Date: Fri, 16 Jun 2023 11:56:10 -0500
From: William Marshal <williammarshal5301@gmail.com>
Subject: Exposed Chapter 2

Exposed: Chapter 2

Brock's parents had reservations at a dinner private club the average Joe
wouldn't even know existed, let alone be able to make reservations. "Now
James, don't be shy about ordering," Nelson Champlain said, "This is coming
out of Brock's college fund."

James politely smiled at the obvious dad joke."

In addition to the meals, Nelson ordered a bottle of wine. "James," he
said, "Do you drink wine?"

"On occasion," James replied.

"Good, because this is an occasion. It isn't everyday that my son becomes
an adult."

"Wait dad," Brock said, "I need to tell you and mom something that might
make you change your mind."

"Shit!" James thought, and nearly said allowed, "he's going to fucking come
out to his parents!" James started looking around for the nearest exit, and
hoped his phone had enough charge to call an Uber.

"I just resigned as captain of the soccer team," James said.

"Why son? Why would you do that? You love sports," Nelson said.

"Because I did something yesterday that was disrespectful and mean, and
unworthy of a team captain." Brock then told his parents about what he did
at the game, but stopped short of telling them of the Minutemen's revenge.

Brock's parents sat quietly for a minute then Nelson Champlain said, "I'm
proud of you. Of course not what you did, but the responsibility you are
taking for it. Sometimes, a man has to admit what he's done is wrong,
accept the responsibility, and resolve to be a better person in the
future."

""I understand," Brock said quietly.

"So are you still on the team?"

"I think so, but I might not get much play in the next game, maybe even the
season." James doubted that was true. The coaches at Mill Brook were too
desperate to win to bench their best players; none-the-less, James was
impressed that Brock was willing to accept the possibility that his actions
had ended his season.

"It doesn't matter," Brock's mother said, "We will be at the next game."

"That's right," Nelson said. "If you aren't on the field, you will be with
us in the stands cheering for the team...Is there anything else you want to
tell us?"

"No, dad." James let out the breath he'd been holding for what seemed an
eternity.

"Then let's enjoy this evening and celebrate Brock coming of age" Nelson
Champlain lifted the glass and said, "To my son, of whom I am so proud."

As James drank to the toast, he had three questions: "How such great
parents raise such an utter asshole? Where was the real Brock Champlain?
And, why wasn't Mr. Champlain his dad?"

The rest of the meal was relaxed, the conversation pleasant, and Brock, at
least Brock's imposture, was actually a decent human.

On the ride back to the dorm, Brock said, "I am so sleepy. Now I wish the
football team had lost so the hall would be quiet.

"You don't mean that. I saw you yelling for your fellow jocks. Hell, even I
was happy for them." However, James knew the celebration would be loud and
obnoxious. James' room was below that of Mike Lackland and Tony Rice,
linebackers and defensive captains. After their last win, they kept him up
until two in the morning before the drunken pricks finally passed out.

Back in James' room, Brock stripped to his underwear and sat down in the
bed. Almost instantly he was asleep while sitting up. The last drop of
adrenaline was used up and 48 hours without sleep finally caught up with
him.

James figured it was useless to try getting him back to his own room. Even
if he could carry Brock up a flight of stairs. Getting him down the hall to
his room through the celebrating Condoms would be near impossible. So James
gently lay Brock down and put his legs up on the bed. After covering him
up, James grabbed two comforters that he had turned into bed curtains then
hung them from hooks anchored in the rail of the top bunk. Why the room
came with a bunk rather than a single bed, James wasn't sure, but he did
find a use for it. Once the comforters were hanging from the top bunk the
noise was muffled and the light blocked. This was James's secret safe
place, and now he was sharing it with the guy who had tormented him for
three years.

After taking a piss, grabbing a book and locating his sound blocking
headphones, Brock climbed into the top bunk to read.

The next morning at Sunday brunch, Kip and a couple of the other soccer
players came over to the table where James and his group of fellow outcasts
were eating. "Hey Spangler, do you know where Brock is? He didn't come back
to the room last night."

"He's sleeping off his birthday party. His father threw him quite the
party."

"Why would he invite you rather than his friends?" one of the other soccer
players asked.

"Maybe because I know how to use a fork and chew with my mouth closed."

"Watch it faggot, or I'll close your mouth!"

"Nate, what did we say about using that kind of language?" Kip said/

"Fuck it, when did we become so politically correct?"

"Since I told you to knock it off. If you want to challenge me, go
ahead. However, let me remind you of how badly I kicked your cousin's ass
last year. Are you tougher than your cousin?....I didn't think so."

 Kip then turned back to James and asked, "However, it is interesting that
Brock invited you and not someone like, I don't know, his roommate of four
years?"

"Actually, his mother knows my mother and she wants to be able to say she
saw me. Probably, some excuse to start a conversation before asking if my
mom wants to be on another charity board."

"See," Kip said, "It's not some kind of Agatha Christie mystery. Although I
am curious as to why he's in your room rather than his."

"I don't remember telling you he is in my room. However, he is. I barely
got him up one flight of stairs. I wasn't going to go for two. Besides, the
football player, and I presume some of the other jocks, seemed to be having
a party of their own...until, fucking three o'clock."

"Again very sound reasoning, Spangler. You seem to have thought it all
out. Good job."

Another of the guys said, "Hey, let's put lipstick and makeup on Brock. It
will freak him out when he looks in the mirror."

James said, "Lance, I didn't know you are in the drama society."

"I'm not! Why do you think I am?"

"Excuse me, I just don't know where you would get lipstick and makeup at an
all-boys boarding school if you weren't in drama."

The jocks and the nerds both laughed and Lance Rush turned red. "Look here
you...you...you know what you are..."

James stood up and said, "Class valedictorian...National Merit
finalist...president of the debate club..." Lance grabbed the lapel of
James' jacket and he drew back for a punch, and something snapped in
James's mind. Rather than covering up, or trying to escape, the
self-defense lessons he was forced to take kicked in.

Without even thinking, James drove the heel of his hand across Lance's
face, Then with both hands he grabbed Lance's wrist and twisted it, putting
intense torque on the wrist, elbow, and shoulder.

Lance screamed in pain and dropped to his knees. James said, "It's a good
thing soccer players don't need to use their upper limbs for anything."

"No, please don't. It hurts! It hurts!" Lance continued to scream.

Then from across the cafeteria, the Headmaster yelled, "James Pierce! Stop
right now!"

James eased the pressure on Lance's arm, but didn't release it.

The Headmaster walked toward the two boys and said, this time in a calm but
commanding voice, "James Pierce, let go of Lance." James did and Lance
crumpled to the floor holding in arm. Tears clearly streaming down his
face.

James looked down at Lance and said loud enough for everyone to hear, "Yes,
I do know what I am, and you just had your ass kicked by a faggot."

"Now Mr. Pierce, go to my office and wait for me!"

As James walked to the cafeteria exit he could feel three hundred and
twenty-four eyes on him. Some were shocked, some were in disbelief, some
were angry, some were supportive, and some were filled with pride for the
first time since entering Mill Brook Academy. The one thing that was
certain, none of those eyes would ever look at James Spangler Pierce the
same way again.

After seeing that one of the faculty took Lance to the E.R. for
examination, and ordering the boys to finish eating and return to their
dorms, Headmaster Ezra Gates stormed to his office along with the schools
counselor, Mitch Morton. Morton kept an eye on James while Gates called the
boy's parents.

Gates door didn't completely latch when he slammed it and stood enough ajar
James could hear the Headmaster's side of the conversation.

The first call was to Lance's parents. Gates told them that Lance had been
in an "altercation with another student" and was currently at the Mill
Brook E.R. Then James heard, "Dean Meyers is interviewing students who
witnessed the altercation.".... "No, we have not contacted the police."
.... "Of course that is your right; however, you might want to wait until
our investigation is complete before doing so. ... Certainly, I will expect
you sometime tomorrow."

The next call was to James Sr. After explaining what happened, James heard,
"Yes, Mr. Pierce. I was unaware of those family changes, I will most
certainly call Ms. Spangler."

James smiled because it appeared she had finally carried through with her
threats to leave James father, and was taking him with her.

The next call was to Julia Spangler. Again Gates relayed the same narrative
in nearly identical words. When he finished describing the altercation,
there was a brief pause, then he said, "Yes Ms. Spangler, I will expect you
tomorrow."

James was a bit annoyed that there was nothing in what he heard to gauge
what his mother's reaction would be when she arrived. James was so focused
on what his mother might be thinking that he almost missed Gates making one
more call. This time to the Mill Brook Academy attorneys. Gates didn't go
into any conversation about what had happened, and just said he needed to
see a lawyer before Lance's parents and Julia Spangler arrived.

As soon as Kip finished his statement for Dean Meyers, he was on a dead
sprint to the dorm, before anyone else ran into Brock before he did. When
Brock wasn't in their room, Kip went down to James' room and knocked. He
was about to leave and look somewhere else, when the door was opened by a
still sleepy Brock. Kip desperately wanted to know what Brock was doing in
nothing but a pair of boxers in James' room, but first he had to tell him
about what just happened.

Kip started to recount the story, then stopped and said, "Wait, I need to
record this," and he pulled out his phone to record. ".... So, after James
finally released Lance, he said, `Yes, I do know what I am, and you just
had your ass kicked by a faggot.' Everyone in the cafeteria heard it....Oh,
and one more thing, Gates kept calling James Pierce instead of Spangler."

"Shit, I know who James really is!" Brock said excitedly. "He's James
Pierce's son."

"Who is James Pierce?"

"Surely you've heard of Pierce International. I bet half of the guys at
this school have one parent that works for, supplies, purchases, competes
with or is invested in Pierce International."

"Pierce is a common name, how do you know James is that guy's son, and why
would he hide who his father is? Every other guy at this place would have
that tattooed on his forehead, and expect the rest of us to kiss his ass."

"I told you my mother knows James' mother. It didn't click until just now
that Julia Spangler is the wife, maybe by now ex-wife of James Pierce. Hell
I actually met them at a party my parents were throwing for some museum
board. James wasn't there, but I remember them. From what my mother has
said James Pierce Sr. doesn't get along with his son, James Pierce, Jr. I
bet James started using his mother's name because of that."

Did you know he is gay?" Kip asked.

"Yeah, he told me yesterday."

"Is that why you spent the night in his room and have suddenly become
buddies."

"We're not buddies, and what are you implying? What? Do you think I'm gay
or something?"

Kip sat there for a while trying to think of how he was going to say what
was on his mind. Finally, he said, "Brock, this is our fourth year as
roommates. Don't you think that sometime in four years a guy isn't going to
notice the kind of porn his roomie watches. I see the look on your face
when we jack off together. I don't care, I'm a freaking exhibitionist. I
get off on being watched; that's my dirty secret. Plus, I know we joke
about you scoring with the locals, but I know that's just cover talk for
the locker room. Okay bro, no judgment, total safe zone, have you ever been
with a girl?"

Brock looked at the floor then shook his head no.

"So what's the deal with James? Suddenly you two are best buds. Then the
thing in the cafeteria. I don't think James suddenly just decided to get
snarky and push Lance's buttons. It was like James was ready to come out
and was just looking for the most dramatic way possible."

Brock looked Kip in the eyes and said, "I need you to keep a secret,
nuclear launch code type secret. Can you do that?"

"For you, absolutely."

So Brock told Kip what had happened the day before, how James had rescued
him, helped him cover, all in spite of James' feelings about how the jocks
had treated him. "He hated me, maybe still does, but he helped me. It
wasn't just cutting me down or giving me something to wear. He protected my
reputation, he got his friend to get my wallet and keys back, he took care
of me."

"I see," Kip said.

"I haven't come out as gay to James. I figure after four years of being
roomies and besties, you should be the first to know for sure, but I think
he knows in the same way you knew. I hope I didn't just fuck up our
friendship."

"Absolutely not, we are bros for life. Now I think we need to hug." Brock
and Kip were every bit as real of brothers as if they had the same parents
and their hug was one of true familial love. Both young men shed some tears
on each other's shoulders. Finally, Kip decided to lighten the mood, and
said, "Was that yours or my cock that just moved."

"It might have been mine." Brock answered.

"Good, I was afraid I wasn't hot enough for you. You seem to be into cute,
sassy, nerd types."

"No, if you weren't my brother, I'd for sure be into you," Brock said.

"Yeah you gotta draw the line somewhere. Okay, let go of me, I've got to
run down the hall and take a piss."

Brock smiled and pointed to a door. When Kip opened the door he yelled,
"What the fuck! He's had his own bathroom for three years, and we've had to
share toilet and showers with a bunch of fucking animals. I don't think
that once in four years George McKaye has flushed a toilet."

"Yeah, and Axtel Grant's aim is so bad he couldn't piss into the middle
Atlantic Ocean, even if he were standing in a canoe."

Kip said, "You know, this is a really big room, and it has that bunk
bed. Do you think James would let us move in with him for the rest of the
year?"

Brock laughed and said, "I think he would find our smell just as offensive
as we find George McKaye's. Now take your piss because you have to help me
find a way to talk to James."

As it turned out, Lance Rush had no dislocated joints or torn
ligaments. So, the E.R. doctor gave him a sling and told him to take it
easy for a couple of days.

On campus, Headmaster Gates had to decide what to do with James and Lance
until the disciplinary hearing. The only real place to isolate two students
from the rest of the student body was the campus infirmary. So, James and
Lance were locked in separate sick rooms. The next problem was who would
supervise them. As it turned out, the only male faculty member living on
campus who did not have a family was Mr Gregg, the librarian.

Mr. Gregg was very nice, but closing in on 70. He could have retired years
before, but having no family and no interests outside of the school, he
never got around to turning in his retirement papers. It was the considered
opinion of many on the faculty that Gregg was a bit senile, but Gregg had
been an actor on Broadway and few people knew that the "Doddering Librarian
of Mill Brook Academy" was one of his greatest roles. It allowed him to
skip faculty meetings; avoid committee assignments, opt out of supervising
ball games and other extracurriculars; he even got by with parking his car
in the spot reserved for the Headmaster. However, what it allowed him to do
best was observe people.

When Brook and Kip saw that only Gregg was left in the infirmary watching
James and Lance they decide to sneak in. The lounge TV was on, but Gregg
looked to have fallen asleep watching Sunday Night football. Just as they
were about to slip past Gregg, the old man's cane snapped up between
Brock's legs and he dropped like a sack of potatoes.

"Mr. Sander, it is going to be a bit before your friend can speak. So why
don't you tell me why you two are trying to sneak in here."

"Well Mr. Gregg, we...we were wanting to speak with James... you know, like
see how he's doing."

Gregg smiled and said, "I think your friend needs to lie down for a
minute. There is an empty bed in room two. Why don't you take him there
until he feels better. Here is the key. It also opens room number one if
you feel the need to rest as well."

Kip took Brock to room 2, and let him in. When James saw the pain Brock was
in, he asked, "What's the matter with Brock."

"Mr. Gregg...."

"You don't need to go any farther. He got the cane," James said.

"Yep, that old man is probably a leading cause of declining American
fertility," Kip said with a chuckle. Then Brock moaned, and Kip said, "Oh,
sorry buddy. Hey, James see if you can do anything for our friend, I'm
going to step across the hall for a minute."

When Kip opened the door, Lance smiled and said, "You and the team come to
show the fag who runs this school."

Kip looked at Lance with cold eyes and said, "Use the f-word again and your
other arm will be in a sling. Got it, asshole."

"Wait! You're taking the fff...his side. Look what he did to me."

"Yes, and what I'm hearing is half the witnesses are saying you started
it. That Spangle was just defending himself. Moreover, not that many of the
rest of the witnesses are willing to lie for you. There are a whole lot of
people who just didn't see anything."

"I don't care, my dad is pissed and he's ready to sue. So if this school
doesn't want a shit load of trouble, they'll expel that pervert."

Kip smiled and said, "When you had that party for the soccer team at the
end of last season, didn't I see your father was wearing a Bradley Shipping
and Logistics jacket?"

"I don't know. He could have. He's the V-P of the company's North American
Division. What difference does that make?"

"Something my roommate Brock Champlain said...you know Brock...soccer
captain...mean as hell ... by the way did you know he and Spangler are
friends ... yeah, it turns out their parents run in the same social
circle. I don't know why I told you all that. Anyway Brock said he bet half
the families at this school work for or do business with Pierce
International. So out of curiosity I looked up Bradley Shipping and
Logistics, and guess what, Pierce International bought Bradley Shipping and
Logistics six years ago. Now here's the funny thing, Spangler's real name
is James Morgan Pierce, 3rd, and his father is James Morgan Pierce, 2nd,
chairman of Pierce International and your dad's boss. Isn't this a small
world after all."

"I don't know why you're siding with Spangler, but that's bullshit. His
father isn't some industrial tycoon. Hell, he works in the library. He's on
scholarship."

"You make an interesting point. I've wondered about that myself. Let's find
out." Kip grabbed Lance by his good arm and started dragging him to the
infirmary lobby. On the way, Kip made sure Lance's bad arm ran into a
couple of door frames.

"Mr. Gregg, we have a question. Is James Spangle a library aide because he
is on scholarship?"

"Heaven's no, his family is loaded. He's a library volunteer. I don't know
all the nitty gritty, but something about what James calls "The Deal With
the Devil," whatever that means."

Then Kip showed Lance something on his phone. "It wasn't easy to find this,
but you might want to take a look." It was a picture of James Pierce, Sr.,
a face most people would recognize, the the other two faces were not
publicly well known: Julia Spangler Pierce, James Pierce Sr.'s wife, and
James Spangler Pierce, their son."

Mr. Gregg looked at Lance and said, "Are you alright young man? You seem a
little ill." Then he then gave Kip a wink.

"Thank you Mr. Gregg," Kip said. "Well Lance, we have some things to
discuss."

Meanwhile, back in room two, Brock asked, "Can you check my balls, I think
that old man ruptured me."

"He didn't rupture you," James said. "He doesn't swing hard enough to do
that."

"No seriously, I think something is wrong."

"Okay, I guess you did come visit me in jail," then James smiled and added,
"but I'm making it clear from the beginning, this is not a conjugal visit."

Brock stood up and lowered the athletic shorts he was wearing. James had to
bite his tongue to refrain for some sexual comments when he saw Brock was
going commando.

"They look fine to me, maybe a bit red, but nothing unusual."

"You can't just look at them, you have to examine them."

"I'm not a doctor."

"But you know what balls are supposed to feel like. Do they feel normal?"

"I should have just left you tied to that fence," James said as he touched
Brock's testicles. "They're fine. I am sure they've gotten hit worse
playing lacrosse."

"Yes, that's why I now wear a cup. It still hurts with a cup, but it's not
going to crack your eggs. You'd know that if you ever played any sports."

"I've played sports," James said more defensively than he wanted.

"Really, what sports?"

"Tennis, and I'm pretty damn good."

"Really?" Brock said skeptically, "then why aren't you on the Mill Brook
tennis team?"

"Because that would make my father happy."

"You and your father must really not get along."

"Not at all. That's why I am in a boarding school in Massachusetts rather
than a day school in New York City. ... Oh, you can pull your shorts
up. I've seen enough of your pathetic junk in the last two days."

"Hey, my junk isn't pathetic; it's sophisticated."

James burst into laughter, "That's a good one. I'll have to remember that
if I ever get a `C' in a class. `But mom, all the sophisticated boys get
Cs'."

"You know what James, you can be just as much of a bully as I am. You
probably don't remember, but we didn't even know each other the first time
you called me stupid. It was our first year at Mill Brook, Mr. Chandler had
assigned us to be lab partners. The first words out your mouth when we got
together were, `I don't do homework for stupid jocks.' FYI, I am not a
stupid jock, and I don't have a small penis."

"I'm sorry about that. I forget I can be an ass too. So, for the record I
guess if I hadn't been so determined to hate this place, I might have even
made some friends."

"It's not too late," Brock said, "You still have most of our senior year,
and you've already made two friends, me and Kip."

"You are forgetting, they are going to expel me tomorrow."

"That's why me and Kip are here. We're not going to let that happen. We've
got a plan."

"Sorry to disappoint you, but the handwriting is on the wall, Don Quixote."

"Never, we never quit playing until the final whistle is blown, but we have
to make sure you are in the game. Do you want to stay at Mill Brook?"

"Damn, I don't know. Two days ago I would have said hell no, but today I'm
torn. I guess I want to stay. It would be stupid to transfer schools at
this point. I'd lose a whole semester of credits and not graduate in time."

"It's not an enthusiastic yes, but it's what we've got to work with." Brock
stepped into the hall and gave Kip a thumbs up and soon he and Lance joined
Brock and James.

"Okay," Kip said, "This is what we're going to do...."


***********************************
I hope you enjoy "Exposed."

If you have enjoyed reading "Exposed," I hope you contribute to keeping
Nifty.Org a place where I and other authors can share our stories.
https://donate.nifty.org/

Also, if you would like to find other stories I've written, or am writing,
check out https://www.nifty.org/nifty/authors.html#williammarshal