Date: Thu, 10 Feb 2011 00:55:58 -0500 (EST)
From: alexxxapathy@aim.com
Subject: Beach Boys chapter 10 (young friends)

It's been a while. Sorry for the incredible infrequency with which I update
this story as of the late. Life is busy, things are happening, and as
unfortunate as it sounds, I simple haven't had the time to write. But
lately I've had some spare writing time, so hopefully the chapters will be
coming more reliably. Anyway, I would very much love to recieve messages;
criticism, compliments, comments, questions, even just hello's. So, if
you've the time, I'd appreciate it! Outside of that, I've nothing more to
say. So... well, that's it!  Kind regards, all! =]


ON TO THE STORY!
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I woke up to the familiar annoyance of the alarm clock's screech, but
managed to shut it off before it woke up Jackson. Stroke of luck numero
uno. I threw on a white tank top that didn't have a single stain, a hemp
necklace and a torn up pair of Abercrombie jeans Jamie had let me borrow,
and actually made it to the bus on time for once. Stroke of luck numero
dos. I got to ceramics before anyone else, and was halfway through my first
vase by the time my oh-so-charming and handsome boyfriend arrived, looking
like a fucking stud in the dress clothes the coaches made kids wear before
a game. I swore when I looked at him that I was dating a high school guy,
his looks were just so dashing. Okay, so that one wasn't so much a stroke
of luck as a pleasant moment, but I was going to count it. Numero tres;
this day was going perfectly!

"Dayyyyum baby", I whispered playfully into his ear when we stole away into
the paint closet to 'look for some glazes', "you look amazing."

He giggled and shook his head. "Not as amazing as you babe, those jeans
look great on you." His hands grabbed my butt firmly and pulled my body
tight into his for a kiss. My knees got weak; nothing I hadn't gotten used
to. Every kiss he gave me felt like my first.

As we were walking out of the closet, the irony of that statement not
escaping me, he whistled and said, none-too-quietly, "Dude, you've got a
nice butt." I almost died.

"Jamie!", I blurted out when we sat down at our table in the far corner of
the room, my face painted the usual deep scarlet red he always seemed to
make it turn.

"Whaaat?", he groaned. The goofball. The sad part was that he honestly
didn't seem to know why that'd embarrassed me.

"You can't say stuff like that when we're in school! What if someone hears
it babe?"

He looked a little crestfallen, triggering a wave a guilt through my
chest. I was glad that he finally seemed to be embracing the fact that he
was gay and there wasn't anything wrong with it, I really was, but my
pragmatic side was good about keeping me grounded in reality. This was
Myrtle Beach, not San Francisco; people here weren't just going to accept
us. Those rumors you've heard about the South? Well, sometimes they're
pretty accurate.

"I'm sorry baby, you just look so good in those jeans. I knew it was a good
idea lending them to you.. such a cute butt." And once again, my knees were
weak. And I was SITTING, too.

This had become our typical day at school. Within a day or so we'd worked
out the logistics of meeting between each period. We knew which places were
safe for sneaking kisses. And even though it always ended with me blushing
and panicing like a girl, he always insisted on teasing me with those
enchanting compliments, right in the open.

Unlike most days, today seemed to drag on for an eternity before the clock
finally released us. Maybe it was the anticipation of hanging out with Eric
after school. More likely it was the anticipation of seeing my superstar
supercute superstud boyfriend lead the team to victory today in just two
short hours. As excited as I was to hang with Eric, I was banking on the
latter.

The moment the bell rang in last period I shot out the door so quickly I
nearly gave myself whipslash. Jamie and I had already discussed this; the
team would be leaving a minute or so before everybody else, so
unfortunately I wouldn't be seeing him until he was actually out and on the
field, but I had other plans. I ran, so quickly that by the time I reached
the locker room my legs felt like somebody'd taken a bat to them, but I
managed to beat him there, by a full minute. And the look on his face when
he saw me hunched over panting by the door made it all worth it.

"Alex!", he beamed as he ran over and gave me a hug, "I didn't think I'd
get to see you before the game." I was grinning like an idiot, face nestled
into his shoulder.

"Dude, I couldn't just let you hit the field without wishing you good
luck!"

He smiled, treating me once again to those beautiful pearly whites, just
one part of an unending list of things about Jamie that were perfect. Then,
looking both ways to make sure nobody was around, he drew me in for a deep
kiss. This time my knees melted so quickly he had to actually catch me.

He laughed. "Dude, you sure you play soccer? I mean, with knees like
those...", he teased.

"Shut up!", I tried my best to sound indignant, hitting his chest lightly
with my hand, "it's not like it's MY fault it keeps happening." He was all
smiles.

"Well, I'm going to need one more, just for good luck." And with that he
pulled me in for another kiss. Those velvetly soft lips, the way they
tasted when they connected with mine, that electrifying feeling that
quickened my pulse.. and just like that, for what I could only assume was
the millionth time, my legs got weak. I fell gently against his chest,
blushing.

"Do great out there", I whispered into his neck when we heard the door to
the hallway open. He silently nodded his head and held onto me just a brief
second longer, and then we parted ways.

After that I was sprinting once again, this time to make the bus. When I
got home I manage to slip my way into my room before anyone noticed me. I'd
lost count of how many times I'd been lucky today. Now if only I could fix
that pesky knee weakness, I'd be set for life.

For the next hour I fretted over what to wear. Jamie seemed to really like
the way those ripped up jeans fit me, so they were in. I took them off and
threw them in the washing machine so they'd be nice and clean. But after
that, I was at a loss. I was going to the game with Eric and afterwards he
was having a party at his house. Jamie was going to meet us there after the
team was done celebrating their victory, or God forbid, lamenting their
defeat. It was so frustrating. Do I wear a tank top, or is that too trashy?
Maybe a tee, or is that too casual? Should I go with a polo or a button up,
or does that make me look too preppy? Luckily for me I chanced upon a
baseball raglan Jamie had left at my house after one of our sleepovers;
perfect! Now if I could just get my hair right...

As I was mindlessly brushing my hair back and forth in the bathroom mirror,
in boxer briefs and Jamie's raglan, Eric casually strolled in. Oh yeah, my
house doesn't have locks. Or basic rules of courtesy, appearently. I was
beyond mortifyed.

"Well.. this is a little awkward."

"Eric! I.. uhh, I was getting ready.. I..", the words came out quick and
stuttered.

"Relax little dude", he cut me off, "Everybody wants to look fine. There's
gonna be a lot of pretty girls at the party tonight." I forced a terse
laugh and faked a smile. Girls were the last thing on my mind, but I
wouldn't be telling him that.

"Can't wait", I muttered. Just then, the ringer on the dryer went off. "Be
right back!", I chirped before making a B-line for the laundry room. I
don't think I've ever pulled on a pair of jeans more quickly in all my
life.

When I returned I found that Eric was busy exploring my room. Realizing we
were going to be late for the game, I skipped straight past the question of
whether or not house guests were supposed to be polite and reminded him
that the game was about to start and we needed to get good seats. After
that we were speeding down the street in that way-too-fast way that Eric
always drove. I closed my eyes as the wind destroyed all the work I'd done
in getting my hair just right and prayed that we didn't crash. A few
minutes later we arrived at the school's baseball field, my prayers
answered. Amen.

"Eric", I began in the most serious tone I could muster, "you drive too
fast." He just grinned and handed me my ticket.

We couldn't have gotten there at a better time. Just as we found our seats,
Jamie was stepping up to bat. I started clapping and yelling
encouragements.

"Knock it out of the park!", I shouted. Eric yelled something similar.

Jamie got himself in position, and as nervous and excited as I was the fact
that he was gorgeous was simply inescapable. His uniform was slim, and
hugged all those sensuous boy curves in just the right way, but it was more
than that. When Jamie was on the field, he alluded this sexiness that I
could never put to words. The confidence in his swagger as he stepped up to
bat, that serene focus that shone brightly as the midday sun in his eyes
when he stared down the pitcher, and the strength in his stance. It was so
alluring, so strong. He was a champion, and even as the pitcher threw his
arm back and launched the ball, he didn't bat an eye. With all the fluidity
of a professional he swung, and nailed it straight out and over center
field, into the stands.

He dropped the bat and took off toward first base, and the crowd exploded
in a frenzy of applause. I threw my hands in the air and cheered, Eric
screamed next to me. And Jamie, neer the showboat, simply ran the bases and
walked on back to the dugout, stopping to look up and give me a smile
before he disappeared.

Midway through the final inning, everybody knew how the game was going to
end. Our team was up so many points that victory was no longer a logical
possibility for the opposition. My voice was actually sore from yelling so
much encouragement. As much as I'd wanted to sprint onto the field and
congratulate Jamie for leading the pack to victory, I knew better. It was
against the rules, so I simply gave him a big smile when he looked up into
the stands one last time before disappearing off with his team, and then
Eric took me to his house. Somehow, independant of Eric despite the fact
that it was his party in his house, when we arrived it was already
starting.

The whole thing was an entirely new experience for me. There were tons of
older kids everywhere, a lot of them I recognied from the high school. The
music was loud; that ghetto club stuff I never listened to, and everyone
seemed to have a red plastic cup. When we entered several people came over
to greet Eric. I followed him through the hallway up the stairs to his
room, and without exaggeration I can say that he must've stopped for high
fives or hugs and greetings at least fifty times. I guess I never knew how
popular he was.

"So uhh... do you just know everybody in the world?", I asked genuinely. He
laughed.

"What can I say. The public loves me. So, don't be shy tonight, okay? Just
go down and have a good time. I'll even get you a drink." He must've
noticed my nervousness. I was most certainly not prepared for this sort of
thing; I considered myself cool when I was hanging with four kids at the
beach. Partying with eighty scared me.

"I, uhh... I don't.. I mean, I've never.. well...", I stuttered. I didn't
quite know how to confess without sounding like a nerd. He cut me off.

"It's cool. I was around your age when I had my first drink. You'll be
fine!" I wish I shared his optimism. "Just have a drink, and then you'll
feel better. Alcohol is kinda like God's gift to socially-awkward kids!",
he said, laughing. I tried my best to look indignant.

"If I'm so socially-awkward, why'd you invite me jerkface?", I said, trying
my hardest to sound angry when I knew full-well that he was joking.

He just laughed and messed up my hair, laughing all the harder at my
paniced attempts at fixing it back up.

"Don't sweat it pretty boy, your hair looks better messy anyway", he
laughed, before adding smugly, "just ask Jamie."

My eyes got wide. I tried to open my mouth to say something, but I couldn't
force the air out of my lungs.