Chapter 11





I'm in the park. The park bench is cold. All my clothes are in my gym bag. I get up. My mind is lost. All I can think about is a dance for some reason. I lean forward and stretch. Pressing my legs up against the bench and stretching so hard the average person would have thought my body was going to fucking break.




The voice that says that is from a large  set black guy. I think he's homeless or something. I'm not sure. All I know is that he's one of the biggest men I've ever seen in my life. As he approaches me he stares at me like I'm something to eat.


"I'm good bro," I tell him.


"I can see that," he says licking his lips, "You real good."


I stop stretching and just standing there hoping that would make the guy go away. It's the middle of the night and I don't want to fucking be here but with all the shit that's been going on this is the only place that I know to be. I know I'm not coming off as feminine but then again I was a good-looking guy out here in the middle of the night stretching. Hell, maybe I'm asking for it.


"You mind?" I ask.


"Kinda do," he states, "You can't be sitting there looking all good and shit, that ass lookin' all fat."


"I don't get down like that," I tell him.


"I can teach you..."


"He said he doesn't get down like that."


I turn and realize that it's Santana. He's standing there in some baggy jeans and a hood.


"Yo mind your fucking business...before I take your booty too lil nigga..."


The homeless guy is clearly aggressive. It must be his size. Something tells me this isn't the first time he comes out here looking for young guys to do that too. The way he looks at Santana makes me think that we may have to jump this guy and beat his ass.


"What?" Santana asks.


"I said----"


WHAM! The punch comes out of no. I'm shocked when Santana hits the guy so hard he jerks back. Mind you this guy has to be about 6'4" about 270 pounds. Santana on the other end was probably 170 dripping wet. Sure he was a strong 170 but this wasn't exactly a fair fight. That becomes clear when the big guy jerks his head back showing off the blood dripping out of his lip.


"Yo I'm about to FUCK your life up lil' bitch," he growls.


He's all spitting blood coming at Santana. I hit the guy in the back of the head. The guy grabs me up while I'm swinging on him and I watch as Santana punches the guy right in the throat. The aggressive guy goes down at that point and before I know it we're stomping him out on the side of the curb leaving footprints in his face.


"Come on! Come on!" He says grabbing my bag for me.


Before I know it we're taking off as fast as we can. We run until we can't run anymore and we're under a bridge in the park breathing heavy as fuck. Our faces sweating and our mouths hung open because for some odd reason we are laughing so hard over this.


"So now you got me jumpin' booty bandits?" he asks, "I didn't sign up for this shit when I said we were going to be friends, bro."


More laughter. It's weird as hell that we both find this shit so funny. He is still holding my heavy ass bag for me. I try to take it from him but he jerks it away from me.


I give him a weird look, "How'd you find me?"


"You text me and said that you got kicked out, remember?" he asks, "I been looking for you for the past three hours."


I grunt thinking about it. I didn't even remember telling him that my Aunt Priscilla just kicked me out. All I know is that shit was going crazy when it happened. I don't know why he was the first person to come to mind. Usually, it would have been Prince that I talked to but he was in the house when I stormed off like a maniac.


"Shit hit the fan. My aunt kicked me out."


"Don't you have like 20 Aunts?"


He looks at me. I feel pathetic. I can tell he's trying to be careful with how he asks me the question. He has a smile on his face. He's doing it as a joke, but the real question is the thing that is aching at me. It's the reason I don't smile back at him. The real question is simple: What the fuck is happening in your life that has you sleeping on a park bench?


"My dad left my Aunt for my cousin. I don't think I'm a priority. Not to any of them. So yeah...I'm not really into my family right now. None of them."


"They care. Some people just don't know how to show it..." he explains.


I shrug, "That's dumb, who would have trouble showing something like that if that's how they really feel?"




I raise an eyebrow, "What?"


"Sometimes I have an issue showing my feelings," he states, "How about this. Text your Aunt. Let her know you're OK and let her know where you are staying?"


"A park bench?"


"Nah. With me."




I'm in his room. He has a basketball on one side of the room and a bunch of things about sports. Santana is downstairs at the moment talking to his mother making sure everything was OK. To be honest it was weird that I was staying here. I knew I wouldn't be staying here long but the truth is it was nice of him to offer. And the other truth is that I'd rather be here than in a park with the Booty Bandit trying to keep my asshole clenched while I'm asleep.


He walks in a little later. He has some food with him.


"Ma made some sancocho."


I look down at the plate, "Come again."


He laughs, "7-Meat Stew. It's just a really thick soup. You'll like it. She's a good cook. She was asleep of course but definitely wanted to talk to you, make sure you are OK. You know---the mom thing and shit. Told her you were tired."


"I am kind of..."


"You can take the bed."


I look over at the bed, "You don't have to sleep on the floor because of me man..."


"I don't like you like that," he laughs, "I mean you are the homie, but I LOVE my bed. I didn't plan on sleeping on the yeah. Hope you don't sleep wild..."


He lays in the bed while I eat the soup. He doesn't say anything. It's so weird. The way he talked to me sometimes made it seem like he was really pushing this friendship thing. It was clear that he wanted to be my homie. But it was also clear how attracted I was to him. Now was another example of that. At this point, it was almost becoming like torture. All you hear is me sucking on this soup---which is goddam good and looking at this man----who is goddam better. I mean halfway through laying down he looks like he gets hot. He leans up takes his shirt off and throws it in a pile on the ground. I almost choke on the stew. He has his eyes open but he just looks like he's in deep thought. I just wonder what he's thinking about. I'm wondering that and also wondering how the fuck he got so many abs. I mean dance definitely did a good job with him. I look down at him getting nervous all of a sudden. He has on gray sweatpants. I'm pretty sure he doesn't have underwear underneath him because I can see the dick print from here. I sit at the edge of the bed, look at him. Look at his print. Look at his eyes.


Fuck no.


"I'm gonna sleep on the floor," I state.


"Chill," he responds, "It's not that serious. Just shut the light off and come to bed. Stop being dramatic and shit."


I breathe deep. Fuck he's making this hard. Luckily for me, I get up and go over to the light. I flick the light off. I come back to bed. I find myself taking off my shirt as well. I don't throw it away like he did but place it at the edge of the bed. I'm in bed with him. I just listen to his breathing.


"You asleep?" I ask him.


I'm glad it's dark in here. My dick would be giving it away by how hard it was right now.


"Nah. Thinking..."


My eyes adjust to the darkness to see that sure enough, he is at the edge of the bed. He's still thinking.




"What if something happened to you?" he asks me.


I shrug, "I don't think no one gives a fuck at this point."


My family clearly had their own shit to worry about and I think each one of them called me an idiot at one point or another.


That's when he says the weirdest thing...


"I do."


My heart is beating fast through my chest. I stare at him. Every part of me wants to reach over to him right now. Touch him. Kiss him. Anything. I reach over to him.


I can't take it anymore. I'm hovering over him. My body just looking down on him. My eyes just setting down on him. He can see me. I know he can. He can smell my breath over him, stalking the darkness wanting him so much. My entire body was yearning for him. My dick hard. My ass wet. My heart beating so fast you can hear it in my chest.




"Yeah Desta..."


"If I...what if I..."


I stop.


"What Desta?"


What if I wanted to make love to you? Right here right now? Would you do it? Would you let me? Those are all the things I wanted to ask him. What if I nibbled on his neck? What if I pulled his pants down. What if I put his dick in my warm wet mouth until he melted like white chocolate in the sun. Would he let me taste him? Would he let me swallow? Would he melt for me?


Instead of asking all that I just shake my head.


"I'll sleep on the floor," I tell him.


I get up. He leans forward like he's going to stop me but he stops short. He just leans back down. But as I climb off the bed and go to the floor I notice one thing. One thing I didn't notice before.


Santana's dick was hard.












I'm asleep when I feel the bed move a little bit. I wake up and see him over me.


"What are you doing?"


"You know you want it..."


"Desta quit man, you trippin'. We homies."


"I saw you the other night..."




"I saw you jacking off. I heard you whispering my name the moment you came. Why else would you do that unless you were thinking about me? You shot up more than ever before. Cream everywhere. That shit was like an earthquake. It was like a volcano. That's what we are, Santana. You know it and I know it. We're a volcano. Everything is dormant right now. Everything is calm. Everyone feels safe. Sooner or later we are going to explode."


That's when he leans over me and kisses me. It's this wet kiss. I had a million reasons not to like Desta. He was a guy. I didn't want to be with another guy. I doubt even if we did hook up it would be just a hookup. He would want more. Then there was Rosa. I couldn't fucking do this to Rosa, right?


But I'm not stopping him when his pants come down. I'm not stopping him when he sits right on my raging hard dick after pulling it down. Somehow I lose my sweatpants and I gain this boy on top of me. Somehow I'm squirming as he sits slowly on my dick.




And it feels so good that I don't even last. I explode.






I wake up. It was a dream. None of it happened. I'm panicking as I get up. What the fuck just happened? I look down at that moment. Sure enough, my sweatpants were down but somehow I must have taken them off in the middle of the night. It was so hot last night. Then I realize something else. I realize that I've completely drenched my sheets.


I hadn't had a wet dream since I was 13. Now, this was happening? Again? Now! With Desta laying on the fucking floor.


I get up panicking, trying my best to be quiet but grabbing at my sheets desperately attempting to hide it. I can't wake Desta up. He looks so peaceful laying there.




My mother storms into my room at that moment. I'm shocked when she does it. She never does anything like that. Desta is sleeping on the floor and he jumps up just in time to see me standing there butt naked with my wet dick in my hands.


"Oh shit..." Desta whispers.


I look at Desta on the floor. I look at my mother. They both take turns looking at me and the cum soaked sheets that I have in my hands. It's so much that I can't even pretend like it's something else. The stains are clear as day. I have a really thick sort of semen too. The clear white creamy liquid runs down the sides of the sheets.


"What----the---FUCK!" I state looking over at my mother.


The fact that she just came into my room like that shocks me. My mother's face goes red all of a sudden and she just looks over at me and Desta.


"It's OK," my mother states, "I like him..."


Did she think? No, she didn't think----I can't even make sense of it all. All I know is Desta is getting up off the ground, shirtless in nothing but some shorts and I'm standing over him completely naked with cum soaked sheets. I grab at the nearest pillows. My face is red with this deep embarrassment. Desta just keeps looking at the sheets and then looking at me. He's trying to understand what the fuck is going on and I'm trying to get my mother to get out of the fucking room.


"Ma...oh, my fuckin' god---" I start off.


I wasn't a crier. I had gone to funerals and didn't cry. I had got jumped and didn't cry. I was a tough ass kid growing up. I remember I got mauled by a dog and I didn't shed a fucking tear. Right this moment, I wanted to fucking tear up like a little bitch.


"Listen this stuff is normal," my mother explains, "After what happened with you and what's his name again? Hell, it doesn't even matter what his name is. The truth has I never had a problem with your sexuality. My problem was always who you chose. Desta is a little dark papichulo and he has manners. You know?"


It's getting worse.


"Get out," I tell my mother.


I couldn't believe half of the words coming out of her mouth.


"Hijo, listen hijo..."




I don't mean to scream as loud as I am but I'm damn near shouting. I look over at my mother and she finally turns and walks out of the room.


I'm standing in front of Desta, exposed in more ways than one. What the fuck was I going to say to him? How can I explain the cum soaked sheets? How can I explain to my mother talking about some `guy' and making references to my sexuality? I wasn't a light guy. I had a real Dominican look to me. I was tan. Right now though, none of that shit mattered. My face was red as all fuck and I was in complete shock.


He looks at me.


I look at him.


Fuck I think I would rather have woken up on a train track then wake up to this. It would have been easier to face a fucking train then facing the confused look that Desta has on his face right now.


"I..." I start off.


I owed him an explanation.


He cuts me off before I can give him one though, "You should get ready for school. I'll go take a shower and uh----give you your privacy."


"Yeah, good idea."




He walks out and leaves and I just feel crazy. That's the only way that I can describe it.




We are at school and we're walking together. Truthfully, we are getting weird stares. I'm not sure what it is. A part of me just thinks we make odd friends to a lot of people in school. Another reason people may be looking at us is because of all the gang drama. Then there was the dance. That would be the worst pill to swallow. What if people were looking at us weird because of how intimate our dance was in front of the whole school? How weird would that be?


We are at the locker. We aren't quiet. He's making small talk and I'm trying my best to act like shit isn't weird. Sure, we can talk about the weather. Sure, we can talk about a funny story Tip Toe told us. Or we can talk about how Portia got caught stealing at the local Bodega not too long ago and supposedly got locked up over the weekend.


But that's not what either of us wanted to talk about.


"Man this weather," he's starting off, "Crazy...ain't it..."


"You said that already."


"I did?"


"Yeah son. Like 20 minutes ago," I respond, "You can ask it, Desta."


He sighs, "Ask what?"


"You know what you want to talk about," I tell him, "And you're my homie. I don't want things to get weird between us. So go ahead. Talk to me."


He stares at his open locker. Ain't no books in there. He just doesn't want to look at me. I shut the locker and force him to look at me. We're staring at each other. I know this is awkward for him. It's the last fucking thing I want to do or the last thing I want to talk about. We don't have a choice now though. We're here. We're in this moment and in this position. We might as well have this fucking conversation at this point.


"I'm not trying to get in your business."


"I'm telling you it's OK."


He sighs, "Your mom was talking about a boy this morning..."


I nod, "Yeah."


"Is it what I think?"


I nod. I appreciate him struggling to ask about this but I knew he wanted to know. I know he was avoiding it too. He wanted to spare my feelings. He was scared about what I might think.


"Yeah, it is," I admit.


He looks over at me and shakes his head, "Is it that kid over there?"




"Him? The new kid?"


I turn down the hallway. Sure enough, Matais is standing there. He's walking with Chico and the rest of M83. They are staring me down and it seems like Matais is the one over there that has his dogs on a leash. You would think I had some serious beef with the guys in M83 by how they were looking at me. Seeing them mean-mugging me was definitely a reason to be concerned but right now I don't know why that isn't my priority. My priority is Desta's expression.


For some reason, I can see his expression sink down. He looks almost sad and I don't know why I feel like shit because I'm the reason he has this sad ass look on his face.


"His name's Matais," I state and whisper, "He was my first...experience."






He nods, "Cool."


"That's it. Cool?"


"What you want me to say?"


"Desta yo---you don't' have to say anything. Your face right now is saying it all?"


"I'm a little confused," he explains to me, crossing his arms and leaning down, "You clearly had an experience before. And you kissed me."


"You kissed me, bro..."


"You let me kiss you," he whispers back.


It was annoying arguing with him about this. I don't know how the kiss happened. All that I know is that it shouldn't have happened. All I know is that I was with Rosa and I was trying to keep this friendship with this guy who I really liked being around but somehow this amazing connection that we had was complicating things.


"It's not you, it's me..."


"That's some cliché shit."


I'm irritated that he calls it cliché. If that isn't bad enough he tries to walk off. He has this look in his eyes. It's hurt. For some reason seeing him hurt like that gets under my skin. So I pull him back. I don't care if M83 is watching us. I don't care if Matais is over there watching us. I don't only pull him back but I push him up against the locker.


"Don't walk away from me," I tell him, keeping him there, "I don't want you walking away from me in the middle of an argument. If we argue, we fix things. That's how our relationship works."


"Friendship..." he corrects me.


I shake my head, "You know what I mean."


He shrugs, "I don't and that's the problem."


"I want to be friends with you. That's all," I tell him.


"OK. End of story," he cuts me off, "I got class..."


"No it's not the end of the story," I stop him grabbing him up and this time getting so close that I smush him, "Me and you have this connection and I don't want to hurt you but I have to be honest with myself. That thing...isn't what I want anymore. It's nothing wrong with you. I just know that lifestyle isn't what I want."


"Lifestyle?" he asks.


A part of me wants to raise my voice so he can get the point but we're still in a crowded hallway with people walking back and forth so I lean in, "The gay lifestyle."


I lean a little too close. A little too intimate. My lips brush against his ear lobe. I smell him. He kinda smells good. Why the fuck am I thinking about how he smells though. I try to lean back a little a bit. I'm trying to control myself but we're already too close. Should I step back? Why am I not stepping back? Maybe it's because I know if I am not almost pressed up against him on this locker he'd try to walk away from me. Why do I care if he walks away from me?


I'm so confused about my feelings.


"Doesn't seem like anything is wrong with the lifestyle. Look at my Uncle and his husband."


"That's them. You ever been in a real relationship? And I'm not talking about the bullshit you got going on with Prince..."


He sighs and looks down, "Naw..."


"Exactly. You don't get it. It's hard with two guys. It's challenging. All the sneaking around. All the judgment. And in the end, it's not worth it. It never is. Me and Matias didn't work and I hated myself for even trying. I'm not trying to open myself up to that lifestyle again. I don't want to feel that again."


I don't think I make sense and the reason I don't make sense is because I haven't had the time to really process my own feelings about why I'm so afraid of Desta. I haven't had time to process what happened between me and Matias. Everything is happening so fucking quick and my life has changed so much that I hadn't had time to really think about any of this. Now it's coming out like a fucking faucet and I'm trying to collect my thoughts with a strainer. I can't hold onto them. Everything is just pouring out and he is squinting at me confused.


"I'm not Matias," he states.


"I know that."


"Then help me understand. What's your point of even bringing him up?" he asks.


"You're worse..."




Fuck that sounds so bad. All of a sudden I want to correct myself. I'm hesitant. I'm squealing almost. The words are struggling to come out. Before I get the chance to correct myself though I notice people walking over to us. Loud ass girls. Rosa, Katrina, and Portia. Usually, I would be looking at Rosa. I'd be putting my hands over her. I'd be giving her a kiss.


I hadn't done any of that right now.


"Fuck ya'll doing?" Portia asks.


"We were FUCKIN' talking!" I bark.


I realize how loud I am. I realize how aggressive I come off. I really don't mean to be that way but it just always seems like when me and Desta are having a serious conversation there is always someone there to interrupt. Whether it be annoying ass Prince or even my own girlfriend. Sometimes I just wanted to be left alone with him.


I almost immediately regret it when I see Rosa's face.


"Wow, really?"


I am fucking up today. First with Desta and now with Rosa.


"Actually, we can finish this off later. I think I got your point, Santana. We're good man. You're still the homie. Besides I was just getting to class..."


I'm not sure if he gets the point. I think he looks a little bit hurt still even though he forces a smile. I can almost see past it. I hate when Desta acts like he's all tough and shit and that nothing can get to him. I can tell what this is and I want to make it right SO bad for whatever reason.


Maybe that's why I start calling out to him.


"Desta really?" I ask, "Desta! Wait! DESTA!"


I slam my locker hard as hell. I slam it so hard I think I break the lock. I look down the hallway. Desta is walking away. I know he had some exam or something he mentioned earlier at breakfast with my mom but the truth is I wanted to finish this conversation.


"You can go after him if you want," Rosa states.


I think she says it in a funny way. I can't even tell honestly. I don't even care at this moment. I'm just pissed the last thing I told Desta was that he was worse than Matias. I don't even know what I was thinking when that shit slipped out. Who fucking said that to their friend? What kind of fucking friend was I?


"I'm good..." I respond.


I wasn't in the mood.


"Where you been?" Rosa asks me, "You haven't been responding to my texts."


"Helping Desta out. He's going through some shit," I tell her.


"What?" Rosa asks.


"Shit hitting the fan that's what," Katrina butts in getting into her usual gossip, "My girl Prissy hit me up saying how she's living the life with Desta's dad. Rumor has it that Desta got kicked out of his house and shit already."


"Yo, why don't you fuckin stop gossiping?" I tell Katrina, "That's my homie."


"She wasn't gossiping," Rosa protects her friend, "She's concerned. We all are. You're not the only one who cares about Desta."


"You don't know shit about me and Desta," I respond.


I am pissed when I say it. I just walk away.




The rest of the day I can't focus. Rosa keeps texting me but at this point, I'm just ignoring her. I'm not in the mood to talk to her. There is only one person I want to talk to right now. That person was Desta. There was too much confusion I needed to sort out.


He needed to know...if I could be with a'd be him.


I think I should tell him that.


Or would that be leading him on?


Fuck. I didn't know. This shit was a lot harder than I thought.


I go back to my locker hoping that I can finish the conversation that I had with Desta. I open the locker realizing I definitely broke the lock and the shit was open. When I opened it I see a note in there. It's clear someone slid the note in there.


It reads:






I feel a sense of relief. A part of me didn't want to just push this under the rug like we did everything else. I wanted to make this thing with Desta better. I'm not sure how. Maybe...maybe I should just come clean with him. Tell him everything.


By 3 o'clock I'm in the janitor's closet early.


I'm rehearsing to myself, "Desta...I enjoyed the kiss. I mean your lips are. No. That's dumb. I sound thirsty. Desta, you're dope as hell. We Vibe. Every part of me would want to be with you. Maybe one day we will. I just need some time to figure shit out. Especially with Rosa. But I am attracted to you in more ways than you can know but I'm just confused in my own life..."


I struggle. I shake my head. All of my fuckin thoughts sound pathetic and I've never been so confused in my goddam life. I have so much planned until I hear the door open and my mind goes completely blank.




Seeing him already is like seeing a ghost. All of a sudden all those old feelings come flooding back. Matias was the devil if he was a Dominican with dark black hair, a handsome face and a dope ass goatee that made him look a lot older than most of the boys our age. Matias liked to play the role too as though he was older than a lot of guys we knew. Even the way he walked. The way he was walking right now, swaggering in the room like he owned this entire school even though he was brand new to it. He liked to make himself feel grand. It wasn't like how Prince was. No this was different. He wasn't trying to be the pretty boy. Matias wasn't that type.


He wanted to be needed.


It's the reason he sold drugs.


It's the reason he got with dumb DL boys who didn't know what love was.


He wanted people to get addicted to him. Once you get hooked on Matias, he didn't plan on letting you go through withdrawal. He'd keep you addicted, even if he gave you what you needed for free. He was the drug pusher. He'd always been. Always will be.


Only for me, unlike the rest of his clients, the drug was love.


"You have been avoiding me. I didn't have a choice but to write you a fake note telling you to meet me here."


Fuck yes, I'd been avoiding him. What has me fucked up is that he signed it with Desta's name. What the fuck was that about? He was the devil.


"Why you here?" I ask.


I don't want to know the answer. I'm staring at the door.


"Cause you need me," he tells me.


"Fuck out my face man before I hit you. You know what the fuck you did to me, leaving me to take the wrap for you."


"I was gonna come back."


"Fuckin' liar."




"Don't call me that. Don't ever fuckin call me that. You ain't fuckin ain't SHIT!"


I don't know why I'm so emotional. I didn't think I would. Seeing him again though was one thing. Talking to him for the first time was something completely different. I try to walk out but he presses himself against the door. I grab him and throw him to the ground.


He grabs me.


We trip over each other. We end up on the ground.


"You going to hit me, punta?" he asks me, "If it wasn't for me, M83 would have cut a hole in that handsome face of yours."


"I ain't ask you to shit. I don't need you," he responds, "Stay the fuck away from me or I'll beat your ass..."


"You do need me. You love me. You wouldn't be so mad if you didn't," he tells me, "You don't get over shit like that so easily. We were in love. Remember? You didn't think you could feel that way about a guy."


"And when I did feel that way I regretted it. I put myself out there for you. And the experience is fuckin up shit I got going on now..."


"You mean with that boy Desta?"


I pause.


I raise my fist. He's not even struggling underneath me. I want to pummel him, "How the fuck you know him?"


"I saw the dance. Ain't never seen you dance like that before. Ain't never seen you look at no one like that before. No one except me..."


"Forget you know him."


"I'll forget him. Once you do. Cause you're always were. You always will be."


He leans forward and that's when he kisses me. I hate that I've missed that kiss. For some reason, I have this moment of weakness and I'm that dumb DL boy who never kissed a guy before who is realizing "wow...this shit ain't that bad". Then the thought changes, "Wow, I kind of like this gay stuff." To finally, I started thinking, "Damn I love this gay shit and I kind of might like this gay guy." I'm back to those thoughts.


I'm kissing him hard.


I want to stop myself.


But instead, I'm taking off my shirt. He's taking off his shirt. We're taking off pants. I'm pushing him up against the fucking cleaning stuff.


I pull my dick out. I'm ready to fuck the shit out of him when the door swings open.








"Why'd you leave me a note telling me to meet you here..." he asks, "To show me this?"




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