let me call a friend. He may be able to help." The
person James called was Rex Sheffield, his former au pair. When he went
back to London, Rex had finished his computer degree and went into cyber
security. James had actually reconnected with Rex when Rex was trying to
get his security clearance. He'd called James and the conversation was very
awkward and indirect. Finally, James just flat out asked him what the call
was about, and Rex told him.

James said, "Look Rex, you took care of me. You made me breakfast every
morning, took care of my laundry, and drove me to those damn self-defense
classes. Other than that, we watched movies, swam in the pool, and talked
about life. You did burn the French toast once, but I won't hold that
against you."

Rex thanked James and gave him his personal email and phone number in case
he ever needed anything or wanted to visit. James had already told his
parents he wanted to spend the Summer after his graduation in London;
however, he hadn't mentioned Rex.

When Rex answered the phone, James said, "Sorry to bother you again, but
you know that problem I called you about earlier today............There is
a new wrinkle.........They have his bank cards, I.D., and keys......Great
thanks, I owe you....Yes I do. You have no idea how important that Summer
was for me...."

When James hung up, Brock said, "I'm sorry to eavesdrop, but you were
talking to someone about me, right?"

"Yes, but I can't tell you now. Hopefully by this evening everything will
be straightened out."

When they got to the game, James intended to sit with his usual group of
disgruntled comrades. While they were friendly, they were less friends than
allies in the battle against all things Mill Brook, especially jock
culture.

However, Brock asked, "Will you sit with me and my parents? I really don't
want to do this alone."

As they were headed in the direction of Brock's parents, all he could think
was, "How the hell did I get myself into this."

Brock's parents had the boy's sit between them. Brock sat next to his
father, and James sat next to Brock's mother. Mrs. Champlain had as much
interest in the game as James did, so they soon were engaged in
conversation. After a quarter of polite chatter. Florence Champlain asked,
"I hope I am not out of bounds, but are you Julia Spangler's son?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"She and I are on a couple of charity boards, and she mentioned that her
son was at Mill Brook Academy. Would you mind if I mention that I met you?"

"Not at all. Feel free to tell my MOTHER anything." Florence nodded that
she understood why James emphasized mother.

Julia Spangler had started using her maiden name when she moved out of the
Pierce family mansion the day after James returned to school for his Senior
year. She had always found the mansion oppressive in both its neoclassical
architecture and its family legacy.

She now lived in a very modern, light-filled apartment on 5th Ave that
James had only seen in pictures. While she hadn't officially changed her
name, she only used Pierce when attending events with James Sr. or signing
legal documents. Her new bully-free life was as Julia Spangler. She'd made
three things clear when she walked out of the Pierce mansion: First, there
would be no divorce and no reconciliation. James Sr. was free to carry on
with as many mistresses as he wanted, but he would never remarry. Second,
she intended to do the same. Third, her son James would inherit the entire
Pierce empire. Any bastard he might spawn would receive only the crumbs HER
son might feel like offering the runt.

To make her ultimatum stick, Julia and several key officers of Pierce
International had spent years putting a financial noose around James Sr.'s
neck. If he crossed them, not only would he lose the company, but he faced
the likelihood of a federal investigation and possible prosecution. After
years of living with a tyrant, Julia was now in charge, and her husband was
a financial eunuch. James knew his mother had moved out, but he didn't know
his mother had just pulled off a coup worthy of Cathrine the Great. So as
he sat next to Florence Champlain he was unaware that his life was about to
change for the better.

At half-time, James and Brock were standing in line at the concession
stand, and Brock said, "It's like nobody knows. I thought for sure this
would be hell, but no one has said anything to me. No one is laughing and
pointing fingers. Nothing."

"You sound disappointed."

"No, just confused and nervous. It's like I know the volcano is about to
erupt, but I don't know when or how bad."

"Welcome to my life," James replied with a snarky tone.

Just then Brock's roommate, Kip Sanders, walked up. "Hey Brock, got a new
friend?"

Before Brock could answer, James jumped in, "No, his mother and my mother
are friends. So, we are having to pretend to like each other. However, come
Monday he'll be back to terrorizing us nerds with the rest of you
assholes."

"Damn Spangler, where did you find this snippy voice? It's actually kinda
cute; however, I would watch when and who you use it with. You see
Spangler, not all of the jock assholes are as tolerant of smart-mouthed
nerds as Brock and I are." Then Sander completely confused James by giving
him a smile and a wink.

"Well, I'll see you later," Sanders said to Brock when offhandedly
mentioned, "You didn't make it home last night. Found yourself a cute local
did ya?"

"Uh, yeah," Brock responded less than convincingly.

When Sanders walked away, James wasn't sure what part of that exchange was
real and what part was pretense. Like Brock, Kip had never been overly
homophobic. Also, he was one of the jocks who really didn't seem to go out
of his way to make life at Mill Brook miserable for the non-jocks. And then
there were those cum-crusted boxers left right in the open. James lived
alone, and rarely let anyone into his room, but he still hid his cum
rag. Was this another part of jock culture he didn't get because he wasn't
on the team?

James' bewilderment was interrupted by a public address message, "Brock
Champlain, please come to the announcer's booth. Brock Champlain, please
come to the announcer's booth."

"Shit, what now'" Brock groaned.

"Do you want me to go with you?"

"No, stay here and get the food. I'll go see what the new shit is."

James had just paid for the concessions and was trying to figure out how to
carry it all, when a very happy Brock came bounding up.

"What's up," James asked.

"I got my wallet and keys back, and everything, even the cash is
there. They said someone dropped it off at the ticket booth and said they'd
found them. Then they just ran off."

"That's great. Now help me carry this stuff."

"The odd thing is there was a note in the wallet that said, `Please tell
John Bull we have followed his instructions.' What do you think that means,
and who is John Bull?"

James just shrugged his shoulders and said, "Who knows?"

However, when they got back to their seats, James sent a text to Rex, "Tell
John Bull thank you for all of his help. The problem is solved." Most
American don't know that John Bull is the British equivalent of Uncle Sam.

A few minutes later James got a text reply that said, "Good to hear. See
you this Summer."

Halfway through the third quarter Brock leaned over and whispered in James'
ear. "You know, don't you. You know what the note means."

James smiled and whispered in Brock's ear, "Let's just say there will be
only one boy at Mill Brook Academy, or anywhere, wanking to your video and
pictures."

Brock smiled and whispered, "I can live with that."

The game was close but the Mill Brook "Condoms" pulled out their second win
of the season. So, that night, there would be a big party on the jock hall.

Mill Brook's mascot was the Trojans, but everyone referred to the football
team as the Condoms. The football team was historically at or near the
bottom of the conference. One year the team never put any points on the
scoreboard. The yearbook sports editor decided the headline for the
football story would be, "Trojan hopes unfilled; team fails to score." No
one noticed the innuendo until the books were printed and distributed, and
ever since the football team was ingloriously known as the condoms. It
wasn't uncommon at the first pep rally for boxes of Trojan Ultra Slims to
be thrown onto the court when the football team was introduced, and more
than once some prankster replaced the sign that said "Football Locker Room"
with one that said "CONDOMinium."

While the team and their fans celebrated the rare win, Brock spotted the
soccer coach in the faculty section and ran off to talk with him. James
watched what seemed to be a serious conversation between the two, followed
by a handshake that turned into a bro hug.

When Brock came back to where his parents and James were waiting for the
crowd to clear out, he asked, "I know you are taking me to dinner to
celebrate my birthday. I was wondering if James could come with us?"

Before James could excuse himself from the invitation, Florence Champlain
said, "Of course, we would love to have James help celebrate your 18th
birthday. Reservations are at seven; when do you want us to pick the two of
you up?"

"I know it's a bit early, but would 5:30 be okay? I would like to be out of
the dorm before the football team finishes supper."

"That should give your mother and me time to change, so 5:30 it is," Nelson
Champlain said.

On the way back to the dorm, James said, "Brock you don't need to feel
obligated to invite me to your birthday celebration."

"No, I would really like you to be there.....unless you don't want to."

The way he said, "unless you don't want to," told James that Brock would be
hurt if he didn't go. So, he smiled and said, "Of course I want to go. By
the way, happy birthday."

"Thanks," Brock said, and now it was James' turn to get a bro hug.

When they started up the stairs, Brock asked, "Would it be okay if I get my
suit and get dressed in your room. I don't want to explain to everyone why
I'm all dressed up."

"Okay, sure. Uh, what are we wearing tonight?"

"I was planning to wear my Brookie."

"Then, that's what I'll wear as well."

Brookie was the name for the school uniform. While students didn't wear
their uniforms everyday. All boys were required to own one and wear it for
special occasions, like when a guest speaker was in chapel, and for Sunday
dinner.  The Brookie was a navy blazer with the school crest, a white
button down shirt, class tie, gray pants, and black dress shoes. James
complained as much as anyone else about wearing the Brookie, but he liked
the way he looked with it on. Plus, a number of his classmates, including
Brock, were gay-boner hot wearing it.

James was working on his tie and wearing just underwear and a dress shirt
when there was a knock on the door. When he opened it, there was
Brock. "Damn," slipped out of Brock's mouth before he could stop it, and he
blushed and said, "Sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Any time a gay boy can get a `damn' from a straight jock,
he'll take the compliment," James said with a smile.

James continued getting dressed, while Brock just stood there holding his
Brookie and shoes. When James was finished dressing, he looked at Brock and
said, "I'll step outside while you dress."

Brock suddenly was shook out of what he was thinking about and said, "No,
you don't have to do that....I was just zoned out....It doesn't bother
me.... You know."

"Easy big guy," James said. Then he imitated smoking a joint and added,
"I'm cool with whatever you're cool with. It's all Zen to me."

Brock laughed, then asked, "Do you smoke marijuana?"

You talkin' weed, dope, skunk, herb, Mary Jane, hemp, bud...."

"Stop, I don't need to be mocked by a stoner."

"Oh so now I'm a stoner." James said," Let's see, that makes me a gay,
stoner, nerd. Any other adjectives you want to use to describe me?"

"Well, there's funny, sarcastic, mysterious, honest, honorable, generous,
and one more...oh yeah pretty damn good looking...in a teenage Ross Lynch
kinda way."

"Seriously you just compared me to Ross Lynch. Why not take the train all
the way to ichville and compare me to Justin Bieber. You are really forcing
me to consider whether cutting you down this morning was a good idea."

By this point in the argument, Brock was standing in just his underwear and
smiling as James ranted on. Finally, James said, "And just how the hell did
we get from smoking weed to Justin Bieber. This entire conversation is on
crack, And before you ask, NO, I have never done crack."

"Ah, but you have smoked marijuana, right?"

"Yes, who hasn't?"

"I haven't," Brock said.

"Who's the nerd now? Don't tell me you're a Mormon."

"No, I am not a Mormon. I just think my body is a temple," Brock said as he
began doing muscle poses in just his underwear.

"Come on, just put some clothes on."

"I think someone has the hots for the Brockmeister."

"Fucking narcissistic asshole. Get some clothes on or you're going to be
late for your birthday party."

Brock was faced away from James, looking in the mirror, and trying to tie
his necktie, when he asked. "Do your parents know you are gay?"

"Whoa, conversational whiplash."

"Sorry, I'm just curious."

"So, my mother does; because,I tell her everything. Well, I tell her some
things. My father does not; because, I tell him nothing."

"How did your mom take it?"

"Amazingly well, her only comment was, `I want grandchildren. So you'd
better find a husband who wants to adopt."

Suddenly James went off of a comic rant, "Here's a question: why does
everyone think gay people have to `come out.' Why can't straight people
just figure it out? Why do we have to spell it out for you all: LBGTQ+. You
know what, we should just make it a tradition that everyone had to `come
out' on their eighteenth birthday, even the straight people. Imagine what
that would sound like in Hickville, Texas, `My name is Bubba Jones. My
friends just call me BubJo. This is my 18th birthday and my parents 3rd
anniversary. I guess I'm sposed to decide what I am. I have decided to be
heet-ur-o-sex-ual. That means I like girls. Ain't that right Cousin Sue
Ann?'"

Brock hadn't stopped laughing for more than three minutes since coming back
from getting his Brookie; however, he'd finally managed to get dressed. As
Brock straightened his tie, James asked, "Do you have your speech ready?"

"What speech?"

"Your coming out speech."

"No, I'm struggling with the conclusion," Brock said with a wink.

Just then Brock's phone rang, he answered it, and said, "We'll be right
down."

*****************************

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